This subreddit is for members of the Zeenunian Army. Zeenu is the planet that Sheen lands on in the popular, officially canon spinoff of Jimmy Neutron, titled Planet Sheen.
Why does Jimmy get all the love? Sheen needs some too! His divorce with Libby was pretty tough. Since then, Sheen has ascended into god status and has started a new religon, Sheenism.
When it comes to inventing advanced and unreal technology and machines who here is the best?
Tony Stark(Marvel Comics). Lex Luthor(Dc Comics). Dexter(Dexter’s Laboratory). Jimmy Neutron(Jimmy Neutron Boy Genies). Phineas and Ferb. Dr Eggman(Sonic). Dr Wily(Megaman).
"You're right," I said. "I hate it."
"You got a better idea?" Inanna asked. I shook my head. "No, and no time, either, let's go."
"Dude, you need like, a sergeant or something. I got you," the man said as he and his girlfriend or wife followed us back to the lounge.
"What kind of leadership experience do you have?" Inanna asked him.
"Uh, nothing like your husband," he admitted. I couldn't help but smirk. "Good, you've got the job," I said.
"What?" he asked.
"I know how the show portrays things, but in reality, Jerry's less of a leader and more a guy who's just kinda good at planning and really well liked. He's actually more of a lone wolf, really."
He looked at his girlfriend, who looked back. Both of them looked worried. I didn't blame them one bit.
"Okay," Inanna said as we reached the door. "This is on you, babe. Maybe turn your aura on a bit, and give your voice some extra volume."
I felt my cheeks burning. This was even worse than going on stage a few hours ago. At least then, there was some structure, and I had Inanna with me to take some of the attention.
I opened the lounge door and stepped in, the others hot on my heels. I stared at the crowd and felt my heart begin to flutter. Everyone here could die if I failed. So no pressure.
I followed Inanna's advice and let my natural aura slip a little loose. I could feel the weight of the woman's gaze change as it reached her. A second later, a few people, mostly women, nearest to us turned to eye me.
Inanna took my arm in her hand. "Remember, you want to be a little bit arrogant, babe. You don't have to be a dick about it, you just have to be straightforward. Acknowledge who you are and what you've done. Speak straight to them, and above all, act as confident as you can. Maybe work up a little righteous indignation. You're always a lot more confident when you're angry."
I nodded, accepting her advice. I put a little magic into my voice and cleared my throat. The sound was loud, but only a few people noticed in the din inside. People continued to talk and speculate and cry all over the room.
"Excuse me," I said. Nobody really paid me any mind. "Can I have your attention, please?" I asked. Still, nobody noticed. I glanced at Inanna, who shook her heard slightly. I decided to take a different approach and channeled Gary.
"EVERYBODY LISTEN UP!" I shouted, goosing the magic on my voice a bit. My words carried through the large room and a silence fell as all eyes turned to me.
"Okay, that's better," I said. I began to pace back and forth, hands on my hips, trying to strike a confident-looking figure. I was probably failing.
"Most of you probably recognize me from the talk just now. For anyone who doesn't, my name is Jerry Williams. I'm the man whom the character of Jimmy Waters in the television show The Legend of Jimmy
is based on. Not everything in the show is accurate, but the broad strokes are.
"I killed Astoram. I led the takedown of the Cult of Blood. I led the way in the fight against the primordials, and I was the one who killed Sarisa and saved the Sixteenth World. Those parts are all true."
A ragged cheer went up from the crowd, which made me blush again. This was not an appropriate time to cheer.
"As you all know," I continued once I thought they'd be able to make out my words again. "This ship is under attack. For those who didn't see it, it's a kraken. As it turns out, they're much bigger in real life than Hollywood ever prepared us for. The kraken is hunting, and it plans to eat us-" A collective gasp rose from the crowd, but I pushed on.
to. But it's an animal, and I'm a human being, so I'll put my plans against its, any day. But to make my plan work, I need everybody who can to help. As many people as possible. I can't kill or drive this thing off myself, at least not without sinking the ship in the process. But with your help, we can fight this thing off.
"My wife here is going to be producing some weapons. What I need is for everyone who can swing a sword or shoot a rifle to make an orderly line right here and get your weapon. We don't have a lot of time, folks, so it's important that you remain calm and orderly. An old maxim of combat is 'Slow is smooth, smooth is fast,'. We'll finish much faster by remaining orderly than by rushing. So please, start lining up now. Together, we can fight this thing. We can drive it back into the depths, and go home with a story to tell our families."
This time, the cheer was overwhelming. It startled me with its ferocity. Despite my admonition, almost every young man and quite a few middle-aged men, along with a surprising number of women of all ages surged forward, eager to be the first volunteers.
