Mister Ramp

June 18th, 2005 | brainjuice

Mister Ramp’s hair was a vile toxic orange. As were his large, unblinking eyes. As, indeed, was his penis, painted in a sticky antiseptic emulsion to defeat the various Shagging Diseases that remained rife in the Sexual Underworld.

Mister Ramp’s business card proclaimed his vocation to be Colossal Pervert. And all on the Scene knew that Mister Ramp pursued his hideous trade with the zeal of a priest. If a priest’s holy chores involved projecting his lunch into the anuses of badly confused teenage girls from Hungary.

Mister Ramp’s peculiar diet had been the talk of the Sexual Mutant Business for some years. It had even been the subject of one of his many Specialist Videos; the singular cinematic artifact named “Burning Dadpaste.” Some say he can be seen at night wandering into chemical waste dumps with a straw. Others say he’s been witnessed sitting by fresh graves with a knife and fork, smiling politely. Most confess to have watched in admiration and horror as his flying man-batter has seared the paint off walls, melted glass and turned stainless steel soft and black. And all agree that Mister Ramp once used his bizarre spermatic fluids to euthanise a puppy that was thrashing in terminal panic while lodged in the rectum of a German gentleman called Heinz.

Mister Ramp’s penis casts a shadow over the Adult business. Quite literally, if he stands on high ground at noon. Strong men weep and cut themselves in bad places when Mister Ramp demonstrates arcane penile skills learned in Japan and Tibet, using his warrior’s member to snap wood, bricks and sports utility vehicles. Several starlets — three of whom have been since removed to asylums by their families — claim to have seen it conduct lightning. Some producers have begun to sheathe the member in large burlap sacks previous to performances, to prevent other participants prostrating themselves in Religious Awe, and also to stay the occasional manifestation of Miracles in its presence.

Mister Ramp is a Hero of the Humping Industry, loved by the twinks and the coprophages, adored by the size queens and the gangbangers, cherished by the gonzo and the semen shooters. His kindness is the stuff of legend, and the whores kiss him in the street since that mythic day when he crushed a pimp’s spine using only the frighteningly overdeveloped muscles in his buttocks.

Mister Ramp is a Superhero of modern pornography. He is Omnisexual, and can obtain erections of historical significance with no more provocation than the sight of naked fungus. He is a countercultural God in Iceland, where the band Múm’s song “Takk Mister Ramp” became a massive hit following his specialist videos for that country’s market, “Mister Ramp Gives It To Various Species Of Tree That Don’t Grow Here Anymore” and “Mister Ramp Fills The Volcano.”

Mister Ramp lives alone in a quiet area of Los Angeles. He is addicted to Vicodin and has never had a girlfriend. And never will.

(c) Warren Ellis / written November 2004


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