Hey, folks. Oscuro asked me to do the voting thread. The theme was crossover of established characters, and of course it had to have an original character (OC). I'm pressed for time this morning, so do the votey thing:
The voting rules:
- READ the stories, PICK your favorite one, and CAST your VOTE!
- If you wrote, you should vote! (It's just sporting)
- No voting for yourself. (Also sporting)
- The voting deadline is Sunday, October 6, 2019, @11:59PM New York time (click the link if you're unsure).
Remember: , and the winner gets to pick the next contest.
|Cbishop - Wild Dog and The Punisher: Doubling Down! The Return and Retreat of Killer Bea|
Sitting together in the red truck, the man in the hockey mask and jersey asked the man with the skull on his shirt, "Tell me again how we got this?"
Loading bullets into his clip, the man with the skull on his shirt answered, "The Legonzas recently lost their boy, Joey - a trafficker of girls, and general scumbag.* The Carmontis recently lost their capo, courtesy of yours truly. Now--"
"--Wait a minute! You killed Carmonti? That's my girl's father, man!"
The man looked up from his gun. "You care?"
The other tsked from behind his mask. "Nah, man. She's gone, thanks to jerks after that douchebag. Him and everyone like him can go straight to hell for all I care. Just surprised is all, Frank."
"It's Punisher, Wild Dog. At least while we're doing this."
Wild Dog scoffed. "Sure. Whatever."
Frank nodded towards the clubhouse of the White Pines Country Club. "Anyway, sending everyone like him to hell is exactly why we're here. This wedding is meant to cement their families together. I don't plan to let that happen. Time to crash the party."
Wild Dog popped the clip into his machine pistol, and checked his nine millimeter. "I'm all about that."
"Let's go," said Frank, and they both got out of the truck and headed for the clubhouse.
They had barely gone twenty yards when security noticed them coming. Frank shot one, Wild Dog shot another, and then the Punisher lobbed a grenade straight for the clubhouse. It landed five feet from one of the floor-to-ceiling windows near the main ballroom. It both fragged the security in range, and blew them an entryway through the glass and brick.
The clubhouse was thrown into a panic. While most scrambled for other exits besides the one made by the grenade, surviving security started trying to find positions to fire from. Punisher and Wild Dog were taking them out pretty easily- adrenaline giving them laser-like focus.
Until they heard a woman from inside scream, "Hold your fire! Those motherfuggers are MINE!" As the firing died down, a woman in a form fitting, black-and-yellow striped dress stepped out of the gunsmoke, and through the gaping hole in the wall.
Wild Dog stopped short, and threw his mask off to get a better look. "No way! Beatrix?! Is that you?"
"What the--? Rene? What the fug are you doing here?" she said.
"You two need a minute?" Punisher asked with a growl.
"Oh, sh!t!" Beatrix said when she saw the Punisher. She dove behind a huge cement planter for cover.
Rene looked at him and shrugged, "Hey, man, look at her. Back in the day, we had a thing, y'know?"
Punisher scowled. "Jack Wheeler must be turning over in his grave."
"Hey. Fug you, man," Rene said, pulling his mask back down. "Not everyone hates their past, ass."
Without another word, they stalked forward as one.
"Castle! I've had about enough of you," shouted Beatrix. "You're making me look bad!"
"Killer Bea," said Frank. "It's not me. It's that dress. You really got married in that?"
"I'm the maid of honor!" she shouted, firing a few shots from behind the planter.
"Demoted from bodyguard, then?" Frank called, provoking her.
Killer Bea screamed, then shouted, "Kiss" blam "my" blam "black" blam "and yellow" blam "ass" blam "bitch!" klik
"Damn, Bea!" called Wild Dog. "Sounds like the only thing you're shootin' off now is your mouth!"
A nine millimeter came spinning through the air from the middle of the topiary in the planter. "You're still an ass!" she screamed as she ran low behind the patio wall, heading for the parking lot.
"Say hi to your sister for me!" Wild Dog called back.
"You mother..." Bea trailed off as she got further away.
Wild Dog looked back at Frank, who was still scowling. He shrugged. "I make no apologies, man. She was fun."
Frank said nothing.
"So was her sister."
Cocking his head towards the ballroom, Frank seethed, "Can we get back to this now?"
