Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Author: Thoughts On The Dead (Page 21 of 1031)

The Future Is Murder Heist

September 7, 2020 / / 2 Comments

…

…

…

“Why am I not part–”

I KNEW YOU WOULD BE LIKE THIS.

“–of the Murder Heist?”

You’re the worst.

“Well, screw me for having emotions. I feel very left-out here.”

You should be happy to be left out of this stupidity.

“I’m not. I cried myself to sleep three times yesterday.”

Three times?

“I took two naps.”

Oh.

“Everybody else is involved. Hell, you’ve been introducing new characters to participate. And my phone is not ringing.”

When your phone rings, it’s invariably Kim Jong-Un or Nixon.

“Sometimes it’s Miles Davis.”

Miles Davis sexually assaulted you on multiple occasions, and then shot you to death.

“Yeah, but at least I was included.”

Wow. Your brain is full of dead pigeons.

“I will not apologize for being a people person. Now, I demand to be a part of the Murder Heist.”

You demand?

GARMENT FETISHIST’S HEAD TURNING INSIDE-OUT, AND THEN BACK TO NORMAL, NOISE

“I truly do not like when you do that.”

Stop poking the bear.

“Oh, you’re the bear?”

I’m motherfucking Smokey the Bear. I got a hat, and I got pants, and I got lessons for the children.

…

“Wha?”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I’m gonna take this because you’re, like, half-a-Perc from complete incoherence.”

Don’t pill-shame me.

“Shh.”

…

“You’re on with John.”

“Johnny, me boy. Th’ lads an’ I have popped ’round to collect you. Up for some Murder Heistin’?”

“Finally! I’m in! I, uh, don’t recognize your voice, though.”

“I am speaking wiv Steve Harris’ voice.”

“Weird way to phrase that.”

“Nuffin weird about cosh an’ todgers.”

“Huh?”

“My grasp of the human language Designation: English/Subsign: East London Working Class is flawless.”

…

“Wha?”

“Dammit, I gotta get better at this secret identity thing.”

“This just went sideways.”

“Long story short: We are not Iron Maiden. Although we kind of are. Like, we have all their memories and, obviously, their bodies. But we’re really an intertrimensional criminal gang.”

“Trimensional?”

“Like a dimension, but more triangular.”

“Sure. Quick question.”

“Shoot.”

“Are you gonna give Iron Maiden their bodies back once you’re done with them?”

“That would be difficult.”

“Why?”

“Because we ingested them. No, wait. ‘Ingested’ is wrong. Let’s say ‘absorbed.'”

“You ate Iron Maiden?”

“No!”

…

“Kinda.”

“Dude, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Wait ’til you hear what we did to Judas Priest.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

…

“Jackass?”

Yup?

“I changed my mind.”

About being part of the Murder Heist?

“Yeah, that.”

Too late.

“I was afraid of that.”

Good instincts.

“Did they really eat Maiden?”

No.

…

Kinda.

“2020, huh?”

You said it, pal.

Run To The Hills

September 7, 2020 / / 4 Comments

Oh, not Garcia’s guitars.

“What about them?”

Are they what’s being heisted?

“God, no. Dude. How could you even accuse me of being involved with that?”

Anything goes in a Murder Heist, Oteil.

“Well aware of the fact. But there’s some lines you don’t cross. Stealing Garcia’s guitars is like tugging on Superman’s cape, man.”

Okay, okay. What are they for, then?

“Funny twist in the Murder Heist: A large portion of the plan now takes place in a semi-adjacent trimension.”

Trimension?

“It’s like a dimension, but more triangular.”

Sure. Why the guitars?

“They contain Remnant Magicks. Combine that with a Time Sheath, and you can pretty much do whatever the hell you want.”

Uh-huh. And once you arrive in this new reality, you will…

“Meet my contact.”

Whose identity, I’m guessing, is as of now unknown to you.

“Good guess.”

I think you guys are taking the compartmentalization thing too far. None of you seems to know the overall goal.

“Nonsense.”

Who is to be murdered?

“Deserving subjects.”

And what is to be heisted?

“That which can be stolen.”

You have no idea.

“I have received a full situational briefing.”

Just admit it. Is there even a plan at all? For all I know, you nimrods are freelancing.

“There’s no need for name-calling.”

Y’know what? You’re right. I apologize.

“I can see you using that kind of language with Billy, but not me.”

Billy usually deserves it.

“Yeah.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this. It might be someone calling to ask me to be on a podcast.”

You’ve been doing a lot of those.

“Dude, I’m so bored I could explode. Hold on.”

…

“This is Oteil, and you better keep it real.”

