Mark McGee
Your Supreme Overlord
So you wish to know the dazzling greatness that is yours truly? Well I’ll try and put it in
a more feeble minded tone considering you are only one of my commoners. I wasn’t always this
tall, slender, maniacal man you see before yourself today, no I too used to be like you, sheep-like
following the status quo. I was once described by my family as a caring and funny guy, but that
was then and this is now. My parents are basically the parents of what should have turned out to
be a hero. As a matter of fact I wanted to be a hero like Green Arrow, but I just couldn’t take
getting walked over like a hero does. My father is a noble, funny, and caring hunter. On the other
side of the gene pool, my mother is a caring woman who loves shopping. I used to be the “A”
student until I opened my eyes and started living. As a boy I partook in the minor crimes
gradually getting worse. I went streaking (and still do), toilet papering peoples’ houses, stealing
street signs, and bringing illegal fireworks into the state. I then went on to do more dastardly
things for a young man. I slipped exlax pills into a fellow student’s food and was later expelled
for the remainder of the school year, making me a legend in the middle school. I was never like
anyone else. My thought was and still is that if I’m going out I’m going to go out with a bang.
Another time me and my past associates wreaked havoc on the highways, putting gutters and
bumpers into the lanes, and then bombarding things and people with potatoes, one time actually
hitting someone in the face through their car window. Plain and simple, I was a little asshole.
All the petty thug crimes soon came to an end when I met the moonian model Malarzia.
With a name that’s so close to malaria there is no wonder why I got sick after every time we “got
it on.” Life seemed at an all-time high when I was with her. As with every villain, our story is
not one that ends happily. Malarzia later turned out not to be as she seemed to be, she was
secretly a total different person, really just a bitch. She cheated on me and left me with a sucker
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punch to both the heart and the yam bag. Feeling lower than a worm’s belly I sang songs of great
despondence. Singing to songs with the tune of Simon and Garfunkel “I am a Rock” and Three
Dog Night “One”, I pitied myself, not eating for two or three days. The pain in my heart was far
worse than that in my stomach. It was not until a more up tune song, “What is Love” came on
that I decided to get off my ass and get my comfort food Taco Bellizmar. I ordered the seven
layer moonian burrito. They might as well call it the moonian anus destroyer, because I was
clinching and wobbling for the bathroom in minutes. Tragically as I grasped the handle to ender
the bathroom all bowel control was lost, plain and simple I shit my pants, thus ruining my Ralph
Polo Lauren boxers which were my favorite. (Theory of a Dead Man “Hate My Life”) They were
like having a cloud gently caressing your family jewels.
With a pound of poop in the pants I was about ready to leave the restaurant when all of a
sudden the place was bull rushed by moonian death lords. I was abducted and thrown into a
moonian death oven designed by the death lords to reach gene exploding heat in mere minutes.
As I felt my whole body start to genetically break, the machine abruptly started shooting fire and
sparks in all directions. I could hear the murmurs of the death lords saying something about the
machine entering gene splitting mode. There was a sudden feeling of peeling vertically down the
middle of my body. With the second of feeling came an instant pop, as if every bone in my body
cracked. I collapsed in pure exhaust.
Unexpectedly I heard a voice, “It’s hotter than the Devil’s sack in here.” I peered up in
amazement to see a tall, muscularly built man. He leaned down and lifted me while saying “let’s
bust this joint.” He busted the door of the moonian death oven open with the flick of his finger.
Escaping to a nearby island, we made do for six full months. We collected and survived with
random things we found washed up on the beach. We had found a bow and arrow, fire starter,
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survival knife, a pan for boiling water (for purifying), a flashlight, and camouflage clothing. We
eventually found magazines and a radio.
While surviving we found that we both had powers gained from the gene splitting
modification. I had gained extreme intellect and mind powers and Magnificent Mark was gifted
with super speed and strength. Magnificent Mark seemed to be the typical super hero you read
about in comics until I started reading his thoughts, unbeknownst to him. His deepest most
wanted wish was to move to Canada, join his idols the Chippendales and find the man of his
dreams, yes I said man. He had a magnet- like affection for John Stamos. His favorite movie was
The Notebook. I even caught him singing “It’s Raining Men.” On top of that he had a great love
for spandex tights, as most superheroes usually do.
