Kablooey!!! Terrorism Gone Awry

[Spectre-7]

Howdy!

First posting here in the Writers' Desk, thought I'd dust off some old stuff sittin on the ol' hard-drive. This is a character and storyline I've had for bloody ever (10 years, maybe), with character designs etc.

In light of certain world events of the past few years, it kind of got put on hiatus, but I'm posting it up anyway. It's intended to be a lighthearted, cartoony, though occasionally foul-mouthed adventure series punctuated with more explosions in a given issue than a Van Damme flick.

As far as style, I tend to keep scripts fast and loose. I focus on general descriptions of places, people and actions, with a focus on dialogue, and let the artist determine panel and page structure. I might occasionally call out a shot, but it's rare. Without further ado...

--------------------------------------------------------

Kablooey!!!
Terrorism Gone Awry
By Chris J. Randolph
©2004, TM, patent pending, trade secrets enclosed, etc.



Disclaimer: There is a reasonable chance that you, the reader will find Kablooey!!! offensive for some reason or another. In fact, you may regard Kablooey!!! just as highly as I do baby eating corporations and their bloodsucking legion of lawyers. Rare others of you will find within these lovingly illustrated pages a spirit of wonder and whimsy, punctuated by mind rocking explosions and a surplus of exclamation points (!!!). Whatever your opinion, I hope you got your money’s worth…

Issue 1: Ignition

Open with a shot of the planet earth hanging in space, swarmed by sattelites, and accompanied by a moon bearing a large scar.

CAPTION: WELCOME TO THE PLANET EARTH, A BLUE GREEN BALL OF MUD LOCATED AROUND AN INSIGNIFICANT STAR, SOMEWHERE IN A GALAXY CALLED THE MILKY WAY.

Begin series of seemingly unrelated pictures of wild animals… a jungle with monkeys shrugging their shoulders in dismay, an underwater shot with a dolphin and giant squid looking confused. all camera aside style.

CAPTION: THIS PLANET IS HOME TO A DIZZYING ARRAY OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS. SADLY, ONLY ONE SPECIES CAN TELL YOU ABOUT IT… AND GIVEN A CHANCE, THEY WILL WITHOUT END. I HUMBLY INTRODUCE MR. AND MRS. HUMAN BEING.

A man and woman stand on a street, waving at the camera.

CAPTION: DON’T LET THEIR SWEET LOOKS DECEIVE YOU. EITHER ONE WILL JUST AS SOON SLIT YOUR THROAT AS BAKE YOU A PIE… WELL, SHE MIGHT BAKE YOU A PIE.

Man and woman nod, smiling. Man reveals a big butcher knife that was hidden behind his back.

CAPTION: ALL THIS IS PROVEN BY HUMAN HISTORY, WHICH HAS BEEN A BLOODY, BARBARIC AND BELLIGERENT AFFAIR. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY THAT HUMANS ARE COMPLETELY EVIL… IN FACT, EVERY NOW AND AGAIN A STORY COMES ALONG THAT’S TRULY WORTH TELLING. BUSTING AT THE SEEMS WITH HEROISM AND GLORY, THESE TALES CAPTURE THE HEART AND INSPIRE THE MIND.

Heroes slaying dragons… WWII Soldiers stomping on Hitler’s limp, lifeless corpse while drinking champaigne.

CAPTION: SADLY, THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE STORIES. THIS IS ONE OF THOSE OTHER TALES, SIMPLY TOO LOUD TO IGNORE, AND TOO STUPIDIOTIC TO BELIEVE.

Low angle of a skyscraper exploding in the middle of a dense city, complete with high velocity llama flying away from it.

CAPTION: COME. LET’S JOIN THE STORY ALREADY IN PROGRESS.

NOTE: THIS COMIC WAS DRAWN IN FRONT OF A LIVE STUDIO AUDIENCE.

An older, beaten up convertible comes to a stop. The driver is revealed to be a beautiful redhead wearing a formal skirt-suit and a pair of glasses, holding a voice recorder in one hand.

