cbishop

Just Write.

21152 393952 456 392
Forum Posts Wiki Points Following Followers

CCC #141 - Voting Thread - A Hero For The Kingpin

The Kingpin
The Kingpin

Hello once again, peeps! Mrmonster picked our latest theme- "A Hero for The Kingpin." Four people sent their challenges to the king, so let's get to the voting!

The voting rules:

The stories:

Sundown89 - Untamed Revenge

Untamed Revenge

Coca Farm, Niagara

The man dressed in a white tank top and jeans, a bandana pulled over his mouth and nose, pushed through the doors into the greenhouse, smoke wafting up from the burning coca plants, the UV lights flickering, causing the pungent mist to tint blue and then grey. Pushing through the fog, coughing and choking, the man unsheathed a machete that had been strapped to his leg before slipping on something on the floor. Cursing in his native tongue, the man raised a hand up to his face only to see blood drip from his fingers, the smell of viscera joining the smell of the burning coca. Looking down at his feet, he saw one of the coca pickers lying dead next to him, their guts ripped out of their chest cavity.

Mardre dios!” The man swore as he looked down the aisle, which he had run down, littered with the eviscerated bodies of the workers. Springing to his feet, the man pivoted, peering through the fog to see who or what had killed the others. After making three pivots, he turned around and swore as he saw a humanoid figure standing in the smoke.

“I’m not afraid of you!” The man yelled as the figure in the fog cocked their head slightly before a burning pain erupted in his chest. Looking down, he saw that his own intestines were spilling out of his chest. In the two seconds he had taken his eyes off the figure, it had crossed the thirty metres to his location, causing him to panic when he looked up, falling backwards.

“You may not be, but your employer will be.” The figure stated as they bent down, flicked out a spur-like dagger, and slashed through the end of the intestine. “You will pay for those you killed, Mr. Fisk, and I... I am the knife that." The video footage paused, and the massive man placed the 80-pound medicine ball he was deadlifting down in the gym adjacent to his office.

“I deal with threats like this eight times a day; why should I take this one seriously, Mr. Brice?” The massive man stated as he walked to where the shorter man dressed in black cowboy leathers, complete with a stetson, stood.

“This one took out two farms down in Nicaragua; we found USB keys inserted in the intestinal cavity of the overseer.” Brice announced in a western drawl. “No one walked out alive save for our killer.”

“Let them come to New York; so few assassins get close to me, and those that do.” The massive man grunted as he picked up the medicine ball and threw it one-handedly at the screen, the glass shattering and the wall behind it caving slightly. “They will find that I am not a soft target.”

**

Parking Structure, Trenton, New Jersey

The four figures emerged from the darkness of the underground car park to where the woman dressed in a skin-tight red unitard, a red hooded cloak covering her face, and a long bone-handled scythe stood.

“You would be the arms dealer the Kingpin directed us to.” A bald man dressed in a lab coat gulped as he eyed the woman before turning to the figure standing next to him, a humanoid rat wearing a flat cap and a coat holding a teal box wrapped up with a purple bow. "Sir, the Hooded Haunt is here.”

“I can feel her power.” A deep voice boomed as the box twitched slightly, and a pair of glowing green eyes appeared on the lid of the box. “What have you got for sale?”

The woman in red smiled before slashing her scythe through the air, opening up a portal, and dragging two olive green crates with the words ‘Hagees and Rennselaer’ on the lid. “My late husband’s weapons: explosives and kinetic pulse staffs.” The Hooded Haunt hissed as she tapped one of the crates open with her scythe to reveal grey spherical explosives. “What have you brought me, ‘Satan in a Box’?”

“Homewrecker, show her the skull.” Satan in a Box ordered as a scantily clad woman removed a skull strung on a chain, a crystalline dagger stabbed into its cranium, from her waist. “The dagger of the fallen Bodhisattva.” It announced as Homewrecker handed the skull to the Hooded Haunt.

“Take the weapons and leave.” The Hooded Haunt hissed as her body folded in on itself into a red flash of light.

“Resentment, grab the cases; the Kingpin wants these weapons as soon as possible.” Satan in a Box as the hulkish figure lumbered forward and grabbed the two crates. As he did, the lights in the parking lot shut off, plunging the quintet into darkness.

“Has the Haunt crossed us?” Homewrecker asked as she removed a feather duster from her belt, a steel spike hidden behind the plumes.

“As soon as I get my night vision goggles on, I can restart the...” The scientist gulped before his scream echoed around the parking structure. Seconds later, the lights flicked on, and the four villains looked up to see the scientist hanging from the ceiling upside down, his head on the asphalt below.

“Dr Chia!” The humanoid rat gasped as he put Satan in a Box down and removed a pistol from his waistband.

“Resentment, cut him down; as long as we don’t lose his head, I can use my magic to bring him back to life.” Satan in the Box ordered as the hulking figure slammed the two crates down and stomped over to Dr. Chia’s body.