Inanna rushed over to push a couple of square tables together, along with the couple from outside. They got them laid out and got behind them just in time. I had never understood why Inanna kept an entire arsenal of weapons in hammerspace until then. I'd told her many times that there was no way she could use hundreds of slightly-enchanted swords or almost a thousand gen-1 through gen-3 assault rifles and a similar number of handguns she regularly collected from the DCM group in lieu of retiring them (depending on the exact sub-generation, they couldn't always be upgraded to the latest standards of enchantment). But now I understood. She'd been preparing for a day like today.
I wondered idly why it was that people felt the need to look to me as the hero, when really, Inanna was the one they wanted. She was smarter, more experienced, and a better leader than me, no doubt. But she seemed content to be an intimidating figure standing at my side.
I was jealous.
Inanna began producing weapons and handing them out. She didn't let the volunteers choose their weapon, but assigned them as she saw fit. She had quite the variety of weapons, too. Shorter folks got polearms, mostly large Dane axes with six-foot hafts. Larger folks got swords, either knightly sword or viking swords, but the largest folks got longswords and -in the case of a six-foot three woman with broad shoulders- a zweihander, not unlike Inanna's own blade.
The guns were also distributed to anyone who professed any military or other shooting experience. These, she passed out purely by request, asking if they'd prefer a rifle or handgun. I was initially surprised at the number who chose a handgun, until I remembered that a lot of people would have experience shooting those at gun ranges and in large, rural back yards. She quickly got the couple involved, so they could serve three people at a time. With each interaction taking only four or five seconds, we were arming several dozen people a minute to start with. Inanna was even smarter than I originally thought, though, and she began hauling out weapons by the armful and dumping them off, grabbing the occasional newly-armed volunteer and pulling them behind their impromptu counter to help assign weapons.
Soon, she was off the line entirely, letting the others do the assigning as she continued to add to a pile of swords and a pile of guns. A dozen people stood behind the table two minutes in, each one assigning a dozen weapons a minute.
The ship shook three more times as we passed everything out. I had each person join me outside after they'd retrieved their weapon. A few of the people with guns took potshots at the giant tentacles, but I had them lower their weapons. For this to work, we all had to attack at once. We needed to surprise the beast with pain.
Finally, Inanna joined me outside, letting me know she was there by slipping a hand between my legs to fondle me. I turned to face her and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You ready?" I asked.
"To be the first to ever fight off a kraken?" she asked with a laugh. "Fuck yeah."
I nodded and added more magic to my voice.
"Okay, listen up! I need to group you up into units! I need a hundred people per unit, that's about one for each of the eight tentacles-" I was interrupted by one of the ship's massive smoke stacks being ripped free by one of the tightening tentacles. As soon as it finished collapsing, I continued.
"Start grouping up now! We don't have a lot of time!"
The man -I still hadn't caught his name- from the couple who'd been helping us rushed forward and began grabbing people, assigning them the task of leading units. Huh, that was quite inspired. Maybe he should be leading.... I glanced over to see Inanna giving me a slight shake of the head, having figured out what I was just thinking. I shrugged and looked back to the crowd, which was now showing some divisions as people clumped up. I waited a few more seconds for the scattered people still not in a group to get into one before I continued.
"Okay, You guys are team one," I said. "Head all the way aft, to the very last tentacle. Start attacking as soon as you hear the rest of us shooting. The folks with swords will chop the bottoms of the tentacles, the folks with guns will shoot the tops. Try to get your people into the best positions to do the most damage possible. Go."
The group turned and began to jog aft.
"Okay," I said, gesturing to another group. "You're team two. Same instructions, just pick the next tentacle up. Go."
The other teams began to follow, not needing any more instruction.
"How much time do we give them?" I asked Inanna.
"Three minutes," she said without hesitation. I nodded, as that sounded about right. Still, it was going to be a long three minutes. The ship continued to creak and groan from the strain of the tightening tentacles.
"This is gonna be close," the woman said. I took my chance. "Hey, what's your name?" I asked.
"I'm Charlize, and my brother is Jason," she said.
"Your brother? Oh, I thought you two were, uh..." I stammered. She flashed me a grin. "We're from Alabama, but not that
part of the state."
"I uh, just didn't expect a... A brother and sister to take a cruise... I mean... Ugh. Sorry. It's fine, apologies if I offended you."
The woman looked at Inanna, an eyebrow quirked. Inanna nodded. "Always. It's a part of his charm."
I watched the last team get into position near the closest tentacle. "Okay," I said. "Let's join them."
We all ran over. I decided to use my sword, summoning Godslayer from hammerspace. As the blade appeared in my hand, the magic caused everyone around me to turn and look. The shimmering air around the blade raised a lot of eyebrows.
"Wow, I can feel
that thing," one woman muttered.
"I've been layering enchantments on it for years," I explained.
"Did you name it? All cool swords need a name," a younger guy who looked to be a fellow after my own (nerdy) heart asked. I pursed my lips and balked at the ridiculous question.
"Of course," I said. "This is Godslayer."
