The Mighty Bobman and His Intrepid Canine Companion Rex the Wonder
Dog Go To Hell!!!! Part 9
By David Nowell 1993
Turning over in his sleep, Robert Q. Smith thrashed back and forth
beneath his Star Wars bed sheets. His loyal companion Rex the Wonder Dog,
sleeping on the floor of Bob’s bedroom, suddenly awoke and began to look
around for the cause of Bob’s discomfort. Sensing nothing, Rex settled back
down, but kept an eye open just in case.
Suddenly, Bob jumped out of bed and screamed! “Oh my eye!” screamed
Bob, “I just had the worst nightmare Rex! I dreamed that me and you were
fighting a race of aliens called the Vogons, and that I beat them, but you
died, and then I was in a laboratory and a scientist said that I dreamed
that whole encounter. It makes my head spin just thinking about it! Wait!
What if I’m dreaming now!” Bob then proceeded to bang his head on the desk
332.8 times, and then said, “Well, I guess I’m not dreaming, unless of
course I’m imagining in my dream that I’m feeling pain, but I’m actually not
because I’m dreaming that I’m thinking about a dream that says my entire
life was only a dream. Or something like that. Anyway, it’s only 2:30 in
the morning, maybe if we go thwart some evildoers I’ll feel better. To the
Throwing on his costume, composed of a crimson cape, green boots,
azure tights, and a chartreuse and magenta shirt with the green flourescent
plaid ‘B’ trademark, the Mighty Bobman and his intrepid canine crimefighting
companion Rex the Wonder Dog, clad in an orange cape with an amber mask,
were ready for action.
Conveniently seeing a crime in progress, Bob leaped out of the car,
leaving Rex to take the wheel, and ran helter-skelter toward the two
jaywalking juvenile delinquents. “Stop I say!” yelled Bob, “for I am the
Mighty Bobman, keeper of the sacred powers of Convenience and Blazing
Crayons of Death, defender of the innocent, righter of wrongs, and punisher
of jaywalkers! Now then, young ruffians, what do you have to say for
“Hey man, what’s your problem, we didn’t do anything wrong,” the
first thug replied.
“Yeah,” said the second lackey.
“On the contrary my friends, you have just contributed to the
general air of moral decay in this fine city of Megalopolis. If everyone
were to jaywalk, do you know what would occur? Chaos, anarchy! And we
couldn’t have that. If we did, I would have to spend all my time preventing
crime and would be unable to lecture you.”
“Hey, I don’t know what the big deal with jaywalking is. I mean,
I’ll tell you what, we just killed six people and robbed an ice-cream man.
If you’re going to apprehend us, why don’t you do it for that?” asked the
“Yeah,” the second thug said in an affirmative tone.
“Now, now, I know you don’t want to face the jaywalking charges, so
I’m sure you’re just making up that stories. Those guns in your pockets are
probably just water pistols too.”
“No they’re not!” yelled the first thug.
“I’ll just give you a warning this time, but remember to cross at
the light!” Bob, satisfied that he had done some good in the world,
returned home and slept soundly, awakening just in time to go down to the
only 7-11 in Megalopolis and begin his shift.
While making a pina-colada Slurpee, Bob slipped, caught his hand on
a pole, from which a ring slid onto his finger, conveniently making him
intangible just in time for a bullet to pass harmlessly through him.
Unfortunately for our protagonist, he also sunk down into the earth, having
no mass, and, unable to take the ring off due to the aforementioned lack of
mass, began his descent into Hell.
Passing through the various geographic stages, Bob gawked at the
herd of pink flamingos, goggled at hordes of Elvis impersonators, guffawed
at 5 mimes telling jokes, and didn’t giggle, because he’s a superhero and
superheroes don’t go for that kind of stuff.
Walking into Hades, Bob was confronted by Cerberus, who began to
attack him, but suddenly paused, tore off two of his heads, and was revealed
as Rex the Wonder Dog!
“Rex! I had no idea this was your second job! That’s amazing. Oh
well, since we’re down here, let’s thwart some evil, and maybe grab a
Slurpee or five.”
“What’s that boy? Satan’s evil? Nah, he’s just doing his job.
Tell you what though, anyone who could be his secretary has got to be
diabolic. How about if we halt that evil-doer?”
Skipping through the various levels of Hell, Bob slipped in the icy
stage and his spiffy ring o’ intangibility fell off his hand, along with a
micro-bacterium that wreaked so much havoc in Hell that, unbeknownst to Bob,
all of the inhabitants of Hell that might have blocked Bob’s path were
suddenly and instantly reduced to quivering masses of jello.
Continuing on in his journey, Bob finally reached the secretary’s
office, where he gave her a specially crafted crayon he had just created.
It was a green crayon, with the paper put on in reverse. This nullified
her evil tendecies, and she quickly ran upstairs and applied as God’s
“Well, that was fun Rex, but I really think I should head back up.