“Resentment at being muscle to inferior building.” Resentment grunted as he placed a hand around Dr. Chia’s head and threw it towards Homewrecker, the scantily clad woman flinching as it hit her in the chest. “Resentment at being asked to carry things surfacing.” He grunted as his skin began to tint a grey-green just as the lights went out, the glow emanating from him illuminating a figure dash past his silhouette.

“What was that?!” The rat-like figure asked as he tried to track the figure with his gun.

“Sharp ninja cuts Resentment!” Resentment yelled as the figure darted past again, slashing past, causing him to drop to one knee. “RESENTMENT BUILDS!!” He roared as he began to glow a brighter green, only to see the figure lunging towards his face.

“There it is!” The humanoid rat squeaked as he opened fire, the figure darting past Resentment, a blade cutting along the edge of his neck.

“Rat Bastard, no!” Satan in a Box yelled a little too late as a hail of bullets ripped through Resentment, the force causing his body to convulse and drop to the ground, his head rolling to where the box-themed wizard had been placed.

“He’s dead!” Rat Bastard gasped as Homewrecker screamed as her feather duster was ripped from her hand and stabbed into her skull, causing her to collapse to the ground.

“Rat Bastard, pick me up; we need to leave.” Satan in a Box ordered as the rat-themed humanoid reloaded his weapon and began to back away from the weapons, his dead teammates, and the box. “Rat Bastard, you coward!” The Box yelled his words, drowned out by the roar of gunfire that lasted two seconds, before the weapons fire fell silent. “Did you get him?”

The answer came a second later, as the body of Rat Bastard collapsed out of the darkness, followed by a pair of feet wearing golden thigh-high boots that came to a stop by Satan in a Box. “You killed them all!” The Box spat as the figure bent down and picked up Resentment’s head, dangling it over the lid of the box.

“Not all of them; I need you to make a delivery.” The figure stated as it removed a knife from its belt and placed the blade against the box.

**

Fisk Tower, Manhattan

Jackson Brice, AKA Montana, watched as the bleeding box was carried into the Kingpin’s office by the leader of the retrieval team, who had recovered the arms shipment and bodies of the Sadistic Siz, although their heads appeared to be missing.

“You were given a simple task: meet an arms dealer and return with the weapons. In return, I would pay you for doing your jobs.” The Kingpin, dressed in his white suit and black trousers, stated as he sat behind his desk, his fingers locked together.

“It wasn’t as simple as that; there was someone waiting for us.” Satan in a Box replied, blood spurting from the edge of the box. “We recovered the weapons, though; that should count for something, right?”

“I recovered the weapons; now tell him what you told me.” The man dressed in brown ballistic armour growled as he looked down at the box, his eyes covered with a pair of red sunglasses.

“The attacker wanted you to know they are here and that your organisations in this island city will be destroyed like your farms. When you’ve lost everything, the river will become a noose around your neck, and I will be standing at the gallows.” Satan in a Box gulped as it shuddered slightly, more blood oozing through the walls of the box.

“Did they give you a name?” The Kingpin asked as he got up from his chair and pushed his desk to one side before walking over to the man and the box, looming over both of them. As they did, Montana heard his PDA buzz before looking at the message that had been sent up by the armoury team.

“They called themselves the Golden Pheasant.” Satan in a Box bubbled as it looked up at the anger on the Kingpin’s face. “They said that when you see their face, you will remember them.” It groaned as the lid flipped open to reveal the heads of the other members of the Sadistic Six inside.

"Sir, we are four grenades short from the arms shipment.” Montana announced as the Kingpin took Satan in a Box and went to the window of his office. Looking into the box again, the Kingpin gritted his teeth before throwing Satan in a Box through the glass, the heads falling out, each with a grenade affixed to their mouths. Before they hit the ground, the grenades detonated, causing the glass to shatter all the way down the building.

“Sir, are you okay?” Montana asked as he walked over to the Kingpin, his suit ripped apart by the shower of exploding glass.

“Mr. Brice, send word to the heads of my operations; I will be sending powered agents to safeguard them from this Golden Pheasant.” The Kingpin ordered as he walked away from the window and went back to sitting at his desk. “Mr. Scolosis, I want you to inform my security team that I will need regular updates on the building status and everyone in it.”

**

Nest under demolished tenement building, Fisk Tower

The figure dressed in a golden tunic, with a pair of golden feathers in their dark hair, dropped down into the underground space and closed the hatch behind them. Taking off their mask, the woman sat down and pulled off her boots, revealing one fully formed foot and one where everything below the ankle had been eaten away.

Bowing her head slightly, the woman reached over for a cask, the only other thing in the space, and unscrewed the lid, pulling out a photograph.

“The Kingpin will pay for taking them from us.” The Golden Pheasant sighed as she placed the photograph down to reveal a pair of women wearing kimonos surrounded by three animals: a Shiba Inu with a damaged left ear, a Japanese macaque with a missing eye, and a golden pheasant with a missing foot. “He’ll pay for every single one of you.”

BraveBold - Pauper

Pauper

"Spare a dollar sir?" a voice spoke meekly from the curb.