“Oi, we’re as real as an eel salad, me lad.”

“Are you my intertrimensional contacts?”

“That we are. We are roguish scoundrels ‘oo play fast an’ loose wiv th’ laws of man an’ th’ laws of physics.”

“Y’look a lot like Iron Maiden and Def Leppard in soccer uniforms.”

“No idea what that is, me lad.”

“They’re bands.”

“I haven’t th’ kippers what you’re on about. We are a scurvy crew of sexy brigands who go adventuring an’ get inta scrapes. We are not bound by the strictures of mathematics, and several o’ us can shoot poxy rays out their eyeballs.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I lead these men. You can call me Steve Harris.”

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“Are you telling me you’re not Iron Maiden?”

“We’re space pirates of time from beyond time and space.”

“And you just happen to look exactly like two of the biggest hard rock bands of the 80’s?”

“Young man, we still sell out arenas to this day.”

…

“What the fuck, man?”

“You caught us out. We was tryin’ t’ have a bit of a raspberry tart with you.”

“So you really are Maiden? You guys got a Time Sheath or something?”

“No. Double-twist: We actually a roving gang of reality-hopping troublemakers. But, uh, not the fun, heart-of-gold kind. We’re really into genocide. So we…well, I don’t wanna say ‘ate’ Iron Maiden and Def Leppard, because that would be technically wrong. And I also don’t wanna say we ‘assumed their forms’ because the process is so much more intricate than that phrase suggests. We’re them now. Let’s just leave it there: We’re them now.”

…

“I think I’d like to quit the Murder Heist and go home now.”

“Way too late. Wheels are in motion.”

“Shit.”

Hell In A Basket

September 6, 2020 / / 3 Comments

Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?

“Murder Heisting!”

Looks like you’re playing drums.

“Yes. That’s my role in the plan.”

Fits you.

“I didn’t need any prep time at all. Jumped right in with both feet.”

Good job.

“Tough to pull off a Murder Heist without at least a 30-minute drum segment.”

That’s where you come in.

“That’s where I come in.”

Is the hat related–

“I just like the hat.”

–to the Murder Heist? Oh.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this. It might be a member of the Zildjian family.”

Great cymbals.

“The best!”

…

“Hart here.”

“Kevin?”

“No, Mickey.”

“I meant to call Kevin Hart.”

“Very funny man. I like when he yells about being short.”

“That’s, like, 90% of his act.”

“Right! I’m a fan!”

“Okay. Are there any black celebrities you can hand the phone to?”

“Lemme look.”

…

“No.”

“All right, then. Let’s just pretend this was a butt-dial.”

“I have Branford Marsalis’ number, if that’ll help.”

“It will not.”

‘What about Merl Saunders?”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Well, if you meet him: Don’t call him Melvin. That pisses him right off.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Gotta go.”

“This is Dr. J, right?”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

Too Much Monkey Business

September 4, 2020 / / 8 Comments

“Hop in, loser. We’re–”

Not you, too.

“–going Murder Heisting, man.”

I thought you might be above this.

“Nah. I’m in the mood for some hijinx.”

Is Robert Redford in your trunk?

“Oh, no, man.”

Thank God.

“We traded him.”

You what now?

“We needed access to a spy satellite. And I guess the guy with the spy satellite needed access to Robert Redford. Worked out all even and steven, man.”

What’s the spy satellite for?

“Peeping, I gather.”

At what?

“Not my part of the plan.”

What is your part of the plan?

“Picking up crullers for the office. You can’t Murder Heist hungry, man. First rule.”

True, I guess.

“I’m having a blast, man, gotta tell ya. It’s like a giant sunflower blooming right in front of our eyes, but the petals are made from shenanigans.”

Really thought you were better than the rest of them.

“Absolutely not.”

Nope.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this.”

You should not have a cell phone.

“You should not have granted me the power to manipulate the timestream, man.”

Touché.

“Hang on.”

…

“Yello?”

“HAIRY GARCIA! WE READY F’R SOME GOOD OL’ MURDER HEISTIN’!”

“What do you mean ‘we,’ man?”

“AH HAVE ACQUIRED A MONKEY!”

“Kinda shocked it took this long, man.”

“THERE WAS A SIMIAN-SHAPED HOLE IN MAH HEART, HAIRY GARCIA! AH HAVE NOW FILLED IT, AN’ AH HAVE A SENSE OF GREAT PEACE.”

“Good for you, man.”

“UNFORT’NATELY, THERE IS VERY LITTLE PEACE IN GRACELAND! CHARLIE HODGE IS THREATENED BAH TH’ BANANA MAN!”

