The Reverend Mario Tells It Like It Really Is

Given that Rev. Mario has been around for just about forever... And I mean literally that he's been around forever, it seemed only fitting that he set as straight, historywise. It's quite amazing the fog that historians have been operating under, isn't it?

Rev. Mario Discovers the South Pole

This reminds me of when me and Roald Amundsen went off to discover the South Pole. Roald was a weird motherfucker. He loved to strip himself nekkid and then run around in circles in the snow while emitting a high-pitched girly squeal. He tried to hold a steady note but he rarely succeeded because he was giggling so much. Then, he'd try to get all seductive and he'd walk toward us while pinching his nipples, saying in a forced baritone "You wanna fuck me, don't you?"

And we'd say "Get away from us, Roald, you fucking freak!!" And he'd get all upset and punch himself in the face.

Another time, we came up on Captain Scott's party and while they were sleeping we stole their compass and tied their shoelaces together. I wonder whatever happened to that guy?

Wherein Rev. Mario Explains Why He Isn't More Universally Feared

You know, I've often wondered why I'm not more universally feared considering how absolutely gruesome I am. I was discussing this with Caligula the other day and he pointed out that the problem is that I often SEEM like a nice guy. He advised that maybe I should kill more frequently and arbitrarily. And I should make more angry noises, y'know, BELLOW more. And on the rare ocassions that I DO laugh, I should maybe open my eyes as wide as I can for that evil maniac look.

Oh, and he thinks I should quit doing my hair up in pigtails.

Rev. Mario and Pol Pot, Together Again for the Very First Time

One day, me 'n Pol Pot 'n some pals went to do some fishing on the Sreng river. Funny thing about Pol was: he was a right squeamish feller. Hated to touch his own bait. Once we found this out we cancelled our fishin' trip. Spent the day hurling pieces of squid at Pol. Man, was he ANGRY. He was screamin' and hollerin' like a bitch. "What foah you trow fish pahts at me? WHAT FOAH??" We kept it up all mornin' 'til we ran outta bait. Then we sent Pol home tellin' him he stank like fish and that we were going to the titty bar.

He started killin' folk the very next day.

On His Relationship With Stalin...

You just never new Uncle Joe like we did. He loved kittens. And "Little House on the Prairie." And he was a BIG Joan Baez fan. Sometimes we'd be sitting around doing nothing and Joe would just burst into tears. Outta nowhere he'd start weeping. We'd say "Joe, Joe. What the hell is the matter NOW?" And he'd reply "There's just (sniff) so much SADNESS in the world!! I just can't take it." And we'd say "Whyn't ya kill some more JEWS Joe, that should fix it." And then he'd tell us that maybe all the sadness was our fault and how could we betray him like that and one of us would slap him on the back of the head, pissing him off royally. Then he'd stop crying and chase us across the room trying to tear us limb from limb and we'd just laugh at him 'cause Joe wasn't the quickest fellow. After a few minutes he'd collapse on the floor and the rest of us would go back to determining policy.

He was a beautiful man.

Modern Technology Owes Itself Entirely to This...

I remember once Nicky Tesla and I crashed a party at the Astor place. Let me tell you, people knew from parties in those days. So, the first guy we run into is George Westinghouse and Nicky's all obsequious 'cause the big fat rich walrus has got him on some kind've allowance and the rest of the night, I keep asking Nicky how it feels to have his head so far up Westinghouse's ass he looks like he's wearing him for a hat. This really gets his goat. Poor Nicola! It's so easy to push his buttons.

JP Morgan wanders by bitching about something or other so I hit him up for 20 bucks. I love to hear what kind of excuse he's going to come up with NOT to give it to me because even though he's the RICHEST MAN IN THE UNIVERSE he's still a tightwad but he always tries not to piss me off 'cause I have like 70 lbs. on him and he's horrified that one day I'm gonna kick his ass. This time he says his chauffer has his wallet and he can't find him just yet. Asshole.

Nicky spots Tom Edison sitting at a table talking to some high-class prostitute or something. We amble on over there and right away, Tom and Nick get into an argument as to which lightbulb is better, incandescent or flourescent. So, while they go on about all this useless science shit, I duck under the table and tie Tom's shoelaces together. As I pop back out, I sorta bump into Isadora Duncan who reaches right down and gives my dick a little squeeze. Oh, baby! What a piece of ass! We make a date for later and I turn my attention back to the inventors.

Sure enough, they're yelling now and Tom gets so pissed he makes to stand up and naturally, falls on his face, his arms splayed in front of him. Nicky immediately steps on Edison's hands and while Tom is trapped in that manner, I yank his pants down around his ankles, leaving his ass exposed to all these wealthy shits. Tom's screaming and cursing brings our host, John Jacob Astor over, who see what's going on and starts laughing that stupid donkey laugh of his. Then, JJ gets the brilliant idea of shoving food into Tom's ass and pretty soon the whole party's taking turns trying cram different foodstuffs up Tom Edison's ass. Not much would fit, really, but it was fun trying. Tom was beside himself. That guy's got no sense of humor.

