IntricacyMan and the steamy laundry!
And now, yet more adventures of IntricacyMan!
“Who won the Math Nobel Prize in 1782?” “Whence Canada?” “Live or let die?”
All these questions, and more, can be answered by IntricacyMan: Liver of life! Lungs of Sebastian iron! Arms of nanotubes!
Today, IntricacyMan confronts e-vil in the laundromat.
IntricacyMan whistled as he walked into the laundromat only to be suddenly confronted by e-vil!
“Hello, IntricacyMan,” an e-vil voice said, coming from an e-vil body stepping out of the appropriately symbolic shadows.
Oh no, it is Dark Bob, nemesis of IntricacyMan!
“Hello, Black Bob,” said IntricacyMan, levelly. IntricacyMan says things levelly as not to let loose his white-hot anger.
“It’s—it’s Dark—gah! You have bested me once again, IntricacyMan.”
“It’s what I do,” shrugged IntricacyMan.
“Anyway, so good of you to join us. It seems like you have a dilemma here.” Black Bob gestured toward the sign posting the prices of the laundromat.
IntricacyMan shifted his gaze from Black Bob to the sign. The regular prices were slashed. In their place, scrawly red paint announced $100 and $200 prices for washing and drying. Standing next to it was a washerwoman with her hands and legs tied together.
IntricacyMan let out a gasp.
“You see, you can either shell out for the laundromat prices or—”
“pay Gloria here to do it for me, at much lower prices but simultaneously supporting her destructive cocaine habit that’s breaking her family apart,” said Intricacy Man, finishing the thought.
“—pay—gah! I could’ve said that better. You always do this. You always have to be the last one to have a—”
“thought,” said Intricacy. IntricacyMan, that is.
“I hate you, IntricacyMan! I hate you so!” screamed Black Bob.
He cleared his throat. “So what’ll it be, IntricacyDoofus?”
IntricacyMan thought about this. “Can’t I just heal her addiction?”
“Wait, that’s not one of your superpowers,” said Black Bob, flipping through his notes.
“Yes it is. It’s in my authorized autobiography.” IntricacyMan pulled out a hefty three-volume tome, pages gilded with gold and bound in leather.
“You know I can’t afford that. I have your Wikipedia page here, and it doesn’t mention ‘healing addictions’ at all.”
“Perhaps you should look closer, Dark Boob.”
“Shut up, shut up, I’ve got this,” said Dark Boob as he flipped through the pages.
IntricacyMan tiptoed closer and closer until, all of a sudden, he slammed Dark Boob’s nose in the book!
SLAM!
“Mmph!” exclaimed Dark Boob as he bled all over the laundromat in excruciating pain.
Quickly, IntricacyMan sprang toward Gloria, searching her yearning body.
SEARCH!
He pulled out a plastic baggie of cocaine. “I’ll save this for later!”
KA-POW!
“Aren’t you going to heal me,” said Gloria?
“Who do you think I am? Jesus?”
RETORT!
And so IntricacyMan took to the skies, resolving to never volunteer and do laundry for the local orphanage again. There were better ways to serve out the community service, he thought.
“Niy’ll nyet nyou nyext tine, Nintracy Nan!” said Dark Boob.
Stay tuned next week for more exciting adventures of IntricacyMan!