Scott L. Super Cool J. — Number One Raider

Scott L. Super Cool J. — Number One Raider. Pistols ready. Gunslinger. Legendary Sharpshooter. Serpent Slayer. You don’t want to mess with him in a gunfight at high noon because he’s bad. Real bad. He’s got laser eyes that’ll burn a hole through your heart, just like Superman, and all the ladies are hypnotized by his moves—or should I say, his flight. Like Michael Jordan and Mick Jagger, the world is his funky stage, and the ladies blush and whisper, “Oh — Scott L. Super Cool J.” He’s got no rhyme, rhythm, nor a dime to his name. He’s just Scott L., Super Loopy, Cool J. There’s no need, ’cause friends give in—their beach house, their superfine bourbon, Kentucky straight whiskey. All because Scott L. is Super Cool J. All the mothers, hide your daughters, because Scott L. Super Cool J. is coming to town at high noon. Gunslinger. Eagle Laser-Eyed. Sharpshooter. Funky Scott L. Super Cool J. Writer, poet, pioneer of legendary hyper-fantasy. Now that’s really funky bad, shorty. Something like that. From the S… to the J… he’s Scott L. Super Cool J.