“You named the monkey–”

“I HAVE CHRISTENED HIM ‘TH’ BANANA MAN.'”

“–The Banana Man?”

“ON ACCOUNT O’ HE LOVES BANANAS. AN’ TH’ SECOND PART IS IRONIC. BANANA MAN AIN’T NO MAN, HE’S A MONKEY.”

“Clearly. So, what’s the beef with him and Charlie?”

“AS YOU KNOW, CHARLIE HODGE BRINGS ME MAH SCARVES AN’ WATER. AH GET SO DANG SWEATY, AN’ AH BECOME SO PARCHED. MY AFFLICTIONS CAN BE TREATED ONLY WITH SCARVES AN’ WATER! WE TRIED TOWELS AN’ GATORADE ONCE, AN’ IT WAS A COMPLETE DISASTER.”

“Change can be tough, man.”

“TH’ KING NEEDS SCARVES, AN’ TH’ KING NEEDS WATER, AND CHARLIE HODGE DELIVERS THESE BALMS TO HIS KING.”

…

“BUT IT DID TAKE TH’ BETTER PART OF A DECADE TO TEACH CHARLIE HODGE HOW TO DO IT. BOY’S THICKER TH’N CEMENT SOUP. DIDN’ EVEN KNOW WHAT A SCARF WAS AT FIRST. AH’D ASK F’R ONE, AN’ HE’D BRING ME RANDOM HOUSEHOLD ITEMS. OH, MAN, TH’ LOOK ON HIS FACE WOULD BREAK Y’R HEART. SO HOPEFUL.”

“Well, people learn at their own pace, I guess.”

“THASS WHAT AH LIKE ABOUT YOU, HAIRY GARCIA: YOU SEE TH’ GOOD IN PEOPLE.”

“I try my best, man.”

“BUT YOU SHOULD STOP GIVIN’ CHARLIE HODGE TH’ BENEFIT OF TH’ DOUBT. BOY’S SO DUMB HE CAN’T EVEN SPELL IQ.”

“So what’s his problem with the chimp?”

“AS AH MENTIONED, IT TOOK ALMOST TEN YEARS F’R CHARLIE HODGE TO MASTER THE FETCHIN’ O’ MAH SCARVES AN’ WATER.”

“Yeah.”

“TOOK TH’ BANANA MAN 20 MINUTES T’FIGURE IT OUT.”

“That’s gonna cause some friction.”

“THIS WILL END IN TEARS. JUS’ DON’ KNOW FROM WHICH SPECIES YET.”

“Uh-huh. Elvis, was there a reason you called?”

“MURDER HEIST!”

“Oh, right, that.”

“COME PICK US UP! STOP F’R DONUTS FIRST!”

“I got crullers.”

“CRULLERS’LL DO.”

A Partial Transcript Of Governor DeSantis’ Remarks, 9/3/20

September 3, 2020 / / 6 Comments

“Good morning, everyone. Didja grab a donut? We brought a whole assortment. Democrat states are all on fire, but under President Trump’s bold leadership, I’ve provided you with pastry. That’s yet another win for the GOP. Let’s keep it going ’til November, all right? Great.

“Anyways, we’re not here to talk politics. This is about how the people of Florida–all classes: the landed, burghers, villeins, serfs, lifeguards–came together to defeat the Coronavirus and get our state working again. We’ve got the death toll way down, and that’s due to citizens making the right decisions. I guess some credit would also go to the new way we’re calculating the death toll. Everyone suspected of dying from Covid is now listed as being murdered by Antifa. Kills two birds with one stone. Incredible things can be done with math.

“So since the ronus is on the run, I am happy to announce that Palm Beach County will be transitioning to Phase II of Operation: Pull Yourself Up By Your Flip-Flopstraps. Some businesses will reopen, others will be able to expand their services, and high school football practices can go to full-contact. That last part is particularly important to me. I’ve been speaking with coaches all over the state, and they all tell me that their boys are just itching to hit someone. That’s the tough part about being governor. Sometimes, you’re in a position where all the scientists and doctors say one thing, and all the high school football coaches say the opposite. Walk a mile in my shoes, huh?

“We will be opening movie theaters, so everybody can go see that new Christopher Nolan movie. Tenant? Tencent? I don’t really follow that stuff. Time goes back and forth or something, and I think the hero’s a black guy. There will be some restrictions for now. Only half the seats can be sold for any showing, and you’re not allowed to share popcorn anymore. Everyone’s gotta buy their own concessions.

