Some Distractions

Well, I'm having a hard time relaxing lately. I can't stop thinking about killing Sylar. But I'm the calm guy. I have to stay focused.

And so I came up with this. Claire Bear and I play this game all the time, especially after a brain-thief breaks out of his containment cell.

Check out the pictures below and post a caption. The best will be announced later on. So, have fun and try not to think about Claire Bear's imminent death.

Photo #1

Photo #2

Photo #3

Photo #4

Photo #5

So there you have it. The one's who come up with the best captions, and by best I mean humorous, will win a Primatech Paper Special Agent Promotion! So if you're not already a "Ketchup Bottle" you could be! And if you already are, you can move up. So comment or email captions@primatechpaper.org. Submit a caption for all of them, just one or maybe three. The choice is yours. Just label it with the right number!

Gah!

My solace.....ruined!

But I don't want to talk about that. In fact, for now, I just want to forget all about Gabriel Gray.

Instead, I'm going to talk about how I'm looking forward to the Star Wars TV Show.

It was announced that there would be a live action TV Show in 2008. And so...

Gah! I have to get Sylar. He's out there, and is going to come after Claire again. But The Haitian's here, we have things well guarded. There's nothing to worry about.

Come on, Bennet! Focus! Just write about something else...

Ah, CS! Counter-Strike: Source. I play all the time. It's a great way to forget about the outside world and the troubles associated with it. I should finish writing in my journal AKA diary and play a few rounds. That'll keep my mind off of things.



Yes, a great game. You should join me sometime. Aside from being fun and distracting it helps hand eye coordination so you can shoot Sylars better.

Gah! Can bullets hurt him? I shot him already and nothing! Stupid Hank. "Yo dawg, there be just one power doin' what it do up in there, man." Gah! Gah! Gah!

The Pinnacle of Solace

Well, I've arrived. Without trying to sound too much like Mohinder Suresh, I would like to point out the great destiny inherent in this day. I woke up knowing it would be a great day. And then I get the mythological call of the siren, Hank.

Sylar is dead! Oh, yeah!

So I set off on my mystical journey. After facing the trials along the way, I arrived at Primatech Paper Company where I found myself amused with the humor of Hank.

Then a trip down memory lane.

With all that epicness going on around me, I had started pondering my own death. Deciding that I didn't want to burden my family 30 years or so down the road, I made my pre-arrangements.

And now here I am. At the peak of Everest. No, metaphorically I mean. I'm actually inside Sylar's cell.

I didn't look around the cell for Hank. I hope I don't regret it and he jumps out of a corner giving me the willies. They'd catch it on our security tape and it'd be so embarassing.

But I wanted to stay brave. Looking around for Hank would only come off as cowardice. It's what he would have wanted me to do. Looking only builds tension.

So, I stood strong and made my way to the table.

But before I could remove the sheet, I had to write an entry in my journal AKA diary.

What is there left to write? I'm here. This is the moment that the entire day has driven me to. Perhaps even my entire life.

It's as though I'm the Jesus of this epic tale. Or better yet, the Luke Skywalker.

I was born a humble little infant, like any other human. Except for maybe Sylar who was born a turd of pure evil. And I grew and learned and adapted and had asthma.

It was an enjoyable childhood. An enjoyable ignorance of what was to come. My later childhood, things went sour. I was picked on by the rest of the students.

My mama, who I think may have died recently because I haven't gotten a Christmas present from her in a few years, always cheered me up. "You are special," she'd tell me. "Don't let the others get to you. You will do great things."

And indeed she was correct. I've done so much incredible things already. And will continue to do incredible things for a good thirty more years or so.

Few people know what I know or have had the chance to do such a thing. It's as though I met the devil himself. But he couldn't harm me with his evil sorcery or pseudo-documentaries.



Some often wonder if I made a deal with the Devil during that meeting. Well, I assure you I did not.

Despite what they say about me, I'm a good guy. At least half of me is. And I'm fighting the good fight. I travel down the halls of Primatech with my twelve disciples in tow.



I took a moment outside the cell, looking at the sheet-covered corpse on the table. Though I'm not a religious man, I could hear God speak to me.

"Go forth my son. You must complete your destiny and bring salvation to the world. Only through you can they hope to escape a life of brainless misery."

I agreed with God, as portrayed by Andy Griffith.

"As you go into the cell, I plan to take a restroom break," God/Andy said.

"Who will watch over me?" I asked.

"Have no fear, my son. My deputy will take over in my momentary absense. Now go, remove the sheet. Complete your destiny. Complete your metaphor."