Wild Dog snickered, refreshing his clip. "Sure, man. Hey! Jagoffs! You know she bailed on you, right?" A few shots rang out towards them. "Yeah, I think they know."
They moved in towards the patio as they started to take out shooters again. Finally, Frank smiled.
|Batkevin74 - (untitled) [OC's: Captain Tanmo, Nkrumah Ayobe, Dr Mikhail Stakanski and his daughter Kadence.]|
John Wick sat at the bar; his hands nursing a glass of neat Scotch. Footsteps approached and the stool next to him was occupied.
“Hello, Mr Wick.”
“Hello, Angus,” John raised his glass to the owner of the London Branch. “Is everything okay?”
“Perfectly,” Angus replied as he beckoned for a drink. “There’s a young lady in the general bar who has a business proposition for you. Are you available?”
“Well, I’ll send her in.” Angus took his drink glass and limped away. John finished his drink and tapped the lip for another.
“Mr Wick,” the voice was female; almost like silk. “My name is Kadence Stakanski.”
“Stakan… Glass in Russian,” John noted.
“What do you want?”
“I need you to kill my father,” she said directly as she slid over two gold coins cross the bar. “Is this enough?”
John looked at the coins and shook his head. “Tell me about him, your father.”
James Bond sat himself on the desk and smiled.
“You’re late,” Moneypenny said as she jabbed him in the ribs with a pen.
“Now that you’ve poked me…” James said cheekily.
“James!” Moneypenny blushed. “She’s with Q at the moment but you can go in.”
James leant in and hovered, not whispering in her ear nor kissing her cheek. “You. Are a wonder,” he whispered before exiting into M’s office leaving Moneypenny to watch him and undress him with her eyes.
M glowered at her favourite and also least favourite Double 0 agent as she listened to the Quartermaster’s report. Bond calmly waited at the back of the room until she was ready.
“Sit!” M snapped like she was talking to a dog.
James obediently sat next to Q. “Good mor-”
M held up her hand and shuffled forward in her chair. “You are this close to being a crossing guard! You have used up all your lives, James!”
“What did you do now, Double Oh Seven?” asked Q curiously.
“My job,” James said confidently.
“Really?” M stated. “This is your new assignment…”
Island of Imbros, Aegean Sea
Dr Mikhail Stakanski, head of SPECTRE’s bio-weapons division, monitored the lab as a dozen hermetically sealed assistants moved chemicals about the enclosed room. Next to him stood a large African man in a fine suit; Nkrumah Abioye, who was in charge of the laboratory site. Beside them stood the towering figure of Jaws; a beast of a man in a dinner suit with metallic teeth and mandible, and shadowing all of them was a man dressed in black body armour. On a monitor on the wall was the torso of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, head of the terror organisation, with his white Persian cat sitting calmly in his arms.
“Rage mist…” Blofeld commented sceptically from afar.
“I could explain the chemical compositions but essentially yes,” Stakanski said. “The toxin is absorbed via the skin or airways which affects the brain sending those exposed to into a heightened state, usually anger.”
“Does it mix with alcohol?” Blofeld asked. “We are going to spray this over a stadium full of inebriated football hooligans.”
“From the trials I’ve conducted, yes. It actually enhances it in some cases.”
“Then I shall leave this in your capable hands, Nkrumah,” Blofeld said before winking out.
“Excellent!” Nkrumah said. “Are you and your team ready, Captain Tamno?”
The man in black stepped forward and gave a chest salute with a bow. “Yes sir. I await your orders.”
“Once Dr Stakanski has finalised putting the chemicals into the barrels, you will be heading to your target.” Nkrumah smiled
John Wick sat down in first class, noting that it was virtually empty asides from the man in the grey pinstripe suit sitting across from him. James Bond noted the new passenger in black as he sipped his bottle of Heineken. The assassin and the secret agent gave each other the once over before their attention was diverted by the pair of extremely attractive stewardesses giving the safety demonstration.
-This is your captain speaking. We’ll be taking off shortly. According to the tower, we might catch a tailwind as we get over the Alps, but I’ll keep you informed once we are airborne. So, please relax and enjoy the flight-
“Martini, shaken not stirred,” said the stewardess as she placed it beside John.
