Wolverpus Escapes

Early yesterday morning, my beloved wolverpus escaped from his cell during a routine feeding. After gorging himself on the idiot intern who left the door unlocked, he manipulated the elevator system into allowing him roof access and leaped to a nearby building. By the time the black helicopters arrived to subdue him with the hash brownie grenade launcher, our surveillance cameras lost him. We did, in fact, attempt to track him using the video feed contained in your control devices, but the quality was far too low, what with everyone running for their lives. The good news is that we got a really good snap of him for the Illuminati Christmas card while he was tearing someone’s arm off. We’re still deciding on whether or not to photoshop the blood spatter off his face.

A routine check of his credit card revealed numerous authorizations at an ATM located outside a strip joint on the other side of town. Fifteen operatives were dispatched to the location, but by the time they got there, he had already left with several of the most desired strippers and tipped the remaining ones generously in his haste. The operatives have yet to return, and when they do, they’ll be treated with a strong course of antibiotics for their insolence. And Naugahyde underwear for good measure.

Figuring that he’d be busy most of the night, we called off the search until day-break. And an excellent move it was as this morning, exhausted from the previous night’s escapades, he phoned my office and declared “I never thought of myself as a ladies’ man, but I had a marvelous stay at the Holiday Inn Express last night.”

So, it is with a heavy heart that the wolverpus returns to his home in the basement of our HQ. I think I’ll be authorizing more of this out-time. So if you should by any chance stay at a Holiday Inn Express and want to complain about the noise level in the suite next to you…for the love of all your attached limbs, reconsider.

Lizard Impossible

This year marks the tenth anniversary of the Illuminati’s plan to destroy the Food Network. Now you may be wondering why we would choose to do such a thing and you should already know the answer to this: Because we can. Yeah, it’s good to be me.

So anyway, you must want to know what we’re planning for an anniversary party. Well our dear friends, the shape-shifting lizards, set up a lovely little surprise.

Last year, one of my contacts within the network called me, barely able to contain her laughter. It turned out that Jag (from The Next Food Network Star) was lying about being in Iraq and the entire office was in an absolute tizzy trying to figure out how to wiggle out from under the giant pile of shit he just unloaded on them. As she was giving me a play-by-play of the reactions and stupid “make him pretend to be remorseful” suggestions, she almost lost control of her facade and was very nearly discovered for what she is. I was also amused – to the point where I let a few interns obtain a full recovery before permanently retiring them to the SPAM factory.

It turns out that Jag was working for the lizards. His mission was to expose the network’s lack of fact-checking and make them look like total idiots. And he pursued his task diligently, fueled by the fury of revenge for his dear cousin, who was eaten by a chef in a third-world country. Jag is coming for you next, Bourdain, mark my words. He could have done a lot more damage while he was there, and he demonstrated considerable restraint in not doing so.

Because that was just a setup for the big surprise.

You see, this all started years ago when the lizards planted a very special operative from their UK division. Can you guess which one of the network stars really works for our cold-blooded allies? I’ll give you a hint: he looks like a larger version of Christopher Eccleston (circa Doctor Who).

Yes! Robert Irvine! For those of you living under a rabid Norwegian balloon monster and have been unable to escape the methane emissions long enough to keep up with the entertainment news, one of our allies tipped off a reporter in St. Petersburg to the various deceits surrounding Irvine in February. And this time, my contact was laughing so hard she peed her pants right before losing consciousness from oxygen deprivation. Needless to say, the network did not appreciate her reaction and she no longer works there.

While our cold-blooded co-conspirators have done considerable damage to FN’s reputation, which I’m sure everyone agrees was fabulous, I want to assure you that the Illuminati will continue to engage in a slow, steady demolition of the network.

So have no fear, Rachel Ray will keep shouting at you, Sandra Dee will still be unable to actually cook, Paula Deen will still be a bitch, Guy Fieri will still be obnoxious, and with your votes, the Romulan will win The Next Food Network Star.