There are in this ancient world of ours (Earth) certain great evils which were first spawned way back in the day, when Dick Cheney still had hair, and when Canada was still a paradise, before the malignant evil of Quebec turned it all into an accursed morass of eternal night. Some evils however, are older even than that; older than fat people wearing spandex, older than the Metric system, older than even Ted Kennedy. What, you ask could be so ancient and twisted? The answer of course is, Michael Jackson. Yes, ever since he cut off the heads of the rest of the Jackson Five in order to steal their powers for himself, Michael Jackson has grown with ever-increasing rapidity to be the living incarnation of evil. While once upon a time, he actually looked like a normal black man, after his evil began to run amok Mace Windu had to go and reflect his own negative vibes back onto him, thus revealing Michael Jackson’s true hideous space alien-cave fish form for all the world to see. But much like Emperor Palpatine or Rosie O’Donnell, those who were already within his thrall were unshaken in their devotion to his diabolical schemes.
After briefly marrying Elvis’s daughter in order to at last get his revenge on the King, he also bought up all the rights to the Beatles’ music, in order to mooch off their greatness. He had been planning to infuse himself with the Elephant Man’s DNA, thereby making himself even freakier looking than even modern plastic surgery could make him, but happily, cooler heads prevailed, and the world was saved from almost certain grossed-outedness. So, having not had a hit record in over seven trillion years, and having spent all his money on nose jobs, ferris wheels, and monkeys (not that there’s anything wrong with spending all your money on monkeys, mind you, as long as they’re evil) he decided to become a complete sicko, a move which, in retrospect, appears to have only helped his career. Now, except for the occasional use of the words “ass” and “weaselboogers” I try to keep this site pretty family-friendly, and since we all know what Michael Jackson is into, I’ll let it suffice to say that Michael Jackson’s song “I’m Bad” has an entirely deeper and disturbing meaning to certain people who are, in fact, Macauly Culkin.
But now, after what was probably about the fourth trial of the century so far this century, Michael Jackson is back on the streets, wearing pajama pants and talking in a tiny little voice with reckless abandon. How then can you protect yourself and those you love from the greatest abomination created by the music industry since Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch? Let’s look at a few of the ways that our experts here at teacupmammoths.com have come up with.
First, use common sense. Like if you’re walking down the street, and one of those dust-buster-shaped child molester vans pulls up, and a really pale guy offers you a ferris wheel or a monkey if you come with him, Just Say No. Then fake a seizure, so he’ll think you’re crazy and leave you alone (hey, it worked in the Bible).
Look out for white guys in sunglasses. You see, most white guys in sunglasses are either Michael Jackson, an evil computer-generated FBI agent from the Matrix, or one of the Blues Brothers. Therefore, upon seeing a white guy with sunglasses, run up and unleash your awesome kung fu skillz upon him. Really, the odds are
If Michael Jackson invites you over to his house, say you’ll go, but later, and then send a robot gorilla with a bomb in it that’s just wearing your clothes. Michael Jackson will never know the difference (unless, of course, you’re one of those unlucky people who doesn’t look like a gorilla). Then, when he tries to touch the robot gorilla, it’ll just beat the white right off of him, and then explode in a gigantic fireball visible for miles (so if you do try this plan, keep an eye out for the mushroom cloud).
Finally, you can just call Batman. You see, Michael Jackson is really not that much different from the Joker, and as such is the case, Batman is more than capable of taking him down. Even if Michael Jackson has a giant clown mallet, or a funhouse of doom, Batman’s seen it all before, and can beat him like the proverbial red-headed stepchild that he isn’t.
So, in conclusion, don’t let the fact that Michael Jackson again walks the streets keep you from going out and doing all the things in life that you enjoy. Rather, think of it as an opportunity to cause some mayhem, and maybe even see the Batmobile (or go to the
