You asked, and he answered.
The (Nearly) Infamous Zango, star of Nearly Infamous Zango, has filed his responses to your advice column questions with Zango writer-artist Rob Osborne, and we present them to you here now.
We also have a winner in our Ask Zango contest: HI user Robert! We’ll be in touch shortly to coordinate delivery of your MEGAKEWL prize package.
All Hail Zango! And because he stars in a great comic, All Buy Zango!
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
How would you describe your working relationship with your handler Rob Osborne? Is he always making you do things you don’t want to do, like go to book signings or being a guest speaker at a villain convention, when you would rather just sit at home watching TV? Or is it the opposite, where he’s there to hold you back from all of your wild and crazy antics?
And are there any problems with having an attack-gorilla that you didn’t know about before you decided to have one? Bad odor? Expensive to feed?
Swearing my Undying Fealty,
Robert
Who do you think you’re talking to, Robert?! I am Lord Zango! No one handles Zango! Not even Zango!
Osborne is just a worthless wretch! He thinks that because he knows how to hold a pencil he is qualified to tell the stories of Zango! But it is I who allow this inept moron to tell my tales. It is I who command him to spread the word of my brilliance. And I demand that he makes me look good!
When you read The Nearly Infamous Zango, you should come away trembling with fear! You will know that my intellect has no equal! My power is expansive! My will is like steel!
If Osborne does his job properly, then soon all the world will shiver at the mention of my name. Then, all will submit to me. And if not, Osborne and the rest of you doddering dolts will be crushed beneath my bunny slippers!
In regards to your inquiry about the attack-gorilla, it is abundantly clear that Deacon Dread is losing his edge. Perhaps he has dementia. Because that overgrown monkey was as useless as a pogo stick. I don’t want cutesie toys. I want results!
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
Every night some hooligans in my neighborhood throw rocks at cars. I’ve had two windows broken already! If it weren’t for the fact that I drive an ‘82 Rabbit, I fear my car would be ransacked as well. What would you do to stop this rash of absurdity?
Also, they ring my door bell at 2am. Make it stop!
Sincerely,
Borderline Psychotic in Boston
A 1982 Volkswagen Rabbit? This is what you drive?! It’s no wonder you’re on the receiving end of abuse. You’re a loathsome fool without a proper understanding of how the world works! You drive a car that no self-respecting 16-year-old girl would accept as a birthday gift!
We live in a world governed by force! The aggressor enjoys the spoils. Consider the wild, where the tiger pounces on a zebra. The tiger gets dinner, and the zebra complains about—What? Doorbells and rocks?! How unfair life is?
No! The zebra is dead meat!
Stop being a wuss, Boston boy! Release this psychotic behavior you so-nearly indulge in, and take your anger out on the hooligans that torment you and your neighbors!
No one is coming to your rescue. It’s time you took things into your own hands. Inflict some pain! And make sure everyone in your neighborhood knows it was you who caused those troublemakers to suffer. That’s how you get respect!
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
My husband and I have been married for 15 years, but lately it seems like we hardly even know each other anymore. He’s been spending a lot more time than usual in his secret laboratory, and recently he genetically engineered a new assistant, a super-intelligent chimpanzee who he calls JoJo. He says she’s just his helper, but he keeps coming home later and later, and yesterday I could smell her perfume on him, and his hair was messier than usual (almost as if someone had been “grooming” him). Am I crazy for thinking there’s something going on here? How can I confront him about this without driving him away further?
—Feeling Jealous in Metrotown
Sounds like your husband may be into some monkey business. Which disgusts me to no end.
If you fear conflict, then you’re too soft and weak to get what you want. Always initiate conflict! Always demand what you want! Always give outrageous ultimatums!
If this doesn’t yield the results you desire, then be prepared to make your husband miserable. Hopefully, your spine proves sturdy enough to stand up for yourself, oh Jealous One.
Zango rocks.
He reminds me of “The Monarch” from The Venture Brothers.
Did you crib from TVB? Did they crib from you?
...or was this a case of totally awesome parallel inspiration?
- TJIC
Zango does rock! I am the Great Lord of Metrotown! I am to be loved and loathed! I am to be revered and despised! But you’re a fool, TJIC! Second-rate wannabe super-hacks like the Venture Brothers are constantly imitating Zango!
Besides, isn’t that a cartoon? Lord Zango is real. I inflict real agony.
There is only one Lord Alfred Zango, Jr! Your lives are meaningless without me! All the imposters will kneel before my greatness!