“Oh, I didn’t order this,” John said with polite reluctance.
“I did!” James interrupted as he crossed the cabin. “Bond. James Bond.”
“John Wick.” The handshake between them spoke volumes. “Thank you, James. Cheers.”
The agent and the assassin drank to each other and soon they were alone in first class.
“Business or pleasure in Greece?” James asked as he wandered to the highbacked chairs located at the front of the plane.
“Business. Always business.” John said. “You?”
“Hopefully both,” James smiled. “What do you do?”
“Hotel management,” John replied as he placed the martini away from him. “You?”
“Universal Exports, part of Transworld Consortium. Import, export.”
The pair paused to absorb the others lies when the stewardess approached them. “Anything else gentlemen?”
James smiled like the Devil.
(And this it where it ended…honestly in my mind it’s an epic but it just couldn’t make the journey from brain to fingers to paper in time due to a combination of life and laziness! So the outline went like this:
The plane is shot out of the sky forcing our heroes to escape; Wick leaps out whilst Bond safely crash lands the plane. Both land on the island. Cut to bad guys explaining why and it was simply an overzealous SPECTRE employee who gets brutally killed by Captain Tamno.
Each invade the complex moving through until they meet each other in the corridor, exchange witty remarks but are surrounded. Wick says he could take them, but Bond disagrees. Plan is revealed to them, and then they are taken away to be tortured. They escape and manage to get onto a plane full of rage mist to attempt to prevent the attack, there are four. They subdue the first crew easily.
Wick grabs a sniper rifle and kills the kills the pilot and co-pilot of another plane. Bond then dumps the rage mist onto the 3rd plane causing them to crash leaving on last plane. Wick leaps out with a chute to invade the other plane, Bond goes follow suit but has to fight Tamno in the bomb bay in dramatic fashion.
Wick invades the other plane, kills everyone and confronts Nkrumah. He tries to recruit John but he says he only does one job at a time. Fights, blood, and in the end our heroes parachute to safety. SPECTRE is defeated. Epilogue, Dr Stakanski raises a glass of champagne with his daughter when suddenly a butterknife comes out his skull; John Wick has stabbed him through the head. He glares at Kadence. “Start talking 0013…” he spits at her.
That’s how it would’ve gone…it didn’t. It’s a half-done story with an explanation. Hopefully enjoyable
Original characters were: Captain Tanmo, Nkrumah Ayobe, Dr Mikhail Stakanski and his daughter Kadence.
|TommytheHitman - Marvock the Warlock!|
The warlock's name was Morvock and he had been born in the desert. His parents had been scum, mere bandits who had long since died and left their son with the sole piece of knowledge that would shape and steer his life going forward.
'Bow before no gods, son.' They'd said the eve before he'd slit their throats.
Yet in a way that was precisely what Morvock had done with himself. In the long time that he'd been alive Marvock had prayed to all the gods above and below the ground with all his prayers bearing the same wish: a wish for more power. Yet there had never in all Morvock's years been a single response. He'd come across power on his own, of course. In his old age Marvock had learned to conjure fire from the blackest realms, summon creatures that made men weak and even learned to extend his own life at the cost of others.
Yet none of it was enough.
'I want to live forever.' Morvock had told one of his victims on a dull, dry evening. 'There's too much to do and not enough time to do it in.' Then he'd ripped the man apart and left him out for the vultures.
All of this had lead Morvock to one final, desperate act. He sat now in a sand dune that seemed to overlook the world, and it was atop this dune that he prayed to the one god he'd been told to never pray to.
'Crom.' Morvock said as he dug his fingers deep into the sand. 'Hear my plea!'
Crom was a god who lived atop a mountain, and the stories said that he was very cruel. He gave men courage when they were born but that was all, and if you dared disturb Crom with something as worthless as a prayer it was said he would enact terrible, terrible punishment upon the culprit that would make them wish for death.
'Grant me the power to live forever.' Morvock begged whilst bowing his head. 'Do so and I shall be your servant for now and for the rest of all time!' He raised his head up from the ground expecting to see almighty Crom peering down at him, yet there was nothing before the warlock but the clear blue sky.
