Mr. Clawful Goes to Best Buy

You may remember my affinity for the worst of the worst, bottom-of-the-barrel baddies. Well, sometimes it gets me into trouble.

Over the last several months, because of my admiration for scum and villainy, I've found a handful of henchmen, goons and ne'er-do-wells settling in for extended visits. Usually that just means fighting over the last pack of Cinnamon Brown Sugar Pop Tarts with Serpentor, but every now and then someone steps over the line. I'll catch some rogue snooping through my things, trying to take something that's mine.

Most recently, in fact, I caught a certain criminal crustacean rifling in my wallet. And look at what he managed to slip away with before I could stop him.

I'd managed to hold onto that Best Buy gift-card since Christmas, waiting to find just the right thing to purchase from their fine website. Clawful couldn't have cared less that I had been eying that Criteron release of Repo Man (1984) for months now. No, he just rushed right off to the nearest brick-and-mortar store and spent all twenty-five dollars on the type of trash that even I would have avoided.

Worst of all, he's forcing me to share all his ridiculous purchases with each and every one of you.

I am so very sorry.

Yes, I know exactly what you're thinking. I felt the exact same way, and I had the exact same thought; why would Clawful purchase candy from the last-remaining electronics retailer in the known multiverse?

Because Skeletor was right all these years. This lobster is the most bumbling of buffoons!

Credit where it's due, though. If he was gonna waste a couple bucks on Pez, he certainly picked the best one they had. Ignoring those little yellow bastards from the Despicable Me films and a horrid-looking Thor, Clawful wrapped his oversized pincher around Yoshi and refused to let go.

I had to question his logic in picking up a pack of Star Wars Galaxy Series 7 trading cards. At a whopping three-dollars for a measly seven cards, I just didn't understand the appeal. His only response was mostly incoherent babbling about how Darth Maul reminded him of his mother.

The crab's got issues.

Eventually, I was able to tear him away from the impulse items. It took a little nudging, but we finally headed over to Best Buy's mediocre selection of DVDs to pick out a few films to enjoy. It was more of a challenge finding movies that we both agreed on, however. He insisted on picking up a copy of Rodney Dangerfield's classic comedy, Back to School (1986), until I reminded him that we already have it on VHS.

Which lead to a lengthy debate on whether or not VHS is an obsolete media; the details of which I will thankfully spare you.

A compromise had to be made before he would settle on the first of our two titles.

I haven't seen Galaxy Quest (1999) since it was first released on video. Back during my days as a lowly clerk at my local mom n' pop rental store, Video Showplace. It's a film I've been wanting to revisit for quite some time now, especially since it seems to have developed a solid cult-following these last several years.

Clawful agreed to adding it to his basket, but only if he could have some friends over to watch it. I wasn't in a position to deny his request, especially when he mentioned my favorite Silverhawks' rogue, Buzz-Saw, would be attending.

I was less enthusiastic upon discovering that the X-Men's infamous foe, Apocalypse, would also be there. The guy's developed a total diva attitude since it was announced he was gonna be in the next installment of First Class.

For whatever reason, Clawful is a huge fan of James Bond, and we found ourselves once more at odds. I've never particularly cared for the exploits of 007, regardless of who is portraying him, and attempted to veto any selection featuring the famed secret-agent. And yet.

And yet somehow this monstrosity, a psychedelic "spoof" featuring Peter Sellers as Sir James Bond 007, managed to find its way home along with us. The only plus to this purchase was that it also caused dissension within the villainous ranks of Clawful's best buds.

Clawful's snack selection also managed to brew up some turmoil.

Apocalypse spotted those Flipz covered in Mutant Milk Chocolate and immediately claimed them as his own. Spouting off some nonsense about "survival of the fittest", he proclaimed that no filthy flatscans would touch his most prized of pretzels without incurring the wrath of En Sabah Nur.

Whoever the fuck that is.

Thankfully there was something for us mere mortals, though you might mistake it at first glimpse for something akin to ambrosia. I know nothing about Bigs brand sunflower-seeds, but I sure as fuck know a thing or two about Vlasic pickles. Combining my eighth or ninth favorite snack with Dill Pickles is a thing of absolute bliss and majesty.

Clawful did okay with this one.

And then, of course, his true colors shine through. Reminding us all that he is the most selfish shellfish this side of Eternia, the bastard refused to share any of his Layer Dip Tortilla Combos. Friend or foe, it didn't appear to matter as this third-rate goon managed to down the entire bag before anyone could protest.

I'm not entirely sure how he maintains the physique of Hercules or He-Man with his eating habits. I smell something most foul, and it isn't his buddy Stinkor hanging out in Snake Mountain. My best guess is some of Evil-Lyn's black magic is keeping him in tip-top shape. That stuff's worse than steroids, man.

Wait, is that Grand Moff Tarkin..?

I take back every awful thing I've ever said about that lobster-man. He is obviously doing everything right, and they should change his name to Clawesome.

Here's to you, Clawesome!