Dear Mr. Nilifamus Zango,
Van Freako found big rabbit for nice playing. Rabbit not soft and cuddly. Rabbit made of metal and glass. Rabbit fun! Van Freako play rock game with rabbit! Me not want to hurt rabbit, but Van Freako break glass. Van Freako afraid to tell Dread. What should Van Freako do?
-Van Freako
ps Van Freako like Zango bunny slippers. Me can play with Zango bunny slippers?
Van Freako, you half-witted troglodyte! Keep pestering me with your incessant whining and I’ll have Deacon Dread put you to sleep! And I’m not talking about a nap! I mean the long, rotting kind.
And stay away from my slippers, Van Freaks-a-lot, or I’ll give you a zap.
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
What T.V. show satiates a mind such as yours? Are there any that could even hope to hold your attention?
- Chris
Chris, is your life so barren of meaning that you wish to know the viewing habits of Lord Zango?
Maybe I enjoyed the recent episode of Oprah, where she shared her “favorite things” with the audience. Perhaps I relish the political blood-letting that is on the cable news networks every night. Surely you’ll find it fascinating that I watched the finale of American Idol. And yes, I’m glad that Archuleta was sent home crying to his mother!
But there’s nothing on television that sates me. My grey matter requires greater stimulation than Hell’s Kitchen and The Office can provide. The NBA playoffs are more sleep-inducing than Ambien.
Soon, your high-def television will be dominated by my handsome and dangerous face. Then you’ll experience the rich, terrifying potential of television.
I, LT COLONEL JUSTICE, have a question for you!
Your evil must end! The reign of terror you have brought to this fair city is intolerable, and you must be stopped! With the aid of my trusty teenaged sidekick, PERCY, I will defeat your android army! My question to you, Iron Ox, is…
Iron Ox?! I’m not the Iron Ox! I am ZANGO!
What do you mean this isn’t Iron Ox? Zango? (Nearly) Infamous Zango…
Zango…I KNOW I’ve heard that name from somewhere…Zango…AHA!
You’re the one with the lisp, aren’t you?
Justice, you inept mongrel! With a single Zango Zap, I’ll turn you to a heap of smoking ashes! Never mention that pontificating puke’s name again! I hate the Iron Ox! And I shall ram those robots of his into a dark and uncomfortable place!
Dear (Nearly) Infamous Zango:
Your daughter is HOT! Is she single?
- Sidekick Percy
Percy! Don’t you dare speak of my daughter! She’s off limits! You’ll rue the day that I cross paths with you and your doofus mentor!
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
What are your fondest memories from the height of your villany? Was there a certain do-gooder that got under your skin? What was your favorite way to get them to wish they had never been born?
- Robert
The height of my villainy? Robert, your head is full of Play-Doh if you think that I’ve fallen from my Machiavellian pinnacle!
I am still the greatest, most formidable supervillain alive. None shall surpass me. Especially that self-absorbed loudmouth Iron Ox.
Do I have fond memories of terrorizing Metrotown? Yes. Do I long to bring the entire population to its knees once again? Of course. Will that happen again soon? Most definitely. Provided that Dread doesn’t disappoint me again. As soon as my army of killer fruit is ready, I shall break this city.
That’s right. Killer fruit. Run for your lives.
Dear Mr. (Nearly) Infamous Zango,
Do you feel that, as a villain, you get more chicks than the goodie-two-shoes of the world? Cause I’d kill to get some action.
Signed,
Desperate in Atlanta
Desperate, are you hoping to get some hot Zango action? Well get in line, sweetheart! I’ve got a bevy of fawning fans clamoring to spend time with me.
But you’ll be waiting forever, because your desperation reeks of, well, desperation! You must change your ways! Don’t grovel. Don’t sulk. Don’t place stuffed animals on the dashboard of your car. Don’t get lots of cats and become the “Cat Lady.”
You said, “I’d kill to get some action.” That’s hot. Demand action! Just not from me.
(Nearly) Infamous Zango, I beseech thee!
How can you tell if a one-eyed man is winking or blinking?
Yours in eternal serf-itude,
- Matt C.
Such nonsensical quandaries are beneath me! My cerebral powers aren’t to be trifled with, Matt C.
Coincidentally, Deacon Dread has only one eye now. I can promise you, he won’t be winking at me. He’s never been a winker. And he knows that coyness is intolerable!
Now, all of you, heed my words! Make yourselves useful! I am Lord Zango, and all shall submit to me or suffer my wrath! Spread the word to your so-called friends and colleagues…
I am Lord Zango! Love me! Loathe me! Serve me!
For more information about The Nearly Infamous Zango, please visit AbsoluteTyrant.com. And to learn more about writer-artist Rob Osborne, visit RobOsborne.net.