"Holy shit!" he said, his eyes widening. A few others turned to check it out.
"Yes, this is the sword I killed Sarisa with. I also took Tysrane's hand with it, but that's... I'm not exactly proud of that," I said.
"Bet Tysrane isn't, either," the nerdy guy said. The woman who'd first spoken looked at him and said, "Bet Tysrane makes a point of not pissing off Jim- er, Jerry."
"Fuck yeah," the nerdy guy mumbled. I blushed.
"Is everyone ready?" I asked loudly. A ragged chorus of agreements greeted me. I realized I should be more inspiring, so I tried again, adding the magic back to my voice.
"Are we all ready to show this thing what happens when it messes with us?!" I shouted. A harsh cheer erupted.
"Lets go, then!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and rushed forward to the giant mass of glistening flesh before me. Gunfire erupted behind me as me and dozens of others began slashing into the tentacle.
As the assault picked up in pace, a new sound emerged. It started as the crackle of broken parts of the ship's superstructure, the tentacles writhing in response to the sudden pain. But it changed into a gurgling roar that grew louder and louder.
Suddenly, the roar grew more hoarse and I glanced aside to see a massive shape rising behind the structure to my left. Using a bit of magic, I jumped onto the roof and rushed to the edge.
The kraken's body had broken the surface. I could see where the tentacles joined the body, and in between them, the beast's mouth. It didn't have a beak like an octopus or a squid, but a massive, gaping maw full of sharp, pointy teeth. As the mouth rose above the water, the sound grew deafening, drowning out even the gunfire.
I stared at the thing as the mouth closed and sort of drew back into the body, the roar dying out. With a sudden loud hissing sound, the mouth shot back out, almost like a goblin shark's jaws, opening wide and releasing an enormous spray of a steaming black liquid.
The fluid splashed over the ship, smoking and bubbling where it landed. A few people were splattered with it, and each and every one of them screamed and began to try to wipe the sticky substance off themselves.
"Get them to the pools!" I shouted. "Get the injured to the pools!" A few people heard me and I watched as one burly older gentleman grabbed a flailing young lady, tossed her over his shoulder, and rushed to the pool. He splattered himself with the fluid, which bubbled and smoked as it struck him, but he paid it no mind. When he reached the pool, he jumped in with the woman, and I saw him drag her under and start stripping her clothes. More bodies splashed into the pool, and I nodded in approval. Taking off whatever clothing was soaked in the stuff was a good idea.
I turned back to see the beast sucking its jaw back in again. This was no good. It had already knocked about one in ten people off the line, either suffering from whatever kind of acid this was, or helping those so afflicted. If it kept this up, it would stop us.
That's when I realized that my first plan was viable now. Its body was out of the water. I could target it, right now, and end this.
I rose into the air, charging my strike. I dismissed Godslayer and, having learned from my efforts against the primordials, dismissed my clothes as well. I really liked that T-shirt.
I flew up and away from the beast, reaching a point about two hundred yards away from the ship. I could see the ends of tentacles in the water below me, really speaking to the size of the creature, as those tentacles were currently still wrapped around the ship.
I closed my eyes and prayed. "Please let go, please
let go." I opened my eyes back up and waited.
The beast spat more acid onto the deck, but it had already splattered the people nearest to its mouth, and those near to them had helped. Only a few people caught some of the acid, and a few more stopped to help them get in the water.
The beast was thrashing now. I could see the ship rocking back and forth, and the tentacles were coming loose and tightening down. I watched, waiting for my chance.
Finally, blessedly, it happened. Six of the tentacles lifted up, the ends slipping out of the water. They were no longer grasping the ship, having pulled back to end the pain our ragtag army was inflicting.
I drew in as much power as I could manage and shot forward, my shield forming a shell around me.
---- Charlize Mayberry, Totally Not Fucking Her Brother, Jesus Christ, They're Just Best Friends, I Mean, it's Her Brother For Crying Out Loud
Charlize watched as Jerry made the inhuman jump to the structure to her left to survey the battle. She could see the kraken's body, and she could see Jerry's shoulders and head as he regarded it.
He looked even more impressive than his counterpart in the show. Magic that she could see and feel surrounded him, making him crackle with strange colors she couldn't give name to. His sword shimmered, the blade a thing of immense gravity, drawing the eye to it. His shoulders were firmly set, and even from behind, she could sense the grim determination. She remembered a scene from the show, where Karen had watched him and whispered "Angel of Death," and she decided right then and there that that scene had actually happened.
When the kraken spat some kind of burning black bile over everyone, she heard him shouting, as if he'd been prepared for this. She found a man screaming to her right, trying to get the stuff off his face. "Come on!" she yelled, grabbing one of his hands and rushing him to the pool. By the time she got there, the water was gray and muddy, and partially or entirely naked people with serious-looking burns were climbing back out. She shoved the guy in, watching him go under. A few seconds later, he emerged, scrubbing at his face.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god... Thank you," he said, his eyes still squeezed shut. She could see the wound on his cheek where the acid had eaten into the skin, but he had managed to rinse most of it away.