"Yes of course my good man." replied Fisk as he pulled out his wallet.

Fisk's two henchmen looked at each other in confusion. They were originally fleeing the building with great speed.

"Now let me see..." mumbled Kingpin as he flicked through his hundreds and fifties, "I don't seem to have a dollar. Do either of you guys have a dollar i could borrow for this poor man?" He asked his henchmen. They both shrugged and shook their heads.

"Well c'mon down to the Laundromat. I'm sure they can break a fifty there." said Kingpin and they strolled off together talking about how lovely the city is, with very confused henchmen in tow.

Spiderman swung in and knocked the heads of the two henchmen together, rendering them unconscious. "Now hold on Spiderman." said Kingpin, "I must get this poor fellow a dollar from the Laundromat.". Kingpin motioned toward the where the beggar had been only to find that he had disappeared. A web fixed to Fisk's briefcase pulling it toward Spiderman along with Fisk who was hand cuffed to it. Spidey grabbed the case and twisted around eight times until the still confounded Kingpin flipped over onto his back and the chain of the handcuffs snapped.

Spiderman was able to bind kingpin in enough web to secure him for his arrest. Sitting on the sidewalk in his silk cocoon Fisk said with frustration "I just wanted to give a man a dollar". He was still more focussed on that task than anything else.


I am Pauper. I used to be a very rich man in competition with Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin. The day before I was going to make my move and take over his company he killed my wife and children. I gave up that day. I fell into a catatonic state. I waited for death. It took days for death to come as I lay on my lounge room floor.

Suddenly I found myself in a beautiful place. Still lying down i saw my wife and my two children around me and they threw their arms around me. "Daddeee!" my daughter cried. Hey Dad! my son cried. Beautiful rainbow light surrounded them. My wife held on to me for a long time. I was happier than I had ever been while making money and power. It seemed like Id wasted my life.

Then appeared before me a giant. "I am Peter." he said. "I am sending you back. I give you the gift of 'Charitable Compulsion' you may compel any person to immediately give charitably within the bounds of their own generosity. In order to keep this gift you must take a vow of poverty. Goodbye."

"But my family..." I cried.

"You will see them again." Peter replied. And I awoke on my lounge room floor feeling strong and healthy. Until I remembered that I was all alone. I went to my bar and grabbed my most expensive bottle of scotch. As I went to pour it the voice of Peter vibrated through me. "You must take a vow of poverty. You will see them again.". So I decided to test these new powers of mine. I hoped it was real. I hoped I would see my family again.

In the street I stood thirty feet away from a beggar. I watched a man refuse to drop a coin in the beggar's cup. As the man approached me I told him to go and give the beggar a donation. The man didn't argue he didn't give bad attitude with his face. He just turned around and put a coin in the beggar's cup. I did this over and over all day and it never failed.

"I make this solemn oath. A vow before God.

I vow only to possess what is required for my daily needs.

I renounce all other temporal goods, visible, material and appreciable at a money value.

I renounce all other possessions and ownership.

This is my solemn oath, My vow before God."

After I spoke these words Father Paul Lantom blessed me and sent me out.

Then I made Wilson Fisk the focus of my mission.

Everyone forgets after I compel them. I disappear and no one ever knows what I have done.

Cbishop - The Kingpin: When Comes Retribution

The Kingpin: When Comes Retribution

Wesley. Report.
Wesley. Report.

Wilson Fisk stands in the middle of the room, waiting. He is surrounded by men all wearing gis. At the edge of the room stands one thin man in a black suit and glasses.

"Vanessa, adjust lights to ten percent, he says to his virtual assistant. Then to the man in the suit, "Wesley. Report," and that's when the men attack.

Pushing up his glasses with one finger, Wesley answers, "New York runs smoothly, of course."

Fisk swings a backfist to his left, knocking away one of his attackers. While another comes at him with nunchucks, his assistant continues.

"The Hand contingent that we contracted to distract Wolverine were taken out rather quickly. Faster than we anticipated actually. They all disintegrated of course."

"Of course," agrees the Kingpin as he catches the flailing nunchuck in midswing, and uses it to pull its wielder into his grip. The man kicks him in the thigh, but the crimelord doesn't even flinch. He shakes the man side-to-side by the neck, pulls the nunchucks out of his hand, and tosses them over his shoulder. Then he smacks the man across the face, rendering him unconscious, and tosses him aside into two more attackers. "Send the Hand my thanks, and our usual fee, along with compensation for the families of those men."

Wesley punches his phone a bit. "Taskmaster reports that the former Hydra agents he recruited are shaping up nicely. They should be ready to enter your service by the end of the month."

"I want men who will work for me," says Wilson as he kicks a man in the solar plexus. "Not just anyone. Send those men to Arcade."

The current Madame Hydra is Arcade's daughter.
The current Madame Hydra is Arcade's daughter.

"The current Madame Hydra is Arcade's daughter," says Wesley. "She'll kill them for their desertion."

