Stories Based On Songs #8- Voting Thread

"You going to explain this?" Dallas Riordan dropped a stack of photos on the desk that reverberated around the room.

"Don't answer that!" Claude Unger snapped as he turned to his client. "Mr Wainscroft, you don't have to answer any..."

"Your lawyer's right, Deke. Can I call you Deke? What's that short for?" Dallas leant on the table. "Anyways, you help us, we help you. You turn into a clam then we keep you hear as long as the law allows me too which by my watch, is another twenty hours. But that could go longer."

"You only have the right to hold my client for..."

"Look, all I know is there is a S.H.I.E.L.D agent out there and some woman from the DEA waiting to talk to Deke," Dallas shrugged. "Your buddy plays it quiet, then I'll just hold him for twenty four, then release him to SHIELD who can hold him for like, well for as long as they want really. Probably because he's a terrorist."

"My client is NOT a terrorist!"

"How about a serial killer?" Dallas shoved the photo file across the table.

"Leave."

"I hope you're not talking to me Deke," Dallas replied as she pulled out a chair to take a seat. "Because there's pretty much no effing way that's going to happen."

"As your court ap..."

"Leave!" Wainscroft seethed as he gripped the table. "Leave! Leave! Leave!"

"I think, maybe, just maybe, he wants you to go," Dallas smiled sarcastically and pointed at the door.

"I'll be just outsid..."

"LEAVE!!" Deke stood up. Dallas quickly stepped between the client and consul.

"He heard you," Dallas said. "Now settle down."

Quickly Unger left and Deke resumed his seat.

"Okay let's make sure of a few things. Now I'm sure you've been Mirandarised, which is advised of your rights, yes?"

"Yes."

"Thought so, which is why I thought it odd you just waived your right to legal counsel," Dallas shrugged. "But you're a smart guy. So, have you had a look at the photos?"

"No."

"Well Deke, now's your chance. Honestly I'd happily leave you alone with these but procedure and protocol states I've got to stay here and watch you look at them. Now, you don't have too, I'm not forcing you, you look or don't look it's...oh you're looking, well I'll just shut up."

Dallas watched the strange weedy man in his late forties as he flipped through brutal picture after picture they way you'd flip through a magazine at the doctors surgery. There was an out of place smile on his lips, matched with the incessant tapping of his foot on the floor.

"So, anything you want to say?"

Deke glared at her. "No."

"Really? How about the one you're on. That's...sorry it's upside down, can you read the name?"

"Monica Garcia. Aged fourteen."

"Hmm interesting," Dallas mused. "As you can see by that photo she's in a pretty bad way."

Deke shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's not a bad way?"

"I've..." Deke stopped himself.

"You've what Deke?"

Deke Wainscroft pushed the file away then leant back, smile on his face.

"Oh don't leave me hanging Dekey," Dallas goaded. "You were about to tell me something."

Deke shook his head. "Can you make deals?"

"Nope! I'm a cop, not a lawyer. You want a deal, then you tell me something good, something really useful and then the DA decides whether or not it's worth changing a death penalty into a life senten..."

"Death penalty?"

Dallas smiled. "Yeah. There's nine dead girls in the folder in front of you. My guess is that is just some. Because often with serial killers we don't catch a few of their kills or they're attributed to other killers. Like that nutbag Cletus Kasaday, remember him? Red hair, looks like a weasel."

"I want my lawyer," Deke said.

"Thought you might." Dallas sneered. "But before I go get him, question for you..."

"Yes." Deke stared deep into Dallas' eyes.

"That picture of the girl," Dallas tapped the folder. "The one with all her fingers popped off..."

"Monica Garcia. What of her?"

"How'd you know her name?" Dallas glared back at him.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb now Deke! None of the pictures have names on them. So the only way you'd know her name, considering how butchered she is, would be if you were here parents or the sick effing bastard who killed her!"

"I..." Deke began to sweat and panic. "Lawyer! I want my lawyer!"

"You're goddam right you want a lawyer!" Dallas threw open the door to the interrogation room as Unger stormed back in. "Better inform your client that he's going to be arrest for the murder of Monica Garcia."

"This is a disgusting police trick to..."

Dallas stormed across the room and bailed Unger up against the wall. "You know what's disgusting is that you're going to defend this finger poppin bastard! You make a living off defending these effing monsters! How do you sleep at night huh?"

"That's enough Detective!" barked Captain Enrique D'Angelo as he entered the room along with two SHIELD agents.

"As you can see Captain," Dallas backed away hands in the air. "I didn't actually touch him, did I?"