"Come on," she called, "Get out." He blinked his eyes open, then swam to the edge. More people were coming in, and she worried that the pool water might get saturated with enough of the acid to become acidic, itself.
Charlize helped the man out of the pool, then turned to look back down the ship. The tentacles were rising, one after another, trying to escape the pain of gripping the vessel. Those armed with guns continued to fire, pouring lead into the savaged appendages as those with melee weapons caught their breaths.
She watched as all but two of the tentacle lifted off the ship. Hope swelled in her breast and she glanced over at a burly, older man with no shirt on, leaning on his knees and catching his breath, next to a younger woman in nothing but a pair of panties, laying on the deck with burns all over her legs and torso.
The man caught her gaze and flashed her a grim smile. "Almost," he said. Charlize nodded and raised her rifle, shooting at the distant tentacles that remained attached to the ship.
She had only fired once or twice when the entire ship shuddered and a deafening crack caused her to look up. She saw a golden streak flash into and through the beast's body, which was more clearly seen from her current position on the pool deck.
The kraken simply exploded.
Chunks of wet, slippery flesh flew outward with enough force to bowl over anyone they struck and leave dents in the metal sides of the ship. The two remaining tentacles on the ship let go, pulling back under the water as the six in the air flopped down, sending a cleansing wave of seawater over the deck.
The water ran red with the kraken's blood as it swept over the sides, carrying chunks of monster and a few people who'd been caught off guard with it. Charlize grabbed one guy and helped him catch his footing before the flow subsided.
She straightened up and looked over to where the dead beast was sinking beneath the surface. A gold-glowing figure emerged from the water, and Charlize recognized Jerry.
He was naked. His body was hard and tightly muscled, but lean and agile-looking. His skin glowed with a golden light, and she could see red lightning playing about his skin as he rose into the air and then glided over to the ship and sat back down.
The crowd, who had begun cheering at the beast's death, fell into a hush of awe as they all turned to the glowing figure. He exuded power, commanding every eye to look at him. His feet settled down on the deck and he walked forward.
With a sudden rush of heat in her cheeks, Charlize realized that he was rocking an enormous hard-on. Like, impressively big. If she'd seen one like that in a porno, she'd have assumed it was CGI or a prosthetic. If she'd been able to think straight, she'd probably have found it a little ridiculous.
He walked past her, turning his head and clasping her shoulder. "Thank you," he said with a smile. Her knees went weak at his touch and she began to reflect upon the fact that, at least in the show, Ishtar loved to bring women home for herself and Jimmy.
She watched him thank everyone he passed, until he finally found his wife. They embraced, and then a few seconds later, they vanished.
Charlize caught her breath and let her heartbeat slow down. A woman approached her, and she recognized her as the last person whose question Jerry had declined to answer during the talk.
"Do you know where their cabin is?" she asked. Charlize shook her head. Another woman approached, holding hands with an effeminate-looking man carrying a handgun. "They're in the Princess Suite, it's in the big stack up fore," she said with a gesture.
"I'm gonna go see if they're there," the first woman said breathlessly. The couple nodded, and all three of them took off. Jason put his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him.
"I'm, uh..." Charlize said, making up her mind right then and there. "I'm gonna go do something. I'll be around in a bit."
She hurried inside, found an elevator to ride to the top floor and them hurried down until she saw the door labeled "Princess Suite". She knocked on it.
A second later, the door was opened by a naked woman that Charlize didn't recognize. Looking past her, she could see a tangle of limbs. Moans and gasps already filled the air.
The woman stepped aside as Charlize stepped in and immediately began tugging at her shirt.
---- Jerry Williams, Just Wants a Quiet Vacation For Once In His Life
The next morning, I sat on a deck chair on the upper observation deck as the ship pulled into port for repairs. We'd all been given vouchers for a new cruise, as compensation for the one cut short by the attack. The captain of the ship had come to personally thank me for rallying the defense. Unfortunately, she'd done this during the orgy Inanna had organized right after the attack, and it had taken the bridge crew over an hour to locate her when she failed to return.
I winced, thinking about that.
Inanna had turned her chair to face mine and had her legs on my lap. A few other people were also laid out with us. Mostly women, but a few men as well. All of us had come up here from my cabin. All of us were naked, and though this wasn't a nudist cruise, nobody seemed inclined to complain. The staff had recognized Inanna and I, and we were being waited on hand and foot.
I took a sip of my champagne and rubbed Inanna's shin.
"I've been thinking," she said.
"About what?" I asked. She cracked one eye open. "About the beard you had when you found us in the spire."
"Just the beard, huh? Not about... Everything else?"