"Yes," is the only answer as Kingpin grabs two men by the sides of their heads, and smashes them into each other.

Wesley makes a notation on his phone, then says, "Arcade reports that none of the Thieves Guild members that LeBeau sent to him survived his obstacle course."

The boss growls in frustration, punching a man across the room with a devastating right hook. "That maniac can't control his own murderous impulses. Send the Hydra men to him anyway, but then dump him. I'm paying him to train recruits, not kill them for his own amusement."

"Doctor Doom would like to schedule lunch with you at the Latverian Embassy next Tuesday."

Fisk stomps one foot forward, leaning into a punch that sends a man flying. "Push it to Thursday, and invite him to..."

"...The Hellfire Club?" suggests Wesley.

"No," he answers, punching another man. "Sebastian Shaw is a bore, and not to be trusted. Make it Chez Mis."

"Your usual table?" Wesley asks, his thumbs moving rapidly over his phone.

"The whole restaurant. Whatever Doom wants, no one needs to hear it but me."

"Very well. Chez Mis already confirms. They'd like to know a time."

"The whole day," says Fisk, sweeping his right leg in a wide arc, knocking two men away. "Let Victor pick the time he wants to meet, and I'll see him then. Tell their chef to prepare the lobster thermador. It's all he'll eat from there."

Retribution.
Retribution.

"Already done, sir."

"Excellent," says Fisk as he fells the last attacker. "Now for the Hand."

"Sir?" says Wesley, but then he spies the red-clad ninjas beginning to appear from the shadows.

Just as quickly as they appear, shots ring out, causing each of them to disintegrate. Wesley cowers, throwing his arms up as if to block his face. The Kingpin just glares in the direction of the shots, watching as a woman melts out of a dark corner, pointing a handgun in his direction.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" he asks her.

"Retribution," she says in answer to both questions.

Unnmoving from the center of the room, Wilson merely tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I don't know you."

"I'm the Vanisher's daughter," she answers.

"I was sorry to hear of his untimely passing," he offers, holding his hands in front of him slightly. "I couldn't understand why he didn't teleport before he hit those powerlines."

"Probably because he was stoned out of his mind," she says angrily.

"Ah, I see." Wilson rubs one wrist, then the other. "Unfortunate. Drugs destroy so many lives."

I couldn't understand why he didn't teleport...
I couldn't understand why he didn't teleport...

Retribution steps closer, but still out of reach. "Those drugs came from the South American cartel that you had him running!"

"My dear, I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no business dealings in South America."

"I suppose you don't send men to their deaths with Arcade, either?" she seeths.

Fisk's face turns visibly angrier, and he steps forward, but stops when the woman fires. He hears the bullet whiz by his cheek.

"You're going to pay, Fisk," says Retribution, backing into the corner. As she does so, her form begins to blend with the darkness. "I'm going to dismantle your organization piece-by-piece, if I have to kill every man working for you. And when you have nothing left, I'm coming back for you." With that, she backs further into the corner, and is completely swallowed by the darkness.

"Vanessa, turn on all lights, one hundred percent," he says in a calm tone. The room becomes fully illuminated, and there is no one standing in the corner.

Towel please, Wesley.
Towel please, Wesley.

Holding out his hand, Fisk says, "Towel please, Wesley."

Wesley hands his employer the towel, and looks around the room, making sure for himself that the woman is no longer there.

Wiping sweat from his face, chest and arms, Fisk asks, "Didn't we lose a couple of facilities in New Jersey and Connecticut last month?"

"Yes, sir." Punching his phone a bit more, he says, "Everyone at those locations were shot and killed. We assumed it was the Punisher."

"Get me more details. I want to know if it was her."

"I'll have an answer for you by the morning, sir."

"Put some people on every 'Porter' in the New York area. I want to know which one of them is Vanisher's daughter by the end of the week." He hands Wesley back the towel, and heads for his private entrance. "Hold my calls. I'll be in the steam room."

Send them to Taskmaster.
Send them to Taskmaster.

"And these men, sir?"

Fisk pauses to glance over his shoulder. "They were adequate. Send them to Taskmaster." Then he leaves the room.

END

Story and original characters © Chris Bishop, 2024. Marvel stuff ©Marvel Comics.

Notes:Characters, Locations, and Teams:
OC's for this entry:
  • Retribution
  • Chez Mis
  • Vanessa (virtual assistant, named for Kingpin's wife)
Returning OC's:
  • Arcadia (Arcade's daughter) [from CCC 30]
Marvel:
Pics:
  • Retribution is an Open Source character pic. The character was unnamed, so I'm using the pic here for her.
  • Bradd Pitt/Vanisher was found via Google, belongs to Marvel, and was futzed with in MS Paint.
  • All others are Marvel pics, were found here on the wiki, and were futzed with in MS Paint.
Batkevin74 - A Friend For A Fatman

A Friend For A Fatman

"White Ant Man! White Ant Man! Does whatever a white ant can! Destroy your walls, kick your balls, look out! Here’s comes the White Ant, man!”

Wilson Fisk sat angrily tied to a chair as this lunatic in a white spandex suit and orangey-brown helmet poured some sort of accelerant around his office. Lying on the floor were his two bodyguards, who weren’t dead but would be when this all ended.

“I can see you glaring daggers with them little piggy eyes of yours,” White Ant laughed as he popped another bottle of turpentine. “Working out how you’d squash me like a bug, wondering how I got in here. That part I'll tell you...I’m a white ant, or if you’d like termite, they burrow in through the walls before you even know. I didn’t think The Termite struck fear into the hearts of bad guys, but running off the Spider, Ant, Wasp, Yellowjacket motifs that often frequent NYC...oh man, I’m monologing! You’ve probably slipped your cuffs.”

White Ant crossed Wilson Fisk’s luxury apartment, splashing turpentine as he went to see that the Kingpin of crime was securely fastened. White Ant looked Wilson in the end and then smacked him across the face. The slap was hard but the big man barely moved.

“This is why I tased and drugged you!” White Ant shook his hand in pain. “You are like a medicine ball. A big fat medicine ball. Now, can you work out why I’m going to burn down your apartment with you in it?”

Wilson Fisk just stared hatefully.

“You ruin people’s lives. Everything you touch or do; you leave a wake of destruction. And you don’t care because why would you, you’re a monster! You love power and money and cake!”

White Ant popped a knife out of his belt and began slashing up Wilson’s fine Corinthian leather lounge. He then poured another bottle of turpentine over the lounge.

“Sorry, got distracted. You’re a monster, you don’t think you’re a monster because somehow you can justify or compartmentalise all the wrong you do. Is that why your wife died?”

Wilson strained against the bonds, the ropes creaking and the chair squealing from the immense pressure. White Ant walked back over and hit him with the taser again which made the near 500-pound man convulse like a landed fish.

“That struck a nerve didn’t it. Your dead wife...boo hoo. Imagine being a ten-year-old waking up on his birthday finding out his dad died because of you!” White Ant stated as he tased him again. “My dad got his head caved in because of you, directly by you.”

White Ant stepped back and grabbed his helmet. “Take a good look Wilson...gaze upon the face of...” White Ant paused and burst into laughter. “Like I’d do that! This isn’t a comic book from the 60’s! You killed my dad; I’m going to ruin you. End of story.”

Wilson sucked in breath through the bandana in his mouth.

“I bet you don’t even recall who my dad was, do you?” White Ant shook his head in disgust. “Doesn’t really surprised me.”

White Ant tied some rope around Wilson’s feet and dragged him slowly to the lovely plexiglass windows. He then pulled out a glass cutter and traced a circle with an x in the centre of the glass before walking off to get something heavy which happened to be an urn.

“Oh wow, Richard Fisk,” White Ant whistled. “Dad? Son? Dog? Oh, you’re not talking to me...” He threw the urn at the glass and both items smashed, and a plume of grey powder hung about. Wilson again tried to break free but to no avail.

“Yeah, you’re going out the window. You’ll hang there until the rope burns or Spider-Man gets you. I really hope the Punisher finds you dangling and puts a bullet in you....”

-ANT-

White Ant paused as he looked around the room at the disembodied voice.

-ANT. YOU OKAY?-

White Ant quickly ran over to Kingpin and grabbed him by the collar. “You killed my dad, you fat sack of crap! You suck! You’re dead, you hear me, DEAD!”

-ANT!-

Anthony Altomonte blinked as he looked at the eulogy notes in front of him. He raised his head to see the dozens gathered for his father’s funeral. A tear welled in his eye, but he forced it back to a wet blink. The nineteen-year-old gripped the lectern like an eagle holds prey.

“My father, Dominic Alto...” He paused as there was a shift at the back of the church. Six or so people moved as in strode Wilson Fisk, flowers in hand, shades on his face. Anthony nearly vomited into his own mouth at the audacity of the man who killed his father. Dominic worked for the Kingpin, and something had happened a week prior and Dominic ended up in a ditch in the marshes out near the airport. The bruising on his face and neck was explained as he was hit by a truck, except they looked like bruises from a fat man who studied martial arts, and the fact that the marsh isn’t even near a goddam road.

Anthony exhaled slowly, tried to start but his gaze caught Wilson’s who’d take off his sunglasses to stare right at the young man. Anthony shook his head and shoved the lectern over before storming towards the back of the church in an angry charge. He got six pews before he was tackled to the ground by his uncle, George.

“Not now kid,” he whispered into Anthony’s ear. “I’m sorry, but not now.”

Anthony howled like a wounded animal and sobbed as the people stared. Wilson Fisk calmly put his sunglasses back on and left quietly.

Remember: Votes due by Sunday, March 31st, @11:59PM New York time (click the link if you're unsure)

See you in a couple of weeks! In the meantime, be safe, and I'm glad you're. Cheers. :^)

3 Comments

Slick, by Brad James Glenn

No Caption Provided
DateOpen Sourced:ViewRead the...
03/13/24Slick, by Brad James Glenn(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
EInformational.

