June 12 , 2005

LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!

You probably don't know who Leroy Jenkins is. A quick primer:

There's a video floating around the Intarweb of a bunch of geeks playing World Of Warcraft. Now, this is what's known as a MMORPG, or Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game. It's enormously popular, especially among people who have 80+ hours to kill online a week and like to pretend that they're an orc. (And no, I don't play it...my piece of shit PC isn't powerful enough to run it.)

A group of friends, or a "guild" is preparing to attack a very difficult (I assume) part of the game. They're called "Pals For Life", I guess because "Super Friends" was already taken. After spending WAY too much time planning their strategy, one of them (Leroy) just charges in with a battle cry of "LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!" The plan goes to shit, they all curse him...it's actually pretty funny, even if you're not a nerd (Watch the video HERE).

Personally, I think that the "LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!" battlecry is the funniest thing I've heard in months. But I'm here to warn you...DO NOT USE THE "LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!" battlecry yourself! It's a harbinger of doom!!!

Here's why.

Last night, Morn went out to the store to get smokes or chips or crack or something or other. (Hey, YOU try living with me...crack becomes the only option.) I figured while she was gone I'd make us both some delicious, refreshing, banana-blueberry smoothies, using our brand-new blender.

The ingredients go in, and I hit frappe, or gooify, or whatever setting I hit. The blender spins into glorious action, much like the "Magic Bullet" of infomercial fame. It's loud, it's effective...it's blenderrific. So, to celebrate my culinary expertise, I let out a cry of "LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!" loud enough to be heard over the grinding of the blender.

KA-BOOM!

The fucking thing explodes. Smoothie EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE, including me.

I'm camera-less right now, otherwise I would have immediately snapped a picture. But let me put it to you this way...remember the gum-loving girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? The one who expanded into a giant blueberry? The one whom the Oompa-Loompas ("Tell them I hate them!") had to roll away so they could squeeze the juice out of her? It looked like they just parked her on a land mine and ran for cover.

So, after realizing I couldn't take a picture of it (because, you know, you've got to have priorities...) I immediately started to try to clean it up. Sadly, I'd only managed to clean about one fluid ounce of smoothie before Morn walked in the door.

" Naked, I popped into the bakery and got you some of those butter-pecan tarts that you like so..."

She pauses, takes a look around, drinking in the carnage. She blinks once, then twice...and out she walks into the living room...not saying a word.

A few minutes later, presumably after composing herself, she calmly walks back in and calmly asks "Okay...exactly HOW long was I gone for?"

"About ten minutes, but..."

"AH!" she puts up a finger to silence me.

"No, but you don't understand...see..."

"AH AH!" she's waving her hand now. Murder is in her eyes. "Be. Quiet."

Being smarter than the average bear, I comply.

"Okay...(deep breath)...THIS is why I don't want you in the kitchen."

"I'm cleaning it up..."

"You're fucking RIGHT you're cleaning it up."

"But...you don't understand...it's not my fault!"

blink...blink blink...

"Okay Naked...you've got exactly three seconds to explain how this isn't your fault."

"See, I wanted to make smoothies...and it was loud, and I screamed 'LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!'...and it went BOOM, and then..."

I stopped myself this time, realizing I was speaking gibberish. And, knowing her for 11 years, I know when I'm licked. After a pause slightly less comfortable than the pause between a guillotine blade being hoisted up and it's eventual release, she asks, "Are you DRUNK or something?"

It hurt a little, especially since I hadn't touched a drop. But, after looking around at the delicious blue carnage of the kitchen (which, I might add, needed a paint job anyway...) and replaying the incident in my mind, I said the only thing I could say to redeem myself.

"Yes. Yes I AM drunk."

The moral of the story? Never, under ANY circumstances, scream "LEEEEEROOOY NJENKINNNNSSS!!!" Nothing good can come of it. Trust me.

But hey, as Leroy himself would say, "At least I have chicken."

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