Neckbeard, communal narcissist and Area 51 test subject Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt is busy thinking up ways to escape his captors.
“Hey Damien, we have an Easter surprise for you!” the guard says to the imprisoned moron who tried to storm the underground Nevada laboratory, thinking he could get away with it.
“Oh boy, oh boy! What is it?” the creepy fool asks, devilish grin spreading across his face and day-glow orange beard. Visions of over-the-top baskets fill his head, not unlike the ones with which he used to love-bomb his targets of potential narcissistic supply.
”If we told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise!”
Damien, filled with glee to be free from his cell and daily flatulence testing at the Alternative Fuel Source Department, the world’s largest source of natural gas is led down the hall. He and the guards make their way past the cafeteria, aliens and deejay. Happy to hear some Starland Vocal Band over the intercom, Damien wonders what will make his afternoon delicious.
Much to the delight of the staff, and dismay of the nitwit Damien, he gets strapped to a table. A tattoo artist emerges, and begins to carve egg-shaped designs into the narc-a-doodle’s bum at the Pain Tolerance Department.