The death of Sylar itself was a metaphor within my metaphor. I, with my h4x0r rims, represent intelligence, truth and knowledge. Yet, Sylar removes brains from people. He is anti-knowledge. And it is metaphorically through me that the world will become wise.

It's the destiny Andy Griffith bestowed upon me.

How will I bring wisdom? By examining what's under this sheet. By studying and deciphering the genetic code within this metaphorical Darth Maul. And by using my discoveries to combat the Emperor. Unless I work for the Emperor. Then I'm not sure whom I'll combat. But that can be figured out later.

Now, I must remove this sheet.

Solace After Death

So, I bought myself a coffin.



But I still have a lot of work to finish up my funeral pre-arrangements. I figure it's worth it though. Even though I'm certain I have a good 30 years left, I could go at any time. Like Sylar. I'm sure he expected to live indefinitely. But, nope! He's gone. And he didn't make pre-arrangements.

I don't want to burden my family with trying to arrange my funeral and pay for it all while still mourning my death. So, I'm taking it upon myself to handle it for them.

I'm not a religious man, so that takes a ton of costs out of it. No crucifixes, no priest, no holy water. If they could have my last rights read by Yoda, I'd go for it though. But the website I found didn't offer it.

The headstone was one of the best parts.

I was going to go with Han Solo, frozen in Carbonite. But John Kaczinsky beat me to it.



So, I decided to go with something else.



Oh, that cracks me up everytime! My sides are hurting as I type this.

For the ceremony, since I couldn't find a Yoda to perform, I went with this guy instead.



Of course, my wake is going to consist of a 12+ Hour Star Wars Saga viewing so I can see it all one more time. Hopefully, I can find some video editor to add a Force Ghost Me to the end of ROTJ.

Then, I want everyone to jam out to Ob La Di and Funky Town while I sail away into the ocean.



ARRRRCHHHHH! I forgot about my headstone. Um, well...I guess they'll have to fish me out after the ceremony and bury me. Yeah, that'll work.

Pensive Solace

I was thinking.

Since Sylar is dead, maybe it's time for me to retire. It's not like I have an adversary anymore. Continuing on in the BioPaper Industry seems a little pointless.

Dr. Hank may still find out how Sylar has been absorbing all those powers. It may take some time examining the corpse, but I'm sure the secrets will be unlocked. And then would I want to be in this business anymore?

I can only imagine what crazy things will happen with this new "technology" released to the public. Everyone will be flying around, shooting fire out their eyeballs.

Usually I'm a huge fan of progress and technology. But a world where everyone is special doesn't seem that special to me. Hopefully, it'll take years before that happens. Thirty-years or so from now, I'll be dead and they can do whatever the Hades they want.

So, I was thinking about my death too, even though it's thirty years away. Since I have plenty of time before Sylar's corpse rots, I decided to plan my funeral. Pre-arrangements are the hot thing now. And you can do it all online.

I picked out a coffin!

Solace, Hank-Style

The year was 1980. The place, Odessa High School.

Lisa was a young ragamuffin from the streets of Midland. She cleaned up nice. Got herself enrolled mid-semester of mine and Hank's senior year.

Hank was (and still is) quite the ladies' man. As soon as he laid eyes on her, he called dibs. It was fine with me. I was certainly not the type for which a beautiful, yet emotionally-repressed, goddess would go.

"Yo, dawg, you has gots ta hook me up with that!" Hank told me.

"I don't think she'd talk to me. Perhaps you could arrange for an accidental meeting?"

"Man, that's a fly idea."

We spent the nights at my parents' house planning for the ultimate ploy of romance and seduction.



"That ain't bad, yo," Hank said of the flowchart, "You think it will work?"

"Of course it will. It's symmetrical."

Now, it was time to set things in motion.

Step 1: Chance Meeting

"Aaaaaa-CHOOOO!" I yelled from down the hall, cuing Hank to make his move.

He stepped out from around the corner and came face to face with Lisa.

"Oh, 'scuse me, woman!" He exclaimed, then seemed to become dazed by her looks, "Uh, I mean, uh, my name is Hank-Dog."

She starred back at him, no facial expression whatsoever. "Ya, whatever," she finally said and walked off.

Step 1: Chance Meeting #2

"Aaaaaa-CHOOOOO!"

Hank opened the classroom door and walked right into Lisa. "Aw, girl, my bad."

"Ya, whatever."

"Hol' up, yo," Hank grabbed her by the shoulder. "You's gots ta be the most flyest girl here in this school. You gots the look of an artist in yo eyes."