JJ was so happy that we helped make his party such a success that he offered us tickets for this cruise on one of White Star's new ships. But, Nicky wouldn't go because he was still trying to sell his stupid idea for a power transmitter or something and I had made plans to go with Roald Amundsen to go look for the fucking South Pole around that time and I know I couldn't get about of it. I already told you guys THAT story.

Anyway, JJ promised to call on us when he got back but, of course, he never did. Those rich fucks are all the same. Fair weather cocksuckers.

Back When Midgets Were Actually Good for Something...

My great granpappy says that inna old days, there wasn't no gummint interference 'n a feller could do whatever he wanted to with his midget 'cause it was considered proppity, by cracky! He says 'twarn't nuthin' to keepin'em in line. First thing's you do is hobble the humunculus. Right away. Then you punch 'im inna mouth so's to remove all dey teefuses. They're usually pretty meek after that but if you find they're still too spirited, then bite 'em in the neck, not so hard that you break the skin but hard enough that you can pick 'em up & then give 'em a good shake. Show's em who's boss.

My great granpappy should know. He made hisself a livin' breakin' midgets before he went to fight in the Spanish-American War.

Remember the Maine!

The Holocaust

For the longest time, Hitler was in love with my sister. He would make these god-awful little drawings, lame landscapes, some Teutonic goddess or another with my sister's face. Then he would give 'em to her. They sucked and she always threw them away, sometimes right in front of him saying "You're a dork. These suck." But, he kept trying.

One day, Hitler says to my sister "What'll it take for you to love me?" She thinks for a minute and then says "Grow a little moustache just under your nose. Cover only that space, whaddayacallit? The philtrum? That should do it. I'll probably fall madly in love with you then."

So we don't see him for a couple of months and then, one day, he shows up with the new moustache. He marches right up to my sister and says "Will you marry me?" And my sister says "Gott in Himmel, Adolph!! HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH A DORK?" And we all burst into laughter. Hitler looked like he was going to cry or something and he says "Is it because I only have one testicle?" And me and my sister looked at each other for a second and started laughing even harder. I passed out from the hysterics.

My sister says she later told him that she wouldn't shit on him if he ruled the world.

I hope that explains some things.

1917

I never liked Lenin much. But, Joe and Leon thought he was pretty cool, so I tolerated him. I remember when Lenin got on his Marxist kick and how communism would be a great thing for the common folk and I said, "Vlad, Marx never worked a day in his life. What the fuck would he know about the proletariat? All he did was read Hegel and leech off poor Engels. He was a lazy, pompous shit and his ideas, albeit intruiging, are half-baked. Just like you." Well, Lenin got all red and said he'd live to prove me wrong.

And that's how it all started.

Maybe So, But I'll Bet It Was All Jackie's Idea...

I remember the day Lee Harvey Oswald and I bought a couple of spud guns. You know, those toy guns that shoot little pieces of potato? Anyway, we're drinking a bit and doing a little target practice and talking about how much we hate Kennedys when Lee Harvey says "Hey, Jack's in town. Let's go hassle him."

So, we amble on over to Dealy Plaza, where we know the whore-fucker's caravan will be passing through. I'm hauling a half a case of Guinness and Lee's carrying a sack of potatoes and we're both packing our new spud guns, gleefully plotting to shower the "president" (kills me to write that) with pellets. By the time we got there, we'd sucked down about four more bottles each because I was bitching about carrying all that beer and of course, we're pelting each other with potatoes so we're covered with little red welts. Man! Those things sting!

We set ourselves down on the curb across the street from the book depository, popped open a couple more Stouts and fiddled with our pistols. Mine was blue; his was red. Pretty soon, the presidential caravan comes a'rolling down the corner and we see Jack. As soon as he's within earshot, Lee yells "Hey, Jack! How's Audrey doing??" Now, it's no secret that Lee always had a big crush on Audrey Hepburn. Hey, who didn't? But, it always rankled him that Jack got a piece of her and Lee never forgave him for that.

Anyways, Jack hears him, sticks out his middle finger and says "Just fine! Wanna smell?" Fucking Jackie didn't even look over at us she was so busy exercising her uncanny ability for denial. Boy, was Lee pissed, though. He aims his gun at Jack and fires off a round of potato. Suddenly, Jack's head exploded.

"Fucking-A, Lee! What'd you do?" I yelled.

"Nothing," he replies. "I shot a potato at him! What the fuck?'

Then, we hear two or three more loud pops coming from some bushes in front of the car and even though we're shit-faced and disoriented from the heat and the beer, we manage to put two and two together. Someone's putting a hit on Jack for real. Were we RELIEVED!! We just started laughing. "You shoulda seen the look on your face..." That kind of thing.

Lee says he wants to get a better look, but I'm all sleepy from the booze and the excitement. So, he takes off in the direction in which the cars raced off while I start to doze right there on the sidewalk using the potato sack for a pillow but keeping my hand on our beer (which is nasty warm by now) lest someone swipe it.

The rest is pretty much common knowledge 'cept Lee didn't really do anything but launch a spud bit at that asshole but he was easier to railroad and much less "useful to society" than the guy who was REALLY behind the whole thing. That, of course, being Aristotle Onassis.

It should all make sense, now.