LISA: SUNDAY, APRIL 20TH, 12:36PM, AND I AM STAR REPORTER, LISA LASHKAVIAN. UP UNTIL THIS PAST WEEK, HOOBA CITY WAS A THRIVING METROPOLIS, ICON OF AMERICAN CAPITALISM AND POP-CULTURE. THEN OUT OF NOWHERE, DOWNTOWN HOOBA CITY WAS STRUCK BY FIVE BRUTAL ATTACKS.

She tosses a can of pepper spray into her purse and gets out of the car.

LISA: THE FBI IS STILL SEARCHING BLINDLY FOR THE CULPRIT, WHILE MY OWN INVESTIGATION HAS LEAD ME TO THE RESIDENCE OF A MYSTERIOUS MAN THEY CALL “KABLOOEY�. COUNTLESS INTERVIEWS WITH FIREMEN, POLICEMEN, THEORETICAL PHYSICISTS AND EVEN FIREWORKS DEALERS HAVE PRODUCED THE SAME ANSWER… THE SAME NAME, WHISPERED IN QUAKING VOICES. KABLOOEY. THEY SAY HE WAS A BRILLIANT CHEMIST ONCE, BUT NOW IT’S ANYBODY’S GUESS.

She messes with her hair for a moment, then looks in dismay at something off camera. Glancing down at her palm computer, she confirms the address yet remains skeptical. Reveal a half-burnt or otherwise destroyed town house, with a broken down car and two bath tubs resting on the lawn. A small bang illicits a cough of smoke from the chimney, and Lisa walks up the path. When she gets to the door, she coyly knocks on the door, which swings open then falls right off its hinges.

LISA: OH GOODNESS… UMMM. HELLO?

Another explosion rattles the house, loosing plaster from the ceiling. Lisa’s eyes go wide, and she looks back at her car in fear. Then she cautiously walks into the house.

LISA: <WHY AM I DOING THIS> HELLO?!

She walks through the house, which is just as destroyed as the outside would imply. Couches lean against walls upside down, a chandelier is laying on the floor. She steps over every thing carefully, and finally catches sight of a man sitting with his back to her, in a room open to the sky. He’s wearing a straight jacket with the sleeves rolled up and pajama bottoms, with hair resembling an open flame. Back and forth he mixes vials of unknown liquid. This is Yahoo Kablooey.

LISA: SIR? UMMMM, MR. KABLOOEY?

KABLOOEY: SHHHH, ALMOST DONE.

LISA: DONE WITH WHAT?

KABLOOEY: WHICH PART OF “SHHHH� DIDN’T YOU UNDERSTAND… THE “SH� OR THE “HHH�? ALMOST DONE, SAYS I.

Lisa crosses her heart and walks closer. Kablooey obsessively mixes vials, until finally a puff of black smoke envelopes his head. Lisa jumps.

KABLOOEY: DONE!

Kablooey wheels around holding the bubbling vial up to Lisa, now with a wide smile on his face.

KABLOOEY: FIZZY POP?

Lisa screams.

KABLOOEY: A SIMPLE NO WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.

Suddenly, he eyes her suspiciously, then clutches the vial close to his chest and sips from it.

KABLOOEY: WAIT… I DON’T KNOW YOU. YOU’RE NOT HERE TO STEAL MY FIZZY POP ARE YOU? DAMNED CORPORATE BANDIT…

Lisa tilts her head to the side, and scratches the top in confusion.

LISA: NO. UMMM. YOU’RE KABLOOEY?

KABLOOEY: I ALREADY KNOW WHO I AM… WHO ARE YOU?

She furroughs her brow.

LISA: I’M LISA LASHKAVIAN, WITH THE HOOBA CITY STAR TRIBUNE. I WAS HOPING TO INTERVIEW YOU FOR THE PAPER.

KABLOOEY: LASHKAVIAN? LASHKAVIAN… HEY, I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YOU WROTE THAT PIECE ON THE HIGH SCHOOL PARADE… “HIGH SCHOOL HAS PARADE.� GREAT ARTICLE.

Lisa grits her teeth.

KABLOOEY: OH! AND THE ONE ABOUT BULIMIC GIRLSCOUTS, “THIN MINTS AND THINNER SCOUTS.� I LOOOVE YOUR WORK.

Lisa looks displeased.

LISA: YEAHHHHH… SO, ANYWAY… WAIT, YOU’RE SERIOUS, AREN’T YOU? YOU LIKED THOSE?

