The Snatch Report: **WARNING** Could be found offensive.

Note: When reading these words, try to picture or "hear" Tony Montana saying them. I was very seriously considering including a cassette with me reading it with the accent (as it caused us extreme laughter back at the hotel) along with some music, but I honestly wasn't sure how some of the members would react to the Gangster Rap music I wanted to include with it. The stuff really is nasty but can be found funny in the right frame of mind. As of this writing, I still haven't decided whether or not to go through with the reading. All I know is that we were constantly ROTFLOLWTFOEs over it!! Sunday's report is cut short due to time constraints and the fact that I hadn't actually written it up in Toronto.

Origin: For those latecomers: The Snatch Patrol was born on the 401 TransCanada Highway during the drive from Montreal to Toronto for PriMedia 96, November 1, 1996. In the car were myself, Jeff, and Mark Shainblum. While we were driving up, buses from Toronto and Ottawa were driving to Montreal for a Unity Rally. It was a little disheartening and thus to try to keep our minds off the political bullshit happening in our city, I made sure everyone stayed focused on things most men stay focused on: Snatch. The report of this con along with The Snatch Patrol's first printed appearance can be found in Comicopia 39. Since that time, TSP became a part of any out-of-town trips made in my car.

Snatch-Time: August 22, 1997 - Weekend Motto: Don't Matter Just Don't Bite It!

Didn't sleep all night cause I had an itch I couldn't scratch since I wanted to save my strength for the trip. Got up, got ready, and checked myself in the mirror. I looked good enough to eat. I looked dangerous. Hearts were breaking around the world.

Headed off and stopped for gas. The woman at the counter made me wait a little too long. I knew she was checking me out and couldn't bear to see me go. I thought about banging her to put her out of her misery but she looked like she needed a shave. So, I flashed my chest at her, and while she was dazzled, I took some chocolate bars and split.

Picked up the Scarlet Rose and the Wolfman Jeff and hit the road. We stopped at Tim Horton's for breakfast. When the lady took my order, I knew she wanted me. She licked her lips and asked if I wanted hash browns or sausage. A nd you could see it in her eyes, man. She says "sausage" and her lips part and a little gasp escapes her mouth. Mm. The things I could do to her. I tell her, "the sausage is always tasty, baby," and then I blow her a kiss. Man, I could tell from her face that she had some special cream ready for my coffee. Too bad for her I was only interested in the food.

Back on the road, the Snatch Music rocked us good. Gene Simmons is Da Man. He's the King of Snatch, man. And that, is that.

Lunchtime, we stop at Wendy's. I look forward to her Hot 'n Juicy, if chu know what I mean. There's almost a brawl as the women behind the counter want to take our orders. I tell them to cool it and we each take one. I don't know what Frank and Jeff do, but mine drooled too much so I threw her a bib and left with my food.

As we're leaving, we see Ronn Sutton. Frank and I chat with him while Jeff's involved in an orgy in the bathroom. 20 minutes later, we split.

By the time we get to the hotel, we're toast. The woman at the desk is too excited and can't make eye contact. I don't care, I just want to crash. I go back to the lobby to call home. When I get back to the room, I see 2 cavrons trying to get in our room. I'm about to bash their heads in when Frank opens the door and points a gun to their heads. They didn't use the proper knock so he knew they weren't me. They wet their pants. We hustle them into the elevator and back to the lobby. Turns out the bimbo accidentally gave them our room (and key). I jump over the counter and smack her around a bit. She likes it.

The cavrons are taken care of and I drag the broad upstairs by the hair. I throw her down on the cot and Frank and Jeff go to work on her while I snap some pictures. 30 minutes later we throw her out the room and I staple her underwear to the wall. Now, it was time to go out.

It was sad, man. Hardly any snatch out there worth checking out. Frankie kept going on and on about asses. I was looking for boobies and pretty faces. Nothing there. Everywhere we looked, all we saw were people who didn't seem to know what they wanted. And those that did know only wanted money or to wash car windows. It pissed me off, man. I left the baseball bat at home and it was a good thing, too.

Hunger kicked in and we went for food. Taco Fucken Bell. You ever been there? Man, I don't know how I survived. There's supposed to be diced vegetables and beans in those tacos? Felt and tasted like grass and mulched worms and cockroaches. With some rocks thrown in for flavor. Even the Dr. Pepper was watered down. I knew the counter girl wanted me. But I was so disgusted with the food I almost smacked her with Jeff's cane. I'm surprised no one's ever gone postal in a Taco Fucken Bell. Leave McDonald's alone, man. Their fries are good. Taco Fucken Bell? The exit, man.

After putting that crap in our bodies, I had to get rid of it. But the hotel was boring so we went out again for more snatch. Figured that since it was night, something would be there. We were wrong again. After another fruitless search, we went to Tim Horton's for coffee. Finally, a cute counter girl! But she was screwed up, man. I order a coffee and she asks, "how do you want it?" "Whatchoomean? Like, besides in a cup?! Forget it, baby. Just for that, you're gonna have to take care of yourself tonight. Get some new batteries for your plastic friend cause you're not getting anything from me!"

We finally get our drinks and sit back to relax. After an eternity, some nice looking snatch walks in. Even Frank likes their butts. And then, they open their mouths and spoil the effect. "Get me a coffee, milk, no sugar. Make sure it's milk and not cream. Low fat!" yells one to the other as she makes her way to the bathroom.

I snap.