It wasn't quite what we practiced, but it seemed to work.

"I eat bugs," she said and seemed to give a slight smile.

Good enough. On to step twos.

Step 2-2: Support Her Lame Ideas

"Can anyone tell me the form of government of America?" the teacher asked.

Nobody raised their hands. He called on Lisa.

"Um, an evil tyranny of pseudo-democracy built on corruption and deceit."

"I'm sorry, that's wrong young lady."

Hank spoke up, "Nah, dog, she hit that nail on the foot, yo!"

Step 2-3: Homework Together

"Man, I'm like trippin' that I got you as a lab partner. That is da bomb, yo!"

Step 2-3-2: Feign Intelligence

"You positively charge my ion," Hank said, delivering the line perfectly.

"Did you know if we removed one proton from Mercury, it'd be Gold." I whispered through Hank's window.

"Yo, girl, you know if we moved your photons to Pluto, they'd 'splode!"

Good enough.

Step 2-1: Hang Out in Private

"Nah, for reals, girl. I thought they'd be mo peeps up in this here party."

"Uh, excuse me," I said, "I need to go find my inhaler." I left, leaving the two together for some fly moves to be dropped.

Step 2-1-2: Drop Some Fly Moves (Hank's only contribution to the plan)

"You like music?" Hank said.

"Ya, whatever." Lisa replied. Hank turned on the radio.

"Yeah, girl! Afrika Bambaataa!" Hank got his groove on.

Step Three: Defend From Bully

I bribed Phillip Martin, the all-star wide receiver and predominant jock on campus. He agreed to take one punch from Hank and go down.

As he approached Lisa, I stood near to watch the events unfold.

"Hey, baby," He said to her, "Listen, these two losers paid me to pick on you, then take a dive so he could look like a hero. But then I saw how pretty you are and I'd rather buy you lunch."

"Ya, whatever," Lisa said and started to bite on her hand.

Hank puffed up his chest and started walking toward them. I tried signaling him not to. But he didn't see me.

"Yo, foo! Get up off of my girl!" I was amazed he used three prepositions in a row. But then Phillip turned around and pushed Hank to the ground.

"So, anyway, babe, I was thinking..." Hank rose up to his feet and kicked Phillip behind his knee. Phillip fell down. And Hank started kicking him, over and over and over and over.

Then, he took the giant silver cross emblazoned with cubic zirconium and impaled Phillip's right arm with it. Hank spit on him and gave him a wedgie.

"I didn't know you were so violent," Lisa said smiling.

"Girl, you worth gettin' the death penalty for," he replied and pulled her to him.

Step 4: KISS



The three of us had a great time at the concert.

LOL & Solace

I checked up on Sylar's Blog and literally ROFLMAOed! I just had to write about it.

Hank has taken it upon himself to write on Sylar's Blog. I suppose it is a nice way to rub Sylar's death in the faces of his brainless readers.

It is so like Hank to do that. He's quite the jokester. A very funny guy. Hank the Jokester, we call him. And he loves his practical jokes!

I bet that's why he put "P.S. This is not a trap." Last Christmas Party he pulled an incredible prank.

We were all having a good time in the Primatech Community Room. Music was playing. People were dancing. Animals were mingling with the guests. (We hired a local petting zoo for entertainment. They had a Christmas special that included a Santa/Professional Animal Petter.)

I must have had a little too much to drink because I recall hitting on the fat lady from Dunder-Mifflin. Actually, come to think of it, it may have just been Rufus's wife. That makes more sense because we wouldn't invite our competitors to our own Christmas party. That would be insane!

Then, Santa comes running into the room, "Help! There's a dead man in that room!"

At first I thought he discovered Tito. He was a special person who could spray odor-eating disinfectant from his fingertips. Unfortunately, we put him up against a smell too powerful for even his stench-fighting skills. He was suffocated to death by Michael Moore's briefs.

We ran into the room and were horrified to see Hank, laying on a table, dead. I lost it. "What the Hades have you done to him?" I yelled as I grabbed Santa by his white beard.

Then, as I threatened to bust a cap in Santa's jolly ass, Hank said, "Boo!"

Santa's Jolly Ass

I released Santa from the near-fatal hold and gave Hank a hug. "Oh, you!" I said. "That was a good one. You really had me fooled."

We had him go back to being dead so we could all get pictures with him. I just don't remember him looking so realistically dead.

Wow! Look at the time. Sylar's corpse is probably half-way decomposed by now. You know what? Let it decompose. I feel like writing another Hank anecdote, and this one has Lisa!