The Golden Axe Resource, Death Adder's Castle

Ask the Death Adder

7.31.2001

Dear Death Adder,

Throughout my existence spanning many centuries, I've become a respected and feared overlord in the nether regions of Transylvania. I have a large castle filled to the brim with loyal monstrous minions, and several deadly generals including Medusa, the Mummy, Death, and Frankenstein's monster. I can animate the dead at will and own a world-wide chain of hypnotic coffee shops. No mere mortal would dare face me. Kittens die at my feet.  Happy puppies run away whining with their tails between their legs. I even made Barney the Dinosaur cry on three separate occasions. I am the ultimate evil, the end all and be all of the darkness that lies beneath humanity. 

Now the kicker:  There's a whole lineage of whip-toting jerk-offs who think they can destroy me. Every century a new one comes walking into my castle, making a commotion, ruining my carpets, and whipping me incessantly until I decide to play dead for a few years. This often puts a damper on my plans for world domination. To top things off, they've even convinced my own son to attack me! I've tried everything from kidnapping their girlfriends to flipping the entire castle upside down, but nothing seems to stop these self proclaimed heroes. Any suggestions? 

I also believe my butler, Renon, is gay. How should one deal with this? 

Signed,

Dracula Vlad Tepes

Dear Dracula Vlad Tepes,

You think YOU are going to dominate the world?  Have you read my web page lately?  There's going to be only one evil overlord on this ball of rock, and I can guarantee that you will not be it; especially with the problems you have been having.  Sheesh. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.30.2001

Dear Death Adder,

At an auction last week, I bought a shriveled-up monkey's paw with only three fingers remaining.  My son insisted it could give  us our fondest wishes.  So I tested it and he was right.  First it gave me ten million dollars in gold, then a fabulous lakeside mansion.  With that last wish, I want to do something that will effect the whole world and am unsure which choice to make.  Either I want to add my face to Mount Rushmore or I want to become a 500-foot tall man-beast and crush everything I see into ruin. 

Which should I choose?

Sincerely,

Wishful Walter

Dear Wishful Walter,

I have to admit, option #2 really appeals to me.  However, you should know this:  It was wrong of you to use the wishes in this paw.  You can never truly appreciate a prize unless you seize it by cunning and force.  By using this 'magic paw' to gain your riches without sacrifice, you will never derive any real satisfaction from them.  As your son was the one who convinced you to use this paw, I suggest you use your third wish to banish him to a region of the Nether Worlds. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.25.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I am a secret member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and have been entrusted with the launch codes for all of America's nuclear missiles. Just yesterday, a man from "a secret branch of the CIA" called and said that "President What's-his-name" said I was supposed to give the codes to him.  It seemed a little fishy so I hung up.  The man called back and told me my new secret password was "Poughkeepsie."  Then he called back a third time and whispered over and over again, "Poughkeepsie, Poughkeepsie."  By this time I was pretty mad!  What hadn't my superior's notified me about the change of password?  I quickly passed all my secret information over the phone (including the 'pin' number of my cash card).  

How should I confront my superiors over this, Death Adder.  They are high-ranking and aren't used to being challenged on authority. 

Sincerely,

Deep Blue

Dear Deep Blue,

Sometimes the lines of communication break down.  It's your superiors' responsibility to keep them open, not yours.  If they don't have the common courtesy to notify you of a procedure change, then you shouldn't even give them the time of day.  Just keep quiet about this and continue to follow your orders.  You're doing a fine job. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.24.2001

Dear Death Adder,

Each night I dream I'm transported back in time to Bedrock, the home of Fred Flintstone.  The dreams are quite detailed--I can really taste the Brontosaurus meat!  In their world, I repair the turtle/lawnmowers they use to cut grass and am a member of the Royal Order of Waterbuffalos.  My problem is that I am secretly having an affair with Betty Rubble and think Barney is starting to suspect something.  I'm afraid what will happen when Bamm-Bamm finds out.  My real-world wife is also giving me strange looks because I now walk around shoeless wearing a leopard-print tunic.  Any advice for the love-lost and forlorn? 

Sincerely,

Joe Granite

Dear Joe Granite,

The problem here is that you are splitting time between your dream and awake worlds.  You need to devote more time to one in order to patch things up.  Frankly, you have many more issues in your dream world, so you should focus on that.  To spend more time there, you'll need to take sleeping pills, a lot of them.  I recommend 50-60 at once.  Good luck, Romeo.