"I think about everything else often enough. Today, I'm thinking about the beard."
"Okay," I said. "What about it?"
"You should grow it back. Let it get a little longer." I chuckled and tickled her behind the knee, eliciting a little squeal and narrowly escaping behind kicked in the family jewels.
"I always knew you had a thing for Gary," I said. She laughed outright at that, but before she could say anything else, a passenger walked up with a notebook.
"Hello," I said. "Hi," he responded, and I recognized him as the nerdy-looking young man from the fight, the one who'd asked me if Godslayer had a name.
"I was just wondering if I could...." he held the notebook out to me.
"Sure," I said, shifting Inanna's legs and standing. "Would you like a photo, too?"
He grinned at me like I'd offered him a Ferrari for Christmas. Inanna rose with us and accepted his phone, and I took a moment to smile at the camera and give him bunny ears while Inanna snapped a couple pictures. When she handed him the phone back, I took the notebook and a sharpie he had stuck through the rings.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Tom.... Tom Wilford," he stammered, still not quite believing this was happening. I wrote him a little note and signed it.
"Tom, if you ever find yourself working with magic and want to make a career out of it, you can contact me. I'm the department head of Magical Research and Development at the Divine Crisis Management Group. Our number's on the website and in the yellow pages."
"That's awesome!" he exclaimed. "I've actually been working... Uh, look." He stuck the notebook between his knees and held his hands a foot or two apart, concentrating. I saw sparks appear between them. Just a few, and they were small, but they were clearly visible. The kid had talent. I clasped his shoulder.
"That's a legitimate talent, Tom. I mean that. Most people can't do any magic at all without training. The fact that you worked that out is very promising."
He beamed at me. I mean, he positively glowed
at the praise.
"Thank you," he stammered. "Thanks... Thank you for... For saving the ship and for..."
I smiled back at him. "It was my pleasure. And it was you guy, all of the passengers who fought, who saved the ship.
I ended the interaction with a hug that definitely excited him, and don't ask me how I know, please. He bounded off on cloud nine as I resumed my seat and Inanna put her legs back on my lap.
"See?" she said. I glanced over to see the sun glistening off the light sheen of sweat coating her dusky skin. God, she was so beautiful.
"It wasn't so hard, was it?"
"I'm still not so sure I'm cut out to be a leader. And I'm still not convinced that the risk of me turning in the asshole from my visions is past," I said.
"Bah," she replied dismissively. "You are a leader, whether you like it or not. You're a hero
, like it or not. I know you wouldn't have chosen this position, but it's been chosen for you, and the best thing you could do is be the best damn hero you can be."
I thought about that for a minute, and honestly, I couldn't argue the point. Maybe she was right, and I should do a bit more in terms of being a good hero, instead of just keeping my head down and trying to help where I could.
"Besides," she continued a moment later. "Emperor Gerald had sixty years of Sarisa whispering in his ear to get that way. You've got me. I'll keep you on the straight and girthy."
I laughed. "Straight and narrow," I corrected.
"It's anything but narrow," she replied mildly. "Although, now that I think about it, I prefer when I'm the one on the straight and girthy." She reached down to grab my hand and pull it up to her pubic hair. I gave it a little tug, then ran my fingers along the stretch marks at the base of her belly. Those were possibly the sexiest part of her whole body, and even the least sexy part of her was jaw-dropping. She opened an eye to frown at me, until her gaze roamed down and noticed the effect that touching them was having on a different part of me. Her feet shifted over to that part and I felt that old familiar thrill as she touched me. It was just as intense this time as it had been the first time.
"Ready for another?" she asked.
"I think we should relax for a bit," I said. Inanna smirked and her eyes focused past me. "They don't," she said. I glanced behind to see two of the women from the orgy walking over.
"You forgot to turn your aura off, love," she said as she set up and moved to sit on my lap.
"Here we go again," I groaned as hands and lips began to touch me.
Don't tell anyone, but in all candor, this was the part of being a hero I enjoyed the most.
For example the Fallout game series, the show Hello Tomorrow, the movie Fido, or even animated films such as Planet 51 Jimmy Neutron, or the Iron Giant. Not necessarily movies about the 1950s but ones with the vibe and some sort of alternate technology or corporation that makes a drastically different timeline than the real world. Even 1920s Art Deco style would work. Movies like LA Confidential, Hairspray, or grease aren’t exactly what Im looking for. Something most dystopian.
While watching Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius, it made me wonder. If Jimmy was ever introduced to the Marvel universe where would you rank him among the smartest people in the Marvel Universe
I'm down to play norms ranked or arams. I am PST and usually on evening time.
