Hot Boy Villain Awards Part 4

Vol. 8, Part 2 of the live holostream of the 273rd annual Hot Boy Villain Awards, featuring ads from around the Spacedale Fashion OctoSphere food court. (Part of our live stream on Twitch from 8/28/2020.  Follow at neverrad.com/twitch)



TANGELO:    Welcome back, Hot Boy Villain fans.  Get your fainting couch ready and let’s find out winner of “Best Smirk, Sneer, or Mocking Laugh,”


TANGELO:    And the winner is… Raspian Zenith! This is Raspian’s third nomination and first win since he burst onto the scene with a motorcycle skid turn and a wink. He was this close to winning pointiest hair last year. He looked just like a Hottie.  Frankly, Raspian, I think you were robbed.  But I guess the third time’s the charm.  Get up here, you sexy bad boy.



TANGELO:    Oh. He’s riding his motorcycle up the stairs.  Okay then.  How does it feel, Raspian?

RASPIAN:    Wouldn’t you like to know.

TANGELO:    Well, yeah.  That’s why I asked.

RASPIAN:    Ha.  That’s what I thought.


TANGELO:    And there he goes.  That’s one bird you cannot chain.  And speaking of flapping in the wind, it’s time for the official Gerwicks Tight Pants and Tall Collars award for Best Cape, brought to you by Gerwicks.  For over 400 years, Gerwicks has been the stylish Hot Boy Villain’s go-to supplier of shiny leather pants, puffy shirts, jackets with way too many zippers, and more.  Every attendee at tonight’s show will receive a gift bag with over one hundred Gerwick’s zippers so everyone can feel like a winner.  And now, the  nominees for “Best Cape.”


TANGELO:    And the nominees are… where are the nominees?  The teleprompter is blank. Hey, Barry?  Is this a tech thing? Do I throw to commercial? I already did the Gerwick’s read. Hang in there, folks.  This is part of the excitement of live broadcasting. Barry, just read the nominees into my ear monitor. The nominees are… devoured.  That doesn’t ring a bell. Is there a devoured in the room?  What’s that, Barry? The nominees have been devoured? Yowzers. One left? Well I guess that’s the winner. Okay, everybody put your hands together for the winner of “Best Cape,” Orgelthrek, Master of Darkness and Purveyor of Galactic Destruction.


TANGELO:    Orgelthrek couldn’t be here tonight or we would all be torn asunder by his gaping maw, so here to  accept the award on his behalf is Main Course Frootle Oops.  What do you say, Frootle?

OOPS:    Heed my words, young ne’er-do-wells.  You are now but tater tots, villainous veal, evil al dente.    You would be wise to enter His Holy Gob before you over-ripen.  All you Hot Boy Villains think so highly of yourselves.  But remember, Orgelthrek devours all.  He is a god.  You are mere morsels.  Also, stay away from the triple lactose ice-cream.  It hurts his tum-tum.  Frootle Oops out.


TANGELO:    Sobering words from a cloaked figure.  The next category is a fan- can you hear me okay?  I don’t know how fragile this mic is.  It looks expensive.  Kinda rude to just drop it.  We’re good?  Alright.  The next category is a fan favorite.  Prepare to swoon.  It’s the award for “Best Smoldering Glare.”  After a quick break.  I suggest you hydrate because you’re about to get real thirsty.  Stay tuned.



SCENE 8A: Food Court/SpaceDonalds #3

SPACEDONALD:    Howdy, y’all. It’s me, Julian “McTomahawk” SpaceDonald, owner and founder of SpaceDonald’s, the quickest and most filling meal here in The Spacedale Fashion Octasphere, and I’m here today with one of my regular, very satisfied customers, Ol’ Sandy from outside the Lukewarm Theme. Now, Ol’ Sandy here gets one thing and one thing only: a delicious pipin’ warm bev from one of my two beverage bathtubs. Unfortunately, Ol’ Sandy wandered into that corn dog place and got karate-chopped in the throat the other day and hasn’t been able to speak since, so I’m gonna be speakin’ for Ol’ Sandy when I say SpaceDonald’s is your best food option in the Spacedale Fashion Octasphere. It says that on the sign and everything and was spoken by some high-ranking Shepard of SpaceGod or something, I can’t remember, I was a little too filled up on SpaceDebris, one of my classic bev flavors.

    At SpaceDonald’s, we skip the rigamarole of pillows for your feet and a background check to figure out your yearly income. You just walk up to the counter, pick something off the menu, and I’ll go make it myself, marinade or not like it goddamn should be. You’re hungry now. Ain’t nobody wanna go through an hour of eating preparation. I can flip you a burger made of the freshest space-scavenged ingredients in 5 minutes, guaranteed. Ol’ Sandy can attest. You got lotsa business outside that Lukewarm Theme, you can’t be wasting that time doing nothing. They ever let you back in there after the Spicewater incident? That ain’t important right now, we’ll marinate on this later.

