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Dr. Doom Attends the Gathering of the Juggalos [Humor]

Editor’s Note: The following is presented as part of a partnership with the Latverian Daily Inquisitor, in which it originally ran. The views presented below are solely those of Latverian monarch Dr. Victor Von Doom, and and do not necessarily represent those of ComicsAlliance; we would like to assure our readers and anyone monitoring on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. that we hold Dr. Reed Richards in the utmost respect.

Loyal Citizens,

Take heart, for your beloved master has returned from a brief journey abroad, and he is glad to hear that you treated my regent, Doombot #492, with the respect that you would show Doom. It brings the slightest of smiles to Doom’s fearsome visage to know that his reign is safe in the, to be quite honest, extremely likely event that Doom is once again trapped in Hell, rocketed to the depths of space or set adrift in time itself. There are undoubtedly those among you who are wondering where Doom has been, and while expressing these thoughts would normally result in a mandatory visit to the dreaded Happiness Room, Doom shall nonetheless tell you of his journey to… The Gathering of the Juggalos.Several months ago, Doom received an electronic communique from the Mad Thinker. Normally, Doom consigns such missives to his Junk Mail folder on sight — if the man spent nearly the time on eradicating the accursed Reed Richards and his attendant buffoons that he does on poorly captioned photographs of cats, Doom would no longer be dealing with their prattle — but this one had an air of urgency to it that bore further investigation.

Within was contained a video detailing “The Gathering of the Juggalos.” From what Doom was able to gather, this was an event organized by a criminal organization known as “The Insane Clown Posse,” in which a veritable army of ne’er-do-wells were gathered to do their undoubtedly diabolical bidding, both on land and in the air.

Needless to say, Doom was intrigued. If the collective power of the unwashed miscreants could be bent to the will of a single mastermind and directed at, oh, let us say for the sake of argument, the Fantastic Four, the end result could truly become the final victory of Doctor Doom!

Plus, the video promised sorcery, hypnotism, bloodsports and, most intriguingly, ninjitsu. The services of the Hand have been increasingly unreliable of late, and while Doom was unfamiliar with this clan of ninjas, masterminds in need of a steady supply of henchman do not have the luxury of being choosers.

Thus, Doom traveled to Cave-in-Rock, Illinois via personal jetpack — had Doom known the custom of the land was to arrive in a Toyota Tercel with a mismatched door, he would have perhaps chosen to be less ostentatious — and received both a wristband and an amulet. Quite a promising start.

Unfortunately, things went downhill quickly once Doom entered the Gathering.

Despite the constant promises from the assembled hordes, senses enhanced both by the mysticism of the Vishanti, and science the hated “Mr. Fantastic” can only dream of, Doom was unable to locate a single ninja. Doom is willing to concede that this could in fact be that the ninjas in attendance had truly mastered their art, but Doom sincerely doubts they would make themselves unavailable to receiving a hefty fee for putting their blades to work on the loathsome Johnny Storm. Strike one, Gathering of the Juggalos. So speaks Dr. Doom.

What Doom was presented with was a constant stream of women offering to bare themselves for a pittance and bands that caused Doom to long for the relative quiet of his time spent ensnared in Mephisto’s realm. The one bright spot? Funnel Cake. Doom does not often allow himself to indulge (one does not fit into the same size atomic power armor that one wore in college with a diet untempered by willpower indomitable), but deep-fried dough covered in sugar and served from within a trailer is a siren song which even the unquestioned master of Latveria cannot resist.

Once night had fallen, however, the downward arc continued, as Doom found himself soaked in a liquid called “Faygo” while trying to navigate through a crowd of unwashed humanity gathered to witness Dark Lotus, which Doom assumes was a martial arts display of some kind. Despite the fact that Doom’s armor is light years ahead of Tony Stark’s gin-soaked scribblings, Doom regretfully never took into account that being soaked in corrosive carbonated syrup water would hamper his climate control system. Thus did Doom leave, spending most of the next day recuperating at the nearby Holiday Inn Express.

Doom returned the next evening and seized a chance at appearing onstage at the Gathering’s “Fresh Ass Comedy Tent,” taking the stage for an “open mic” after the audience’s brains had been sufficiently addled by the rantings of someone billed as “Gallagher” but who Doom suspects was the latest incarnation of the Hate-Monger. How the mighty have fallen.

But no sooner had Doom begun his routine with a tried and true joke about Susan Storm and how you can tell she’s been using the computer — classic Doom — than an effrontery of the highest order was committed against his personage. Doom… was being heckled. Heckled! Doom! By someone who referred to himself as “Upchuck the Clown!”

Doom dealt with the lout in the way doom deals with all such rabble: by using his scientific mastery to transport them through time to the X-Age, in which the meddling of the Celestials had given rise to men who lived alongside the fearsome beasts of the past. Convey Doom’s regards to Moon Boy when you’re being rent limb from limb by Devil Dinosaur, Upchuck. You will find him to be the toughest of crowds. Yet even with the sweet taste of revenge, the experience was soured. Doom has decreed: Strike two.

The next day, however, a ray of hope broke through the fetid clouds of illicit smoke, as Doom encountered an occasional ally:

Doom did not expect to encounter M.O.D.O.K. in such a locale, but facepaint applied in truly herculean amounts is difficult to miss. He insisted that during the Gathering, he was M.O.D.O.M.M.F.W.C.L. (though he accepted the more easily pronounceable “JUGGALODOK”), and revealed that he is quite well-versed in the ways of the Insane Clown Posse. He is, in fact, quite friendly with them, and offered to introduce Doom to their leaders.

Doom seized the opportunity and was taken backstage at sunset to meet the “Clowns,” and immediately felt that they were kindred spirits to Doom. They too were made to disguise what Doom assumes are horribly disfigured faces! They too had built an empire! They too had mastery over men and held the fate of nations — or at least soda companies — in their hands! So Doom extended his hand and offered them the opportunity to serve under him, uniting their power with Doom’s in order to utterly destroy the accursed Fantastic Four! They would be favored under the new regime, and be allowed the personal use of Dragon Man on alternate weekends.

They…. declined. Doom was advised to deliver a “demo tape” to Psychopathic Records and escorted quickly from the backstage area. And so did the Gathering strike out.

Doom knows when he has been given the brush-off, cretinous fools. Reed Richards, you may for once in your misbegotten life rest easy, for the attention of Latveria’s sovereign lord has been divided. Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope, on the other hand, have made a grave enemy, a blunder which shall not be soon forgotten. Mark Doom’s words, you shall rue the day when you advised Doom to send in a demo!

This… Doom Swears!

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