I pick up Jeff's cane and chase her into the bathroom. After one smack over the head, I worry about denting Jeff's cane so I use my feet instead. 10 minutes later, I exit and pass the cane to Jeff. He smacks his lips and goes inside. 10 minutes after that, he comes out. Frank goes: "10 minutes?" Jeff answers, "Hey, I'm done!"

20 minutes later, the bimbo comes out wearing different clothes and no bra. I think Jeff's wearing it. Her friend wonders what happened so Francisco went to work on her. "If you're finished with that donut, I'll give you something to wash it down with."

They go into the bathroom and Frank comes out 30 minutes later. The show-off. She exits 10 minutes after that, smiling, exhausted, and rubbing her butt. We're about done so we wink at them and leave. Frank and Jeff are happy but I'm still frustrated. I don't get my jollies smacking bitches around.

Saturday August 23, 1997
Got up at 6:30am and after a shower, I headed down to the lobby to write. Some hot little mama was at the reception and I knew, from the second she saw me, that she wanted me. She asked if she could do something for me. I told her, "No, but maybe you can do something TO me." That line never fails. Within a few minutes the bimbo who screwed up the room was taking care of the reception area while the hot chickita was taking care of me in the back.

When we were done, the bimbo wanted some action. I told her to shut up and get back to work. She looked like she was gonna cry so I tweaked her boobie and told her that Frank would take care of her when he came down. She smiled and gave me a hug. Bimbo just wanted to grab my ass.

Frank finally came down and took care of her. Then we waited for Jeff to show up. Apparently he pulled the maid into the shower with him and thus took his sweet time getting ready. We had breakfast at McDonald's. How can anyone turn down coffee, eggs, and mcMUFFin?

Compared to Montreal's Elwin Cons, the Convention Center setup was huge! The whole time was spent chatting, walking, and basically meeting people. It was a fun day and really nice seeing Janet, Ronn, Terry, Len, Mark, and Rob Kraus again. (Rob's now expanded into the gaming market and still amazes me (and inspires) with his creativity and desire to test new areas. It was also pretty cool meeting up with Mike and Diana Okomoto and Pamela Hazleton. In fact, it was so much fun schmoozing that I wasn't too bothered by the lack of edible snatch in the area.

I did see the SpawnMobile. What a joke. Stupid kitt car that looked ridiculous. I think it has a wind-up crank to make it move. (Hmmm... just like the creator?) Mattel would be embarrassed to have it as a toy. I don't even think it came with batteries, man.

Before we knew it, the con was over and we were once again prowling Yonge Street. It's nice to be optimistic, but the lack of snatch was seriously depressing. So, after an hour, we turned back to go to the Hot House Cafe for the Industry Night dinner. Yeah, baby! Hot House Cafe! There had to be some Hot Snatch there! And there was! The woman at the door was scrumptious and as she walked us to where we had to go, she motioned for me to follow her. Frank and Jeff settled in at our tables, and I was literally pushed into the bathrooms by this hungry little nympho. Mm. I love natural blondes. You should see my collection of pubic hair.

Getting back to the fellas, they asked where I'd disappeared to. I told them I had a snake in my pants that just had to get out. Then, I showed them my latest trophy and we shared a round of high-fives. The rest of the evening was relaxing. We chatted with other industry folk, ate some good food, and were waited upon by some enticing ladies. It was nice to see they were always prepared for whatever we placed on the table.

Masochists that we were, we went prowling again but this time not expecting to find anything. And that's exactly what we found. It was all right, though, cause we were kinda stuffed with food. One large coffee later, we were back at the hotel, reading the booty we had acquired during the day. The stapled underwear collection was growing nicely.

Sunday August 24, 1997
Frank and I let Jeff sleep in this morning and we headed out to McDonald's for breakfast again. We were used to the deserted streets. And breakfast was peaceful. Got their "Big Breakfast" with a side order of spread legs. Heck, there was more than enough jam to go around if you unnerstand what I'm talking about. Jeff joined us much later and we then headed back to the con.

Not much to say about the convention day itself, though. We had sold a lot more copies of VOTT than expected the day before. But today, I think the horny folks came in. Suddenly, lots of Embassy ashcans were going! That's right, baby, and there's plenty more where that came from! Again, the day was spent goofing around with the table behind us, chattting it up with old and new friends, and this time spending a truckload of money on old comics. What the hell. I'd already dropped a coupla loads of various stuff in this city. I figured I'd drop some money as well. Before we knew it, it was all over. We packed up, said Chow to everyone, felt a couple of butts here and there, and headed back to the hotel to leave our stuff.

We wuz hungry so we went to Eastside Mario's for supper. Hey, they offered some Badda Bing Badda Boom with their meals. In my language that means you help them lay the dressing on the salad. To make a long story short, I had a spicy meal which fired me up and abated my hunger and then quenched my thirst in some sweet juice. And the meal was pretty good, too!

Francisco had the hostess with the mostess and I lost track of Jeff somewhere along the line-up to the head waitress. You could tell she was the head waitress, man. She was wearing the knee pads. Not much to say about the rest of the night cause it was time to sleep so we could get an early start back home!

Recap: I could go on at length and tell you about the trip home, and how we scarred Mark when we exposed him to the Gangsta Rap as well as when we had the waitress at Pizza hut reach for his nuts after she placed his order on the table. I could tell you the story of the gas pump lady and just how much pumping she did when we stopped over. I can even tell you about the gang of broads who showed us their appreciation by baring their breasts to us as we walked by. But that's not what you're all here for, right? You wanna know about the convention. It was a blast. You wanna know about the guests. They wuz cool. You wanna know about the total number of underwear we stapled to our hotel room. You'll have to guess.