    SpaceDonald’s prides itself on being more than just edible; I want you to bite into a BigDon and go “wow, I wonder what’s in here?” so I can point to the sign by the counter that says “Don’t ask questions about the food.” That’s for me to worry about; you just gotta worry about getting that good good meat into your belly as fast as physically possible and not worry about the implications of that.

    SpaceDonald’s: It’s good!

SCENE 8B: Food Court/Alfonse #3

ALFONSE:    How it feels to bite into Alfonse’s Gourmet Cornéd Dog.

SFX 1 (CONRAD):    A long descending pitch.

SFX 2 (CONRAD:    A gunshot.

ALFONSE:    Food is the spice of life. Not spice water. That is nonsense. If your life is lacking in some excitement, come enjoy the unique thrill of Alfonse’s Gourmet Cornéd Dog, voted number one most discriminating restaurant in SpaceDale.

    What is it like dining at Alfonse’s Gourmet Cornéd Dog? You may be imagining glass sneeze guards and warming lamps, but you would be wrong. Step behind our concierge desk facing the rest of the food court where the riff raff and undesirables eat, and you are brought into a world of comfort and luxury unknown to any other parts of the space station. We start with a manicure and pedicure. You’ve heard of old man bath water, but at Alfonse’s we serve you Gay Gamer Mergirl Bathwater. It has a light, delicate flavor with a hidden richness available to only the finest of tastebuds.

    Then you are presented with a catalog. Would you like the Alfonse Cornéd Dog? Or perhaps would you like something more daring? In the catalog you will find images of representatives from the finest nonhuman cultures and cuisines. Point to the specimen you would like to know more about and our Corn-molieres will tell you more about your expected dining experience. 

    For a little bit extra, I will spit on you and slap food out of your hand, you filthy human. 

    To some we may be a corndog snob stop. To others, like yourself, we are a way of life.  It’s not like you were going to eat at Fishtopher’s anyway. He’s a Firishman. 

    Alfonse’s. Humane. Human. Luxury. Try the Polish Sausage.

SCENE 8C: Food Court/Fishtopher #3

MFX 1:    Fancy ass music [underscoring the following]

SPOKESBEING:    [posh-ass accent] Looking for a finer class of dining? 

SFX 1:    Record scratch

MFX 2:    Badass guitar

SPOKESBEING:    Hell no! If you’ve got no time for highfalutin’ self-important BS, come on down to Fishtopher’s House of Pi for down home, honest, eating: simple nutrients prepared by experts, no cloth napkin required.

FISHTOPHER:    I’m Fishtopher [silly noise], creator and chief foodicizer of Fishtopher’s House of Pi. Here at Fishtopher’s, we’re not stuck up. We don’t care about fancy menus or ornate ingredients or wearing a tie. Fishtopher’s House of Pi is a restaurant of the people. Like I always say, we’re your friend in the food court. So come on down to Spacedale Fashion Octosphere for a taste of real food for real beings, on the corner of Spacedale Rd. and Acoma, one mile south of Bell Spaceway, open weekdays til 8, Saturdays and Sundays til 5. Now YOU have a friend in the Food Court. Fishtopher’s House of Pi. Edibility is our middle name.

SCENE 8D: Food Court/pizza #3

STUPERFULUX:    To whomever can hear this, please, please come to Burnt Pizza Tacos and buy something.  I know we’re not as fancy as Philosopher’s Corn Dogs, as fun as Phishtopher’s shouting place, or as affordable and Space God-fearing as SpaceDonalds, I know our food is weird and doesn’t taste good, that our staff makes you uncomfortable when they get in your personal space even though they have been drug tested two times, but we need you.  I need you.  

    Burnt Pizza, the most gorgeous man to ever walk this The Spacedale Fashion Octosphere, or any octosphere, left this life far too soon.  His muscly forearms with the rolled up sleeves and perfectly 1700 hours-shadowed jawline flapped their way to space heaven and this buck wild food kiosk is all I have left of him.  We’re clearly not making a lot of credits here.  I started an online funding campaign, but it’s not even covering the cost of my journaling pens.  Have you ever loved someone so much you would punch a baby for them?  I mean, not that I would ever want to do that, that’s a horrible thing.  But that’s what I’m saying, I would do anything for Burnt Pizza.  If you know what love is, help me out.  I have been here since Burnt Pizza hired me as assistant manager and it has been the most beautiful, amazing, uplifting, fulfilling, and heartbreaking two weeks of my life.  Burnt Pizza Tacos.  You don’t have to eat here, but I hope you give me money.  I have nowhere else to go.  

    I guess I have 10 seconds more airtime.  I don’t want to leave you on a down note.  Don’t worry about ol’ Stuperfulux.  I’ll be just fine.  Just fine.  It’s fine.  Burnt Pizza Tacos.  Love never dies.