As you all know, Ian Fortey is dead. I came out victorious in our eternal struggle that started a few weeks ago. The best part of all is that I got Peter Weller to admit to killing him, so I'm off the hook.
Anyway, that's not the point of this entry. The point of this entry is my need for a new nemesis. Finding a nemesis isn't as easy as you probably think it is. (Moron.) In the case of Fortey, he personally insulted me and people like me. Underjets, which he mistakenly referred to as underbites, are beautiful, bold, facial features. Powerful, too. I can chew through a steel bar as thick as my arm, which is why no prison has ever successfully confined me.
I can't think of anyone who has personally insulted me lately, so I need a different method of selection a nemesis. I considered that dog down the street that barks at me whenever I walk past him, but he's too dim-witted. So I figured that I'd figure out something a little more dramatic:
Now, besides the obvious reason of dramatic appeal, I need to concoct a real reason why he's my nemesis. How about because he's a traitor? Yeah, that'll work.
But you haven't even heard the worst of it. BEHOLD: