By: Daniel Kendle

They got him, of course.

“Got him” being a simplified term, (“They” as well, I suppose). It didn’t take long after Mr. Whatshisname first deserted his home in pursuit of the Rocky Mountains when, his destination only a mere hundred miles due East, the poor sap was apprehended by the horde of villains. Villains of articles he’d once written, now alive in a strange fantasy world the author somehow also lived in himself.

But that’s a discussion for a different day. What mattered was that the elusive mink that was Mr. Whatshisname had been caught by the metaphorical serpent of the villain catalogue. Predator and prey had finally convened on one another as the rival factions fought in a brief standoff outside of the Colorado border. The quarrel ended as quickly as it began, the sole high schooler faring little chance against the crew of gods, demons, and bears. 

In a sense, this event marked a lyrical end to Mr. Whatshisname and his articles, depicting the metaphorical point at which articles from him ceased; his creative abilities constricted as a result of his apprehension via the aforementioned evils. News and radio stations dry of any more interesting stories (heck, any stories period) would report on the matter and cement Mr. Whatshisname’s imprisonment as a doorway to his inevitable death, murdered at the hands of foes seeking vengeance for their past mistreatment in his written stories. 

That’s not what happened. Because Mr. Whatshisname lived.

Secured in a strange, artificial pod, his body, injected with a myriad of untested drugs and prescriptions, fell limp to the hands of his new captors. He was kept in the cryogenic chamber in order to remain alive, exposure to the outside world and its horrors being fatal for his frail physique. There, the experiments began.

Serum-8008 was the main point of research throughout the villain’s testing. They’d partnered with a pharmaceutical company prior to the reviewer’s capture, aiming to explore the prescription’s possibilities in the pursuit of lengthening the human lifespan. While a noble effort for a rag-tag team of maniacal marauders, the experiments ultimately ended with an alternative outcome, one that both aided and discarded its aim of extended life.

After his body accepted the serum, strange things began happening to Mr. Whatshisname. Despite his comatose state, recurring uncontrollable bodily functions were exhibited by him: defecation, vomiting of blood, rapid secretion of mucus, the like. These symptoms, however strange and grotesque they may be, were all in mere anticipation of what was to come. 

Serum-8008’s true consequence, revealed: rapid acceleration of evolution. What physical features may have taken humanity millions of years to develop were formed by him in mere weeks. In his chamber, now covered in viscous liquid from top to bottom, his bones, flesh and skin writhed in confused madness, Mr. Whatshisname undergoing levels of pain incomparable to anything else on Earth.

This continued for days, weeks, months…it turned out that the vaccine had extended his life, though to a degree even its researchers had never thought possible. Eventually, 2.2 billion years after his first injection — Mr. Whatshisname’s constant metamorphosis capsized.

Fig. 1: A diagram comparing 2 hypothesized skulls of Subject M. Whatshisname throughout his constant evolution. The leftmost diagram is dated around the time experimentation on him first began.

His form at this point was, as one would expect, completely-foreign to when he’d originally started. Once a sprite young high-school graduate, his being had progressed — or as some would assert, regressed — into an animalistic mass. His gait was now more or less akin to a large, elephantine gazelle, his knuckles and toes transformed into hoof-like appendages. Dubbed a “false ungulate,” his brain had become stunted long ago, his existence now filled with the eating of grass and leaves, as well as evading natural predators on a now alien Earth.

Mr. Whatshisname’s saga ends here along with JOYSTiCK Reviews. His story finishes with not so much a triumphant roar but a whimper. The reviewer had lived long, lived hard, yes — but in the end, was it really so different from death?

. . . . .

I relay all of this information to you for a couple of reasons. Firstly, my thesis paper requires examination of a past historical figure, so that part’s obvious. But there is another purpose for this story.

As I write this sentence, the year is 2,040,497,300 A.D. Humans, a now-extinct species whose descendants have since transformed into others, are an, at best, sparsely-researched topic of historians. My tendrils clutch at the thought of my ancestors’ legacies being forgotten, thus leading me to explore Homo sapiens sapiens for my university final exam.

Every single article written by Mr. Whatshisname — whose real name and surname remain unknown — has been included as sources in this project. Every single one you’ve read has been transcribed by me, reformatted by me, and synthesized onto the website you’re currently using. He is dead. His legacy is now mine to share, of which I have been doing for the last 3.5 years.

But why do I do this? That question I have yet to answer. It’s simple: despite their lack of importance in society today, humans fascinate me. Their societies, their cultures, everything surrounding them and their ancient creations is astounding. I can only imagine the average person looking around at their world with all of their creations, feeling a sense of pride out of how far their species had come.

And yet, they’ve become forgotten. Mere echoes of dynasties long past their prime. That…saddens me. But unfortunately, that’s the reality we live in: time will always outpace, outrun you…and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So that’s why I leave you with this, reader: Live long. Live right. Live a life full of love, happiness, kindness, and beauty. Live a life packed with experiences, with memories, and the friends and family you find along the way.

Whether it be planets, galaxies, or even universes that separate us, know that someone out there cares about you. Your existence, whether spent subjugated to imprisonment or writing about ancient races, matters.

Finally, if any long-dead humans are somehow reading this…

…thanks for everything.

Sincerely,

Banacus Grox of the Wustar Galaxy Alliance Z

University of Vordulla

By: Daniel Kendle

What’s going on fellas, it’s me — Mr. Whatshisname. Welcome back to JOYSTiCK Reviews, where for once in this series’s nearly 4-year run, nothing bad is happening today! Usually I begin episodes talking about how I’m in the middle of a nuclear fallout zone, have succumbed to a gambling addiction, or am locked in a Siberian prison cell, and so on. But no: here I am sitting at home, talking to you on my couch.

This unexpected serenity I’ve found myself in truly feels like an event horizon for this serial: out with the stupid opening gags and stories, in with, uh…reviewing stuff. Whouda’ thunk it, right? (Sighs) I suppose all that’s left to do is sit back, relax, and-!

What the-?! What the heck was that? My weekly brick throwing guy only shatters my windows on Fridays!

Oh? Looks like Steven (I call him Steven, we’re close like that) isn’t the culprit anyway; this brick isn’t the kind I usually order for. It’s very peculiar-looking: wires on the sides, a ticking clock on the front, and-! Hey, there’s a note on the bottom of it.

*Ahem*

“Dear Mr. Whatshisname,

I hope this letter finds you well. If you’re reading this, you should know that this was an assasination attempt, ordered on you by an anonymous subject and carried out by renowned wildlife poacher assassin Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer II.

Of course, given that you’re reading this message, this means that said plot failed. We apologize for our unprofessionalism, and plan on making it up to you in the near future.

Sincerely,

The Assassin’s Caravan for Righteous and Overt Neutralization of Young Masses (A.C.R.O.N.Y.M)

You’re joking! I was just reading an article written by Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer II the other day about giant lizards. I thought he was just a British wildlife expeditionary, not a murderer!

(Sighs) I guess there’s only 1 best step to take next: I’ve gotta get out of here! Sorry guys, no ‘League of Legends’ review today. Phew.

Sorry to cut this article short, but I’ve gotta run! Thanks for reading, I guess, and I’ll see you guys in a couple weeks when I’ve staked out a camp in the Rockies. See you lat-!

[Chk-ZRRT!]

---

“…and that’s where it ends.”

The quartet sat silent in front of the television. Flashes of static crept behind them and their shadows, the white of the screen illuminating the office’s dusty desks and chairs. Eyes remained peeled to the screen, as if the finished tape was merely a trick. A thin, wispy shadow waltzed over the screen to the VHS player, reuniting with a pale, bony hand.

“Hmph. Great going, Fred,” Kermit huffed. “A clean, open shot through an unobstructed window, and you still miss.”

“I told you, it wasn’t my fault!” Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer cried. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to defend himself during this meeting, nor would it be his last. “Someone nabbed my rifle on the subway, so when I got to his house I had to-!”

“‘And you had to throw a brick at him. Right, great. Wonderful, even.” The tape juggled between Mike Rosoph’s hands as he readied a cleaning wipe.

Kermit continued muttering even as Frederick sank down into his seat, regressed to a fugue state while he watched Mike scrub and dry his evidence. A murmur spread like a thin mist throughout the room, villains slowly revealing their thoughts on the blunder in private conversations. Annoyed by this disorderly chattering, Mike tossed the tape onto a cushioned chair and clasped his hands together.

“People, we’ve talked about this already! Bickering about another failed attempt doesn’t put aside that fact that Mr. Whatshisname is still alive.” 

The chorus of whispers softened. Frederick rose in his seat slightly.

“We’re all leaves of the same branch, see: villains created and written about in his past articles. Why, we’re probably being written about right now, actually! This meeting was created for a single purpose: to kill our creator. To kill our mortal god.”

“I believe the CEO’s right,” the Cocomelon Demon said. He stood up from his seat, all eyes turning to meet his confident gaze. “What’s the point in us bickering if we’re all part of a united cause?”

An awkward silence followed. If a lass was given a nickel for each fidgeting digit in the room, she could buy herself a candy bar. After a minute or so, Mike Rosoph regained his composure and cleared his throat.

“Mr. Yeast, Communist automobile manufacturer from ‘How to Become Extremely Wealthy and Powerful in Just a Few Easy Steps.’ 

Hearing his name, Mr. Yeast blushed and smiled shyly. The other villains looked at him and Mike in confusion.

“Samuel Sand, divorced asylumist from ‘Top 5 Genius Uses for a Jar of Sand.’

“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled.

“Kermit the Frog and the Replicadomon, abyssal assailants from ‘The Ballad of Fozzie Bear’ and its sequel.

The pair snickered, the former-mentioned patting the other’s hide. Seeing their positive reception, the CEO continued his monologue quicker.

“Dracula from ‘The Bloodbacks.’ Cocomelon Demon from the 11th episode of ‘JOYSTiCK Reviews.’ Army of disgraced bears from ‘Ranking Every Species of Bear from Worst to Best.’”

A terse uproar of growls and snorts came from the small battalion of bears, clustered in the far back corner. At this, Mr. Yeast quietly grimaced in disgust.

“Frederick Von Franchisesequelheimer, world-famous wildlife poacher – and human murderer – from ‘Ranking Kaiju Designs.’ I, Mike Rosoph, CEO of Microsoft from the creative writing piece ‘“X,”’ say all of your names for this reason: you’re all villains. Evil, conniving, wicked: such are the terms that’ve been used by Mr. Whatshisname to describe each of your appearances. This man, this narcissistic, inhuman wretch, must pay for his sins against us. Payment…in blood.”

Burning ardor inflamed the small crowd, a wildfire-like mass of man and beast alike. Such resolve soon became an echoing chant, the room filling with the sound of a fledgling ember maturing and developing into a tyrannical song. The tune in question?

‘How You Remind Me’ by Nickelback. The most villainous song of all.