Toasted!Zine – MAY 18/2004
VOLUME II – ISSUE XVI
by brandon schatz


'Ello, 'Ello, 'Ello
Allow me to tell you a fable. A fable of a man named Craig.

Craig lets me eat up bandwidth (or whatever it's called) on his website. He's (from what I can gather) of normal height, and is an all around nice guy. Naturally, I should be the last person teasing him about various things that I'm almost sure aren't true about him, but I do.

It all started innocently enough, you see. Back in the day when I was writing a full on comic book industry satire column called "Because I Said So" for this site, I came up with the crazy idea of comiXtreme being a secret society of superheros.

I turned Doug into the Incredible Man Man, who had the power of one ordinary man (think about it...), Ryan Scott Ottney (former news monkey in chief and guy who should shoulder partial blame for my column writing for helping me write a *decent* one) because Captain Mettalica (the band named misspelled to also, turn his crank), Blake became non-existant because I forgot to ask for his permission in screwing with his "image", and Craig became "Yes Man".

His power? To agree with anything and anyone. The real Craig didn't like that all too much, so naturally, I continued to roll with it.

For the first few appearances in this column, Craig merely agreed with things. Every now and then, he still does, and to me, that's funny.

But this week, you meet the next phase in my twisted vision of Craig. You all have probably taken notice of my ability to not describe a single character's physical attributes at all. That'll change soon enough (what's this about pictures of all the characters on SOTS.com???), and step number one, is a matter of Craig's dimensions. It's a good thing he's known this has been coming for a while, or else I'd be dead in about two seconds from the time you started reading this message (wow... funny seeing how I've been tossing the idea of a character death around...).

So before that happens, read on!

And always...

Stay lightly toasted!

-b.



Comic Shop Hopping

I didn't grab a whole lot this week, but of the stuff I did get, here's what did it for me.

Mystique #14
You knew this was going to happen eventually.

Sean McKeever of "YOU NEED TO BUY SENTINEL" fame starts his run with this issue, and let me tell you, I am impressed. I only purchased one edition of Mystique prior to this issue, and good ol' McKeever hasn't skipped a beat with the style that has worked for this title all along. And hey, the art isn't bad either. Thus, she stays on my pull list. Power to the McK!

Verdict: 4.5 "Fries with that Shake" out of 5.

Teen Titans #11
Well, this titles just isn't doing it for me anymore. I really wanted it to, because the first arc was AWESOME, but it's just not clicking no more, and as of next issue, I'm out. Not to say that Geoff Johns doesn't make a good story, nor does Mike McKone make bad pictures, no. It's just, I was raised as a Marvel zombie, and the continuity of it all is lost on me, so... them's the breaks.

Verdict: 2.5 "Fries with that Shake" out of 5.

The Dead @ 17 Mega Pack (Trade and Blood of Saints #1 & 2)

For the price that this cost me (a trade costs more than an actual copy?) I thought, this better be good. It was. In fact, it's almost like Joss Whedon wrote it, except if Joss wrote it, certain things would be less pointy (see Joss' Fray trade from Dark Horse), and there'd be less T&A, but hey. A good story is a good story, right?

Right. Thumbs up for Viper and Josh Howard for this book. It's very very good. Minus the pointies.

Verdict: 4 "Fries with that Shake" out of 5.

Behind the 'Zines
episode twelve – unexpected turn of events.

Darren poked his head out of the janitor's closet and very carefully took a look around the central work area of comiXtreme.

"Okay, Sudsie," he whispered to his lackey, "The coast is clear. I can't see Andrea anywhere, so on my go, we're going to sneak out of here and make a run for Craig's office."

Sudsie glared at Darren.

"I don't care how gay it'll look when we both sneak out of the closet," Darren grumbled, "One way or another, we're going to have to make it to Craig's."

Sudsie shrugged his shoulders.

"That's right. Now, on my go, okay? Ready... se—"

"—just going to pick up some Windex. The window in my office is practically covered with dir—"

The closet door swung wide open and Craig Reade went to reach for a bottle of window cleaner. Darren slapped his hand away.

"If it weren't for the fact that you're only three feet tall, I'd let you reach around all you want, but you and me both don't want you to grab anything in the general area of where your hand was going," Darren warned.

Craig blinked and pointed his head up towards Darren's. He noticed Sudsie standing behind him.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Craig asked.

Sudsie scrunched his face in anger.

"That all depends on what gets you going," Darren stated casually, "But enough small talk, Craig. Heh. 'Small' talk. Craig. That's funny because I didn't mean to say that and you're-"

"Three feet tall, yes, I get it Darren."

Darren giggled again, "You said 'yes'."

"Why is that funny?"

"I'm not sure," Darren puzzled.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?" Craig stated impatiently, tapping his tiny foot.

"I heard it through the grape vine that if there were someone looking to be an intern, you were the guy to hook them up."

"You could've gone to see Andrea or Blake too..."

"Yeah. About that. This is a buddy of mine from O'Malley's Chugs n' Jugs. He calls himself Samurai Daddy, but I calls him Sudsie."

"I'm supposed to approve the hiring of one of your friends?" Craig questioned, "The only thing you yourself have actually done around here was set a toilet on fire!"

"Aw, someone remembered!" Darren said in a mocking 'you're so 'adorable' voice.

"How could I forget!" Craig fumed, little fists flailing about in the air, "You set fire to the only one I could get on without having to pull myself up a foot and standing a chance of giving myself a swirly!"

"Tell me... how does one such as yourself get with the ladies?" Darren asked perplexed.

Craig sighed, "let's just say I'm bigger where it counts, okay Darren?"

Darren's face pulled a George-W.-thinking-about-whether-or-not-to-get-a-Big-Gulp-or-a-Double-Big-Gulp before it grinned with realization, "Oh, I get it. You're one of those people who thinks having a big heart makes up for their shortcomings, right? Dude, you're not ugly enough to be thinking that way."

Craig winced as the back of his head started to ache, "Look, what's it going to take to end this conversation? You want me to approve your little friend? Fine. It's done."

"Really?" Darren said, "Huh. I didn't think I was being that annoying. I mean... I didn't even have to use my bargaining chip."

"Bargaining chip, you say?"

"Uh, yeah. Bargaining chip."

Craig rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "What is this... bargaining chip?"
W
The next day...
"Thanks for killing Meagan," Brandon muttered, his head face down on his desk.

"I did not kill Meagan, I just wrote the column for you yesterday," Amy muttered offhandedly as she rushed through the office. She hastily grabbed the stuffed bunny Brandon had propped up on the desk and shoved it in a bag, then proceeded to grab a few other items off the desk, "She's probably off at a relative's house, getting a break from you and Scott and the incredible freak show you put on in here everyday."

"Hey!" Brandon yelled incoherently, pushing himself up in his seat, "Where do you think you're going with all that stuff?"

"Away," Amy muttered coldly, "I'm quitting."

"You can't quit," Brandon yelled, jumping out of his chair as Amy made her way out the door.

"That's too bad, because I just did."

"You have to give two weeks notice..."

"Not if something came up."

"What came up and why does it involve the stuffed bunny I was going to give to Meagan?"

Amy whirled around and corrected, "To me."

"What?"

"You were giving the bunny to me. Your intern. For working so hard, remember?"

Brandon shot a look of confusion at Amy, "I... yes, well like you said, something came up. Something's still up. I mean, we haven't even found Meagan yet and... why doesn't that bother you?"

"I could ask you the same question," Amy grumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's been missing for eight days now, and for the amount of time you spend at this god forsaken office, you could be out there looking for her. Like Scott is. Scott's her ex even!" Amy fumed, "Obviously, there's something more to all this... this moping and crap that you're trying to pull, so what is it Brandon. Tell me."

Brandon opened his mouth to reply and closed it again. He sighed and shook his head slowly while giving a weak smile.

Then, he opened his mouth again and said, "I-"

"ALL BOW BEFORE CRAIG READE! GAINT AMOUNST THE LITTLE PEOPLE!" came a cry from Brandon's right.

Craig Reade was coming down the hallway, propped up upon Sudsie's shoulders while an amused Darren Jess watched from a safe distance.

"YOU THERE! CRETIN!" Craig bellowed, pointing at Greg who was in his path, "WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS, DESTEBING MY PATH."

"Forgive me, my liege," Greg gladly played along, "But I request the attention of the young fellow Darren of Toastshire, if you are so inclined to grant me audience."

"IT SHALL BE DONE!" Craig announced, "LEGS! MOVE ME TO THE STREET SO I CAN MASH ME SOME CARS!"

Sudsie glared at Darren angrily as he tromped by.

"You wanted a job," Darren grinned, "What's the happy-haps, Greggers?"

"Ah, Darren, I am in need of your assistance in an endeavor," Greg spoke.

"Dude, if you're looking for someone to hook you up with the ladies, I'm not in the business of teaching you how to be swave, but Craig there keeps on muttering something having a big heart will bag you some womens..."

"No, no, not in that kind of endeavor. I do believe I am set for the wenches for the time being," Greg explained.

"Oh-ho! Playah, playah, whose the lucky uh... chambermaid?"

"Darren, a fine worldly gentleman of myself does not kiss and tell with trepidation."

"I'm going to pretend to know what you just said and listen to this other thing you need my help with."

"It has come to my attention that you have been looking for a way to dredge up fear in mine boss?"

"Yeah, I've been looking to scare Andrea," Darren muttered, "I tried to freak her out with a headless bunny doll, but when I watched her through the office window, she was just playing around with it. I thought being a lumberjack, she'd be all in tune with the woodsy creatures and whatnot."

