s Pepsi’s heavily marketed new nasty blue cola starts hitting store shelves this week, Coke is putting the finishing touches on its own new soda: Pepsi Coke. The new cola, subject of heated rumors for months and developed under the code name Cokesi, is a Pepsi-flavored version of its Coca-Cola Classic brand, and will appear in regional markets in August.

The apparent coincidence of the two launches is a familiar trick in the ruthless cola wars, in which the business world’s two most famous and petty rivals are forever scheming to one-up and stink-finger each other. Pepsi is hoping that its own blind stab in the dark, Pepsi Blue, a berry-flavored cola described as “what it would taste like if fruit could scream,� will be the aorta-spurting death blow it has been hoping to deal to rival Coke for decades. Naturally, Coke wants its hunk of the spotlight as well, and has little interest in “being stomped into asshole powder,� by rival Pepsi, as the industry jargon goes. With the release of new Pepsi Coke, Coca-Cola hopes to hit Pepsi right where it lives, namely in producing Pepsi-flavored sodas for the national market.

Coke’s tactics are not new in the industry. The last time Pepsi tried to re-invent the wheel by making it a different color, Coke responded quicker than the producers of the 1988 comedy Vice Versa. Pepsi’s Crystal Pepsi, a clear cola that tasted like a robot had pissed on a box of Nerds candy, was quickly one-upped in 1992 with Tab Invisible from Coke, a move that confused consumers and sent them back to drinking water.

Hoping to not only match Pepsi, but match them twice, Coke is also hedging its bets by releasing its own new berry-flavored blue drink, Fanta Berry, ensuring that Pepsi Blue won’t be lonely during its short slide into pop-culture trivia obscurity.

Stan Villanowski, a Coke spokesman and terrific liar, denied that Fanta Berry is being launched in response to Pepsi Blue. “Pssssh. Who told you that? What an imagination. Fanta is the No. 1 fruit-flavored soft drink in the world,� he said. “Plus, it comes in those cool cascading dispensers that make it look like Fanta is already being digested. Fanta Berry is a logical extension for the Fanta brand, bringing balance to the Fanta Univerise.� Besides, the drink will also be more of a cobalt blue rather than the “dirty antifreeze blue� of Pepsi’s new cola, he added.

Fanta, sold in over 70 flavors at failing fast-food chains in over 188 countries, was relaunched this spring as a national brand in the U.S. and is sold in four flavors: orange, strawberry, grapple and pineappleberry.

Pepsi appears to give less than two shits about the new Coke brand. “It seems our idea ‘blue’ them away,� said a Pepsi spokesman, Harvey Pearsons, pausing expectantly for a laugh that never came.

If we’re going to have to choke down blue Fanta when the fifteen year-old vegetable behind the counter puts it in our Icee cup on accident, then will we at least have the consolation of seeing how they work in a blue Fantana — a new member of the fruit rock group created for Fanta’s ad campaign?

“There is a Fantana that represents the four major flavors of the Fanta brand,� Mr. Villanowski said. “They’re not the only ones on the island of Fantana, however, so it wouldn’t surprise me if a berry Fanta eventually joined the Fantanas here in the U.S. for their New Year’s jam with the Cokeanistas and TABBA,� Villanowski continued, getting a paranoid look in his eye. “I’m buying up all the tickets I can so I can scalp them when the time of the concert grows nigh. Then, with that money I can finally quit this lousy job and move to New Zealand, where the Fantanas would never think to look. And I’m bringing lots of bottled water.� Mr. Villanowski continued much like this for about three-quarters of an hour, cutting patterns into his tie with a pair of scissors as the commune news gradually inched its way closer and closer to the door.

ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.

NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded with a patronizing smile and a hand gesture indicating "okaaay."

The debate over the Face has simmered for the last twenty-five years, since NASA's Viking orbiters transmitted pictures of the Cydonia region that appeared to show a half-shadowed, helmeted face staring up from the planet's surface like some kind of cross between Kermit the Frog and Han Solo. Since then, additional formations have been identified as the "Alien Conspiracy Pyramid," "the Mounds of Xena" and so forth — and fans of the Face have argued that the formations showed evidence of a vast Martian civilization populated by breathtaking huge-breasted women incapable of resisting the charms of virginal 30 year-old earth men.

In the past five years, sharper imagery from NASA's Mars Global Surveyor orbiter popped a big-ol' hole in that over-inflated fantasy balloon, confirming the mainstream view that the Face and the other formations were nothing more than a whole lot of wind-eroded dirt, much like everything else on Mars. But die-hard fans of the Face refused to give up hope, disregarding the newer photos as hoaxes and propaganda, and confusing everyone in their apartment buildings by going as "The Face" for Halloween.

The new Mars Odyssey images are unique in that they were taken using infrared light, unlike the visible light used for the Viking and Global Surveyor images of Cydonias. This allowed for day or night photography unhindered by shadows. Many fans of the Face, however, took issue with NASA's methodology.

"We got gypped," griped Thomas Reinhold of Jackson, Miss. "They totally lead us to believe they were going to be doing some nighttime infrared imagery, not just daytime. What if the face only comes out at night? Didn't think of that, did you, NASA?"

"He said what?" questioned Tony Rice, a member of the Arizona State University imaging team that worked with NASA on the project. "Jesus. Thanks to AOL, every kind of mook can get on the net now."

The Arizona State imaging research team denied any unique features belonging to the mesas that make up the Face. "What do we have to do, draw you people a map?" Rice questioned. "Oh, wait, that's right. We already did that. Morons."

No stranger to being called morons, the Face fans press on with their hunt for the truth.

"Those white-coated government lackeys over at NASA can conspiratize all they want, but we know the truth," boasted Elmer Noonan of Vine Grove, KY. "We've seen the pictures. The first picture, anyway. All the other ones after that were bullshit. A total governmental cover-up, straight out of the handbook. If it hadn't been for that Libertarian dude working at NASA back in '76, we never would have got to see that original image of the face. I bet those NASA guys have been kicking themselves every day since they released that thing. Ha. Jerks."

"We're putting new stuff out there every day for the public to look at," Rice said while playing with a hole in the bottom of his shoe. "I don't know what their problem is. Oh, right. The conspiracy. I almost forgot. Well, you're going to have to excuse me while I conspire to drive my shitty little Tercel over to Arby's and eat a roast beef sandwich for lunch."

I woke up the other day, took a look around and was hit with one shocking ass-wiper of a realization, people: We live in one giant fat-assed country. I turn around for five seconds and all of a sudden everybody looks like they just stepped straight out of a family reunion in Wisconsin. I don't know what the hell happened while I was used-car shopping, but it looks like the inmates have taken over the fat farm.

I met a guy down at the DMV the other day who told me he's suing KFC and Burger King for making him fat. I shit you not! Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't think he's got a good case. Because believe me when I tell you that this motherfucker is fat. Some people gradually get fat when they're not looking, others pack on the pounds while they're testing how little physical activity they can get away with in life. Not this guy, though, he's go-for-broke, may-the-biggest-ass-win fat. I mean like "Sizzler takes down the All You Can Eat Shrimp sign when you see him coming" fat. All he needs to do is waddle his big ass into the courtroom and there's going to be no further witnesses on that subject. They may even just settle right then and give him the cash so he doesn't take his jacket off. The whole "proving you're fat" issue that has tied up other lawsuits of this kind is a total non-issue for this guy.

So, he's halfway there. But the problem is, I don't think his case is ever going to make it to trial. Because those fast food titans are some wily folk, smarter than you'd think from the people they hire to work in their restaurants. And they learned an important lesson when Big Tobacco was dragged into the courtroom and had their pants pulled down. See, whenever somebody tries to sue one of those places for selling them the quadruple bacon cheeseburger that broke the camel's back and triggered their thirteenth heart attack, the fast food guys don't panic. They just bide their time, and file a motion here or there, inconspicuously delaying the trial month after month. Eventually they drag out the lawsuit long enough that the plaintiff invariably dies one of those spectacular heart-exploding deaths before the case can go to court.

And you know that Big Tobacco is jealous as all get-out, but unfortunately for them, it doesn't take some poor bastard forty years to die from a Whopper. The fast food companies can play the waiting game and just plain outlast the tubby malcontents, while they sip on their bottles of spring water and ride their elliptical trainers on into the new millennium.

But don't think for a second that I'm one of those smug bastards with the metabolism of a greyhound that's just looking to cash in on America's miserable obesity. Because believe it or not, ladies and gentlemen, Omar Bricks was once a fatass himself. At the age of nine I discovered the joys of whipped cream straight out of the can and before you could say "saturated fat," I was one bulbous, sticky-faced little porkpie. I was teased mercilessly at school, at home and at the beach, and I almost didn't finish grade school since I was so busy pulling retaliatory pranks on all of the skinny little assholes that made my life a rotund living hell.

But this is where the inspiring message comes in, fat Americans. By the age of twelve I had hit rock bottom and I would eat anything, including White Castle burgers. They called the burgers "sliders" back then, and I'll leave it up to your imagination to figure out what that meant, since this is a family website and all. But my point is that when I hit the bottom of my last can of Spray-Whip and there was nothing but cold gasses left, I made a promise to myself that Omar Bricks would never be fat again.

And you know what? It wasn't easy, but I kept good on that promise. It probably helped that I picked up a tapeworm off a White Castle burger around that time and lost about fifty pounds in two weeks, and I haven't been able to eat anything containing meat or grain since, but the point is that I did it. And there's nothing to say that the rest of America can't do the same, assuming that the world's supply of tapeworms isn't dangerously low at the moment or anything freakish like that. I'm not sure where you'd go to find figures on that kind of thing, but I bet the odds are pretty high that somebody out there's some kind of expert on the subject.

So get on it, boys and girls. Omar Bricks knows full well that no diet plan works for everybody, but with a little trial and error I'd bet hard cash money that there's some combination of enemas, tapeworms and bulemia that will turn the trick and punch your ticket back from fatasshood.

Best of luck! Bricks out.

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