Project Hellbeast swag

12 01 2008

Do you love Project Hellbeast?

Do you think about something you read here for hours?

Do you pour over the content here, desperately searching for valuable information for your impending defamation lawsuit?

Want to know where you can spend your hard earned money for t-shirts with Project Hellbeast motifs printed on them?

Well than search no further. You can now buy your very own Project Hellbeast t-shirt. In fact  you can buy everyone you know one, just in time for (next) Christmas,  I might add. Be the first to own the t-shirt that the government doesn’t want you to have.  Spark controversy with your very presence while wearing this beauty.  Yes increase your personal coolness by +10.   Improve you smelling ability. Lower your overall punctuality.  Everything is possible and nothing is better than an official Project Hellbeast t-shirt.  If you have a loved family member that need a life saving operation and you just have enough money for it, but you also want an official t-shirt as well.  Just buy the t-shirt and owe the hospital a few bucks.  That is what credit is for!

Now go and get yours now. I insist.  What are you waiting for?  A sneak peek of what the design looks like?  ok fine. here.

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see? I told you it was awesome. now go!

HELLBEAST Store

A final note if you have a favorite beast you would like to see on a t-shirt, let me know and I may be able to get close enough to it to get a picture before I am gored to death.  That is all.




Historical Illustration series: Ninjas vs. the Civil War

10 01 2008

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Snow Horse

8 01 2008

Snow Horse

Mili: Can I have a pony, Daddy?

Me: Of course.




Mutant Recovery Squad: Attica, Indiana

7 01 2008

The cosy town of Attica, Indiana might just be the most picturesque small community in the entire part of Midwestern Indiana. Nestled along the Wabash river and adjoining the historic “Dolly Varden Line” railway, Attica is the perfect spot for raising a family, leading a quiet, laid back life, and avoiding all the chaos and noise of city life. What the laconic folks of Attica were not anticipating however was the nearly week long rampage of a malfunctioning mutant, accidentally released in their midst. Fortunately for these gentle folk, we were there.

We are the Mutant Recovery Squad.

7:45pm: We recieved a call from the local law enforcement officials detailing an attack on a carload of high schoolers, and mobilized our Mutant Containment Vehicle- which is pretty much a decomissioned fire truck that shoots gasoline from the hoses. This vehicle has been remarkably effective in containing larger mutants and anything with fur. The downside is that anything combustible in the nearby vicinity usually suffers as well.

8:21 am. We arrive in Attica and eat breakfast at a local cafe. I had eggs over medium, bacon, hash browns, wheat toast dry and a glass of grapefruit juice, which I only drank a few sips of because I decided that I really don’t like grapefruit juice. I tip the waitress $2.33 and we are off. Without knowing exactly what type of mutant we are facing, I check the customer records and the national mutant registry to see if there are any hybrid offenders in the area. There are no records of anyone nearby. The nearest mutant owner is eighty miles away in Indianapolis. Perhaps an examination of the attacked vehicle will provide more clues.

9:53 am. A careful inspection of the 1992 Ford Probe GL reveals that the owner to be an arrogant jackass who is compensating for something. We also noted 3 claw pattern scratches to the exterior of the vehicle. Hair fibers were consistent with that of a Ursus Horribilis. Further DNA analysis would be required to identify the actual genetic markers. The C7 tag on the long chain ribosome should also contain the owners information if it is one of the class G or later models. I bag the hair and send it to the mobile lab for definitive results. I also note that the entire roof of the car was missing (located after a short search in a nearby white oak tree). This was probably the way the mutant gained access to the unsuspecting and delicious teenagers. Mechanical cuts on the frame indicate a rotating metal blade, most likely a chainsaw. From the evidence here, I suspect our culprit is a Reticulated Sawbear.

11:15 am. We take an early lunch. Me: Clubhouse sandwich with turkey, swiss, tomatoes, and fresh spinach, kettle chips and an orange soda. I was actually unable to finish my kettle chips, due to a large barn owl that appears to have been waiting for me to be momentarily distracted so it could swoop down and steal the entire bag from my plate. Owl apparently love kettle chips, who knew? We receive another call from the sheriff. A woman and her two Siberian huskies disappeared on a walk near the country club. We left the restaurant without leaving a tip. (Afterwards, I debated on whether or not to return and give the young lady a few dollars, but concluded that any establishment that isn’t 100% Barn owl free doesn’t deserve a tip).

12:31 pm. Outside the Harrison Hills country Club we find the two dogs completely bisected by a mechanical cutting device, again most likely a chainsaw. No trace of the woman but a Nokia cell phone with dental impressions similar to that of a Grizzly bear seem to confirm my earlier suspicion.