Captain D'Angelo sighed as Dallas stood next to him. "Good work Detective," he whispered. "Now go get that warrant for h..."

"Ive done this a few times Enrique," Dallas smiled as Lieutenant Molly Von Richthofen tapped on the door frame waving a piece of paper.

"Ready to roll when you are," Molly said.

"See you Deke," Dallas called and waved.

Fallout 3- Finger Poppin' Time

Capitol Wasteland- Paradise Falls

Dr. Finger stood on the balcony of Eulogy Jones pad, which had once been a theatre. He looked out at the little slaver settlement of Paradise Falls that he called home. Slavers herding their captors towards the slave pens, while others just mill about the town.

Carolina Red, a particularly evil slaver, saunters up to the makeshift bar and grill, slaps the simple minded slaver, Jotun on the butt. Jotun's father, Ymir, laughs at this. "That's my boy. Real lady killer like his dad." Ymir yells as he walks over to Carolina Red and puts an arm on her side.

Carolina pulls her knife out and points it between Ymir's eyes. "Touch me again and you'll regret it. I'd gladly give your boy some action, not you old man."

Ymir laughs and backs away. "All in good fun." Turning to the slave bartender, Frank, he yells, "Hey little bartender. Pour the woman a glass, on me."

"Yes, sir." Frank replies as he grabs a glass and pours some beer. Frank is wearing a slave collar, like all the slaves of Paradise Falls. If he were to tamper with it or try to run away from the town, it would explode.

Ymir stares at Frank as he pours the beer. "Don't you dare spill any of that, little bartender. I better not see any extra foam either." Ymir grabs his specially designed super sledge off his back and waves it in Frank's face. "You hear me little bartender? I've crushed men's heads in just for looking at me wrong."

Frank kept his eyes down and handed Ymir the glass of beer. "Here you are, sir."

Ymir grabbed the glass from Frank, then turned to find Carolina Red, who was busy torturing some slave herself. Ymir shrugged and drank the beer himself.

Just a typical day in Paradise Falls, Dr. Finger thought.

Dr. Finger looked up towards the Paradise Falls entrance. Forty and his gang came bustling in with some new captures. There was one prisoner in particular who caught his interest. A man wearing a Vault 101 jumpsuit.

Forty brought the vault dweller into Eulogy Jones pad and locked him into a private room.

Eulogy Jones walked up to Dr. Finger. "We're going to need your expertise. This new prisoner Forty brought in had a lot of caps and weapons on him. He might have some good info. Looks like he came from a Vault too. Vault dwellers always make for good crops."

Dr. Finger smiled as he finished drinking his morning whiskey. "It's about time you gave me something fun to do."

**

The vault dweller sat tied to a chair in the dark room. There was one window showing the gigantic Ice Cream Boy statue. The door opened up. Dr. Finger walked in.

He had blonde hair, wore glasses and a field medics outfit. He carried a bag with him and a holo-disk player.

He put the holo-disk on a table, laid out his bag, full of blunt instruments, knives and various other torture devices.

"Hello, vault dweller. My name is Dr. Finger," he said as he picked up a wrench. "I'm the Paradise Falls chief interrogator. I'll be asking you some questions. If you do not answer me, I will hurt you. If you answer me and I think you are lying I will hurt you. If you answer me correctly.. well, I'm going to be honest with you. No matter what you do, I will hurt you. The extent of how badly I hurt you, depends on how honest I believe you to be. Before we start, I like to get to know my patients. What is your name?"

The vault dweller looked up and smiled. "You can call me the Lone Wanderer."

Dr. Finger laughed. "Lone Wanderer? Well, that's not your name. That's your first lie."

He turned on the holo-disk player, held up the wrench with his left hand and started snapping his fingers with his right. "It's finger poppin' time!"

'Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now'

Dr. Finger grabbed the Lone Wanderer's right hand, placed the wrench on his pinky finger and twisted upwards. The Lone Wanderer screamed in pain.

'It's finger pop, poppin' time'

Dr. Finger laughed with glee, as he placed the wrench on the Lone Wanderer's ring finger.

'Finger Poppin', poppin' time'

Another scream.

'I feel so good'

As Dr. Finger places the wrench on the middle finger, he doesn't notice the Lone Wanderer's other hand sliding a combat knife, dubbed Occam's Razor, from his sleeve. He begins cutting the ties binding his hand.

'And that's a real good sign'

"You ready to start talking, Lone Wanderer?" Dr. Finger yelled in his face. "Where is Vault 101?"

The Lone Wanderer freed his left hand and punched Dr. Finger in the face. The interrogator fell to the ground.

