The Power Hour

Marsupial Jones the Power Hour. Even if it’s only half an hour. Even if it’s only fifteen minutes: The Marsupial Jones Power Hour! Enjooooooy the show.

If that theme song isn’t enough to get your motor running, you’re probably dead. Stop getting your dead-people-goo all over Conrad’s keyboard. Okay, it’s like this, we’re making an animated web pilot for television. Remember GI JOE, Johnnie Quest, and Scooby Doo? Good. But this has nothing to do with those. God, how many animated adventure cartoon parodies can the world take? Where was I— Oh yes, this is more like Reading Rainbow, Peter Rabbit, and all of the deep-seated fears of your subconscious had a baby, then threw that baby down a flight of stairs and it grew up thinking, “Who am I?” and “I hope that smell isn’t me!”

Oh, you really want to know what the show is about? Hm. Okay, I’ll bite. Brandon and I are from the future (I know this part seems real, we’re getting to the made up stuff, super swear) and we make a media time capsule to send a warning message back to the masses. Hopefully you won’t end up as boned as we are in our time. I know it looks like we have fun now, but that is us from the future enjoying the past, not us from the future-back in the future-wearing jumbo shackles and being chased by a super sonic martian fuck your ass monster demon. You would come back too. I digress. We’re from the future. Build this media machine. Transmit warning message. But then what to do with the technology? You work for years to build something, you want to get more usage out of it than just under a minute. So we do what any honest American would do in our position: we stage our own variety show, transmitting television of the horrifying martian sun future back to the past. It’s like sketch comedy you grew up with, but it tastes…newer.

If you require further explanation, you likely suffer some sort of… well, I’ll just refer you preemptively to our hate mail section:

Hate Mail c/o Benjamin Cardoza.