So I was showing someone what the series Moomin was and it was the first episode from the English dub, now the main character Moomin himself sounds very similarly to a character from a more recent show from my era (late 90’s-early/mid2000’s) it’s not very specific because it’s a character in my mind who is the typical side character who is possibly wearing glasses and classified as the stereotypical “nerdy-boy” from that cartoon era, it’s highly unlikely the character I’m trying to find is from a clay-mation, or live action TV show/movie, however some possibly helpful tips I had flash in my mind as I heard the voice were Jimmy Neutron, and for some reason Dexter’s Lab. I’m highly interested in the suggestions and this could be even a couple or multiple correct answer solution as this is such a vague prompt. Any help would be highly appreciated!
Hi everyone, I have recently been trying to track down a cartoon I watched when I was in elementary school around 7~ years ago. I will provide all information I can. My school was in Alberta, Canada. The cartoon was in french as it was used in french language class, this was a class to learn the language as the school was english. The show had a very similar vibe to jimmy neutron in its animation style. The show takes place in a castle as a scientist tries to capture or like date the princess. I also remembered the teacher played it off a DVD. It was a TV show I think?
If anyone remembers this please let me know as I'm trying to track it down. Thanks.
Lebron James - The easy joke here is that you are somebody who doesn’t really know anything about basketball and just picked the guy you recognised from Space Jam or adverts, but the truth runs a little bit deeper than that. If Lebron James is your favourite player you don’t even like basketball, you like arguing online. The sad truth is, you desperately crave the facade of friendship that comes with the tribalism inherent to picking a side in a popular argument. You exist only to say Lebron is better than Jordan or Curry or Dwyane Wade or whoever it is you and your gang are arguing about that week. Any game of basketball that doesn’t have Lebron in it is completely worthless to you unless it can be used as evidence about a player that Lebron played with/against. Any game with Lebron in it is a nightmare, because you know if he plays badly MJ fans will make fun of you on Twitter, and to you that’s all that matters.
Steph Curry - To be a Curry fan means that, intrinsically, you are spoiled. Your hands are soft and unworked, your mummy still pays for your groceries and you have a manservant to wipe your ass when you’ve finished shitting. You were raised on state-funded winning and excuses for failure. You would never survive even a day in the wild, you shrink from adversity like a child fleeing the hand of an abusive father and you speak like a ten-year old. You have no place in the dirtier arguments of the NBA, you consider yourself above them. Steph and his superteam have coddled you, made you feeble with his asterisk rings. The thought of supporting a REAL player, somebody you have to FIGHT for scares you too much. You are, and forever will be, bitchmade.
Kawhi Leonard - You will never understand why the rest of us are so jealous of you. Kawhi has his rings, he has his fan love and he has an excuse to retire early and not embarrass you with the sight of having to watch him average 7 points a game for the Grizzlies at the age of 36. You support a basketball player who isn’t. Kawhi is now little more than a myth, a legend of the rings of yesteryear that echoes throughout the barren planes of San Antonio and Toronto. All you, as his trusted liege can do is keep the flame alive for as long as you can. The winds may howl and call him a pussy for his load management but as long as you shelter the flame, and Kawhi keeps conveniently getting injured when the Clippers need him, you will be safe. They will always remember the Philly shot. That’s all you need.
Joel Embiid - He can’t keep getting away with this, right? I mean, you put in WORK to get him that MVP, more work than he did, and this is how he repays you? You remember a time when you laughed at the fans of ringless players. AI, Melo, Lillard, Chris Paul, Harden until he saw the light, all bums. Embiid would get you a ring, he was designed to get you a ring, he had to get you a ring. You deserve a ring. You sat through the rebuild, all those injury problems, Ben fucking Simmons, all because you were promised a ring. And every year you would say ‘we lost because of this thing that isn’t Embiid’s fault, we’ll be back next year!’. And for a while, the public believed you. They bought your tales and your lies. Not anymore. They know the truth now, and they hate him for it. Deep down, you do too.
Kevin Durant - How many times will KD ‘seek a new challenge’ or ‘make the move right for him’ before you come to terms with what he is? He’s a nasty ring chaser, and that’s okay. Everyone would respect you more if you just admitted it. You can cope all you want and justify all his moves by claiming ‘toxic environment!’ or ‘the front office hated him!’ but even you don’t believe that, you just say it to save face. The worst part is, you haven’t heard the worst of it yet. KD has gone remarkably unscrutinized by NBA media as a whole, but when people start to question whether the most remarkable unicorn the NBA had seen since Wemby should have more than two state-funded rings, you might have some explaining to do. Maybe he should have stayed loyal to Oakland. Not OKC though, fuck that place.
James Harden - I want you to find a coin right now and flip it, catch it in your hand and turn it over. Take note of what side it lands on and keep flipping it until it lands on the other side. If you can flip this coin 56 times and have it land on the same side every time, congratulations! You have matched the statistical probability of the 2018 Rockets missing 27 consecutive threes. What this exercise should show you is that God is real and for whatever reason, he hates James Harden. Spare your soul and support a real player instead.