Leaving the island was triggered after I heard the news of my mother being force infected
with the Moonian Cancer Virus (MCV) by moonian death lords. Something deep inside me
finally gave way and snapped. The moonians had now broken my heart and body for the third
and final time. Every ounce of good and decency in me depleted. The constant nightmare of the
moonian oven and my mother wearing away from MCV woke me every night. My greatest
hopes and obsessions became knowledge, sex, and vengeance. I began plotting the demise of the
entire moonian race. It was not enough that my enemies be destroyed; they and all that they
represented would have to be wiped from existence, pure obliteration and decimation of all
moonians! I prayed to Fuckkitis (Fuck-kite-is) for vengeance to be mine. For those who don’t
know, Fuckkitis is the sexual god of all. Eons ago all stars of the Magamoonian galaxy collided
forming one gigantic superstar and exploded spawning the awesomeness that is Fuckkitis.
Fuckkitis has no flaws at all and has total faith in himself, being his own favorite person. His
proudest achievement is being so awesome. He is a jacked black guy with Fredrick Douglas hair
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and has big pink nipples. He wears magical MC Hammer pants, fears nothing, and hopes for all
to worship him. Fuckkitis is vouchsafe, the-be-all-end-all of attractiveness, and mighty.
Now that the Fuckkitis history lesson is over it is time to get back to me. I requested the
assistance of Magnificent Mark to aid me in my quest for vengeance only to receive the cold
shoulder. I was left lonely and hating the state of the world. Meanwhile Magnificent Mark was
out pleasing every Tom, Dick and Harry, living out his obsession with spandex and justice.
Through the mind I could still sense his greatest disappointment, being obligated to justice and
super heroism and never having the chance to live out his secret wish. On the other side of the
spectrum, I the “villain” had just got a secret lair filled with mass amounts of weapons
everything from swords to nun chucks and the occasional ray guns. I later gained the resources to
make my robotic brain enhancer, which quadruples my intellectual and mind powers. I later
made this man’s (pointing to self) best friend, Cyber Homer. Cyber Homer is my cyber hound
dog that depends on me for cyber nutrition and he is somebody to talk to, Cyber Homer does not
judge. I later initiated phase one of my vengeance and manipulated my way into total control of
the Council of Condemnation by installing a brain manipulator on all of the councilors in their
sleep. Phase two, I made my deathometer and made preparations for the up and coming death of
the moonian race. For the slow minded, a deathometer is a thermometer that raises the
temperature of a planet to its global melting point, decaying the planet with heat. On to the
greatest achievement of my life, DEATH TO THE MOONIANS! (Push it to the Limit plays in
the back ground) I pulled the initiation switch of the deathometer releasing a paroxysm of supraheat deep into the Moon. The anguish of the moonians was music to my ears, like a soothing
ointment to my burn. The vengeance was exhilarating to be short. Suddenly a flash and bang and
my deathometer was destroyed! I only had the dark side of the Moon demised. I looked to the
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Moon to see the naked ass of Magnificent Mark. The spandex tights of his had been melted clean
off while he managed to save the showing half of the moon. Then the face to face came with me
and him and unlike most hero stories his ended almost in the way of the Dark Knight. I said to
him, “Why would you keep this lie going of noble hero? You will never have self-acceptance
going on lying to yourself. Go live that wish of yours, evade to Canada. I’ll tell everyone the
august tale of how you perished saving the good side of the Moon.” Magnificent Mark accepted
the deviously generous proffer. He now lives on Gay rode, Queens County in Canada and goes
by the name of Bruce Stamos, yes that’s rite he married John Stamos. You ask how, John Stamos
is a straight man? Well with the help of a brain manipulator he is not, who am I to say no to love
for “Bruce.” Me, you ask? Well I went on to do what I would have done if I was dying. I went
skydiving, robbed banks, and finished off the rest of my enemies. Ultimately there was still a
void in my black heart that needed filling. Downheartedly I still had my greatest fear of dying
unaccompanied. I went on hating couples because they had what I gravely yearned, love and
companionship. I frantically held on to my greatest wish, that of a love of my own, a girlfriend or
wife. As for now I’m your Supreme Overlord, the ruler of all. The Camera pans out showing The
Overlord sitting on the couch with Cyber Homer and Malarzia with a brain manipulator on her
head (The Rolling Stones “Under My Thumb” plays)