To My Future Second Wife Part 2: Once upon a time, I could have loved you. Once, Once...

And now resident romantic, Tigerman, addresses his second bride-to-be, whoever she might be. Yes, we haven't hung ourselves yet.

Dear love of mine that seems so far away,

In case you still don't know who I am, I used to play bass guitar in a band called MFUJ, I currently work at a large television network (which I recently found out was just a front for a megalomaniacal record producer with a pocketful of deus ex machina, whatever that is) and I'm also your future husband, although I've been having my doubts.

Sure, there's the whole threat of imminent danger that I'm facing from G Mod and that mysterious tower being built. I'm not sure if that plotline will ever be resolved in a meaningful, non-convoluted mind****, but perhaps everyone's mind needs to be ****ed every now and again. My apologies.

I'm starting to lose hope that we will ever meet. Maybe a 6 foot tall tiger creature had no right to expect to find love not just once but twice. Perhaps it was hubris that has led me to this point. I was so blinded by my expectations for the future that I couldn't see that my present was being pulled away from beneath me. Isn't that just like life or fiction. You get swept up in the little everyday things that you miss the slowburn simmering in the background until you're on fire.

What does this have to do with us? Well, Everything seems so wrong. I haven't even met my first wife and already I have an evil plot looming over me with the possibility of ending my feline existence with a few typed paragraphs.

Is that all it takes to wipe away feelings and emotions and thoughts and ideas...?

Woman of unknown origin, I just want you to know that I would have loved you like the ocean loves the earth. If all I am is but a one-note joke that has gotten twisted up in some massive conspiracy that will most likely end in disappointment (Matrix Revolutions-style), then so be it. I've worked hard to get this far and I'm not about to give up now. And If you're not willing to give up either, then, maybe, you really are my future second wife. The one with whom I finally get it right with.

Love,

Tigerman

Your future husband?

Tigerman is a self-taught bass player as well as a six foot tall anthropomorphic tiger creature. He used to spend all of the time he wasn’t playing music talking about his future wives. Now, he spends every second trapped in a convoluted story arc waiting for release of some kind. No, not that kind of release. Perv.

Long Live rock n roll and convoluted plotlines on blogs that few people read. Well, at least the rock n roll part sounded good. Let's have some of that.

A large tower stood outside the window and just intimidated the hell out of Tigerman. How did he not see this monstrosity built using the best medieval construction equipment and methods earlier? We'll just leave that up to Tigerman's extreme laziness when it comes to exploring a neighborhood. You'd think he'd notice a huge stone tower reaching up to the proverbial heavens would catch his attention, but you know Tigerman. That cat is too focused on the pretty faces at the office to notice the conspicuously perpetual storm clouds hovering twenty yards away from his building or the ominous music that's playing non-stop outside by some overworked ethereal orchestra. Some cats are just too into the ladies'... Um, we've just been informed that next sentence was censored because it objectified women in an attempt to demonstrate that the character being described objectified women. We apologize for the near-fatal turn towards the chauvanistic. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog, already in progress.

"And that's all I have to say about my plans and well everything you would want know," said the malevolent record producer as he... Wait a minute. We're missing a huge piece of plot, exposition and nudity. HMMM? No nudity? Ok. I'm bored. Rewind please.

"What is going on, G Mod?" asked Tigerman. "It seems like weeks have gone by and still you haven't told me why you're here."

"Kitty, kitty. You never were observant, were you? We put a few attractive pieces of ass in front of you and you lose all focus." Whoa, whoa, whoa. Now how did that get past the censors? Oh, they were looking at her with the ... and the... Whooo... If only I weren't a disembodied voice composed solely of italicized text.

"I've ended the band. I was never interested in the collective whining and musical cacophony that you produced. I was after something much more precious. The future."

"What?" the confused tiger asked as he tried to escape, only to be slammed back down into his seat by the powerful arm of a conflicted gorilla.

"My business is time. I deal with futures. Deal in them... Whatever."

"What does that...?"

"You don't get it? My goal this whole time was to ruin Brick's future."

"Why?"