“Also opening up are bowling alleys, and I want all Floridians to know that they will be safe down at the lanes. When you rent your shoes, the guy’s gonna double-spray ’em. Nothing could survive that. If you frequent one of those fancy, family-friendly bowling establishments, then your tapas will be sanitized. If you prefer to roll at a shabbier location, then that guy who hangs out at the bar drinking Bud Lights and looking traumatized named Stinkfinger Lou will be sanitized.”

POTATO-HEADED GOVERNOR BEING HANDED A NOTE NOISE

“Stinkfinger Lou has died. Cause of death was…ah, he was murdered by Antifa. All of Florida mourns.

“Tattoo parlors will be free to operate, so anyone that’s been waiting to stamp their tramp is in luck. What else is gonna open? Skating rinks of the roller and ice varieties. Anything even vaguely golf-related. Gator-processing facilities. Shops that deal in Mah Jongg paraphernalia. Gentlemen’s establishments. Diners that burn down every two years like clockwork. That place on 441 where you run around a maze licking strangers. What’s that place called? Laser Tongue? I went there for birthday parties when I was a kid.

“Ice cream shops may begin handing out samples once more.

“Also some new rules for restaurants. We just gotta get folks into the dining rooms. Outdoor seating just doesn’t work for Florida. It’s too hot, too humid, and the invariable wave after wave of iguana attacks. For eight months a year, outside is a lethal hellscape. And plus the view is just gonna be of a strip mall parking lot. Al fresco sucks.

“But obviously we must be careful with how we reopen the restaurants. We’re limiting table capacity to four, but we will leave it up to individuals whether they want to push tables together. That’s called freedom, liberals. We also will be continuing a halt to the sale of communal alcoholic beverages such as the Scorpion Bowl, the Swamp Cooler, and the world-famous Key Large-O, which I think is almost two gallons of booze. They won’t sell it to fewer than eight people, I know that. And you might have to sign a waiver.

“Buffets will open, but we’re really gonna stress that people use the tongs. Please don’t just grab the crab legs with your hands. Or at least wash your hands first.

“Despite rumors to the contrary, Mickey’s, the restaurant outside Tampa where you choose, catch, slaughter, and prepare your own chicken, will not be reopening. Ever. And that’s not Covid-related, it’s general principle. I’m pro-business, but you’ve gotta draw a line somewhere.

“Other than that: Open! Dim, overpriced steakhouses where the waiters are all on pills? Open! Burger joint that makes you fetch your own Coke and still has the balls to charge $15 for lunch? Open! Bistro where performative homosexuals throw yogurt at rich ladies? Open! Wedgies, where you might get iceberg lettuce and you might get your underwear yanked into your asshole? Open! The Chinese place you don’t like, but it’s close? Open! The Chinese place that’s good, but it’s so far away? Open!

“So, uh, there you go. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry, Florida, and don’t forget to tip your waitstaff.”

POTATO-HEADED GOVERNOR LEAVING THE ROOM, THEN COMING BACK NOISE

“My office will have an official statement on Stinkfinger Lou within the hour. Okay, enjoy the donuts.”

Heist In A Bucket

September 3, 2020 / / 4 Comments

Aw, come on. The duck doesn’t need to be–

“He’s, uh, part of the Murder Heist.”

–part of the Murder Heist. This is not right, Bobby.

“He’s integral. No duck, no luck.”

Why have you time travelled to the Hell In A Bucket video?

“Well, you remember that last Revenger movie.”

Avengers.

“If you say so. They, uh, went back and visited themselves in order to defeat Anus.”

Thanos.

“Was that the purple guy’s name?”

Yes.

“Probably a better name for a super-villain than ‘Anus.'”

Correct.

“Although some anuses can be scary as all get-out.”

I suppose. Bobby, please stop jaunting through time to pull off a Murder Heist.

“Too late to stop now. It’s a lit-fuse situation.”

Okay. Can you at least tell me what the duck has to do with the plan?

“We’re going to be coming up on some 3D approximations of reality. But, uh, real realistic ones.”

Right. And?

“And ducks’ quacks don’t echo. So if we’re somewhere that we suspect of being composed of hard-light holograms, we just get have the duck quack at it a couple times.”

…

And?

“And, uh, problem solved.”

I’m ignoring that. Is that Billy?

“Yuh-huh.”

Did he end up kidnapping Robert Redford?

“Sure did.”

Is Robert Redford in the trunk of that Cadillac?

“Sure is. But, you know: It’s spacious as heck back there. We wouldn’t have put him in a, say, a Miata’s trunk. The man’s a star.”

Thoughtful of you.

“There’s always enough time for good manners.”

I suppose.

Reaching Out

September 2, 2020 / / 10 Comments

“Murder–”

Oh, no.