Slick

Slick, created by Brad James Glenn.
Slick, created by Brad James Glenn.

Posted to the FB group, Open Source Characters:

Brad's Description from Facebook:

Slick! Made entirely out of crude oil! Slippery and flammable at the same time!

Please include this paragraph anywhere you use this OSC:

Note: See "About 'The Paragraph' " in the third comment box to understand why this should be important to all creators. -cb

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the character:

The open source character of Slick, created by Brad James Glenn, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the character, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the character in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

3 Comments

Country, by Chris Bishop

No Caption Provided
DateOpen Sourced:ViewRead the...
03/03/24Country, by Chris Bishop(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
EInformational.

Country

Country, created by Chris Bishop
Country, created by Chris Bishop

Posted to DeviantArt:

Posted to the FB group, Open Source Characters:

Chris' Description from Facebook:

See the team page.

Queen & Country:

Please include this paragraph anywhere you use this OSC:
Please include these paragraphs anywhere you use these OSC's:

Note: See "About 'The Paragraph' " in the third comment box to understand why this should be important to all creators. -cb

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the character:

The open source character of Country, created by Chris Bishop, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the character, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the character in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

3 Comments

Queen, by Chris Bishop

No Caption Provided
DateOpen Sourced:ViewRead the...
03/03/24Queen, by Chris Bishop(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
EInformational.

Queen

Queen, created by Chris Bishop.
Queen, created by Chris Bishop.

Posted to DeviantArt:

Posted to the FB group, Open Source Characters:

Chris' Description from Facebook:

See the team page.

Queen & Country:

Please include this paragraph anywhere you use this OSC:
Please include these paragraphs anywhere you use these OSC's:

Note: See "About 'The Paragraph' " in the third comment box to understand why this should be important to all creators. -cb

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the character:

The open source character of Queen, created by Chris Bishop, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the character, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the character in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

3 Comments

Queen & Country, by Chris Bishop

No Caption Provided
DateOpen Sourced:ViewRead the...
03/03/24Queen & Country, by Chris Bishop(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
EInformational.

Queen & Country

Queen & Country, created by Chris Bishop.
Queen & Country, created by Chris Bishop.

Posted to DeviantArt:

Posted to the FB group, Open Source Characters:

Chris' Description from Facebook:

I had pulled these guys before, because I had to think a little more on how it might be perceived. Finally decided... fug it. So, here they are, public domain for you:

Queen & Country

This is a gay couple and assassin duo. Both have super strength, invulnerability, and military black ops training. Both are proficient in hand-to-hand martial arts skills. Both are competent in military and martial arts weaponry. Both served from 1998-2005 - the midst of the Don't Ask Don't Tell era (1993-2011).

This didn't sit well with Queen, and that coupled with general homophobia directed towards him is what drives his rage today as a very out assassin. The armor augments what he can do with his strength. The flames running up his arms are blades, making his hand-to-hand skills deadly indeed. He maintains his skills through regular gym, dojo, and firing range work. Queen is from Queens, NY, loves the city life, but can handle camping, thanks in large part to his military training.

In contrast, DADT suited Country just fine. He didn't go around telling people he was gay, but came out to Queen, and they carried on privately until they were out of the military. He's more subdued than Queen, but thinks his partner is a hell of a lot of fun, and that's what keeps them together. He doesn't care about others' homophobia. It bores him even more than Queen's rage moments do. He is more agile and acrobatic than Queen, so doesn't rely on armor like his partner does. He maintains his skills through regular gym, dojo, and firing range work. Country is a former Texas farmboy, and prefers the open countryside to the city.

The money they've made from assassin work affords them the opportunity to have homes in both the country and the city.

Queen & Country:

Please include these paragraphs anywhere you use these OSC's:

Note: See "About 'The Paragraph' " in the third comment box to understand why this should be important to all creators. -cb

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the character:

The open source character of Queen, created by Chris Bishop, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the character, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the character in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the character:

The open source character of Country, created by Chris Bishop, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the character, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the character in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

Please include the paragraph below anywhere you use the team:

The open source team of Queen & Country, created by Chris Bishop, has been released to the Public Domain, and is available for use by anyone with only the following conditions: this paragraph must be included in any publication involving the team, in order that others may use this property as they wish, following the same rules as Public Domain properties. The main rule being that your version's story cannot be like the story of anyone else's version (meaning: you may not reference elements from the story you find the team in, because they belong to that story's author, and are not open source).

3 Comments

C-Rhymes #10: The Fresh Prince of Eternia

DateC-Rhymes #10ViewRead the...
02/25/24The Fresh Prince of Eternia(Blog) (Forum).Disclaimer.
RatingRating ExplanationLast Issue:
ESuitable for everyone..E.T.'s Battle Rap.
No Caption Provided
Next C-Rhyme: ?
Please let me know what you think, and thanks! -cb

C-Rhymes and The Fresh Prince of Eternia (the lyrics) owned by Chris Bishop, © 2024.

