Swamp Thing Is A Massive Asshole
I mean, seriously, what would you do with a glimpse into the future? Would you be out there saving lives? Or getting loads of sweet corporate cash like Booster Famewhore? Or would you be dicking about with another guy's free will? I know what this is about. He wants to be my friend. He wants to be part of my team. I've seen his blog, the whole thing seems to be an extended fantasy about how all the superheroes love his fungus-infested ass. With a few naked shots of his wife for good measure. NOT SAFE FOR WORK. Well, here's a message direct from the team leader of my super teeeeam, Captain Carrot. THERE ARE NO MORE PLACES AVAILABLE. IT'S A TEAM OF ONE. IT'S CALLED RALPH DIBNY. HEADQUARTERS ARE MY CLOTHES.
Don't try that again. If I want to know what I'll be doing on a Thursday, I sit around and wait like decent people. That goes for the rest of you, especially you. You know who you are.
Anyway, if not for that goddamned cryptic warning about going to Philadelphia, I wouldn't be in Philly right now. Sitting on a stone representation of Connor's hackysack.
Basically, as soon as I heard that, I got this stabbing pain right behind my eyes and decided to get as far away from Philly as humanly possible, which meant either China or Deep Space, and Deep Space is full of complete assholes. So I decided to head for China. That is where the bizarre chain of events that I have decided to call 'Swamp Thing Blows Goats I Have Proof' began.
I honestly forgot that they have superpeople there these days. And those superpeople have been pretty much tasked with keeping all the other superpeople out of China. And since I've gone around telling everybody that I can still stretch like a fiend if I felt like it, I'm on the list. So rather than being met at the airport by a friendly limo driver expecting a ten dollar tip, I was met by a member of the Great Ten EXPECTING TO KICK MY ASS. And succeeding in that expectation.
It was a heavily pregnant woman in some kind of wheelchair! How was I to know I was being attacked by Chinese state-sponsored superpeople? I was almost beaten to death by more than twenty people and they all came out of her... I can't say it. Trust me, it makes sitting around on a representation of Superboy's overemphasised bits seem positively mundane. What kind of world are we living in where somebody's superpower is to give birth to grown humans who kick me hard in the face?
Anyway, after I'd been 'restrained' - and had my beard shaved down to stubble in case it had drugs in it, along with the rest of my body hair - they put me on the first plane back to the USA.
Which went to Philadelphia.
You plant bastard.
Anyway, the first thing I wanted to do when I got there was avoid Cassie. To hell with the case and to hell with my wallet - all I wanted was a drink and some pretzels before I caught a flight right back to Opal City. So I head for the airport bar and she's standing right there! Of course cults infest airports! Of course it had to be her cult! Because Swamp Bitch can't be wrong!
So I panicked and ran for my life. I could swear I heard her screaming above the wind and the noise of the traffic, asking for more personal effects. Did I have other rings? Nipple rings? How about a Prince Albert Mr Dibny? Just get in the ol' drowning hole and we'll yank that sucker right off under the pretense of giving you a rubdown! Obviously I had to get off the streets, but I might have been remiss in grabbing a fire escape, climbing up five stories and breaking into the first apartment I saw. I figured I'd join some family at dinner, wait it out for a while and then grab a greyhound to the next state. At the time it seemed like a foolproof plan. I didn't realise whose apartment it actually was.
There's only one proper procedure when you break into the apartment of the very person you've been trying not to come into contact with for days, and that's to pretend it was totally what you meant to do all along. So when I heard Cassie come in I hurled myself into an armchair and started talking nonsense like my life depended on it. Thank God I had some Superman playing cards on me - if you hold them upside down, they look like evidence! It's little tricks like that that have put me at the top of the detective game. And kept me out of prison.
Anyway, she told me why she wanted the ring. At the time it didn't register that much - I had the face of someone with a couple of days jet lag and a concussion from being kicked in the head by a superfetus - but now that I'm sitting on a huge statue of Connor's family jewels dressed in some pretty sumptuous velour, I'm starting to like the idea more and more! I mean, who doesn't want their wife back from the dead? Apart from guys whose wives are still alive. And spouse murderers. Anyway, I'll be changing the layout a little to reflect the coming change to a new Dibny dawn of love, so next week this blog will be called Ralph And Sue's Togetherness Diary Of Happiness. That's if I have time to post! Geddit?
In fact, if you like Swamp Thing's blog, come back next week because this one's going to be a chronicle of well-adjusted married people in love just like it. How could it not be? I mean, they've got a guy called 'Devem'! That's like Devo with an M! I guess if Dr Willis were here he'd be telling me not to pin my hopes on something that is completely and utterly mad and undoubtedly is only going to lead to a further mental breakdown and yet another psychotic episode, but he's an idiot. Nothing can possibly go wrong. This time next week all my problems will be over and I'll never need a psychotherapist again!