Code Name: the Skipper
File Name: Clark Gable... Wait, what?
Primary Team Rossman Specialty: He's old, so he must be wise, so most of Team Rossman goes to him for his divine drunken wisdom.
Goal in Life: To sail the seven seas and fuck a real mermaid.

Here's the Skipper doin' what he does best. That would be assembling semi-automatic weapons while getting drunk and looking all crusty-like at the Sea Wench Pub. It was actually the Skipper himself who taught me how to field strip a Skipper Special (fyi, an SS is a piecemeal AK-47, bazooka and grenade launcher in one convenient package) and reassemble it while being dragged by a speedboat with my wrists tied behind my back and a hammerhead shark nibbling my tootsies. I swear, it's like I can look back at my life and wonder how I ever got along without the obscene little nautical wiseman. How little I truly knew.

First of all, I must start off the Skipper's section by saying GOD BLESS THIS FUCKING MAN! The Skipper (despite his rough and tumble and tough and rumble attitude and appearance) is truly a messenger from above.

My adoration of the man began a few years ago when I was dumped by the heinous hell beast known forever more as "the ho". I was devastated. My world was over! That bitch took the best years of my youth and then left me in the gutter to writhe and squirm in pain and suffering and anger and hate for the rest of my life... or until I decided to get up off my ass and drown my sorrows at the Sea Wench Pub. It was then and there that I first met the Skipper and his incredible life-changing philosophies.

You see, it was the Skipper who thought to make me drink 13 pints of Guinness in 4 hours and get all emotional and weepy while I spilled my guts out over the ho. After I was good and pathetically weak he broke the news to me. The ho was a really good nickname for my ex-girlfriend. The Skipper then proceeded to tell me about all of the men and animals that the ho had banged while we were still going out. At last count that turned out to be 54 dicks she sucked almost all in a row. But what really pissed my goat was the Skipper's final revelation: He was number 53 (his dog, Scurvy, was the last. And that was the day before we broke up). Afterwards I never cried over the ho again.... I did put a hit out on her herpies-carrying ass, but I never shed another tear.

The picture to the left is the first part of the "Skipper Salute." It's just how the Skipper says "hi" and "bye" to people he doesn't like very much. Honestly, I guess he could use the Skipper Salute to people he does like too, but he's never really met one yet. Part two of the Skipper Salute is when he extends his finger and hand into one's face repeatedly. Oh, and as a warning, just like if a doberman starts humping your leg, if the Skipper starts wailing drunken fists of fury into your head, it's best to simply let him finish. If you try to stop him you might make him mad.

The Skipper is a free spirit if I ever saw one. He comes and goes as he pleases, and he sucker punches any poor soul that he comes across who looks like he "needs a whoopin'!" Just a word to the wise, whenever you meet the Skipper (even if it's for the hundredth time), NEVER look away if he says he thinks he sees a cockatoo or a flying vagina. That's usually his cue to wind up and SMASH things.

He also likes things rough. REAL rough. Yeah, Carl may be bastard who likes to see pain in the people that he beats up, but at least he's got some sense of honor. He's got a little voice inside of his head that actually lets him know when he's doing something wrong (which thank God keeps him from stepping on babies). The Skipper had that voice surgically removed by the Shady Dr. Dave a long time ago. He had his little voice replaced with a BIG voice that actually goads him into putting his cigar out on somebody's flesh, or pouring a pint of ale down somebody's trousers. He's also been known to put lit matches in people's shoes just like those old Bugs Bunny cartoons when the mood hits him right. But unlike Bugs Bunny he also likes to put the flames out by making his own water.

This is a picture of the Skipper's luscious 14th wife, the lovely Lorna. She works at the Sea Wench Pub and she's very good at getting everybody shitfaced every night. What made the Skipper fall in love with her is her incredible hatred of all men. See, the Skipper hates all men too, and he's a little slow on the uptake (too much squid-ink sniffing)... He doesn't seem to understand that Lorna doesn't just hate men, she hates the cock. She's 110% fish-eater who's just in the marriage to get at my friend's fabled "pirate treasure". Little does she know that all his bragging stories about his gold were aimed at the tattoo of the coin on his ummm, "lil' cap'n". Looks like she'll never find it unless she switches teams.

What else can I say about the crusty Skipper? Well, he's one of the biggest ladies' men I've ever met. But he's not like one of those asshole-frat boys who simply thinks he's a player. The Skipper is smoother than Sam Malone and Dan Fielding put together and multiplied by 40! Yup, he's right up there with Andy Capp and Bug-Eyed Earl.

But he's also much more than a simple tail chaser. He's a worldly man who knows the value of experience and prostitution. Unfortunately he also knows the value of penicillin and other anti-inflamatories. Word to the wise: Never play the Skipper in a game of STDs Trivial Pursuit. That or Monopoly, but that's only because he knows how to cheat and always get Boardwalk and Park Place. But I digress.

The Skipper is an old fashioned man too. He hates all things mechanical and modern. If something is mass produced and/or made of plastic he likes to take the time to spit on it or set it on fire with gasoline. I remember the first time I introduced the Skipper to Robot Pedro. The Skipper first thought that Robot Pedro was just a kid in some weird hockey uniform with a laser gun. As soon as he found out that the blue meanie was really an evil automaton he busted him upside the head with a bar stool and then used every bottle behind the bar in an attempt to "rip out his mechanical guts like a guppie! Arrrrr!" If I had cared what happened to Robot Pedro I might have gotten upset.

One last piece of info to know about the Skipper: He DETESTS Popeye the sailor man even more than the Village People for their negative effects on how people view nautical seamen. He always roots for Bluto to pound the living shit out of that gay little anchor-tattoo wearing fairy.

Skipper Quote: "Arrrrrrrr. Y'all don't know the meanin' of the word 'man'. Me penis is four times the man you are, you little lilly-livered piece of tuna shit. Hell, Lorna's vagina's at least twice the man you are too! Arrrrr."