2:08 pm. Missing woman miraculously located at local franchise coffee house, in one piece and downing shot after shot of espresso.  Still in a state of shock we were able to piece together that she was attacked by a large brown creature with a metal arm that had a rotating blade on it– This seems to corroborate our story entirely.  Woman collapses from caffeine poisoning and is taken to local hospital. I order tall nonfat chai tea with soy and the local beatniks nod in approval. I call to assemble the mutant retrieval gear.

3:15 pm. We assemble gear in awesome looking montage and set out to capture our prey.  Several member of the team are attacked and killed.  I manage to corner the beast outside a tool shed that I lock myself into.  Mutant nearly gains access to shed with it’s chainsaw arm until I empty my service weapon, firing wildly into the air.  Venturing outside after the incident, I find that the “mutant” is actually a large calico house cat named Larry.  The animal was struck and killed by one of my carefully fired shots and is deceased.  I make note of strangeness of earlier evidence pointing to a reticualted sawbear and recover body of Larry the cat for the lab.  Case closed.




Great Hero - Crappy name.

1 01 2008

Hey Kids!

Be the first on your block to own the original comic that inspired an entire generation.  Yes it’s  THE CRAPINATOR!   When all the really good hero names were taken- there’s just one man who will take the worst superhero name of them all to fight crime.  Evil may not shudder at the sound of his name but they will shudder when they get punched in the face by iron hand of justice. The Crapinator, armed only with his wits and a mild case of psoriasis,  the Crapinator  has all the charm of a tarantula and the bravery of a garden gnome.  Evil stands only a moderate to fair chance of success!

In the action packed first episode, Crapinator faces a new nemesis, the Imperator.  Will his first adventure be his last?  Buy it and find out.

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Check back for updates on our hero frequently.




Private Jounal entry December 21, 2008

21 12 2007

Dear Private Journal,

Today it seemed like everyone was against me.  I walked into the break room and everyone gave me this icy stare.  I tried to be friendly like I am every day but no one even said hi.  It was so weird.  But that isn’t the half of it.  Mr. Drake, the boss, remember how I was telling you that he is always sweating really bad and starts to smell by the end of the day?  Well he was totally cold to me. I told him I was going to be leaving early because of a dental appointment and he  said I would have to make up the hours.  Nobody ever has to make up hours for medical appointments, and now I do?  What is the deal with that?  Then he said something like  “you’ll be sure to avoid the sweat smell.”  I tried to play it cool but the way he looked at me was like I killed his dog.  I was so uncomfortable.  I went to talk to Betty in accounting (the one with the ugly mole)  and she had her hand covering he face the whole time I was talking to her– like she was hiding the ugly mole.  Jake Ellis took a swing at me when I said hi to him.  John the IT guy locked me out of my computer all day and I couldn’t get any work done.   Jessie, the girl I had a drunken make-out session with last Christmas party,  just broke into tears and ran away.   Chuck (you know Mr. Nosecandy)  was totally arrested by the police for drug possession.  He looked a me and  swore he would get me back.  Why would he say that?   It’s as if someone told these people what I thought about them.  But who knew all this stuff.  I didn’t tell anybody.  How could they know?  I mean,  really only me and you knew all this stuff, and — wait.  You.  You knew… and you told.   ooooh!  HOW COULD YOU!  I trusted you!  You betrayed me you bastard  Agh!  My life is ruined!  I can never trust again!!!    I swear, private journal,  I will get my revenge.  I swear it!

Talk to you tomorrow.

-Steve




Endless commercialism of the Season

19 12 2007

Personally,  I find most commercials objectionable by their very nature.  Their smugness.  Their confidence.  The assumption that they know what is best for me.  Please.  I am no fool.  Don’t believe me?  Check my toenails- they’re filed into razor sharp and if I kick you in the face… game over.  Anyways.  A certain yearly phenomenon occurs in November and into the month of Christmas– I mean, December.  I have a cursory understanding of economics. II understand that most businesses sell more products and make more money during this time than any other time of year.  But still. Come on.  Enough is enough.  Leave it to advertisers to suck the life an joy out of anything that people enjoy. Look at Steve Urkel.  He sucks now.  Please stop with the altered lyrics of favorite holiday songs.  Stop with the assumption that my family’s traditions are like everyone else.   Your family may roast marshmallows in front of a roaring fire, I like to ride an ostrich through town  and whip people with long strands of bull kelp.  Thats just me.  Don’t give me your assumptions. We are different. We don’t like advertising.  Thank you.
All mutants are on sale at Project Hell Beast in time for  Saint Jerry the Incontinent’s  Day!  Order yours now!




