Mister Mxyzptlk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
As a superhero fan, I was very excited when this week’s Trifextra was ammended to include Super(villains)! And this allows me to give 33 words to my most favorite one of all time:
The Astoundingly Annoying Mr. Mxyxptlk!
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An imp from the 5th Dimension,
Mr. Mxyxptlk visits our universe
to wreak juvenile havoc with the powers of his mind.
He turned Superman into Supergoat?
Just make him say kltpzyxM!
Adios Mxyxptlk!
So, the fine editors over at Trifecta gave us free reign to write this week’s Trifextra on whatever I want! I just have to use at least one of these confangled “Compound Modifiers” like “fine-toothed” or “hot-buttered”. But the benefit is that they only count as ONE word! Isn’t the English language confusing terrific?! 
As Always… 33 word limit will be strictly enforced.
I dub this entry: #UndeadWorldProblems
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The well-dressed man and the one-armed zombie wrestle in pitch-black darkness.
His wing-tipped shoe connects with the zombie’s flame-engulfed skull.
I wonder…
How does one clean an Oxford covered in tar-like, char-broiled brains?
*editor’s note: I incorrectly labled this entry as Trifextra #64. It is actually #65. The writer regrets the error and has been sufficiently flogged. Thank you for your understanding.
C2E2 and the hierarchy of nerd culture.
Jaime and I have just bought our tickets to C2E2, Chicago’s Comic Book Convention! We went to this last year and were AMAZED at the giant scope of all things nerd/geek. Last year we sat in on a Q&A with Val Kilmer (a.k.a. Batman from Batman Forever), and I sat in on a panel discussion with two characters from one of my favorite shows on TV, AMC’s The Walking Dead (it was Glen & Maggie, for those fellow Dead Heads), and saw hundreds, and hundreds of Costumed visitors (the technical term is “Cosplay”) dressed up as pretty much any and every comic book/superhero/villain/Star Wars/Star Trek/etc. character you can think of!
This year, I will take many many pictures and write up a report on the awesomeness that is C2E2!
It’s my first Sox game of 2013 and from left to right there’s my brother Landon, your beloved blogger in the middle, and my increasingly gray haired father Leonard Sr.
It’s a beautiful day in Chicago and there’s nothing better than being at the park with your family!
(So thanks to the positive response to my previous Trifextra entry “Sealed” and to the general agreement that such a cliffhanger needed to be explored further, I’m going to give this a shot and actually continue one of these stories and see where it takes us.
Click here to read the post that started “Sealed”. And please please please provide some feedback. Whether good or bad, I thank you for it in advance!
And just so you know, this will also be my entry for the Trifecta Week 74 Challenge… Please take a look at all the other entries as well!
Ok, enough stalling. Ripping off the band aid in 3…2…1…)
1 a : a state of being beyond reason and self-control
b archaic : swoon
2: a state of overwhelming emotion; especially : rapturous delight
3 : trance; especially : a mystic or prophetic trance
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Tyson continued to stare at the image of his father, frozen in mid-speech, brown lips dotted with flecks of bright red blood pressed together in preparation to deliver…
What? What did you wish dad? Bet you didn’t wish the last image your son would ever get to see of his father would be you.. covered in blood..
The sound of the rusted, titanium door opening behind Tyson broke through the trance that had taken hold of him, as it usually did when he watched the last transmission from his father. Heavy footed steps approached him from behind, one step followed by a slightly too fast second one meant only one thing…
“Hello, Evandra.”
“I hate it when you call me that. It’s Eva.“
Tyson’s twin sister Evan slapped him on the back of his head with a quick snap of her hand. He chuckled as he remembered the story behind the names told by their father throughout their childhood. When he wasn’t working in a white lab coat 6 days a week, Tyson and Eva’s father spent much of his free time in the ring, boxing in a semi-professional league. When he learned his wife would have twins, he was convinced both children would be boys and they’d be named after his two favorite boxers: Mike Tyson & Evander Holyfield.
Fate had other plans, however, when their father’s state of ecstasy was shattered as his wife made one last strained, agonizing push before flatlining. And, lo it came to be, that baby boy Evander became baby girl Evandra.
Tyson rubbed the back of his recently shaved head. “A thousand apologies, Eva. Is there something you came in here for? I thought it was your turn at the watch.”
Eva’s eyes had gotten ensnared in the gaze of her blood stained father when she suddenly blinked back into this reality and said: “Someone’s at the vault door.”
“Who’s there?” Tyson asked. “I hope its Santa Claus.”
“No.” Eva sighed. “It’s Dad.”
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*note: Big thanks to Draug over at Trifecta for a bit of editing to a line in the piece! Hop on over there and check her out! Er… check her site out! Um… Here’s a picture of Nic Cage to smooth things over!
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“Sealed”
We’ve lost containment of the specimen.
It will be decades, maybe a century before its safe to leave the vault.
Your sister is in charge now.
Please forgive me, Son. I wish I-
[END OF TRANSMISSION]
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When your surname (Gore) is added on the end of Google Searches looking for graphic photos of injuries at the Boston Marathon.
#yikes