A scorpion, curious by what it saw wandered next to the kneeling warlock and jabbed at his robes with its pincers. In his frustration Morvock gripped the creature by its stinger and ripped its tail off before swallowing the still living creature whole. He wiped his dry lips clean of the creature's jellies and began to ponder his next move.__ It came as quite a surprise when he found that his next thought was not his own.
'North.' The thought said. And Morvock decided it could only be the voice of Crom.
'Thank you my Lordgod.' He said while standing up. His robes and leggings were covered in sand but he cared not. 'I shall not forget this.' He promised. And he definitely wouldn't.
Morvock walked north for what seemed to be the longest of times.
He was used to long journeys but as days under the hot sun turned into nights under a freezing moon a sliver of doubt filled Morvock's mind. 'Perhaps Crom was mocking him?' He wondered on those cold nights with naught but his robes to keep him warm. 'Maybe he was merely this cruel god's source of entertainment.' Yet Morvock continued his journey, and after many nights of walking his determination was rewarded.
He stood atop a sand dune overlooking some strange, savage swamp land that sat amidst the desert and Morvock knew instantly that it was what he had been searching for. He recognized this place from a scroll he'd pried from the hands of a dying man and a smile broke out across his crusted, hairy lips.
'The Nexus of All Realities.' He muttered, exhausted beyond measure. The Nexus was a mystic place that linked all of the different universes, dimensions and realities throughout space and time. Surely here in this vast wealth of mystic energy Morvock could find the immortality he was seeking! If he did, Crom would have certainly lived up to his end of the bargain.
Yet as Morvock was about to make his way towards the swamp he spotted something. There was another figure walking, almost limping towards the marshes. He couldn't see Morvock due to the angle he was approaching from but Morvock could see him, and the warlock's smile quickly faded at this intrusion. He watched the stranger shamble awkwardly into the swamp's trees before vanishing and Morvock felt renewed energy fill him. His smile returned to his face.
It had been so long since he'd taken part in a bit of murder.
Conan hadn't gotten lost in the desert before.
Though he hailed from a world of mountains and snow the Cimmerian had always found the empty ocean of sand easy to navigate which was why he'd been caught off guard when the tenth day of his travels had come and there wasn't a single town or city in sight! His horse had passed on the eleventh day, and he'd been forced to drop most of his equipment and weapons in order to conserve energy.
He'd been thankful for the swamp once he saw it. Swamps meant water no matter how filthy and Conan, to put it mildly, was thirsty. He stumbled through the trees using the last recesses of his energy and finally came to a clearing. In his mad, desperate glances for water Conan noticed a myriad of strange colors hovering before him, but so depraved was his mind of water that he ignored them for the moment, instead diving to the side of a nearby river where he lapped water into his mouth like a thirsty mongrel.
The water was filthy. It was filled with mud, insects and god knows what else, yet it was the best water that Conan had ever tasted.
Conan was a tall fellow, big and strong like the rest of the mountain men that hailed from Cimmeria. He had bronzed skin from his time in the sun, long black hair with a square cut atop his forehead and many, many scars from his days of high adventure. It was because of these adventures that Conan had developed the sharp senses that alerted him to the footsteps coming from somewhere at his back. He took one final gulp of water and then used the natural grace of a jungle cat to leap to safety as a burst of orange flame struck the riverbed where he'd been resting.
Now aware of his attacker the Cimmerian spun around to face his foe and found himself face to face with Morvock! Though he didn't know his attacker's name at the time Conan immediately knew he was facing a practitioner of dark magic as the warlock emerged from the treeline with his palm outstretched, a small snake coiled around his wrist and a nasty smile upon the man's face.
It was only now that Conan truly noticed where he was. He and his opponent were stood upon the remains of some sort of massacre, with hundreds of skeletons (some human and some... not) covering the floor by their feet. Yet before Conan could take in the rest of his surroundings Morvock was already launching into his next attack.
'Who are you?!' Conan demanded, his fingers quickly gripping a rusted longsword that lay by his feet. The warlock said nothing and continued to smile, excited. He thrust his wrist forward and the tiny green snake fell to the ground. As it fell the snake began to change and(Conan had to blink to be sure) began to grow to a size easily equal to the Cimmerian if not more.
Conan gripped his longsword, the giant snake slithered towards him with a growing hunger in its black, evil eyes.