"It's valuable to me. I had to prevent him from achieving any sort of success or happiness. I sabotaged every move he ever made. I brought back his darker half, Slate, out of captivity by using monkey brain over there. I made sure he got expelled from school, got dishonorably discharged from that military that he tried to join and I ruined his credit score beyond salvation. I gave him no option but to be in the band. The only wild card was you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you deaf cat. Slate would verbally abuse Brick and give him false hopes of the band meaning something before snatching them away and Shadow would undermine Brick's every attempt to be free of the confines of my grasp, but you? You  were the only positive influence he had in his life. He recruited you personally into the band because you reminded him of a simpler time. Before reality tv and self destruction entered his mind. I tried my best to isolate him from you, but you two were inseparable. until I got you this job where you could ogle the ladies all day long."

"You got me the job!"

"Yes, I know the owner...cause, as of now, I am the owner. You see, the former owner was a big believer in pre-twentieth century customs and when I challenged him to a duel, he accepted and I bested him."

"So that's why I haven't seen him..."

"Oh there's more. Like I told you, my business is time. I stole what time that douche had left and channeled it into the tower. You see that's the secret ingredient to my endgame. I profit at expense of others futures. It's a pretty standard business model and it's working for me."

"This all seem like you copied the plot of an episode of Angel."

"Oh! That's where I got the idea. That casino episode with Gunn... or was it Lorne? I had totally forgotten. Thanks for reminding me. You're not totally worthless after all."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing. you're future is worthless to me. I just needed to isolate you from him so that I could finally extract his future. It's the key to completing the tower. The final brick, if you will."

"Why him?"

"It always had to be him. He was the key to all of this. But he had to be defeated, literally and spiritually before I could achieve my goal. And now those foolish occuppy protesters will end up sacrificing someone who actually could have been their leader just because I told them to."

"No..." murmured Tigerman as the tower flashed a mighty shade of crimson as another person's future was absorbed into the giant metaphor... I mean tower.

    

     

G Mod: "World's worst solo cover artist releases his take on Dreamer Deceiver. I Issue a challenge to all you bored record companies. Try to make something like this sell. What? You chicken? Or Lazy? Yeah, with a capital L."

Before he was threatening Tigerman with the vaguest of threats while a Ronnie James Dio lyric came to life outside the Tiger International office building, G Mod was dismantling the MFUJ band name, one initial at a time. Well, it lost the J awhile ago. (Remember MFU+?) Things were going pretty badly for the band after they filmed the fourth and quite likely final MFUJSF webisode. While Tigerman had escaped the commotion by spending all his time at his new job, Brick was left with the humiliating task of watching his band publically humiliated by its own manager, who had seized control of the band away and tormented Brick with that fact ever since. You can just imagine what sort of graphic, edgy metaphor we could use to describe what it feels like to watch something you've loved and nurtured suddenly and perversely violated by someone while you watch helplessly... ok, we've just been informed that we're being sued by the makers of Law and Order for encroaching on their turf of socially acceptable deplrable programming.

With the sullen drummer, Shadow, standing behind him as a reluctant bodyguard, G Mod delivered a scathing press conference in which he denounced Brick as a "One-dimensional noise merchant who should have sold his soul in order to produce better music. His 'real' soul, not the metaphorical one that I got when he signed onto my record label."

He then pulled out a newly printed single, a rarely seen commodity in the digital era, which featured Brick's first attempt at a cover of Dreamer Deceiver. "Have you ever heard such rubbish in all your life? It's so bad that I've been reduced to using British slang to describe it. It's bloody awful, blood out of your ears...."

Although the cover was produced by Brick's solo band (literally solo), The Falcons, G Mod still controlled at least 99.9 % of all profits made by the band and all its spin-offs and side projects. "Effective immediately," he declared, "MFUJ is now officially dissolved. Anyone except upper management and the blog staff is prohibited from reproducing MFUJ without the prior consent of G Mod himself. As per the contract that Brick had unwittingly signed and lost all his privileges and rights as both a performer and a musician, what this would lead to, we'll delve into later."

For more of g Mod's thoughts, check us out on twitter. Don't you hate it when people beg you to follow them on twitter as a man would try to woo a woman.

"Go ahead and sell the song. I bet none of you record holders would take a chance by selling the song and not going into the red. pretty difficult. You're all just lazy"