Septic Sludge

Septic Sludge

Confession time: I’m a bit of a toy junkie.

I have countless action figures, playsets, and all kinds of other crap that I have no real use for, other than the fact that I think it looks cool and is…how do I say this…fun to play with.

I’m not alone. My old roommate, Casey, had just as much stuff like this as me. And since we shared a passion for pro wrestling, it should come as no surprise that we both had tons – TONS! – of wrestling figures. In fact, the last Christmas we lived together, we decided to decorate our the tree with nothing but WWF and WCW Superstars.

If you haven’t come to the conclusion that I am nothing more than a complete and total nerd by now, then let me explain what I like to do in my spare time. I head to the local Toys R Us and wander the aisles, attempting to find some elusive action figure or Simpsons playset. Think about that: I drag my poor wife from toy store to toy store, and buy all this stuff that I have no earthly use for.

But even >I< have my limits. For example, imagine my reaction as I am looking for a new Chris Benoit figure I happen upon this:

Ok, ok, so it’s some stupid stinky toy marketed to idiotic ten year old boys. Who the hell would come up with such a thing? I look up, and lo and behold, it is officially licensed by none other than WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT!

Now why, exactly, Vince McMahon felt the need to market toys with glop that’s selling point is that it “Smells Like Stale Water!” is beyond the realm of my meager little brain. But I figure, eh, what the hell. Besides, I bet I could have some fun if I put my imagination to work.

Let’s start playtime with the Lazy Janitor kit, which claims to “smell like body odor!” That’s a damn lazy janitor, not even bothering to bathe. Hmmm…who should be my personal lazy janitor? I look through the collection…Undertaker? Kane? Gangrel? Ah ha! There he is!

It’s janitor Vince, which seems to be the best job for him these days. However, that’s just not enough humiliation for ol’ Vinny Mac. No, I really want him to suffer. And who should make him look like an idiot?

I take some of the yellow glop that smells like BO and smear it all over the WWE president, then place Chris Jericho on top of him, pretending that he just took a big, gooey pee on him. I ponder what he would have eaten to make his urine that consistency.

Suddenly, I am struck with another question:

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!

Let’s move on. Next up is the Mud Match playset, which will no doubt bring great joy to those who wish to re-enactment famous diva battles with 5 inch pieces of plastic. However, I am struck by the odor it supposedly emanates:

Since it is usually the women of the WWE in these bouts, you’d have thought they’d have gone with the obvious tie-in of having it smell like dead fish. They could then market WWE Douche! Hey, don’t put it past them – after all, they’re marketing toys that are supposed to smell like SHIT to kids.

As I opened package after package, I began to notice this so-called “Septic Sludge” all smelled pretty much the same. It didn’t really smell like pond water, or dead fish, body odor. Well, at least not anyone I have ever had the displeasure of sniffing. It stinks, to be sure, but it all reeks in a vaguely plasticy way instead of any specific natural odor. I suppose “smells like stinky plastic” wouldn’t sell as well as “smells like moldy cheese.”

Collect them all! So far there’s Oil Spill, Lazy Janitor, Gooey Garbage, Messy Bathroom, Mud Match, Concrete Jungle, Clean Up Crew, and Medical Mess. I’ve never seen the last one, but I’ve gotta guess it comes with a sticker that reads: “Smells Like a Colostomy Bag!”

But hey, any series that features an overflowing toilet is all right with me.

The question, though, is just who the hell could make such a mess? Let’s look at the probable suspects:

Alice Cooper?

Cletus, the Slack Jawed Yokel?

Ahmed Johnson?

At last, it hits me. There is only one man so intense that he could turn a bathroom upside down with his body secretions.

One man that is so furiously fierce that his inner rage could turn a bowel movement into a natural disaster.

Can’t figure out who it is?

Here’s a hint:

He’s in the zone! AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!

Yes, it’s the World’s Most Flatulent Man, Ken Shamrock!

Damn, Kenny, lay off the White Castles, would you? Seriously, man, look at yourself:

Dude, you’re gonna blow out your sphincter if you keep this up!

Thus ends another day in Uncle RD’s Funhouse.

Another long, stinky day.

‘Ken Shamrock’: “AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHH!! All this talk about sphincters is putting me in the zone! It’s five knuckle shuffle time!”

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