Deconstructing thought.

18 12 2007

Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, you are wasting the precious moments of your life?  What are you doing right now?  Reading a blog.  guh.  Look at you there.  All fat and lazy, in your comfortable chair.  Eating large spoonfuls of Dijon mustard.  Oh, I admit, you may have class and sophistication.  You fold your socks twice before diving into an empty swimming pool.  But what are you doing?  How are you working to benefit society.  Or are you just expecting society to come over and toast your bread on both sides.  You expect punctuation marks on every sentence. You expect me to post new and interesting things ever once in a while. Well good for you.  You have corn in your pants.  Nobody expects you to have both your thumbs.   Why, you’re neurologically damaged.   Get a pretzel.  It’s the only thing that keeps the water buffaloes behind the fence.   Who is the president of this district?  Did you think I would talk?  My hand puppets are both named West.  I don’t know how to tell light bulbs apart.   The bath is the only place where I feel safe.  Cheese deserves proper introductions.  Elements of the past are like candy, except without  the metaphor.  The tree frog is a natural survivor, if he was  a dentist, all our problems would be solved.

On a scale of 1 to Banana,  how do you feel?




Project Hellbeast’s Favorite Cookie Recipe

5 12 2007

Theres something about the way the snow blankets the trees, the frosty chill in the air and squirts of blood are easily tracked by ground units that make this time of year my favorite. All the children snuggle down in their beds, hoping, waiting to hear the sound of that nefarious bastard, Winter Claus come scraping up through the coal chutes, ice pick in one hand and trailing his dead leg. (I wounded him, but you know how persistent he can be!) Yes it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

Every year about this time my grandmother would return from the ice floes, reattach her wire whisk cooking arm and make a batch of my favorite recipe. She’s gone now, (spends most of her time at the casinos in Delaware) but we can still enjoy her recipe.

 Death Shard Delights

1 c Flour

1 c Sugar

1/2 c Shortening ( or condensed Bear Fat)

2 tspVanilla

1 swiss pocket watch  (crushed with gear springs removed)

2 Eggs

1 C  Apeshit

8 oz. Cream of Weasel Soup

1 small vial of Iocaine powder  (odorless, tasteless, and dissolves instantly in liquids)

1 C Infected Zombie blood.

Prehead oven to 350.  Combine dry ingredients in a metal mixing bowl  and stir with metal whisk mixing arm.  Mix liquids  in separate bowl and bronze with  brulee torch or flame thrower.   Mix everything together and form into compact disks.  Bake for 12 minutes or until cookies brown.   Remove from oven and attach trip wires before they cool .     Sprinkle with gunpowder or Primacord sprinkles.   Enjoy.




Excerpt from Project Hellbeast’s guide to the Harvest.

19 11 2007

[Excerpt pg. 47]

… important to remember. Prairie dogs and most  ground rodents on the other hand can be handled easily with a LAWS rocket or carefully placed Claymore.

For the really tough to reach fruit in any orchard– especially after an overzealous crowd has picked clean the lower hanging fruits, I recommend this handy apparatus.  They can be found in most public fruit orchards especially during the late growing season into harvest.  Most of the time you can just find them running (sometimes scampering, but not always) in, around, or about the trees.   They are called human cubs, sometimes referred to as “children” or just “a child”. The human cub is a wily creature, often skittish, and usually stays close to a parental figure.  But often enough they get bored and adventurous and go searching for fun. That is when you grab one up.   Tame it with a fierce glare directly into their eyes, then it is just a matter of holding them up high enough and pointing out the fruit you want to select.  These smart little creatures can get all the fruit that the shorter beasts missed. Leaving you the prime and bountiful harvest of the high branches.  Now your only competition for good fruit will be NBA stars, who are very seldom seen in orchards or any type of fruit harvesting areas, so they shouldn’t be much trouble.  In case you do encounter an NBA star, just shout “Look! Somebody set fire to an Escalade!”  that should buy you enough time to escape.

One final note is if you do secure a human cub be sure to work quickly, their mothers are fiercely protective  and can hurl a cell phone with deadly accuracy.   Also due to the high amounts of caffine in their system they are preternaturally strong.   Release the human cub as quickly as possible, to avoid any confrontation.   Enjoy the harvest and remember: An apple a day may keep the doctor away, but fruit juice always attracts the carnivorous wolfbat, so eat carefully and watch the skies!

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