Oh, when does your shift down here end? Oh great! So you can come up with
Two hours later, wherein Bob reaches a turning point in his life
“That’s it! After all these years, why not? I’m going to do it!
Let’s go to the store Rex, I’m ready to buy a lottery ticket!”
That night, wherein Bob realizes he didn’t win six million dollars
“Hey, I didn’t want the money anyway. I mean, heck, what would I
do with it? Just spend it all trying to get a Chaos Orb, that’s all.
Well, let’s go see if we can find a consistent plot, we haven’t done that
Meanwhile, in a secluded warehouse, evil doings were afoot, well
on their way to establishing a plot.
“Okay Guido, do you have the dynamite?”
“Excellent, now all we need is someone to take care of that
infernal Bobman character!”
“I’ll do it!”
“Who are you?” the mysterious crime boss whose identity,
personality, and looks shall remain a mystery because, honestly, the
writer’s too lazy to come up with any of these characteristics, asked.
“I am……(insert dramatic pause here)…..The…..Anti-…..
Bobman! Ta-da!” With that, the menacing character dressed in a leather
jacket with chains and a green fluorescent plaid B with a nice shiny red
slash through it on his shirt, twirled his Blazing Plungers of Death and
did a nice little piroutte.
“Okay, what the heck, you’re hired. Kill Bobman, and hey, thou
shalt be rewarded.”
Fred Jones, innocently skipping down a back alley, began to wonder
why he always seemed to be one of those innocent bystanders you see on TV.
It was almost like everything went wrong for him. “I wonder if maybe I’m
just unlucky or someth-”
Fred’s question went unfinished, as a door opened, slammed him
into a wall, and Anti-Bobman stepped out. “Hmmm, well, how to find Bobman?
How about if I just….well….gee, I’m stuck. Oh, wait! I’ve got it!
I’ll devise a nasty scheme and he’ll look for me!”
Two weeks later
Flipping on the television, Bob was just in time to catch the end
of the news. “And, to wrap up the news for today, I’ve got to tell you
folks, this new Bobman amusement park is just raking in the customers. It
seems everyone wants to go and meet The Mighty Bobman. If you haven’t been
there yet, I suggest you do so. I mean, heck, there’s only been one
reported case of someone falling from the Bob Wheel, and that was one Fred
Jones, who’s reported to be in stable condition however, so all is not
lost. Until next time, this is Pink Happy, and this is the Smiley Network.”
“Gadzooks! Someone licensing out my name. I must stop that
ruffian. But how?…I have it! I’ll go undercover.” With that, Bob and
Rex leaped out the door, right into a conveniently placed interdimensional
whorl. Falling into the front car of the official Mighty Bobman Roller
Coaster of Blazing Convenience, Bob’s appearance startled Fred Jones so
much that he fell onto the track and promptly proceeded to get himself run
over. As the roller coaster came to a halt, Bob threw off the safety bar
and started to run towards the main office. After circling the park
5.37294 times, he picked up enough momentum to burst through the already
open titanium alloy door and out the other side. Bob was as shocked as a
two-toed emu on acid. Walking inside, Bob saw Captain Smiley standing in
triumph over the prone body of the Anti-Bobman. “Hey! What are you doing?
That’s my super-villain you creep!”
“Sorry about that, but there’s two reasons why I did this. One:
You would have needed at least a two page fight scene, and the author
really doesn’t have enough skill to write one of those. Two: The author
just remembered the fact that he totally forgot about the mysterious crime
boss he introduced earlier, and he really should work him in soon, seeing
as how this story’s going to end pretty soon. I’ll tell you what though,
if my author, who’s even lazier than your’s, ever introduces an Anti-Smiley,
I’ll let you beat him up.”
“Ok, well, I’ll see later pal. I’ve got a plot to find and miles
to go before I sleep.”
With this, Bob and Captain Smiley sped off in opposite directions,
each heading off into the sunset.
Seven hours, five minutes, and 18 seconds later. After the holocaust
“Wow! That was some blast Rex! It’s a good thing we were wearing
our SPF 9000. Well, since everyone else has mutated into something hideous,
let’s go look for whatever mutant reminds us of a crime boss.” Jumping out
of the Bob-Mobile, Bob accidentally stepped on a six-headed ant formerly
known as Fred Jones. “Ah-ha! That giant oozing slimoid over there must
be him! Oh, wait, that’s just my mailman. There he is! Oh my God!
He’s….a….Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal! We’re in trouble now!!!”
The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal reached over and swallowed
Bob, Rex, and seven pina-colada Slurpees. Conveniently enough however,
the Slurpees set off a metabolic reaction with the monster that culminated
in his death six hours later, leaving Bob free to slice his way out with a
“Well Rex, I may not have been able to stop the apocalypse, but at
least I took down that crime boss!”
With that, Bob went to sleep, ready to face the challenges of a
new, mutated world.
Copyright Â© David Nowell