The Marx Brothers: who does the real work?

Hello mates, as you may have noticed (and if you haven’t then either you can’t read this text or you very recently got glasses) there has been a change on the throne of Mt. Marx. Mfsoccer94 willingly accepted the very tough, backbreaking, headache giving, coma inducing, and [insert bad thing here]ing task of becoming the clan captain of Marx brothers. The former clan captain, Gaston, gladly stepped down after months of torture. This is what he looked like during his reign as captain.

Miserable, wasn’t he? Anyways, as mfs took his seat in the throne, MB land surprisingly did not go into chaos! It actually prospered. Mfs told all members he loved them and then he gave us cookies. All of us folk with no rank went to the beach and met a group of 28 nineteen year old Swedish beauties. Life could not be better. The following day we all went our separate ways, back to our homes; mfs was nice enough to get me a plane to Antarctica!

Back at home, I snuggled into my special sleeping spot and began to doze off. But before I drifted away in sleep, I began wondering how the clan was prospering so well since us common members did absolutely nothing for the clan! As I am always curious, (they call me curious george duke) I woke up early in the morning and slipped into the ocean, on my way to find mfs.

He was not hard to find, as one night I had surgically implanted one of the most high tech tracking systems (a sock of lenar) into his body. The sock instantly wiped out his sense of smell so he never noticed. The scent was smell-able from however far Antarctica is from where mfs lurked (yes, now you know that the world does not smell from pollution or garbage, but socks). As my long swim concluded, I found myself on familiar ground, the huge icy island of Greenland. I tracked him to a small hut in the exact geographic center of the island. Inside the house was dimly lit. I peeked through a window. In awe, I saw how mfs had managed to keep the clan working without the labor of the members. It suddenly made since why Sipwell and Christine had dashed from the co-captaincy as soon as mfs took the throne.

Inside I saw the two current co-captains, jimmykilcoo and fcrathnaconeen, chained to cold metal chairs. They were balling their eyes out due to mfs’ very original and uncommon weapon.

Yes, mfs was using an onion, actually called a gas onion. The poor co captains wished that they had no senses, as they felt very hot fire, smelled lenar’s sock, saw nothing because their face was filled with tears, heard a very high pitched sound coming from mfs mouth (I think he was trying to use sonar, he does seem to be fascinated with bats), and tasted nothing really (except defeat but that sounds cheesy). It was all I could do to keep my head peeking through that window, as I too smelled the stench of lenar’s sock. After ten minutes of this, Jimmy shouted “OK, we give in!” and fc nodded in agreement. Mfs smiled, and snapped his fingers.

Out of the ground laptops popped out on metal stands, completely cornering the unfortunate co-captains. Their hands were unbound and they immediately got to work on the tough task of managing the Marx Brothers. They did not stop. My head stayed perched on that window for 21 hours and they continuously worked. Worked and worked to keep the Marx Empire clean and shiny. When they fell asleep they were shocked awake. When they got hungry they were fed onions. This (apart from seeing sipwell dance) was the most miserable time of my life. Fc often cried for help on the Marx Brothers clan forum, but his cries were ignored as mfs continuously told us that he loved us and that we can do whatever we want. We simply figured the two co-captains had gone mad (as all of our co-captains have been mad). Whenever a MB member began believing these cries for help, he would just post this image:

..which made us all say, “look! A bunny with a pancake on its head! Anyways, as I was merely an evil penguin who hated the smell of lenar’s socks, all I could do to help them was to swim back home, boot up my coffee-puter and make this post.

So Marx brothers members, will you help me put down this evil Captain. Will you help me save our beloved co-captains from this onion torture! I FOR ONE, WILL NOT –

Ooohhhhh a bunny with a pancake on its head!