“–Heist, you beef jerky-looking motherfucker.”

BELOVED PRESIDENT TAKING IT ON THE CHIN AND CRUMPLING NOISE

“This bitch, too.”

BELOVED FIRST LADY RECEIVING SIMILAR TREATMENT FROM A MUSICAL LEGEND NOISE

“Why not?”

GIFTED ACTRESS WHO DESERVED BETTER THAN THIS FROM A PARTNER AND THE WORLD, ETC., NOISE

Stop that!

“I was kind to the crackers.”

What about your wife?

“Don’t ask me about my personal business. I ever ask about you?”

No.

“So don’t ask about me.”

How is laying out the First Couple and your wife part of the Murder Heist?

“You remember that time Ghost Rider tried to fuck the White House?”

…

Nicolas Cage.

“He fucked Peggy Sue, too.”

Nicolas Cage.

“Yeah. This shit is like that shit. There’s a desk with a puzzle built into it, or a riddle carved into the floorboards. Nothing may be as it seems. I gotta solve some shit.”

Can you be more specific?

BANG!

Sorry.

“Bet your ass you are. Sorry-ass motherfucker. You’re lucky I don’t call you a Jew bastard. We know each other a long time, so I won’t say that shit out loud, but we both know it’s in the air.”

I apologize, Mr. Davis.

“Between you and me, who you trusting on a Murder Heist?”

…

“You say ‘neither of us,’ I’ll shoot at your ass again.”

I would trust you, sir.

“Damn straight. I’m thinking maybe the paintings have been arranged to form some sort of pictocryptic clue, or even a warning. I’m gonna have Stevie Grossman look at it. Jews are good at deciphering.”

Stevie Grossman’s part of this?

“Stevie Grossman’s part of a lotta shit.”

Okay, sure. If there’s riddles and whatever, then you’re part of the “heist” section of the Murder Heist.

“Never know. Could be the answer to the riddle is ‘Murder some motherfucker.’ Never wanna anticipate the Murder Heist. You gotta listen.”

Did it tell you to punch the President, the First Lady, and your wife?

BANG!

“I told you my marriage ups-and-downs are off-limits.”

Sorry, Mr. Davis.

“You’re a shining example of how fucking mediocre a white man’s allowed to be in this world. You think Caspar Weinberger is here?”

Why?

“I wanna punch Caspar fucking Weinberger.”

Is that part of the Murder Heist?

“Let’s find out.”

FOURTEEN YEARS EARLIER, BUT ALSO SIMULTANEOUSLY BECAUSE OF TIME SHEATH-RELATED BULLSHIT NOISE

“Mr. Brown, we can’t have it. Not this administration, not the people of America, not the Black community. The unrest in the streets has got to stop, and I would, uh, greatly appreciate your counsel on that. But, firstly, I want you to get MIles Davis to stop coldcocking Republicans”

“A man can act th’ fool sometime, but not always and not in some places. Man’s gotta be dignified in th’ White House! Man’s gotta be respectable and serious. Can’t be punchin’ on old white people.”

“Yes, yes. We’re of a mind about this. He, uh, just nut-shotted George Schultz.”

“We can’t be havin’ it!”

“No, no. All of this is out of the question, the events of the past few days. We’re informed this is all part of something called a, uh, Murder Heist. That is the name. Whether it is euphemistic is yet to be seen. As of yet, no one has died.”

THE ULTIMATE SOUL BROTHER PEEKING OUT A SLIGHTLY CURVED DOOR NOISE

“Gonna be honest, Mr. President: Nancy looks dead.”

“She’s a very slight woman. I can’t imagine her taking much of a beating before succumbing to her wounds. The nation mourns.”

“She was the eleganzo bean in America’s stew.”

“Yes, well, all right. Please, Mr. Brown. Go calm Miles Davis down before he kneecaps Lawrence Eagleberger.”

“The Jew is a man who can be partnered with!”

“I’ve not found that. My dealings with them have been less than sound. You may, of course, have had different experiences. I can only speak to my personal experiences with members of the race. Incidental to his people’s beliefs is the fact that he cannot be pummeled by a trumpeter at a White House banquet. How does that look to the Chinese?”

“They on the come-up.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Wanna go in they house, gotta take off your shoes.”

“Also correct.”

“Lumpy eggs.”

“Afterwards, for sure. Consider it done.”

“Counter-attack on the attack!”

GODFATHER OF SOUL PURPOSFULLY OPENING THE OVAL OFFICE DOOR NOISE

“I ain’t kiddin’:Nancy dead!”

“We’ll take care of it. Just bring order, son.”

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