Repo! The Super Genetic Opera

What? Title for what?!

Hello? HELLO?? Is this damn thing even on? Can you hear me? HELLO?! COUGH Uh… this is uh… Barney Rutherford, of the famous Rutherford family. If you are listening to this recording, that means I’m DEAD! No, I’m not really dead, just old. And if you are listening to this, that means that I finally got this damn thing to work – provided it wasn’t made by some China-kid or Mexican.

So that cutie Melanie Pipper has some hot shot (Mr. Ari Gold) from Tinsel Town giving her a bunch of free shit all the time I suppose. He told us that we could all fly out to San Diego for some convention called Commie-con. WHAT?! COMMIES?! I would have no such part in that red propaganda. Somehow they others convinced me to go anyway, so I figured I could at least knock a few heads together.

It was an eventful trip there. My “companions” ended up making some trouble with the law, which is fine by me because, you know, the Rutherfords don’t take kindly to the police, or anyone else for that matter. Long story short, we cracked a few skulls and finally ended up in California.

Now, on entering the convention center, I went straight into hunt mode. However, I was taken aback by how the commies dress these days. What a bunch of freaks. How can they expect anyone to take them seriously running around in capes and reading comic books? HA! I don’t know what’s wrong with this younger generation. I figured there’s no point in trying to talk so sense into them so after meandering about all day, picking my butt, I went to the bar for some drinks. After a few rounds, I started to watch the bartender. There was something not quite right about him. That’s was it! He was using powers to cool the drinks! That commie bastard was using powers right in the open… well I guess we were doing the same all these days, but not at a place of work where anyone could find him! I confronted the guy, and attempted to apprehend the suspect. His inferior skill was no match for mine! I held him there for 15 straight hours. FIFTEEN! The bastard was hard to break, but eventually I had to go relieve myself and he got away under the watch of Melanie and Alejandro de Ortega. I guess he agreed to go with us to the dealer, so it was all fine I suppose.

That night we went back to our hotel. I was ready already sick of this place, and I got to bed late, around 7 PM. But shortly after I fell asleep, I heard noises in the main room of our suite. It was Kenny Powerz with a bunch of hookers! Hot damn! Nothing like a beautiful broad to get this old man’s blood flowin’! There was booze, and smokes, and some funny negro guy next door. We partied all night, til about 10 PM when I fell asleep with a hooker on top of me.

I woke up the next day, and the negro man, who said his name was LeVar Burton said that he would come back to Century City with us. We were to meet that mutant bartender from the other night at the dealer’s place. We arrived at our destination only to find that he had ratted us and the dealer out to the Mutant Task Force! That commie bastard! I gave ‘em all the ol’ one-two, just like I did in ’Nam, end of story.

Now, my memory’s a little fuzzy mind you, so don’t take everything I say word-for-word, but it’s the truth! So long, shit lords! Barney Rutherford, out! Is it off now? Is it off now?? What’s that blinking light mean? Here, you take it before I shove my boot up your ass Olivia Khloasov, you filthy commie. Or I’ll make you look at naked pictures of Ali Babba Sihng!!! Uh, don’t ask why I have those.



I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.