Giannis Antetokounmpo - Nobody has ever enjoyed a Giannis performance without already being a fan of Giannis in the first place. He is perhaps the most consistently boring superstar to watch. He never takes threes unless they’re wide open, he has never had a super interesting or acrobatic dunk, he loves free throws and he makes about 14 barely contested layups per game. He has no dribbling bag and his defence relies on simply being large. He is a boring player, and you know this, because that’s why you like him. Your idea of ‘good basketball’ is simply the person who can score the most points with the highest efficiency. You live and die by the box score because you genuinely think that’s the objective way of saying who had the best game. You could be sat in front of an Excel spreadsheet instead of a Bucks game and have essentially the same amount of fun, because your brain has been programmed to release dopamine whenever it sees three numbers over 10 next to each other. You are boring, we all think you’re dull, and when the rest of us are discussing real basketball we don’t want you anywhere near us because your idea of humour is just saying the jokes that Giannis said again. An Allen Iverson comp would kill you on the spot.
Russell Westbrook - It would be easy to make a joke about how much you miss 2017 and how you pretended it still is to try and stop the pain from setting in, but to be honest I honestly think you do still genuinely believe it to be 2017. For you, time hasn’t progressed at all. You’ve been known to play Despacito and Ed Sheeran when you get the aux and you can’t stop talking about how excited you are for Infinity War to come out. And yes, you do still somehow believe Russell Westbrook is a good player. Despite all your friends and family pleading with you to move on and showing you Youtube videos of that time he hit the side of the backboard, you firmly believe that Russ is still cooking on the Thunder. I can promise you, it doesn’t get better. Wake up now before we lose you forever.
Nikola Jokic. You are a 35 year old white guy with a beard and glasses who would, if asked to, happily pay to get advanced basketball statistics. Your life is filled with words like ‘True Shooting’ and ‘Player Impact Estimate’ that the rest of us couldn’t give a single shit about. You are who KD was talking about when he said people watch basketball through a graph. If I showed you a powerpoint saying that Mike Conley is the piece missing from the Suns to make them chip favourites you would believe me as long as I added in enough bar graphs. You have a poster of Ernie on your wall. You have never discussed basketball without double checking a fact on your phone. When you go to a bar in a city you don’t know you make a big deal about ordering local beers, and if the guy next to you didn’t hear you order it you order it again but louder. You have strong opinions on pirating that nobody agrees with. You are probably a centrist. You have no idea how much I pity you.
Luka Doncic - There are two types of Luka fans, the hollow, soulless Mavs fan who physically cannot talk about his team without saying the phrase ‘We just need to get Luka some help’, and the 16 year old jerker who’s brain instinctively goes ‘Luka Doncic is Devin Booker father’ the second they see his name. Both are equally hard to talk to, but at least the Mavs fan has an excuse for their suicidal demeanour. The jerker is barely even a human at this point, a bag of flesh that surrounds an endless stream of catchphrases and recycled memes. Luka Doncic is Devin Booker father. If you laughed at that for the second time, seek therapy or employment.
Jayson Tatum - Bro I am NOT GAY, I promise but IF I was, IF bro, IF I was then of course I would have sweaty man sex with Jayson Tatum, he’s just cute bro it’s not gay to say that bro it isn’t I swear. What? Tatum’s game isn’t good enough to justify the lengths I’ll go to defend him? He’s not really all that and I only love him so much because I think he’s sexually attractive. Nah bro you’re crazy for that one I won’t lie, just because Tatum’s lips are soft like pillows and I like the way his ass jiggles and I wish the NBA would let him play without a shirt on doesn’t make me gay bro you’re crazy for that one.
Zion Williamson - The Great Zion Debate revolves around a single word; ‘if’. IF Zion was to play regularly, he’d probably be top 3 bigs in the league, but guess what? He doesn’t, so he isn't. That should be a very simple thing to understand, but Zion fans love nothing more than to drag everyone into a world full of hypotheticals and make-believe, where anything is possible except Zion’s shitty conditioning being his own fault. Eventually you’ll be spat out of their portal wearing nothing but a lobster bib and a Jose Alvarado jersey, fully believing that it’s AD’s fault that Zion loves food more than he loves his own mother. After all, you can’t say he plays bad if he simply never plays.
Damian Lillard - Oh fuck you’re so cool man, you’re so cool because the player you support is so loyal man, that just makes you so much cooler than everyone else man. Ignore all the times you’ve screamed for him to be traded because the Trail Blazers are a complete poverty franchise, that doesn’t matter because Dame is so loyal and cool man, Dame time baby let’s go! Let’s fucking go! Who cares that the current state of the NBA would be exactly the same if Dame was never drafted and spent his entire life delivering DnD equipment to Portland’s extensive collective of people who couldn’t care less about basketball, he’s so clutch! Ignore all the red flags and hope the Lakers come through with a trade request. You’ll need post-season success more than you think in the years to come.