'Crom!' The Cimmerian cursed, invoking the name of his god as he often did. He stood his ground as the slithering beast approached, focusing not on the fear deep in his chest but instead on the situation at hand. The two seemed to lock eyes for a moment, a long, drawn out moment, and then finally the snake lunged, fangs stretching out with a triumph in its eyes.
Yet Conan was no stranger to such battles and at the last possible moment stepped out of the monster's path.
A surprised, confused look filled the snake's eyes that would have made Conan laugh had he not been so determined to win. He brought his sword down on the snake's neck in a single, clean swipe and smiled proudly as its head and body fell separately to the ground with a soft thump!
Yet Conan had no time to enjoy the victory. He felt cold, dark magic grip at his throat and found that he could not breathe. Morvock stepped into his view, clawed hand extended as if he were strangling the barbarian yet holding nothing in truth. The two locked eyes and Morvock asked his questions.
'Why did you invoke my Lordgod's name?!' He demanded, slightly releasing his mystical grip on Conan's neck.
'Cr... Crom.... is my... god.' Conan gasped, turning pale. For the first time in an eternity Morvock looked surprised. So surprised he released his grip on Conan and let him drop to the ground.
'Perhaps he's testing me.' Morvock said, a sentence meant purely for himself but heard by Conan nonetheless.
'You... think Crom is testing you?' Conan asked, throat aching terribly. Morvock looked down at the barbarian in disgust.
'Yes. I prayed to him and now he has led me here, to my destiny.'
And somehow Conan began to laugh. It was a loud, noisy thing that resembled the pounding of war drums and shook the trees and filled Morvock with hate.
'Crom does not care about you or me or any of us.' He said.'He gives us a single gift when we are born and then leaves us to our fates! And if Crom has sent you here, fool, it is to die!"
And as if on cue a mass of living rot and vegetation emerged from the tree line, smashing through the wooden pillars as if they were made of paper! The beast's red eyes only seemed to hint at the rage it was feeling.
It wasn't the fighting that awoke the Man-Thing but the laughter.
It had been in the midst of a deep sleep but the laughter that shook the trees had awoken it and brought its head up from underneath the swampy marsh it called home. Feeling angered by its awakening the creature followed the sound to its source and found two figures standing in the Nexus' gateway.
Letting its feral instinct take over the creature began to charge towards the intruders but felt something akin to surprise when it realized neither of its newfound foes were feeling surprise in its presence, an effect it normally had unwanted guests.
The large one sitting upon the ground was filled to the brim with the anger, while the other one in the robes was feeling something similar to excitement.
It was the other one that moved first. He flicked his wrist at the creature and sent a torrent of flame from his sleeve that set the Man-Thing's grassy skin alight! The creature made a sound similar to a scream but kept moving and, using a fist the size of a boulder knocked the surprised warlock across the swamp towards one of the Nexus' many dimensional gateways. It was these gateways that had been the strange colors Conan had briefly noted earlier, though the Man-Thing was not aware of this and never would be.
It was said by the educated and cultured that those who knew fear often burned at the Man-Thing's touch, but those who didn't still knew a good thrashing. Morvock certainly knew one as his body slammed into a tree and he lay silent. The Man-Thing turned to the large one now. He was already on his feet, gripping a sword that had belonged to one of the creature's previous victims and saying something that sounded like gibberish to the creature but roughly translated to:
'It's some sort of giant sized... thing!'
And then the creature attacked, fury guiding its every thought and action. Its fists flew towards their target yet none found their mark as the man ducked, dived and dodged out of the way. Then pain, however brief, filled the Man-Thing's body as the steel of the large one's sword chopped quickly at the creature's singed body. These quick strikes were largely ineffective though as the Man-Thing simply regrew whatever body parts were damaged by the Cimmerian's strikes.
That being said the attacks were quite irritating, and the Man-Thing lunged at his opponent with a renewed venom.
Morvock watched the fight with a certain degree of interest. He should have expected the Guardian of the Nexus to show up, but in his excitement had completely forgotten the creature existed.
From his slump upon the ground he observed that Conan the Cimmerian was too fast for even the Man-Thing to catch, moving with the same grace and skill that he'd avoided Morvock's firebolt earlier. Yet the sword and therefore Conan himself were doing little to no damage to the creature and it seemed the two were at an impasse, though neither would admit it. The Man-Thing as it had been described had the strength of at least a hundred men and could easily kill most opponents with a single blow... but only if it could actually hit them.