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.23.2001

Dear Death Adder,

My son is 16 years old and the leader of an anti-smoking organization sponsored by his school.  I am a smoker myself and have been for years.  He wants me to quit because he thinks I'm slowly killing myself.  What he doesn't understand is I'm TRYING to kill myself.  I can no longer stand his incessant nagging (or his mother's) and would love to have my death on his conscience.  Sometimes I'll smoke five or six cigarettes at once, just to speed up the process.  My cough and smell are so disgustingly horrible, they send old women and children into crying fits, but I'm not dead yet.  I have enough nicotine patches covering my body to be covered by a government tobacco subsidy.  What can I do to help this along? 

Sincerely,

Marlboro Man

Dear Marlboro Man,

You have an admirable goal, but are going about it the wrong way.  If you die from tobacco-related illness, that will only justify your son's feelings.  Instead, tell your family that you are accepting their wishes and renounce cigarettes for good.  They will be overjoyed.  Then, a couple days after quitting, force your own heart attack death with pills, injections, whatever.  Bribe a doctor ahead of time to do the autopsy and announce that your sudden withdrawal from tobacco caused a massive coronary.  The grief and shame your family feels will last a lifetime.  Guilt is a powerful motivator, and may even cause your own son to take up cigarettes himself. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.20.2001

Dear Death Adder,

Last week I went on a blind date with a guy that I think I could really like.  Roger is handsome and rich and funny, funny, funny!  He is a telemarketer, though, so that's one strike against him.  And he has a mustache, so that would need to go before we dated again. 

But my real problem is that my conjoined twin, Shirley, doesn't like him. We're joined at the midsection and it's causing real havoc in the relationship.  For instance, Roger's car is so small, Shirley has to ride with her face and arms out the window.  And she's also allergic to his cologne--which gives both of us hives.  And during our passionate moments, Roger's elbow keeps jabbing her in the face.  What can I do to have both a happy sister and passionate relationships? 

Sincerely,

Doubled Dolly

Dear Doubled Dolly,

Something is wrong here.  I sense that Roger is trying to send you a message.  By wearing allergenic cologne and smacking your sister around, he is carefully laying the groundwork for a breakup of your short-lived romance.  The question is, what have you done to warrant this?  Do you smell bad?  Dress poorly?  Refuse to clip your toenails?  I see that you have a tendency to run at the mouth, perhaps this is what is driving Roger away.  The answers lie within, and you are the one who must find them.  Ask Shirley too, she might have some suggestions. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.19.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I have two close friends.  One of these men, we'll call him Matticus, is clearly the weakest member of our group.  He lacks both brains and brawn, and was the last of us three to "score" with a woman.  Every month or so, my friends and I like to get together for a game of Monopoly.  Matticus, despite being a worse player, tends to win by default because my other friend, Phillip, and I drive each other to bankruptcy.  What I'm looking for here is a way to crush both Matticus and Phillip (and their small empires on Baltic Avenue).  Plus I would like to see them cry. 

Did I mention Matticus was the last to "score"?  And he thinks he's a man?!? 

Sincerely,

Parker Brother

Dear Parker Brother,

You say Matticus lacks brains, yet somehow he manages to always best you in your monthly matches.  Your assessment of him is clearly faulty.  We can therefore safely assume that your account of when he "scored" is also incorrect.  In fact, I would say there is a strong possibility that he indeed "scored" first, and that you, my friend, were the last.  That would explain your reluctance to face him directly in your game; because you know he has already bested you in one arena and would do so in another if you ever had the temerity to challenge him.  So instead you focus on the other player and write off M's inevitable victory as a "default."  If I were capable of it, I would feel pity for you.  But I am not, so instead I feel only contempt. 

You Suck,

The Death Adder

7.18.2001

Dear Death Adder,

There's a guy at work who likes to use his cell phone while he's in the bathroom.  He will sit in a stall for over 30 minutes at a time yakking away with friends, setting up interviews, even arguing over his long-distance bill with the phone company.  Now Death Adder, I'm a man who needs a little quiet and solitude while I answer nature's call, so this really bothers me.  How am I supposed to carry out my business while he's doing his own business right next to me?  Any ideas? 

Sincerely,

Bathroom Break

Dear Bathroom Break,

What I see here is not a problem about breaking bathroom etiquette, but rather a problem with your uncontrollable jealousy.  In this man you see everything you want to be: popular, decisive, a man other men count on.  Though you are none of these things, all is not lost.  I suggest buying a cellular phone (at the very least buy one of those toy cellular phones filled with candy) and practice talking while on the toilet at home.  Picture yourself as a powerful New York attorney hiding evidence so your opponents get the death penalty no matter what the crime.  It's all about visualizing and then becoming.

One more word of advice: If you drop the phone into the toilet, just let it go.  Trust me, it's gone.

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.17.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I am allergic to peanuts.  Peanuts!

Sincerely,

Anti-Peanuts

Dear Anti-Peanuts,

That's nice to know, but this an advice column, not a place to recite obvious facts.  So in the future please explain your situation and explain why this poses a problem to you.  Or else you may one day awaken to find yourself drowning in peanuts. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.16.2001

Dear Death Adder,

As a werewolf, I am often stereotyped as a wild, out-of-control animal, which I can assure you I am not.  While many of my werewolf brothers do enjoy pulling the limbs off sheep, I would prefer a night at home playing Minesweeper on my computer.  My problem is that I am currently in love with a village girl with lovely red hair.  I want to marry her someday, but know its just a matter of time before I wake up some morning with her blood dripping from my claws.  To add to this, I think I'm also getting Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from all my internet playing.  What should I do? 

Sincerely,

Wolfman Jack

Dear Wolfman Jack,

Why put off the inevitable?  Put an end to your misery and devour that girl now, before you get even more attached to her.  That way she'll always be a part of you.  As for your sore wrists, leather braces should help you out.  I prefer those made from cows but have been told that human leather works just as well. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.13.2001

Dear Death Adder,

After 30 years, my friends and I returned to the small town where we grew up.  As children, a horrible, blood-thirsty clown that lived in the sewers used to torment us and kill our friends.  We've heard that the killings have started again and have returned to the fears of our youth to confront him. Since many of us are now attorneys, we've decided to serve him both restraining orders and have him tried on hate-crime legislation (because Johnny's grandmother was 1/8 Mexican).  We would like you to serve as a witness, as you are an expert on terrorizing children.  Are you free in the month of October? 

Sincerely,

Attorney Andi

Dear Attorney Andi,

No, I'm afraid I won't be there.  I'm an opponent of hate-crime legislation, since it discourages hating.  Don't people understand that hate is what makes the world go around?  Sorry to say this, but I'm throwing my hat in with the clown. 

Sincerely, 

The Death Adder

7.12.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I am a high-profile New York businessman.  I like the finer things in life: fast cars, good food, and beautiful women.  This is my problem.  A lady-friend of mine disappeared shortly after she revealed to the world she was pregnant with my illegitimate baby.  Now the police are targeting me.  I've tried to tell them she isn't dead but living peacefully in the snow globe that sits on my desk, but they don't listen.  How do I explain to them I'm not at fault? 

Sincerely,

Big Business

Dear Big Business,

Obviously you're going to have to open that globe to let them see your girlfriend.  Do this during your next interrogation.  When the detective is grilling you, bash the globe into his forehead to shatter the glass (he has to be very close to see her inside, you see). 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.11.2001

Dear Death Adder,

(I know you are not THE Death Adder because my tutor's tutor was Dora herself and she was there when Gilius drove his Golden Axe into his head, giving his live so that all may live in freedom.) 

I am a bay cob centaur learning to fight as Dora did (staff, magic, hooves) and I was wondering what the surname of the noble Dora  was?  Any help (non sarcastic) help would be greatly appreciated. 

Yours, 

Brock Phillips

Dear Brock,

Traitor.  Witch.  Enemy.  Cow.  Foe.  Loathsome.  Wench. 

Take your pick.  I've given all these names to her at one time or another. 

Sincerely, 

The Death Adder

7.10.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I am a salesman and frequently travel across America by plane.  On my last flight to Denver, the Northwest Airlines receptionist notified me that my bags had been lost in transit.  She said it would be up to two weeks before the bags could be found.  Of course, I was horrified, as I needed a fresh set of clothes for a luncheon later that day, but what could I do?  I gave her my hotel address and told her to call me as soon as the bag was found. 

On my way out of the airport, I noticed two baggage handlers kicking my bag around like a soccer ball.  Another pair were wearing my socks on their hands like puppets.  Another one used the waistband of my underwear like a slingshot to fire pebbles at planes landing on the runway!  When I confronted them, they teased me and tore a hole in my suit coat.  Then security hauled me away and probed me for illegal drugs!  I could barely speak on account of the anger I felt. 

What can I do to make things right?