The picture came from Facebook. He-Man is owned by Mattel, and if I'm reading .this article. correctly, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is now owned by BBC, but was previously owned by Warner Bros.

4 Comments

Easter vs. The Albino

RANKED 2nd BY VOTERS IN CHARACTER CREATION CONTEST #139!

DateCB 1-ShotsViewRead the...
02/24/24Easter vs. The Albino(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
TBattle violence; dog disappearances; rumor of a villain's death.
They slipped.
They slipped.

Sunset Falls- The Falls Bar & Grill:

Major Freedom and Cupid are almost to the door of the bar when it splinters from a couple of guys crashing through it, and landing back first on the sidewalk, unconscious. Cupid instantly has an arrow nocked and pointed at the entryway, and Major Freedom has his shield at the ready.

As they get into view of the inside, they see a man in pink from head to toe- suit, shoes, gloves, shades, and even pink bunny ears- holding up one of his hands to chest level as he rubs his wrist. There is blood on his glove. He doesn't speak for several seconds, then quietly says, "They slipped."

"Get down on the ground!" commmands Major Freedom.

"Major, stand down," says Cupid. "You haven't met Easter yet. He's on the team."

"The Holidays haven't been a team since Holiday Inc. decided to sponsor The Calendar Girls instead," Easter corrects him.

"You haven't been on the team since then," counters Cupid, "but the Holidays still operate. You chose to go out on your own."

Easter says nothing.

"What are you doing here?" asks Major Freedom.

Peep paste?
Peep paste?

"Same thing you are, I'd imagine," says the man in pink. "Looking for information on Eros' killer."

Cupid nods. "How did you get here ahead of us?"

Easter just stares, his shades hiding whatever his eyes may have told the archer.

"Right. You're always a hop ahead," Cupid says with the slightest hint of sarcasm, answering his own question. He steps through the doorway, and Freedom follows.

Looking around, there are various splatters of goo all over- some yellow, some pink. Some are holding guys in place on tables, or against walls. The only other person still conscious is standing, trying to pull his foot from a pile that is stuck to the floor. "Peep paste?" asks Cupid. "How in the world do you carry that many peeps in that suit? I've never understood that."

"The suit's--" Easter stops suddenly and spins. His arm lances out, and a brightly colored Easter egg flies across the room, knocking out the man who had been trying to free his foot. When he falls, his handgun clatters to the floor.

Cupid just smiles. "I love those little bricks," he says of Easter's projectiles.

That doesn't excuse all of this damage.
That doesn't excuse all of this damage.

Easter reaches in his pocket, pulls out another egg, and tosses it to his former teammate. "The suit's made from the same material as Secret Santa's bag. There's room for a lot of things."

"Ha," says Cupid. "I need a quiver made of that stuff."

"That doesn't excuse all of this damage," says Major Freedom.

"Major," Cupid says, "it's part of what we do. Holiday picks up the damages. You know that."

Major Freedom glares at Cupid. "As you pointed out, he's gone his own w-ugh!" The Major goes down from a punch thrown by Easter.

Cupid looks at Easter who repockets a pair of brass knuckles that are just as pink as everything else. "He's kind of had that coming," the god says with a shrug.

"I don't have time for this," growls Easter. Then he seems to fold in on himself, and wink out of existence.

"Slips further into the suit!" Cupid says with admiration. "That's how he does it! I've got to talk to Secret Santa about my quiver." Then, more seriously, he says, "I hope I can find The Sparrow before anyone else does. She's been in hiding for too long now."

The Major groans as he comes to.

Cupid smiles. "Ah! Good morning, sunshine! Come on then!"

The Bolthole- one of several bases of operations for Easter:

Easter unfolds from the extradimensional folds of his suit, and walks over to a table. "Computer," he says to the room, "status on the egg activated three minutes ago."

"The egg is currently located at the Sunset Falls Bar & Grill," the computer informs him.

"Designate that egg 'archer,' and alert me if it should get within one hundred meters of my belt tracker's location."

"Acknowledged," confirms the machine.

"You let him see you leave?" asks a voice from behind him.

Without looking up, Easter says, "Angora. Cupid was right- his quiver would be more useful to him if it has extradimensional capacity. Sometimes, Secret Santa is too secretive."

I'm hearing rumors that someone killed Dingo.
I'm hearing rumors that someone killed Dingo.

"God, I love it when you talk all tactical," she says as she steps up and rubs his shoulders.

"Not now, Angora. I don't have time. The Sparrow's not the only problem I'm tracking right now. I'm hearing rumors that .someone killed Dingo. The Reynard and Vixen are on a crime spree. Double Down is back again. The Inquisition has been looking for something all over the city, and..." he sighs with disgust. "And there have been several sightings of The Albino around the dog park. Pets are disappearing." Whispering, he laments, "I really hate having to go into the sewers."

"Well, then," says Angora. "You better take advantage of this first. Because after the sewers, it will be a week and several showers before you get to again."

Easter finally looks up. Glancing over his shoulder, he pulls his shades down for a better look at Angora. She isn't wearing anything. "I... I may have a little time," he says.