Morvock had been lucky. His spells had saved him from death, and while he was crippled beyond repair it seemed in the moment that both his foes had forgotten him. Gripping the ground, the warlock began to drag himself towards the nearest Nexus gateway, a shimmering portal with the numbers: '616' engraved into the side.
One thought filled Morvock's mind.
The fight had seemed to be dragging for an eternity and Conan had begun to get bored.
He thrust his sword into one of the Man-Thing's red, bubble eyes and smiled as it popped only to watch it instantly heal as if nothing had happened.
When Morvock began to speak the Cimmerian muttered silent thanks and found with some amusement that both he and the Man-Thing had turned to listen.
Morvock was stood in front of one of the strange lights Conan had noticed earlier. His body had energy of different colors rippling all around it and a manic grin filled the warlock's face.
'I've become a god.' He said, the pain of a broken spine forgotten.'You dull insects can worship me now! And unlike your pathetic god, Crom, who I so easily manipulated I will make you and all the rest of your kind beg fo-' Having heard enough Conan took his sword and threw it at the warlock, feeling smug satisfaction as the blade pierced Morvock's chest. The Cimmerian made a mental note to remember that move for later situations.
Morvock fell to the ground with the sword still in his chest and began to scream.
His recently healed spine was severed once again and he understood in that moment he'd been nothing more than a pawn in Crom's cruel game. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he would soon be dead and began to fear what would come after that. All the power he had earned had been for nothing!
A hand began to reach down toward him and for a moment Morvock thought it belonged to Crom or some other deity escorting him to the afterlife.
He was wrong. The hand belonged to the Man-Thing.
Conan averted his eyes as he watched the acid secrete from the Man-Thing's skin, seeming almost excited by the warlock's suffering. There were some sights too ghastly even for the barbarian and Morvock's shrieks from the sword in his chest were victory enough. Seeing the Man-Thing's attention drawn elsewhere and seeing no further purpose to staying, the Cimmerian took one last look at the creature he'd encountered and stepped out into the desert, somehow knowing that this time he wouldn't get lost.
It was many hours before the creature released its grasp on the screaming warlock by its feet. For some reason the poor fellow just wouldn't die and this frustrated the Man-Thing to no end.
Finally it relented and found itself alone again, the large person it had fought before having left many hours ago. Slowly the creature returned to its resting place knowing full well it could try to kill the warlock again the next day.
Morvock lay upon his back completely blind. The Man-Thing's acid had already dissolved part of his skull yet somehow he still lived.
It dawned on him slowly that his brief attempt at godhood had been a success, he was indeed going to live forever.
It was just a shame he wouldn't be enjoying it.
|Oscuro - Shameful Joy|
Frank Gallagher had never accomplished anything of note in his life. His penchant for engaging in various kinds of criminality has landed him in a myriad of situations. Nothing could prepare him for his latest misadventure.
After another extended drug induced stupor, Frank found himself cuddled up to a dumpster in an alleyway. As he struggles to get to his feet, he notices a police car ride by. "GCPD...Grand Rapids? No that doesn't have a C in it. Ugh, I'm starving."
He wanders into a Chinese restaurant not far away from the alley. (In Mandarin) "Two egg rolls and a pint of Lo mein please."
He checks to make sure no one is looking and stuffs a couple handfuls of duck sauce and soy sauce into his pockets. "Nectar of the gods." He nudges a fellow patron. "Hey buddy, I'm a little low on funds. You wouldn't happen to know where a fella could donate some blood or sperm around here?" The man simply glares at Frank before walking away. "Friendly people in this city."
"Two egg rolls and lo mein." the cashier shouts out. Frank walks over to the counter, his eye widening in shock. "Is that a rat in the kitchen? There's a rat in the kitchen!!" Several hurry over, cell phones in hand hoping to capture the alleged vermin on video. Ever the con man, Frank takes the opportunity to steal the food in the confusion and makes a quick exit.
"Let's see what my fortune is." Frank says before cramming a fortune cookie in his mouth. The fortune reads: Peace resides in a happy home. "Whatever that means." Frank scoffs as he shoves an eggroll into his mouth.