Sincerely,

Angry Edward

Dear Angry Edward,

I can understand your anger.  So how much did you lose when they strip-searched you?  $20K, maybe upwards of $50K of Colombia's finest?  Yes, I would also be upset if I were you.  Next time you go on one of your 'sales calls' don't get distracted by minor issues like damaged luggage; you need to stay focused on the task at hand. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.09.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I'm a sassy, fast-talkin', mean-walkin' mutha from the Eastside. Man, I go crazy-crazy on these fools who get in MY way!  Word to that.  I say, "You talkin' jive to me?  You disrespectin'?  I'm gonna put the hurt on you, fool!" 

Anyways, I need me a street-name that blends my hip-hop livin' with my gang-bang bangin'.  Man, gitchie-gitche-ya-ya.  How 'bout some?  How 'bout some?!? 

Know what I'm sayin',

Johnny StreetWise

Dear Johnny StreetWise,

You know, people like you give me all the justification I need to take over the world. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.06.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I brought my six-week-old son to the grocery store with me today.  At some point I set him down and he must have wandered off.  Any idea where he is?  My wife will be home soon and she is going to be mad!

Sincerely,

Troubled Tim 

Dear Troubled Tim,

Every grocery store has a toy section filled with cheap, plastic trinkets; I would start my search there.  If that fails, try checking the cleaning supplies.  Janitors frequently store young children there due to the strong absorbing power of their diapers.  Finally, drop by the Girl Scout cookie table near the entrance.  Those girls will use any trick to bring in more customers. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.05.2001

Dear Death Adder,

With Independence Day now one day behind us, we all should take one last moment to remember all the lives that were lost to give us our precious, precious freedom. . .

Now to the point of my letter:  Come mid-August, our town holds its annual book-burning celebration.  We currently use gasoline (and lots of it) to send those demonic words right back to hell.  Our problem is that the mixture of low octane gasoline with certain "smut" reading material like National Geographic and Highlights for Kids, produces a terrible, poisonous gas that taints an otherwise glorious event.  Can you recommend a better incendiary fluid?

Sincerely,

Bonnie Burnbooks

Dear Bonnie Burnbooks,

Low-grade tar, preferably scooped out of ancient swampy areas.  It burns clean and is highly valued for its ability to stay lit for an extended period of time.  When smeared on the end of a piece of wood, it makes an excellent torch.  It's the fuel of choice for bloodthirsty mobs in my area. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.03.2001

Dear Death Adder,

I would like to be a contestant on the hit CBS show Survivor.  My survival skills include knot tying, fire lighting, axe wielding, and a  powerful spell that makes paper cuts heal instantly.  I can also bend balloons into the shapes of animals--mostly simple animals like snakes, worms, and Yeti-like creatures.  My problem is that I am probably too ticklish for any physical challenges that involve feathers or anyone touching my navel.  Do I reveal this on my resume or hide it and take my chances? 

Sincerely,

Hopeful in Huston

Dear Hopeful in Huston,

You should choose to disguise your flaws.  If you play the game the way  it was intended, you won't have to worry about either of those events occurring.  For the life of me, I can't understand why Survivor doesn't look more like the film Gladiator.  Why bother forging 'alliances' against your opponents when you could simply eliminate them?  Now that would make for some good television.  Your axe skill will naturally be your most important talent.  Distract your enemies with the balloons, then strike them down with sharpened steel. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

7.02.2001

Dear Death Adder,

There is a lot of talk these days about the alleged "Moon Landing" of 1969. Cast me in with the folks who believe it was a conspiracy to drum up support for the space program boondoggle that is  costing tax payers millions of dollars.  Add on top of this the  alleged "assassination" of JFK and subsequent cover-up by the FBI, CIA, and Mafia.  The government is filled with secrets in its past, but my main concern is the myth still perpetuated today. 

Each year we send upwards of $4500.00 in aid to a county called "Greenland."  Has anyone ever been there?  Does it even show up on maps or globes?  Not mine.  I suppose next year we'll need to double their aid because of their war with "Beigeland."  What a joke!  How can I make the government come clean on this atrocity of justice? 

Sincerely,

Doubting Thomas

Dear Doubting Thomas,

Dear DT,

As someone who has seen many conspiracies come and go, I can say that many of your opinions are well-founded, and you should definitely investigate further.  Greenland may or may not exist, but if it does, why are you sending them money anyway?  Are these Green people strong and self-sufficient?  If so, they should receive your respect, not your money.  If instead they are so weak they cannot fend for themselves, then they should be left to wither and die like weeds. 

Sincerely,

The Death Adder

 

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