Toasted!Zine – APRIL 27/2004
VOLUME II – ISSUE XIII

The All-Blingin'-Super-Fly-Beat-A-Muppet-With-A-Mop-For-Irony ANNIVERSARY EDITION!!!

Gold Encrusted 'Ello, 'Ello, 'Ello

Hey kids. Long time, no talk. Where've you been? If you said over at my stuff over at Still on the Shelf Online, then by golly give yourself a big pat on the back! You've obviously become quite enamored with my web comic Lost Toast that you've taken to visiting it daily, even though it's merely a weekly comic, and you've re-read all the achieved Toasted!Zines and have discovered that in lieu (curse the French!) of my absence last week, instead of a variant edition of the previous Tuesday's T!Z, you got an exclusive never before seen Behind the Scenes at Behind the 'Zines Special.

If you've been looking at some of the other stuff there, such as Blake and Ronée's latest Work in Progress or the all new an ultra wicked serial by Lumberjack Weekly's Burly Girly of the Week (Apr. 13th, 2004 Ed.) Andrea Speed, then... well, give yourself a less zealous pat on the back. Not to say that their stuff isn't as good as mine, no. I'm just that conceited! *grins*

*fewf* Now that I'm done with shameless pimping of things you should be reading or be stoned (in the bad way) to death, onto a grand explanation of the evils of lateness.

I don't like being late. I didn't like it when I was consistently late in September with column installments not fit for anyone to read, and I didn't like it when I completely missed out on posting this column last Tuesday. Partly because it was a specifically timed Anniversary issue, and partly because due to illness, I completely missed out on the day entirely.

But hey. What can you do but kick up dirt and moan about my inability to work ahead? Oh, that's right. Watch Two Germans and a Paddle.

Okay, okay, I promise to stop now. But only if you read my grand and special Anniversary Edition of Toasted. I'm posting the first part this week, and the second part next week, just so that you don't have to read a good twenty pages of stuff, mmkay? Grand.

Stay lightly Toasted!

-b.


Character-Rivialicious Toasted News Boxers

Due to the extended revelries of this edition, TNB will be short this week, and is as a result, different in format. However, it's still as juicy as Tara Reid *sigh* Read on!

The CrossGen Scare

A Special Report by Amy Johnson

Recent visits to CrossGen came with a very creepy sensation of death as promised releases proved to be fairly empty after Bill Rosemann and Chris Orr both left the company a short while ago. Seeming everything had been left unupdated in that time span, and titles that were supposed to ship, were not doing so. Trouble and death thoughts were running rampant in several minds, however a visit yesterday proved a glimmer of hope with the taking-over-hype-stress Barbera Kesel began turning the comic pipes back on, announcing upcoming comics and their release dates.

Here's what should be coming at you, if this revival maintains.

This Wednesday:

ABADAZAD 3
KIS KISS, BANG BANG 4
SOJOURN 34
WAY OF THE RAT 23

On sale May 5:

BRATH 14
NEGATION WAR 2

Support this company! It churns out great comics every week and deserves way better than this turmoil.


Revelation Filled Behind the 'Zines
episode nine – the other shoe drops

"It's a shoe."

Brandon walked into the office with the aforementioned item in his right hand. His face wore a questionable expression. Darren Clarke and Amy Johnson's faces had clearly been to the same tailor.

"Are you sure Blake told you that you'd rue the day you left his dress rehearsal, or shoe the day?" Darren asked from his perch upon his woefully pop filled beer fridge.

Brandon blinked, "If anyone else other than the only grown man I have seen wearing underoos outside of his onesie had sent this to me, I wouldn't have even give that sentence a second thought."

Amy Johnson (sitting behind Brandon's desk) reached her hand out and said, "Let me see that."

Brandon complied as Amy snatched the shoe and lifted the tongue, "Doesn't look like there's a bug inside it or anything. I don't get it."

"That makes three of us," Brandon muttered.

Darren scrunched his face," I resent that comment."

"What. You know why Blake sent me a shoe as punishment?"

"I'd bet a random hobo's life on it."

"Well, by all means."

Darren stuck his foot in the handle of the fridge door and pulled it open. He reached down and grabbed a (*sigh*) pop, "It's some kind of crazy acting thing that the kids learn about nowadays. Basically, the writer of the scene creates a volatile situation, tosses in a meaningless prop partway through the act, and turns it into some sort of catalyst for all kinds of crap to come pouring out."

Brandon blinked again.

"Either that, or he just sent it to you because he thinks it's his crazy sidekick that'll kung-fu your tiny little butt if you turn your back long enough," Darren grinned, popping the top, "One of the two."

"How do you know that?" Brandon asked.

Darren shook his head and made a 'tsk, tsk' sound, "Brandon my masculinely challenged friend, you need to find yourself a prank war so that you can learn the rules of engagement."

"Maybe he isn't immature enough to take part ina prank war," Amy muttered, putting the shoe down on Brandon's desk.

"Yeah!" Brandon agreed, "Maybe I... hey wait a tick. I thought you thought I was immature. You say so every time week we write a Toasted! News Boxer."

"That's not ture," Amy pointed out, "Sometimes I just call you a geek."

"Gosh, Amy," Darren shrugged, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it sounds like you're hot for a B-Dog Sammich."