Angora wrinkles her nose and gives a tight smile. "Ven aqui, papi."

Two hours later, Sunset Dog Park:

"Found the sewer access point the Albino has been using to get in and out of the park," Easter says for the benefit of a bluetooth device next to his ear. Going in to find him."

"Be careful, mi amor," he hears in the receiver. "I'd hate for anything to happen to that cute little butt."

"Angora," Easter says in a low voice, looking around him. "I didn't know you were listening."

Then who were you talking to, pendejo?
Then who were you talking to, pendejo?

"Then who were you talking to, pendejo?" she demands.

"I was recording my progress," he tells her, "in case I need to review it later. I need radio silence, so I can listen for the Albino."

"Mm-hm," is Angora's only response, then nothing.

Putting a rebreather between his lips, the man in pink drops into the sewer, and taps his shades. The lenses change to night vision, and he starts forward. He travels quickly about two hundred meters down the tunnel before he hears a low, rumbling growl. He gets to a large intersection with more branches leading into it than he cares for.

He reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a squat gun with a large barrel. Reaching into his coat pocket with his other hand, he brings out a handful of yellow and pink peeps. Loading them into the Peep Shooter, he fires them at each of the tunnels. Each one hits its mark, sticking to a tunnel wall, and the impact activating the motion detection laser embedded within their soft bodies. Now I'll know if the Albino comes out of one of those tunnels, he thinks to himself.

Just then he hears a louder growl behind him from the tunnel he just came out of. Spinning towards the noise, he finds himself facing the hulking humanoid form of The Albino - a white-scaled, zombie gator man, with a purple leash dangling from his jaws.

The Albino growls, and charges Easter. Dropping the Peep Shooter, an egg falls from the hero's coat sleeve into his waiting hand, and he sweeps his arm out in a wide arc, sending the projectile flying into the man-gator's open mouth. On contact, the zombie's mouth fills with expanding foam. Once he's within arm's reach, Easter grabs the leash, and yanks, slamming the Albino into the water.

an egg falls from the hero's coat sleeve
an egg falls from the hero's coat sleeve

Before he can jump clear, the zombie grabs him, and drags him into the water as well. He rolls over several times, but has to let the hero go to focus on freeing his mouth. Easter scrambles to the surface, spits out the rebreather, takes a deep, gasping breath of air, and immediately gags on the foul taste of the sewer air. He stumbles to the narrow walkway at the edge of the water, and clambers out of the muck.

More eggs drop into his gloved hands, and he hurls them just as the Albino breaks the water. These eggs hit like concussion grenades, causing the zombie to stumble back into another wall. Easter pulls another Peep Shooter out of his jacket, and immediately fires several, trapping the gator in piles of peep paste.

Tapping the back of his shades, he says, "Angora? Alert the Sunset Falls Police Department to this location, and tell them to bring a cage. The Albino is captured, but stuck to the wall."

"Done. Anything else?" is her only response.

"Yes, stay clear of the detox foam shower. I'll be 'porting there directly. You may actually want to go to another Bolthole for the night. This reeks."

"I'm already at another Bolthole," she informs him. "Good night." With that, the connection goes silent.

"Computer. What's Angora's current location?"

"Angora's trackers have all been disabled," the computer informs him.

Easter sighs. "Great. She's angry," he says to himself. Looking at his suit, the pink barely registers under all the muck he's covered in. Frustrated, he hurls a couple of more peeps at the Albino for good measure, then teleports to the detox shower in his Bolthole.

Please let me know what you think, and thanks! -cbOriginally Presented In: CCC #139.

Story and characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 2024.

3 Comments

Gehenna: A Novel

No Caption Provided
DateBookmarksViewAttached to Forum
02/07/24Gehenna(Blog) (Forum).Chris Bishop.

Gehenna: A Novel, by Paul Thigpen (August, 1996)

No Caption Provided

Keep in mind the author when reading...

I read Gehenna very shortly after it came out, and still have vivid mental images from this story. There are not enough good things to say about it, but my highest praise is this: read the author's introduction before reading the book. I usually consider "foreward" as a command to skip to the first chapter, but Paul's is worth reading. The focus of his life is humility, and it was from the standpoint of humility that this book was written. In my opinion, knowing this made the images in the book have an even greater impact.

A man trying to escape his misfortune finds greater peril when his escape route leads to Hell. He finds that the only way out is to make his way through all of the levels of Hell. He encounters all manner of sins, their specific punishments, and the terrifying masters of each level. Each level forces him to face any sins within himself if he is to make it through intact.

Back cover, because it's available
Back cover, because it's available

If it reminds you of Dante's Inferno, it's because that's what it was modeled after, but with Paul's modern twists. This book is highly entertaining, engrossing, and yes, thought provoking. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Just as a teaser to the monster fans, out there: if for no other reason, you should read this book just to find out why Frankenstein's monster is in it.

This book gives such vivid images, I have long awaited a movie adaptation, or maybe even a video game. