Have You Seen My Jacket?

I think that prick Reggie stole it. He's always stealing my shit after I pass out at parties. Over the weekend, we both went to Dirtbike's bon voyage party and we both had way too many pulls off the old Hypnotiq bottle. Plus, I may or may not have smoked a bong made out of an owl's skull. The jury's still out on that one. Anyway, I do remember wearing my UNLV jacket to the party, as it's always a real pussy magnet. And I'm pretty sure I was still wearing it after I fell down that flight of stairs and passed out in my own piss on the landing.

All I can say is that any dude that's willing to pry a UNLV jean jacket off a dude that's so fucked up that he fell down a flight of stairs and passed out in his own piss is a real jerkoff. We're talking professional-grade here. The Ford F-150 of dickwipes.

Reggie, if you're reading this, be ready. I'm gonna come after you with the force of fifteen falcons and make you wish you'd just stayed home and watched the Bonus Features from Airwolf: Season One instead.

Fango at the Flix: Super Mario Bros.

Fango at the Flix: Super Mario Bros.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I decided that it was time to introduce the Fangman’s nephews to a little tandem known as the Super Mario Brothers. Since I didn’t have an original NES, I thought the next best thing would be to play the movie for the little squirts.

First off, let me just say that the Old Man was a plumber from Brooklyn, the very same profession and origin as the title characters. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I brought home the first Mario Brother’s edition of Nintendo Power. “Finally some positive Italian American role models.” He said as a tear came to his eye. Well Pop, it’s a good thing you succumbed to falling down an elevator shaft years ago cuz this one’s a real shit burger.

The Tangs would be totally remiss if he didn’t address the casting. If there was ever an opportunity to give an authentic Italian a job, the role of Mario Mario (if you think about it, it’s his first and last name) would have to be it. I know at least half a dozen spaghetti slurping dagos that could knock that shit out of the park just by playing themselves. Instead, the job went to none other than the poor man’s Phil Collins, Bob Hoskins. An Englishman? You can’t get any further away from Italian on the caucasion scale than that of a limp-dick snaggle-toothed dandy.

Although angry, I thought I could forgive this gaffe if the plot was half-way decent. When John Leguizamo was introduced as Luigi, I took it personally. The dickhead can’t even grow a mustache! If the dude doesn’t have the requisite testosterone to grow a suitable mustache, he should stick to mincing around on stage as a Puerto Rican whore. I didn’t know what to tell my nephew when he asked, “Isn’t that the Puerto Rican guy from Ice Age?” Jesus. I found that I had to tell several lies to protect these young boys from the terrible truth – yes, you’re watching a film about Italian video game icons and, save fore a couple of steppin’ and fetchin’ goomba extras, the film contains exactly zero actual waps.

I’ll be brief summarizing the plot. For some reason, Luigi falls for this NYU broad who likes diggin’ in the dirt for fossils and shit. The next thing I know, she and Luigi are being muscled by the mob and, bing - they’re in another dimension dodging the likes of lizards in suits and “King Bowser Koopa” the arch-villain played by none other than that hyper-ventilating psycho from Blue Velvet. Also, said NYU broad is now princess? There’s this battle over a piece of meteorite, primordial ooze is involved somehow, dimensions may or may not merge, and a bunch of other bullshit.

Suffice it to say, this movie ruined Thanksgiving. Instead of bonding with my nephews over Italian pride, we were lobotomized and butt-fucked by the brainchild of some Japanese dick game programmer, who, for some reason decided to fetishize a couple of dago plumbers from Brooklyn. 1/2 Camaro.

Point/Counterpoint: Billy Lee v. Jimmy Lee

I Was Clearly Misguided When I Trusted You To Scale That Ladder And Retrieve My Chain

Remember the Level Two junkyard, when I took on three dudes at once so you could scale that ladder and retrieve my chain? How I was left to fend for myself with a series of tornado kicks and punches to my opponents' throats? Because I do. I selflessly repelled several members of the Black Warriors street gang just so that we (emphasis on we here) could recapture vital weaponry and actually stand a chance of rescuing our common love interest, Marian.

Or have you completely forgotten what this is about, Jim?

You know what they say about hindsight. Well, right now it's pretty fuckin' crystal clear. Because I now know that when you scaled that ladder and got your grubby paws all over that chain, my chain, the chain I had to beat the shit out of a huge black dude in a leather vest to obtain, it was just too great a bounty for you to stand. All you did was stand on that platform and swing that chain around like it was your dick at a Girls Gone Wild release party.

And what happened to your brother, your twin brother, you might ask? I got the shit kicked out of me by two mohawked, neon-yellow skinned attackers, both of whom we would've destroyed if finding in tandem.

You need to get your head in the game, Jim. We still have a factory and the woods to fight through before we even step foot in the boss' lair. So I suggest you Google "brotherhood," and quick. Because I'm fuckin' sick of this shit.

***

Chains are Intimidating as Hell…Duh?

Jesus, Billy- you really need to stop watching Charmed re-runs and learn how to hold down the fort so a brother can buy some time and get into his opponents' heads. Did you forget everything Sensai Dave taught us? How Roman soldiers would bang their shields with their swords in order to instill fear in their foe? Or how the terrible sound of bagpipes spelled death for the unfortunate hoards that opposed the Scots? I don’t mean to get all History Channel: Special Weaponry on you, but did you ever think for just one second that my wicked chain swing was at least part of the reason you beat the dudes you did? My game is both mental and physical, Bill. You seem to have completely ignored the former. We bring a comprehensive battle plan to the streets or we’re no better than those goldbrickin’ dicks, Bad Dudes.


You tell me to look ahead to the boss’ lair? My eyes are on the prize. I can’t help it if you can’t handle your shit. You and I both know that the window above the ladder is host to a whole grip of those dykes with whips who come out in droves if you’re not ready. I was standing there waiting to take on the lot of them. I can’t help it if they got second thoughts at the sight of my voluminous mane and sinewy chest, as I swung the fuck out of that chain and made those warrior Gertrude Steins re-think their sexuality.

Marian is gonna hear about this. Make no mistake. If we both make it to the final boss, I have a feeling it’s gonna come down to brother vs. brother. Will our sibling bond overcome the lusty eye of Marian fair? Or will you and I battle to the death for her hand? I, for one, am ready for anything. Can you say the same?