Mr. Mxyzptlk – The Continued “Alien Saga”…

If you’ve suffered through my rantings/ravings SO far, you already know about Mr. Mxyzptlk – The Being From Another World. Just to recap – I first met Mr. Mxyzptlk when I was a mere 9 years old, when he was known simply as “Boy Mxyzptlk” – and boy oh BOY did he make an impression on EVERYONE even back then!

Shit, I think he started shaving around FOURTH grade; in third grade when I first met him, he had to limp along with a pair of exquisite “pork chop” sideburns that would have made Elvis green with envy!

Superhuman strength even then, did ZERO homework/studying, smart-mouthed and man-handled his Mom, Dad and ever’ OTHER adult like Bugs Bunny; did-all said-all knew-all. Owned ALL the cool shit – monster models, a 60mph mini-bike with a chainsaw engine, switchblade knives, a real Nazi Iron Cross medal, an Eisenhower jacket (insert requisite Google Search here); in short, he was “The King Of Cool”…

So – senior year of high school – me & Mr. Mxyzptlk are sitting in a walk-up bar in Newark NJ – I won’t EVEN be getting into what we were doing in Newark NJ on THAT day, but as a reminder – “never CONVICTED”.

It’s ~4PM, and we’re just about to head back out to civilization in Mr. Mxyzptlk’s 1965 Buick Wildcat. We’d been sitting there for maybe 90 minutes (~89 minutes too LONG, as it turned out), watching & listening to a “domestic altercation” that was slowly but steadily percolating between some skinny white dude and his bar skank lady friend.

Now, this was before the era of a bartender “cutting you off” when he determined that maybe you had too much to drink; this was when bartenders minded their own bidness, no matter WHAT! Add to it that this was in a REALLY bad part of town (not that there was any “good part of town” in Newark NJ back in the ’70’s!), and this dude looked like some wild-eyed, whacked-out Vietnam Vet. He was ripping into his lady friend INCESSANTLY about where she was the night before – over & over & OVER – each subsequent beer he drank only made him louder and more insistent/incessant.

It was a little comical at first, as his “animation level” ramped up; in fact, most of the patrons in the bar found it pretty amusing too, which only seemed to fuel this dude’s fervor. But then it got old, most of his “audience” found other things to pay attention to, so Skinny Dude ramped it up a notch by getting physical.

Now Mr. Mxyzptlk was the all-time CHAMPEEN at minding his own bidness, except and until it involved a woman being man-handled by a drunken whackadoo. He slid off his barstool, walked over to the other side of the bar, and quietly “advised” the skinny dude to maybe call it a day; I bet he even offered to buy the guy a drink.

Whackadoo said “O.K. – you’re right” – Mr. Mxyzptlk turned around to head back to his stool, and as soon as he turned around, the dude grabbed a beer bottle off of the bar and hit Mr. Mxyzptlk in the back of the neck with it! Error #2 committed! Bottle didn’t break, Mr. Mxyzptlk didn’t go down; in fact, he seemed to barely notice it at ALL! He turned around, looked the guy in the eyes as if to say “Is that all ya’ GOT, Tiny Dancer?” – then, as quick as a FLASH, he grabbed this cat by the scruff of his neck and the sack of his balls, ran him battering-ram style to and through the double swing-door entrance to the bar, and threw him DOWN the stairs – God Damnedest thing I’d ever seen short of a Yosemite Sam cartoon! For his troubles, Mr. Mxyzptlk received a round of applause from the entire bar and a free beer from the beer-tender. He sat back down next to me without a word; meanwhile, I tried to process what happened…

Well, we didn’t wait long – maybe ten minutes; back in the bar for Round Two comes our “You’re not done kicking MY ass quite YET!” antagonist. He comes RIGHT up to Mr. Mxyzptlk, who is seated to my left, looks him dead in the eyes, draws a vintage German Luger from behind his back, points it right at Mr. Mxyzptlk’s forehead, and pulls the trigger!

Holy Bowel-Voiding, Batman! This happened SO quickly that all we SHOULD have heard was an echoing gunshot, followed by the sounds of Mr. Mxyzptlk flopping around on the hardwood floor like a mackerel; instead, all we heard was an audible “click” – the gun failed to fire, and the bullet was sticking up out of top of the pistol like the nose of a salmon! Mr. Mxyzptlk sized all this up in ~1/10th of a second, noticed the absence of a ventilation hole in his gulliver – then, as quick as a mongoose striking a cobra-snake, he reached out, grabbed that pistol out of Whackadoo’s right hand with his left hand, reached around to the nape of the skinny dude’s neck with his right, then proceeded to “holster the weapon” in the guy’s still-gaping maw.

I really thought he was gonna get the entire pistol up in there, but a bunch of the dude’s busted teeth got in the way I guess. Then, once again – we got a replay of this retard’s “exit” from the bar – Mr. Mxyzptlk’s left hand grabbing the scruff of his neck, right hand grabbing the sack of his balls, and another ram-rod trip through the doors (after Mr. Mxyzptlk first “excusing himself” as he hastened his “parcel” by some wide-eyed entering patrons) – along with what seemed like a little extra “boost” of velocity applied right at the end, maybe to help Whackadoo to perhaps make it ALL the way down to the downstairs entrance/exit WITHOUT hitting any of the stairs. Mr. Mxyzptlk walked back to the barstool in cadence with another THUNDERING encore round of applause – “Drinks ALL around!” says the bartender…

After a few minutes’ processing what would be indelibly inscribed in my memory banks for-EVER, I suggested to my Alien Friend that may-HAPS he might be getting close to “running out of his 9 lives”. As you will learn in upcoming entries, this was NOT to be the case; pretty fuckin’ FAR from it, in point of fact…

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