He steps out into the street and is nearly struck by a car, his food flying onto the pavement. "You'd think there be some care given to a homeless veteran. I fought for your right to drive an American automobile and this is the thanks I get."
A man in a purple suit emerges from the back of the car and walks up to Frank, who is eating bits of beef and vegetable off the ground. Frank looks up to see his bleached white skin and rictus. The man kneels down beside him, eyeing him thoughtfully.
"You look like a man who could use a job and luckily for you, I'm looking for some new employees."
"Well actually sir I'm currently on disability. I could into quite a bit of legal trouble if I were to be caught on the job."
The Joker bursts into laughter. "I like you. Don't worry my friend. All of my jobs are...off the books. So what do you say?" Joker says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash.
Frank's eyes widen. "I..I...I think maybe i could do some work for you while I'm in town. What city is this anyway?"
One Week Later
Joker turned out to be the best boss Frank has ever had. As erratic as his behavior may have been, he kept Frank fed and dressed in clean clothes. The Gallagher patriach was unsure if he wanted to go back to Chicago.
"I'm in the mood to hit the Gotham Aquarium. Maybe we can make Bat Brains swim with the fishes. Let's go boys!!" Within a few minutes of entering Joker and his gang had taken over the entire aquarium. The Clown Prince of Crime gleefully gets on the intercom as his thugs round everyone up.
Attention to all you fine patrons of the Gotham Aquarium, it's Uncle Joker here. My esteemed colleagues have rigged the exits with explosives. Assuming you don't get killed in the intial blast, I've added a dose of my special toxin to each of them. If you gotta go, go with a smile. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
The terrified civilians can do little more than cower in fear as Joker's goons pace back and forth with assault rifles in hand.
I think it's time to start the afternoon festivities. How about we start with a dip in the shark tank. Who wants to go first? Joker turns to Frank giggling. "Oh this is gonna be fun." Frank smiles weakly.
A woman is selected from the crowd and taken to the top of the shark tank to be pushed in. Just before that happens, there is a loud BOOM!!!
What the devil was that?! Go check it out.
A couple henchmen rush off to investigate the explosion when a hail of gunfire cuts them down. A heavily armored man steps through the debris and rushes into the fray. When he reaches the others, he shoots with reckless abandon, hitting many civilians in the crossfire.
"Jesus Christ. It sounds like Kuwait out there. I did two tours by the way." Frank says matter of factly. Joker gives him an incredulous look. "I thought you served in 'Nam? Oh well, if my past can be multiple choice, then so can yours hahahahaha."
With his gang slain, the armored man begins to make his way towards the Joker's hiding spot.
"Prepare to face the wrath of the Revenger, you sick son of a b*tch!"
"Frank, I think perhaps we should exit stage left." Frank nods in agreement. "Good idea." At that moment, members of the Bat Family arrive on the scene. Robin aka Damian Wayne drops down in front of the man. "Stop this assault at once or I'll be forced to take you down." He trains his gun on the young hero. "I'm only here for the Joker. Move kid or I'll use this on you too." Damian simply smirks. "Suit yourself."
Several "wing dings" strike the man in his back, electrical currents shocking him repeatedly as he slumps to the floor. Nightwing aka Richard "Dick" Grayson swings down from the shadows. The Joker cackles maniacally as he watches.
I'll have you do-gooders know that this brute shot several of the people here today. My men and I are innocent. 100%.Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going.Don't bother giving chase or I'll remotely detonate the rest of the bombs scattered across the aquarium. Toodles.
Joker and Frank make a mad dash for the exit, hoping to elude the masked vigilantes. Frank jumps across the hood of the car, slipping into the driver's seat with the grace of a man many year his junior. Oh why not cap this day off with some fireworks, am I right?" The aquarium is rocked with explosions as the car screeches off into the distance as Joker presses the button on his detonator, laughing all the way.
What will become of Robin and Nightwing? Will Frank ever return to Chicago? Find out never, because this isn't a real story!!!
|Remember: Votes due by Sunday, October 6, 2019, @11:59PM New York time (click the link if you're unsure).|
I'm glad you're here. Thanks for reading, thanks for voting, and see you on the 6th! -cb :^D