I am pretty fucked up right now. I have just unearthed cold, hard evidence that world-renowned (secret agent) and one-time Late Night guest, Tom King, and the designer for the Punisher logo used for racists and racist’s trucks, Mitch Gerads, are in fact two different people… that share one toupee between them.
I know what you are thinking, and the best way I can explain this is with an apt example.
Full House was a show and on that show, the youngest, Michelle Tanner, was played by two different girls. They were twins, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. To circumvent restrictions on how often a child can work, they used both actors to play the same character. Michelle was the twin that was in front of the camera.
The baldness is these comic creators’ camera. Whoever bares bald, becomes the Tom King, and the one shamed to wear the toupee gets to live their life as Mitch Gerads until the switch happens. It is subtle. So, So very subtle. I only spotted it while on one of my white wine weeknights with your mother. Between the plant-based cheese and my meat, our charcuterie was becoming an alcohol-soaked hoot-erie. I was having trouble with my vision, while I tried to look at my phone, and I mistook a photo of Tom King to be a bald Mitch Gerads. I did some research.
I then went on Google, safe search offed photos of Tom King and Mitch Gerads, after placing a few next to each other and I could not tell the difference. What was going on here? Did they know each other before? Are they related? Is this a Face/ Off situation? Was it horsehair? Do they have a prescription for ketamine because of the horsehair? My questions led me to the D.C. offices, and since airfare is so cheap right now for some reason, I decided to indulge my curiosity.
Little did I know, when I reached the airport and informed them about my intentions, there was a miscommunication. Apparently, something bad happened at the other D.C. offices. I was immediately detained. I went on to explain that it is hard to see C-SPAN or whatever when I have a mouthful of your mother. Since I was already in the hole, I asked them if they noticed the colour of my brown skin. I was immediately moved to an actual hole.
There I was hard as a rock, being waterboarded by several men that used Skoal. I could barely see much between the blindfold whippings and humiliating strippings. I was hard, but I was broken. This hole was the last place I needed to be in my investigation as to why two grown men with no hair, would share two different identities and one toupee.
After what felt like weeks, I was a shell of the man I used to be. This is because I molt like snakes. They kept asking me questions about things I did not know. Sieges and insurrections, I knew nothing about these. I kept repeating two names and a noun, “Tom King,… Mitch Gerdas,… Toupee.” They would laugh at me and my weeks-long erection from being tortured.
Then, one day I found myself being lifted by my bootstraps from this hole. My mind started to race because all the blood rushed back into my brain after losing my erection leaving the hole. I saw a masked man give me a thumbs up after untying my hands. He wore a weird skull mask.
I asked who he was, he said I was looking for him. My synapses touched, like a whip cracking my back. That skull was the Punisher logo. This could only have been Mitch Gerads. We got toward his sensible sedan. I insisted that I wanted to drive, I was then pushed to the passenger seat.
After a long pause, I broke the silence and told the masked driver that I knew who he was. He put the car in park at the next passport check in the Syrian Desert, sighed, and looked at me.
Slowly, he pulled off his Punisher mask, and his beard became present. I met his bare eyes when he spoke, still taking his mask off.
“It’s Mitch, bitch”, he said with the confidence of a man whose been working on a line delivery for at least ten minutes.
But. As if time slowed, he kept pulling his mask off, and along with it his hair.
“Why were you asking about me?”
A pregnant pause.
I could do nothing but stop and stare at his hands, his eyes followed my glance. along with the Punisher mask, his hands were holding a toupee.
I whispered one word, “Tom King,” before I was punched in the throat and I blacked out, as one does after ejaculating.
I woke up in a Chicago dumpster next to the dumpster I usually hang out inside. My passport, my wallet, my shoes, were completely absent because I forgot to bring them when I went to the airport. Everything was back to normal, but I now had confirmation about my theory and a million more questions.
Tom King and Mitch Gerads are the same but also different, only by this one toupee. Was this a CIA measure? When do they decide who plays the King and who plays the little Mitch? I am at the end of my rope without any proof outside of my experience. I have attached one more side by side below. The truth is on their (heads.)