"What have I told you about calling me B-Dog?"

"I'm only supposed to call you that when you're feeling saucy?"

"There are so many things wrong with this conversation," Amy muttered, turning her attention to the half-typed column on the screen.

"Actually, I told you not to call me that ever," Brandon said, "And we're getting off topic. What does your weird acting knowledge have to do with the prank war you have with Blake?"

Darren pointed at his head and said, "You have to know your enemy's strengths and likes, man. That way, you can totally mess with them. See, Blake, knows that my strengths lie in sleeping and drinking, so what does he do? Move Scott in here and boom! Less daytime napping, and no beer in my fridge."

"Oh, well, that's just great," Brandon muttered, "So you're the reason Scott's in here?"

"No, Brandon. He moved him in because there's a shortage of space," Darren tossed off sarcastically, "There are three empty offices in this place! Three! That's like the same number of days Scott has spent very lonely nights in jail with very lonely men."

"I heard that, Darren," Scott snarled, briskly walking into the office.

"Kind of the point, toolbox."

"Look, I have no time for this battle of you making attempts at witty remarks and me commenting on how you and Brandon are way too close to be 'just friends'. I'm looking for Meagan, have you seen her?"

"Look, Scott, just because you ate that piece of broccoli, and just because you spent those lonely nights in jail, that doesn't make you a gay vegetarian. You don't have to pretend to be looking for you 'girlfriend'."

"...right, again, saving the Jailbait Theatre for next week, thank you."

"Don't you mean, 'Yar, Darren. Yer thought be much welcomed, but—"

"Okay, also, enough with the friggen' pirate jokes," Scott fumed, "I get it, okay? Blake's on a power trip and he's making Brandon and I wear pirate costumes. So funny. Ha ha."

"Oh, suck it up, Scott," Brandon seethed, "At least he's doing this for the company and not to keep anyone away from.. oh, I don't know, his girlfriend."

"That's only because Blake doesn't have a gi—"

Scott's angry face melted away and was quickly replaced by one that yelled 'I am so not getting any tonight', which confused Brandon for a second.

That was when he saw the shoe sail into Scott's head.

"Son of a—"

Brandon whirled around just in time to duck under an oncoming vase of flowers that had been thrown by a very angry looking Meagan Clarke.

"What's a vase of flowers doing in my office?" one part of Brandon's head asked.

The other kept on yelling, "Sweet sassy mollassy, get out of the line of fire!"

Naturally, Brandon crawled away, watching Amy gleefully hand her fellow intern Brandon's coffee mug. Brandon grinned. It was nice of Amy to realize that he didn't really care what was thrown at Scott, just as long as it was done, and he couldn't be blamed for it.

"I can't believe you lied to me!"

Mug. Ker-smash!

"I hate you!"

Sentinel trade paperback. Fump!

"I never want to see you again!"

The DVD set of every episode of "Two Germans and a Paddle" ever made. Clatter!

She then kind of slumped over and began to cry, shortly before bolting from the doorway.

"Holy over reaction, Batman!" Darren said, emerging from underneath the mattress in the middle of the room. He had spilled his pop everywhere upon the carpet, "I can't believe you two are even fighting over that big ol' bucket of crazy."

"She is not crazy," brandon defended.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How does Chock Full O' Nuts grab you?"

Brandon bristled, "Scott, you aren't going to let him insult your girlfriend, are you?"

"Why not?" Scott shrugged, pushing himself up from behind his desk, which he had chosen to dive behind, "It's not like he's far off base anymore."

Brandon narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, ever since we've been stuck in this friggen' office together, she's been acting like one big giant freak show, and it's starting to get on my nerves!" Scott grumbled, "I mean... one second she's happy, the next minute she's crying, and you know what? She's just not worth the hassle."

Brandon's jaw dropped, "You, are an as-"

"You know what?" Scott cut him off, "Maybe I am. But at least I know to get out when the building's on fire. You can go off and try to win her over with your feminine charms, there, Brandon. I don't care anymore."

Brandon slowly shook his head, opened his mouth to say something, and then went to chase after Meagan. Blake Petit jumped in his path from just outside the door.

"Stop, you fiendish pirates you! It is time to perform my masterpiece!" Blake announced, hands made into fists upon his hips.

"Blake, could this just wait one second?" Brandon asked.

Blake narrowed his eyes, "There is a reason why the wicked are punished, Captain Toast Beard."

"And if I don't do the play?"

"I will cast you into my Fortress of Blake-itude and have Ronée give you fifty lashings!" Blake announced, "And then, I might fire you."

Brandon crinkled his face.

"Fine. Lets do this and get it over with then."

Darren, Scott, Blake and Brandon left the room.

Amy stopped pretending to be interested in writing the column and looked at the shoe. She cursed.

"Stupid shoe."

End.



Character Death-Defying Later...

Well ay-bo'y, that's my two cents. Stay tuned to Toasted! (and specifically Behind the 'Zines) for the next little while for the death of a major player. Things are pretty much as set in motion now, and tiny little miniscule things that have happened in past BHZ' will be playing their parts. If you can figure out who is going to die and who is going to cause it, you get a cookie for your silence.

But until that happens...

Stay Lightly Toasted!

-b.