Chris Paul - When Chris Paul retires without a ring, which is a near guarantee unless Phoenix fix their shit or he begs Denver to take his dog ass for a season, what will you do? You probably gave up on your hopes of a ring around the same time Harden fans did, but man 2021 gave you hope didn’t it? Just for a second you felt what it was like to support a real player, a real man. Not the banana boat enthusiast who choked leads like they were Bart Simpson, but a player who could maybe win something someday. It must have been nice while it lasted. Then, reality set in. To be honest, I don’t really know who I’m talking to with this one. Chris Paul surely doesn’t have any fans left. He barely even has his own family on his side. Ah well, you’ll always have Lob City. And Kim K.
Jimmy Butler - It’s always someone else’s fault isn’t it. Ever since Jimmy realised he could just blame KAT for all the T’wolves failings you’ve carried on that legacy for as long as you can remember. Maybe if Bam plays better against Denver your beloved Jordan surrogate won’t have to be directly outscored by UDFA’s every night. It’s okay though, Jimmy has ‘fundamentals’. You love fundamentals don’t you, they’re that thing you use when you don’t have any actual arguments to say why Jimmy’s better than the perennial MVP candidate you’ve set him up against for no reason. You can whine and cope and say ‘he makes his teammates better’ but if that were true, wouldn’t he have achieved something in Chicago, or with that very promising Minnesota roster? Surely it must be someone else’s fault. Maybe it’s the leagues for hiring referees. Or maybe it’s KAT’s fault again. Who knows.
Kyrie Irving - Kyrie fans are the rare breed of basketball fan that actually play basketball, the problem is that they think they’re him with the handles and the ankle breakers and the and-ones, but in reality they are complete fucking garbage. I will never choose you to play pickup with unless you are the last option and I will never pass you the ball because I don’t want to watch you bounce it off your own thigh for 20 minutes. And dude, can you please stop talking about the Zionist New World Order or whatever the fuck you saw on Twitter last night? I fucking doubt the guy with the MAGA Pepe pfp has links deep in the US government, so forgive me for not believing that they put aphrodisiacs in the tap water so that we spend all our money on babies, just help me guard their sharpshooter or fuck off. And wear some deodorant fucking hell.
Devin Booker - You know, if a player needs All-Star candidates at every other position on the court just to progress to the Conference Finals, chances are that player isn’t very good. This thought does not register in the mind of the Booker fan, who genuinely believes that KD, Chris Paul and Deandre Ayton isn’t enough help. Your greed knows no bounds and will swallow you whole one day, yet in your lust for power you fail to turn inwards. Where was Booker vs the Mavs that one time? Why did he only score 12 points vs the Nuggets this year? Is he stupid? Does he not know he can play well in big games? No, no, clearly the Suns just need to trade Cam Payne and Ayton for Sabonis or AD or some other top 5 big, surely that’s where the problem lies right? Wait, what do you mean salary cap?
Ja Morant - Oh man I feel bad for you. You’re probably a guy who just enjoys basketball as a spectacle, who doesn’t particularly care about winning or losing as long as you get to watch the most entertaining players in the league pull off the most ridiculously flashy plays. Isn’t that what we all want, deep down? Maybe you were raised on a healthy diet of Vince Carter or D Rose, maybe you just think a guy who can jump over another guy for a bucket is neat, whatever the answer is you’re trapped with this fucking idiot who can’t keep himself out of trouble. Now the team you touted as the most exciting in the league is the most hated in the league, and through no fault of your own you look like a fucking idiot. Worse still, the sheen has come off the Grizzlies young core and now people actually expect them to start winning, probably without Ja. Consider suing Instagram before Adam Silver demands Ja be burned at the stake for his transgressions against his fellow players.
Trae Young - Yes, we all remember that New York series. Yes, we all thought Ice Trae was hot shit at the time. But guess what? That was 2 years ago and Trae has shown no signs of progressions since. Still a liability on defence, still a massive ball hog and still ugly as fuck. Just face the facts and admit that without these rivalries you create, be it with New York or Luka or whoever, Trae would be the most forgettable player in the league. Three point specialists are a dime a dozen in the post-Steph era, and there’s nothing to really separate your fave from Dame or Paul George or De’Aaron Fox or any other number of downtown dwellers. Also like dude, come on, he’s so ugly. Have some self respect.
Hi TOMT, I have recently remembered a cartoon shown in my Alberta, Canada school. This was about 5~ years ago. It was a show where a scientist tries to capture a princess and other ushenanigans that unfold in a medieval time? There was a castle and stuff but the scientist had some pretty advanced tech. had a similar low quality vibe to Jimmy Neutron. The show was in french or mostly french and made for kids. One more possibly useful piece of info is that I'm pretty sure my teacher played it off a DVD.
Hopefully one of you guys remembers this and can help me track it down. Thanks.