This interview was conducted on Tuesday.
Maxeem: Hello. This is Maxeem for Champions of Eternity, and I'm here with Illumibody-slam, the newest contender in the Tournament. Hello, sir, what can you tell us about yourself and why you're joining the fray?
Illumibody-slam: Hail Satan! This is a challenge from Illumibody-slam, the leader of the Illuminati. You might think that I am named after my secret organization, but you'd be wrong. It's the other way around. That's right, I'm 900 years old. What of it? The great Master Yabulah, Lord of Lies is my puppet, and I told him to make me immortal. So here I am, unbeatable.
M: So, IBS. Can I call you that?
M: What exactly attracted you to this arena? Why do you look so angry?
IBS: I've decided it's time for a change around here. I've run this damn thing for 228 years, and I've had it up to here with the boy scouts and the hippie ceremonies. I don't care if your Skull Club is eating a baby, if you're doing it in a cloak in the forest, and winking at each other, you're a bunch of goddamn absurd two-bit goons.
M: Now, there have been rumors - I won't say where - that you've been gunning up the space program to excuse your work on a fake alien invasion in 2012 to unite the world in fear and accept New World Order's microchip implants. Is there any truth to that?
IBS: That's a damned lie! I never planned any of that crap; the whole thing got away from me when the greys landed in '54 and took over the damn thing. When I find out who said I started the real alien s--t -- anyway, it was never my plan. I'm just sick of all this p-ssy-footing around. I want some meat!
M: So you're essentially saying that you're abandoning your loyal following? All to get some fighting action? Hasn't orchestrating every war since Napoleon been enough bloodshed for you?
IBS: No. No, I don't care that my Catholics and Zionists and Freemasons and Rotaries and Orders of Unicorns or what-have-you have been preserving my codes and ceremonies for a millenia. I'm done with it. War? Bulls--t! You think the reptillians need help feasting on humanity? I don't care how many 'brotherhood' genes they've put in you, you're next down their gullets, dummy! Get over yourselves. Go home to your sad wives and young male lovers. It's over. Now I have something to say!
[At this point, the microphone was rudely grabbed away from me and we had to cut out the program, but he managed to spout this.]
IBS: I don't need any of that s--t, anymore. Secrecy is the coward wave of the past. F-ck that cabalistic owl-c--t worshipping s--t! I'm takin' the world on, right here, right now. So what is it then? Where are you, Gaia? It's time to get bizay. You think you can take me with your bulls--t New Agers and Orgonite energy boxes? LET'S GO! I'LL SEE YOU IN THE RING!
Labels: FIGHTER PROFILES