Weekly Column About Monsters - March 24th, 2018

Greetings, Doo...uh SEG-ers, it’s your...it’s old...I’m Ulysses...T...Uncleson, guest columnist who has never worked at SEG ever before. This week’s Weekly Column About Monsters is a real humding...super rad, yo. This week I’m taking a look at a mooching burnout and his Stockholm syndrome protege that’s also a very ungrateful niece...to somebody I don’t know...I assume her parents have siblings. Odds are, right? Exposure isn’t good enough for kids these days. They want to be paid. We’re...this publication I’m guest writing on for the very first time ever, is a webzine. What money do you think we have? I gave you...the guy who owns this publication I never even heard of before today...gave you an expense account but Gary blew it all on shrooms and blow. That guy dicked around for months with Mellonhead Kids, god knows how many different species of Bigfoot, and Interpol before he decided to get on the job I was paying him for. And now he wants back pay? No one cares about Mongolian Death Worms. I sent my niece to keep you in line and she ends up on your team, you’re like some sort of svengali. I should have listened to Merwin when I hired you. That’s right Llewellyn, you’re such a animal, Merwin can read your mind. I don’t overpay Hugo. I give him whatever’s left in the breakroom fridge on Friday afternoon. Which is mostly cat food.

I present to you, dear reader, definitive proof that to hunt monster, one must become a monster. When you need a monster hunted, make a monster do it. Just make sure you can handle the monster you hired to do it. This is where I...where the editor of this rag, Lord Classyskull, is it? I don’t know I’ve never met the man. But he has impeccable taste. This is where Cyrus Classyskull failed, ladies and gentlemen. He thought he could deal with the beast after the greater storm had passed. He didn’t have a plan. He told himself that the monster would wander off in search of another teat to suckle for beer money. But this monster earned a paralegal degree in the county slammer. 24 weekends for a DUI. Now he knows just enough to throw around terms for which I have to actually pay a lawyer just to find out whether or not he’s full of soup. I’ve had to sell some gold teeth to pay for all this. The transient wasn’t happy.