It's a twista, it's a twista!

After the ass whoopin' Springfield took on Sunday night, I decided that it would be a great time to go up and pay my bills. After all, they were due the next day. On getting there however, I realized that this post-apocalyptic version of Springfield was going to be more of an inconvenience than I had originally thought. This became apparent when every FUCKING ROAD TO ANYWHERE NEAR MY APARTMENT was closed off by some morbidly obese, mustachioed, doughnut munching pig cop standing by his car languidly waving his hand in the direction he wants you to go. This annoyed me. Somewhat.

When I finally got to my apartment I decided to ditch my car and take a tour of the destruction. At this point I should mention that I have a check list for qualifying true post-apocalyptic landscape. First of all there should be no power, no gas, and if possible complete anarchy. Check. Secondly, people should be walking around with no place to go, or standing outside their home looking outward with a primal glimmer of threat in their eyes. Check. Finally, I should get to prance about in a Beyond Thunderdome-esq wonderland of destruction. Check.

So much for the pig that lives in the brick house.

The one of the first things I noticed. This is Rob's building. Otherwise just some windows blown out, but the brick detail work is almost competely gone. Fortunately it fell over in order so they just need to glue it back together and slap it back on the wall. In a related story, I know nothing about how construction works.

The dangers of living with Katie Kaboom.

The townhouse across from mine had a new look to it as well. Something was different. Then it hit me! The roof is... missing. Where could it be?

The roof, the roof, the roof is... on that guy's van.

As I've often said, "Take my spot and pay the price." I found it to be pretty hilarious when the owner of this van tested the engine and it still worked. He drove it to another spot. However the radio was beyond all hope.

The first of many life endangering pictures.

One of the hundreds of snapped telephone poles dangling their telecommunications and power lines dangerously over the roads and walkways. I decided to get a picture with one. Why not? I'm a mayhem tourist. It's what we do.

Feelin' the power between my legs.

Sorry, the sun was too bright to aim a decent shot, but you get the gist. I was later informed that, had there been any power running through those lines I would have been dead or shocked within two feet of it. But hey, it makes for another nice picture. As I was walking along looking for more potential pictures, I saw a telephone pole falling on a group of orphans. Quickly I charged forward, caught the pole with my bare hand, and had them take a picture. As seen below:

Damn it kid, you got sun glare in it. Next time I'm letting the pole fall.

A little harsh. I quickly changed my mind about the glare and decided it made me look even more heroic. As such, I withdrew my threat on the orphan. And gave him some food. Orphans are wild about food. Let me tell ya.

Thank you, loyal subject.

This isn't actually from the tornado. The billboard just bowed down before me when I passed by. They all do that. It's a little destructive, but at least I'm getting some respect. Apparently they revere me as a king. I guess they heard about the orphans.

- Scott