The Odyssey Pt.2: Odyssey Harder I Oh Captain, My Captain America burns, ravaged by the 20 Year Culture War. What started as a dispute over acceptable marketing turned bloody when Tony the Tiger was canceled for being exploitative to an endangered species. Violence erupted beneath the cries of murdered childhoods and the humanity of tigers. In the end, there were no winners. Society collapsed. Two men stranded and starving on the west coast have heard rumors of a powerful wizard in possession of a long forgotten ancient artifact in New Jersey that could right all of man’s past wrongs and set the world straight again, and have decided if they are to die, they will die fighting to save the world. So they head east. Set sail! Avast ye salty dogs! The radioactive winds blow. Hoist the lead sails, head east o’er The Great Glass Sea. Yo Ho! From the islands of Cali, to the shores of Shitcago. This crater of a million bombs, our lady love, it calls for us. Yo Ho! Thar she blows! At broadside, the chronotonian beast. She’s dipped back down dimensions. A kings bounty to who spots her next breech. You two, ya landlubbers, time to earn your keep. Grab your harpoons, man the whaleboats, or it’s the bottom Curie’s Locker for thee. Sing ya bilge suckers! We set sail for Kazarian Oh Captain, my captain is he Time whale in tow upon our return or keel hauled from bow to stern we’ll be We set sail for Kazarian Oh Captain, my captain Yo Ho Time whale in tow upon our return so To the shores of Shitcago we’ll go Yo Ho Let’s get one thing straight This is destiny Time won’t heal all wounds I’m introducing this bitch to entropy We set sail for Kazarian Oh Captain, my captain is he Time whale in tow upon our return or keel hauled from bow to stern we’ll be We set sail for Kazarian Oh Captain, my captain Yo Ho, The time whale is in tow now to The shores of Shitcago we go. Yo Ho! II Airstream Samurai The sprawling wasteland of Shitcago stretches from The Once Great Lakes to the slums of eastern New Tucky. 200 miles of rebar, tar pits and vampire grizzly bears who can’t die. Rumor is they struck a deal with the devil who was in search of more of a challenge after societal collapse made stealing human souls akin to shooting fish in a bucket with a grenade launcher at point blank range. True or not, swarms roam the ruins of Shitcago, and none who’ve met them have lived to tell the tale. Only two things here for a man to find, death and fates worse than. Sonic boom. A silver bullet. The top down on the jeep that pulls it. Helter Skelter on the radio. saw Jesus is on the dashboard. A herd of wild boar with laser swords came charging forth. Dispatched with panache. This here is bear country. Carnivores of horror hide around every single corner and you’ll never see em coming. Oh. The road ahead has a million ways for a man to die, but only one to live. Let me show ya. Jefe calling down the thunder, Bammann rumbling the earth below. Sathington working magnetic wonders. Diodes clip. Airwaves explode. Martial artists of the audio. It’s the code of The Airstream Samurai. It’s fight or die. No retreat. No man left behind for evil dines in hell tonight. A legacy from before the end of time. Living Armageddon one day at a time. If you hoping for Hoboken, you’ll have to learn the ways of We Samurai 3 Airstream free Bullet RV Ancient code No one knows Masters of the stink face riffing, no shit taking, thunder pounding, gummy eating, keepers of the secret lore and ancient rites of the Airstream Samurai III The Cult Of Joanne There are lands in this world that were forgotten to time before time forgot this hellish country. In the good times, before the war, evil was still nestled in the heart of it all. Black Eldritch horror has always walked this land. They say this fog runs from Lake Eerie all the way down to the Oh Hell No River. It never lifts. It never leaves, and inside an ancient beast waits to be freed. Ready to lick the bones of this world clean and begin his 10,000 year rule. They call him Joanne, devourer of souls. These are his lands, and woe be to any that tress pass. Silhouettes and shadows dancing in the fog. Swamp gasses hover over bogs. Through marsh and woodlands, eyes always watching us. I’ve seen them stalking, heard them laughing. Mocking us as demons do, calling out to each other through this opaque haze of doom. Gen and Jason, giants, come up from behind. Dave and Richard move in so quickly, with wolf like speed, and flank us from the right. Carmen the temptress tempts us with a sirens song. What’s this in front of me? A sight so obscene, DAMMIT STEVE! Then HE rises like a Phoenixlich Look upon my works ye mighty and despair for this darkness soon will descend everywhere. See the stars align and watch me feast upon your souls tonight. I’ll be freed (I will be freed) for this darkness soon will fall over everything, and you will know my name as Joanne when I feast upon thee. A hidden temple, a scene of sacrifice. Ancient daggers, Eldritch runes, tomes of abomination recited by candle light. The cloaked crowd gathers, chanting forsaken rhymes, their words absurd and have been unheard by human ears for eons before time. Revenge behind the evil in his eyes. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair for this darkness soon will descend everywhere. See the stars align and watch me feast upon your souls tonight. I’ll be freed (I will be freed) for this darkness soon will fall over everything, and you will know my name as Joanne when I feast upon thee. Chained to the wall, nothing left to do but wait and die. Joanne cackles with delight. Your hope is too delicious my precious, please don’t lose your fight. If you can name me by my birth right, my powers will leave me eternally. Then quiet. Someone mumbles behind us, I bet they’ll never guess Joseph Andrew Burton boss. Dammit Steve. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair for this darkness soon will descend everywhere. See the stars align and watch me feast upon your souls tonight. I’ll be freed (I will be freed) for this darkness soon will fall over everything, and you will know my name as Joanne when I feast upon thee. IV Verde Hell From Shitsburg to Doppeldelphia, he is legion. One man? 20 million men? It’s all the same. His name destroyed in the fires that burned down the annals of history. He transformed barren land into fertile fields. Ruins and remnants into beacons of hope and prosperity, but then came the avocados, and they were hungry. Mutant horror hides behind a utopian veil This paradise is quickly turning into a green hell These cannibal avocado clones will be the death of us all Misfits of a man obsessed. The hive mind moves as one. The rust belt overtaken as he becomes legion Every year the harvest yields death and never ending bloodlust Verde Hell A twisted brew of terror breeding unending hunger Feeding on the flesh and blood and brains, with drunken joy Rising up from fertile ground as bastards of unholy agricultural Mutant horror hides behind a utopian veil This paradise is quickly turning into a green hell These cannibal avocado clones will be the death of us all Whoa Verde Hell Whoa Hybrid clones mean horror business Verde Hell V How To Shake Hands In The Apocalypse Hoboken. The end of the world. Population 1. A ancient from before the before times. His titles are many. Wizard. Warlock. Angel of Death. Keeper of Oblivion. Some will tell you he’s an Angel, sent hear to save us. Others, a demon waiting to feast on our dying breath. With him, somewhere in his unholy shrine, resides the magic to fix this world. There’s no turning back now…. The ending beginning. Enter the shrine. You feel the magic in the air. Something lost to time. The smell of pulp and mold surrounds your head. Vinyl and magnetic tape lay dreaming, not dead. A man in a black shirt in the middle practicing some unknown ritual. Forever living outside of the past and future Offering his hand to draw you in further. “Would you care to experience Oblivion?” Electric humming sizzles though the air Eldritch machines crackle to life everywhere The printing on the spindle’s casing lost Ancient rites to magic the world has long forgot. The man in black motions his fingers as a deafening sound fills the chambers At full blikrieg a pounding rhythm overtakes us Distorted treble thunderous bass shaking our insides As we experience Oblivion. Then we found buried beneath stacks demo tapes from the 1980’s the true meaning of a friend. I guess wisdom will reside in the most unlikely places We found the universal truth there’s no secret magic hidden in the making of the brew. It’s the journey not the destination that brings change and the real magic is the friends we made along the way. Come experience Oblivion. And so it was learned, there is no secret magic in the world. Only what we choose to make of our time here and the amazing things we can do when we work together in mutual respect, kindness and friendship. That lost truth was spread far and wide, and the message echoed in all directions like wild fire to finally set all the wrongs right. And then humanity died out because instead of those things everyone went back to blaming each other like a bunch of cunts. Which honestly, you should have seen coming. What did you think would happen, humanity would become decent out of nowhere? We already established magic doesn’t exist. Besides, I like happy endings. Everyone died, and it was truly, a better world. The End