"Ah, quite," Greg stated whimsically, "But really, it is far from the truth. There is one thing that Andrea fears above all things in the world."

"And that is???"

Greg reached into his cloak and pulled out a giant stack of Chuck Austen X-Men comics.

"Dude, how did you do that?"

"Tut, tut," Greg scolded, "A magician never tells his secrets. Now, here is what I am in need of you to do. Could you please take these and tack various pages onto the walls of Andrea's office?"

"I could and would in a heartbeat, Greggers, but I can't help but thinking there is a catch. Are you looking to get me killed or something, or what's the deal?"

"I'm merely in need of some time off, and having mine owner distracted would find me very well."

"Going off to please your lady?" Darren grinned slyly.

"As a matter of fact, indeed I am."

"Well, consider it done. Andrea's not around is she?"

"No, she is currently the audience of Blake, whom is courting her to be in his next production."

"Next production?"

"Super Blake VS. Lumberjack Lass."

"Heh. Well, what are you waiting for, Greg, hand me them butches over!"

Greg gave Darren the stack of comics and Darren whisked away. He then went to go out the main doors of comiXtreme, but Brandon and Amy were blocking his way.

"Well?" Amy questioned.

"Darren told me," Brandon stated simply.

"Darren told you what?"

"About the bunny. He was snooping through my desk, like he always does, and he saw it," Brandon explained, "You were going to give me a stuffed toy, right?"

Amy did an impression of Brandon by opening her mouth to reply and then closing it.

"That's why he made that crack out the stuffed animals I gave.. or... was going to give you," Brandon said, "'The only people who are supposed to get stuffed animals are little kids and boyfriends' or something like that."

Amy continued her impression.

Brandon looked down at the ground, shuffled one of his feet and continued, "This past week's been hell for me, really. Meagan going missing, and then the thought of you... in my head, all just swirling around... I just... I never thought about you that way and I really couldn't or... or can't even begin to think about it all with everything happening right now, and I didn't... I didn't want to choose at a time like this. So I just... stayed behind. Let Scott deal with it."

Amy stood flabbergasted, "I don't know what to say."

"Well..."

Brandon didn't get another word out, as Scott tapped him on the shoulder. Brandon turned around and was greeted with a punch to the face that sent him to the floor.

"Gah!" Brandon screamed, "What the hell was that for?"

The entire office began to watch with rapt attention.

"That's for Meagan," Scott yelled out loud.

"What the... what do you mean that's for Meagan?" Brandon bellowed, pushing himself up from the ground," What's wrong with her? Did you find her?"

"Yes, I found her, you sick little freak!" Scott yelled.

"Where is she?"

"She's in the Intern's Break Room, where she's a safe distance from you," Scott snarled.

"I don't understand, what did I do?" Brandon asked.

Scott grabbed Brandon by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Greg took the cue to get the hell away from the area and ran up to Amy.

"We shall let them go to fisticuffs without our intervention," he told her.

They both walked away quickly.

"I don't want you near her, ever, ever again, do you hear me?" Scott snarled, inched from Brandon's face.

"Scott, what is this about."

"What is this about? What is this about?" Scott dug through his pockets and tossed a bunch of papers in Brandon's face, "The letters, you idiot."

Brandon's face grew confused again, "What letters?"

"The letters. The secret admirer letters," Scott grumbled, "She started getting them again when I had to move into your office. They were all over her apartment. She was in tears when I found her."

"I thought you were writing the letters," Brandon said.

"Oh, don't play stupid with me. You weren't making a single move on Meagan the whole time we were in your office. All you did was pester and bug me. Obviously, you were doing this little sick... thing of yours on the side," Scott snarled.

"I didn't write the letters!" Brandon yelled.

"You know, I don't think I'd have as much a problem with them if they were like the first ones," Scott said, "But they started to get sick, Brandon. I mean, threatening to kill her if she wasn't going to be with you?"

"I would never hurt her, and you know it."

"Tell me one good reason why I should believe you."

"I'll go you one better Scott. I wanted her to be with you."

"What?"

"You heard me. I wanted her to be with you," Brandon yelled, "Not at first, but then I did some soul searching. I had a few talks, and I realized something. When she was with you, she was happy. And not just the normal kind of happy, but the kind of happy that makes everyone who's all alone, including me, sick with jealousy and all that crap. And I realized that as long as she was happy... even with a person like you, I was happy.

"That's why I never made a move on her when she was in the office, Scott. I would never hurt her."

Scott did an impression of Amy doing an impression of Brandon.

"I thought you were the one writing the letters," Brandon muttered again.

"I never said I did," Scott explained.

"But then... who?"

Amy and Greg made their was down the staircase to the Intern's Break Room. They walked inside and saw Meagan.

"How bad is it?" Meagan asked them.

"Not as bad as it's going to be," Greg stated coldly.

He produced a gun from his cloak.

Amy's mouth dropped open.

"Oh crap."

Continued...