KABLOOEY: JOURNALISTIC GOLD, BABY. ANYWHO, WHAT CAN I DO YA FOR?

LISA: <AHEM> AS I SAID, I WAS HOPING I COULD INTERVIEW YOU ABOUT…

KABLOOEY: NOPE. SORRY. I CAN’T TELL YOU WHAT GOES INTO THE FIZZY POP, TOOTS. THIS LITTLE VIAL IS MY TICKET TO A MILLION SIMOLIANS. ARUBA HERE I COME!

He kisses the glass vial and takes another sip, swishing it around in his cheeks thoughtfully.

LISA: LOOK MR. KABLOOEY, I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOUR “FIZZY POP�. I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THE RECENT BOMBINGS DOWNTOWN.

KABLOOEY: YAHOO.

LISA: I DON’T GET IT. THE SEARCH-ENGINE?

KABLOOEY: SEARCH WITH THE WHAT NOW?

She crosses her arms in frustration.

LISA: <WHY ME, GOD?> WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY “YAHOO�?

KABLOOEY: YAHOO KABLOOEY. MY NAME. FRIENDS CALL ME YAHOO, AND YOU DEFINITELY LOOK LIKE A FRIEND. RRRRROW!

lisa smirks.

LISA: YAHOO, THEN… WHAT CAN YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS WEEK’S BOMBINGS?

KABLOOEY: AWFULLY FOCUSED, AREN’T YOU?

LISA: LIKE A LASERBEAM.

KABLOOEY: RRRRROW!

LISA: PLEASE STOP THAT.

KABLOOEY: ANYTHING YOU SAY, SUGAR TITS.

He winks lasciviously.

LISA: ABOUT THE BOMBINGS…

(Kablooey leans in to talk into her tape recorder.)

KABLOOEY: THE SUBJECT IS PROVING EVASIVE.

LISA: MR. KABLOOEY. ERR, YAHOO… I’M WILLING TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO GET THIS INTERVIEW.

After speaking, she reconsiders her statement in dismay.

Kablooey turns back to his work.

KABLOOEY: GOOD. MEET ME AT THE TOP OF THE HOOBA NEEDLE AT 9:30 TONIGHT. NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME I HAVE WORK TO DO. THIS FIZZY POP TASTES LIKE BAT GUANO.

The Hooba Needle

CAPTION: LATER THAT EVENING AT THE HOOBA NEEDLE…

Lisa rides an elevator up what looks like the Space Needle, but sillier. When she arrives at the top, the doors open revealing a coffee shop. The view of the city is impressive. Hooba City itself is a bussling metropolis, marked by an odd assortment of landmark's resembling those from major cities the world over.

Lisa (to voice recorder): SUNDAY, APRIL 20TH, 9:28PM. I’M CURRENTLY STANDING IN THE HOOBA NEEDLE CAFE AT YAHOO KABLOOEY’S REQUEST. I’VE SPENT ALL DAY TRYING TO UNCOVER ANY SCRAP OF INFORMATION ABOUT THIS ENIGMATIC MAN, BUT I CAN’T FIND A DAMNED THING. IT’S ALMOST LIKE SOMEONE’S DESTROYED ANY EVIDENCE OF HIS EXISTENCE.


Lisa looks across the café and sees Kablooey sitting by the window, looking out over the city.

Lisa (still to recorder): MY EARLIER INTERVIEW WAS LESS THAN A ROUSING SUCCESS… WORSE, I THINK HE WANTS TO DATE ME. WHATEVER HAPPENS TONIGHT, THE TWO NEW COPPERTOPS IN MY SONY STUNMAN MAKE ME FEEL BETTER.

She walks up to the table with her hands behind her back, while Kablooey continues to stare blankly out the window.

KABLOOEY: THIS CITY’S BEAUTIFUL, YOU KNOW. SOMETIMES, I THINK NOBODY KNOWS HER LIKE I DO.

LISA: AND HOW WOULD THAT BE, YAHOO?

KABLOOEY: WE HAVE A RELATIONSHIP. I MEAN… SHE’S ALIVE, AND I MAKE HER SHINE.. HAVE A SEAT, MS. LASHKAVIAN.

Lisa sits and Kablooey flags down a waiter.

LISA: WHAT IS IT YOU DO, ANYWAY?

KABLOOEY: I’LL SHOW YOU IN A BIT. IN THE MEAN TIME, WOULD YOU LIKE SOMETHING TO DRINK?

LISA: MEXICAN MOCHA, VENTI.

KABLOOEY: AND I’LL HAVE ANOTHER QUAD ESPRESSO… DOUBLE BLACK.

WAITER: COMING UP.

LISA: ANOTHER?

KABLOOEY: THIRD ONE TONIGHT. A LOT LIKE DRINKING A GRADE JET FUEL. KEEPS THE HEART PUMPING, FOR SURE…

Lisa laughs, then looks awkward

LISA: OH, YOU’RE NOT JOKING. ALRIGHT. YAHOO, I HAVE TO ASK… WHO ARE YOU?

KABLOOEY: HA HA, THERE’S A STORY. A LONG, LONG STORY, BUT I’M GAME IF YOU ARE.

Kablooey looks back questioningly, and she nods approvingly. (note: Both characters text is put in caption boxes throughout the flashback. Kablooey is Cap1, Lisa is Cap2)

CAP1: MR. DIRECTOR, CUE FLASHBACK.

Cut to a shot of a young Yahoo walking down the street, dressed normally, with a little backpack on his back. He seems bored and angry, staring at the ground, kicking things.

CAP1: MY STORY BEGINS RIGHT HERE IN HOOBA CITY WHEN I WAS 12 YEARS OLD. I WAS A HAPLESS VICTIM OF THE PUBLIC EDUCATION SYSTEM, MUCH AS MOST KIDS. THAT WAS UNTIL I FOUND HER.

Young Kablooey stops dead in his tracks and looks down at the sidewalk with wonder and amazement in his eyes. Sitting on the ground is a worn and weathered zippo, with a hot-chick design on it.

CAP2: THE CITY?

CAP1: NO, HER NAME WAS BERNICE. WE EXPLORED TOGETHER.

CAP2: ENOUGH WITH THE SEX TALK, LECHER.

CAP1: BERNICE WAS A LIGHTER.

CAP2: OH.

Kablooey burns leaves. Paper. The drapes. His own hand with nothing but a curious look on his face.

CAP1: I WAS POSSESSED, AND I DID THE ONLY THING I COULD. I HIT THE BOOKS… AND THE INTERNET. I STUDIED, AND I EXPERIMENTED, AND I THOUGHT AND THOUGHT AND THOUGHT UNTIL I THOUGHT MY HEAD MIGHT EXPLODE.

CAP2: AND THEN?

CAP1: MAN AM I GLAD MY HEAD DIDN’T EXPLODE. BUT THE STUDY OF PYROTECHNICS… OF ENERGETICS, TOOK OVER MY LIFE. AT THE AGE OF 15, I RECEIVED AN HONORARY DOCTORATE IN ENERGETIC PHYSICS FROM MIT FOR BEING BURNED, DETONATED AND FISSIONED MORE THAN ANY LIVING OR NON-LIVING OBJECT. SOON I HAD A LABORATORY ON CAMPUS, AND WAS LITERALLY SWIMMING IN GOVERNMENT GRANTS. EVERYBODY WANTED A PIECE OF THE KABLOOEY. BUT…

Numerous shots of blowing up all kinds of crap in laboratory.

CAP2: BUT WHAT?

CAP1: IT WASN’T ENOUGH. EVERYDAY, I NEEDED MORE JUST TO BE SATISFIED. AFTERALL, BOREDOM’S NOT A BURDEN ANYONE SHOULD BEAR.

CAP2: SO WHAT’D YOU DO?

CAP1: I LOOKED OUTSIDE OF WORK… WOODSHEDS. OUTHOUSES. SCHOOLBUSES. BUT THE MORE I GOT, THE MORE I NEEDED. SOON I WAS BLOWING UP EVERYTHING AND THE KITCHEN SINK. THE GOVERNMENT COVERED IT ALL UP, BUT THEY COULDN’T STAY AHEAD OF ME FOREVER. THAT’S WHEN I DID IT.

End flashback sequence.

LISA: ENOUGH WITH THE CLIFFHANGERS, YAHOO.

KABLOOEY: YOU’RE SUCKING ALL THE FUN OUT OF THIS, PUDDIN’. ANYWHO, WHERE OTHER MEN CONCERNED THEMSELVES WITH SMALL MATTERS… WELL, I AIMED FOR THE STARS.

Kablooey points at the moon, which has a massive crater on its face.

LISA: NO. YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS. THAT WAS A METEOR. THEY SAID SO ON THE NEWS.

KABLOOEY: METEOR? SORRY TO BREAK IT TO YOU, SWEETHEART, BUT THAT WAS ONE BIG, HONKIN’ CHEMICAL EXPLOSIVE. TWO DIFFERENT ASTROLITE COMPOUNDS, WITH A POTASSIUM CHLORIDE BOOSTER CHARGE, AND A COUPLE DROPS OF GOOD OLD DIESEL.

LISA: MY GOD.

KABLOOEY: WHAT CAN I SAY, HYDROCARBONS NEVER REALLY GO OUT OF STYLE… ANYWHO, THAT’S WHEN I WENT TO STAY AT THE NEUMANN ASYLUM FOR THE CHAOTICALLY INSANE. NICE PLACE. PRETTY WALLS. GAVE ME THIS NEAT JACKET THAT MADE ME HUG MYSELF ALL DAY. NO LOVE LIKE SELF LOVE, RIGHT?

LISA: DID THEY MEDICATE YOU?

KABLOOEY: NAW, THEY DIDN’T HAVE THE GUTS TO PUT ANY STRANGE CHEMICALS IN MY CELL. INERT NEON LIGHTS… WATER AND SOME TASTELESS GRUEL FOR BREAKFAST LUNCH AND DINNER. WOULDN’T EVEN GIMME A BOTTLE OF TOBASCO, THE HEATHENS. WENT ON LIKE THAT FOR FIVE YEARS.

LISA: UNTIL?

KABLOOEY: LAST WEEK.

A look of realization dawns on Lisa's face.

LISA: THE EXPLOSION. HOW’D YOU DO IT?

KABLOOEY: FANCY WHATCHA CAN MAKE FROM HAIR AND NAIL CLIPPINGS.

She stares agape, looking only a little frightened.

LISA: SO HERE YOU ARE, SIPPING COFFEE WITH ME AT THE TOP OF THE HOOBA NEEDLE, AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T TOLD ME…

KABLOOEY: HOW STUNNING YOUR EYES ARE?

LISA: WHAT?

Kablooey is now aglow with love.

KABLOOEY: BEAUTIFUL AND BLUE LIKE BURNING BUTANE.

LISA: THANKS, I GUESS… BUT KABLOOEY… YAHOO, ABOUT THE B-O-M-B-I-N-G-S???

KABLOOEY: SO FIERCE, LIKE A TIGER. RRRRARGH!

Lisa slaps her forehead.

LISA: ALRIGHT, SO WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SHOW ME? <PLEASE GOD, NOT WHAT I THINK>

Kablooey looks at his watch.

KABLOOEY: RIGHT ON TIME.

He hands Lisa a rose. She smiles, against her better judgement

LISA: IT’S LOVELY.

Kablooey raps on the window. Lisa looks, and a building explodes violently. When the smoke clears, all that remains of it is a smouldering husk in the shape of a rose.

Kablooey giggles child like a small child and whimsically bounces away. Lisa is shocked for only a moment, then looks at the rose and sighs.

KABLOOEY: TEHEHE… GOTTA GO!!!

LISA: WHY ALWAYS ME?

Hooba International Airport

CAPTION: MEANWHILE, AT HOOBA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, A NEW PLAYER ENTERS THE GAME…

The scene is Hooba Airport, a bussling, modern terminal with a horde of sleeping security guards sitting around. A plane lands and a scruffy looking man, mid-twenties, with a pierced ear and eyebrow, wearing a pair of jeans and a torn t-shirt walks down the gangway and into the terminal. This is Boom-Boom McGee.

OVERHEAD: THE WHITE ZONE IS FOR THE LOADING AND UNLOADING OF PASSENGERS ONLY.

Boom-Boom saunters over to the window, looking out over Hooba City and all of its landmarks gleeming in the moonlight. In the distance, the husk of a building in the shape of a rose is still burning. Boom-Boom cocks an eyebrow quizzically, shrugs his shoulders, pops a Lucky Strike into his mouth and lights it.

BOOM-BOOM: FEK. DAY LATE AND A EURO SHORT…

OVERHEAD: THE BLUE ZONE IS FOR THE LOADING AND UNLOADING OF ASPHYXIATED PASSENGERS ONLY.

A young man who works for the airport, scrawny and pimply, walks up to Boom-Boom shyly. He raises a hand, goes to speak, pauses, then tries again.

YOUNG MAN: UMMM… EXCUSE ME… SIR? UMMMM, THERE’S NO SMOKING IN THE TERMINAL.

BOOM-BOOM: <GRUNT>

Boom-Boom doesn't ever turn away from window.

YOUNG MAN: SIR… I’M VERY SORRY, BUT YOU CAN’T SMOKE HERE.

Boom-Boom turns to the young man finally, with a psychotic glint in his eye.

BOOM-BOOM: IS THAT SO? WELL, IS THERE ANY SMOKIN’ ON THE RUNWAY?

(The young man looks confused.)

YOUNG MAN: UHHHH… I DON’T BELIEVE SO.

BOOM-BOOM: YOU MIGHT WANNA LOOK AGAIN.

The airplane explodes. The young man stares out the window, as does everyone else, mouth agape. Boom-Boom hands the young man the remaining half cigarette, which the young man takes and starts sucking on absent mindedly. Boom-Boom meanwhile casually saunters away.

Diggity/Strathmore Towers

CAPTION: WHAT TROUBLING TIMES THESE ARE… ESPECIALLY TO HOOBA CITY’S TWO MOST NOTABLE INDUSTRIALISTS. TWO DISTINGUISHED MEN, WHO CAME INTO FORTUNES THROUGH HARD WORK AND GRITTY DETERMINATION… AND ONCE THEY MERGED, THEY BECAME NEARLY UNSTOPPABLE.

Begin with an establishing shot of the Diggity/Strathmore Towers, a giant, phallic building that looms over all the rest of Hooba City. Next, we see an ashtray where a cigar and a white cigarette (complete with plastic filter) are being ashed from hands mostly out of frame. As the conversation begins, we only catch glimpses of each man, comparing shoes, pants, one with a glass of wine and the other with a forty of St. Ides.

NIGEL: WE SEEM TO HAVE QUITE A DILEMMA ON OUR HANDS, JOE.

JOE: NO SHIT, NIGEL.

NIGEL: FIVE BUILDINGS. IN JUST ONE WEEK.

JOE: WHAT, THINK I CAN’T COUNT, YOU CRACKAH MUTHU****A?!

NIGEL: OF COURSE YOU CAN COUNT. PERHAPS MAYBE NOT IF YOU WERE WEARING MITTENS.

JOE: YAW, I DON’T WEAR MITTENS, BIATCH.

NIGEL: INDEED.

Finally reveal both seated across from one another in the penthouse of the Diggity/Strathmore Towers. One a staunch English gentleman, the other a street toughened, black hip-hop artist. They are Nigel Strathmore and Joe Diggity. Joe’s entourage are all sitting on the floor playing monopoly in the background.

FU: WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THE STINKIN’ SHOE? I WANNA BE THE STEAMBOAT.

B-BOY: BUT YOU DON’T SMELL LIKE A STEAMBOAT, NIGGAH.

FU: SHUDDUP!

JOE: THIS SHIT’S ALREADY COST US MILLIONS… SO WHUT UP?

Nigel’s butler comes in casually and hands a note to Nigel, then leaves. Nigel reads it, then his face contorts in stress.

NIGEL: SIX BUILDINGS!!!

JOE: MUTH-A-****-A…

FU: YEE-AH, SUCK MA PARK AVENUE BIAAAATCH!

[Finnegan]

i can't believe i'm posting in the writer's forum

KABLOOEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
needs more exploding llamas


=BoB=

[Spectre-7]

I probably should have noted... All explosions larger than a bread box have at least one llama flying from the epicenter. Thanks, as always, Mr. Finnegan. :P

Now go back to work, ya jamoke.