'Here comes May and here comes Sue,

Here comes Johnny and Bobby too'

The Lone Wanderer took the wrench off his middle finger and untied himself. He stood up and walked over to the table. There were some stimpacks on the table. He grabbed one and injected himself with it. His fingers were fixed up immediately.

"Stimpacks are a wonderful thing." he looked down at Dr. Finger as he started to get up. "You must use these to revive your victims, then torture them some more."

He grabbed Dr. Finger and sat him down on the chair.

"What.. what do you want?" Dr. Finger asked.

The Lone Wanderer smiled.

'It's finger pop, poppin' time'

"Wait. Don't hurt me. I can get you out of here," Dr. Finger pleaded. "I can get you anything you want. Caps, girls. Did you see those slave girls, Crimson and Clover. I can get Eulogy to give you Clover. Whatever you want."

"Sonora Cruz told me about you." The Lone Wanderer said. "You really are an evil bastard."

Dr. Finger recognized the name from other men he had tortured. "Sonora Cruz? The leader of the Regulators? You're one of them?"

"Not an official member. I suppose you can call me a Lawbringer." explained the Lone Wanderer as he held up Occam's Razor.

"Hey now, stop." Dr. Finger pleaded some more. "I'm telling you, whatever you want, I can get it for you. Hey now.."

"There's only one thing I want from you Dr. Finger." the Lone Wanderer said as he sliced Dr. Finger's throat.

'I feel so good'

The Lone Wanderer grabbed Dr. Finger's right hand and cut off his fingers.

'And that's a real good sign'

**

Regulator HQ

"You're requested bounty." the Lone Wanderer said, as he threw a sack on Sonora Cruz's desk.

Sonora Cruz looked in the bag and poured it on the desk. "Dr. Finger's fingers. That must have been difficult." She reached into her desk and placed fifty bottle caps before the Lone Wanderer.

"You know, I believe I have Very Good karma." The Lone Wanderer said.

Sonora Cruz sighed. "Yeah, you're right. You've been doing some good stuff out there in the Wasteland."

She reached back in her desk and pulled out fifty more caps. "Here. Hundred caps. Keep up the good work."

"Got anything else for me?" he asked.

She pulled out a bounty notice. "I've got a good one here. Junders Plunkett. Wanted for theft and murder in Canterbury Commons. There's a special reward for this raider scum. One of my benefactor's is willing to pay big for this. I'll give you a thousand caps for his finger. Last known location is Arlington. Tough place to get to."

The Lone Wanderer took his caps and the bounty notice. He walked out of the Regulator's HQ and started his journey towards Arlington.

He snapped his fingers as he walked.

'Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now..'

Finger Poppin' Web Slingin' Time

He felt the wind flow past his face as he unclasped his fingers from the thin strand of webbing he left glistening in the moonlight behind him.

He was Peter Parker, a superhero with all the problems that come with being a young adult. But today, it didn't matter, his cherry red mask hid the smile which lit up his face as he soared through the air.

To him it never got old, today was finally a day where he was free, he was happy. Everything was going his way. J. Jonah Jamerson had only yelled at him once today for being late. And Harry and Mary Jane had invited for a night of partying.

There was a familiar thwip when his trusty web shooter unleashed the line which gripped a streetlight and prevented the ground from embracing the Spider-Man. He was like Tarzan, swinging through the urban jungle which was New York City.

His Spider Sense guided his movement as he crawled down into an alley way. Ducking out of view behind a dumpster, Peter removed and changed into a dark red shirt and blue jeans which he removed from a from the bag he had strapped to his back.

Today reminded him of a song his dear Uncle Ben often loved to listen to.

Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now. It's finger pop poppin' time. Finger pop poppin' time.

The tune continued to play in his head as he passed by the many strangers preoccupied with their own issues. Some out for a good time, some rushing back home from work.

Peter briefly thought about breaking into a dance but dismissed the idea as soon as it entered his mind. The spider bite may have cured his vision, but it had not cured his two left feet.

"About time tiger." said a beautiful red haired girl. She was Mary Jane, the girl Peter had an immensely large crush on.

The familiar voice broke Peter out of his euphoria.

"Hey, Pete what kept you?" asked a brown haired young man. He was Harry Osbourne, Peter's best friend.

"Oh, nothing, just traffic."

"Well what are we waiting for? Friday night won't last forever! Let's go!" said Mary Jane as she and Harry entered the club.

Peter could not believe he was doing this, he usually wasn't a social butterfly but today was different. It was time to stop worrying and start living.

As he was about to enter, the familiar screech of police sirens hummed in the distance.

Oh well, nothing lasts forever.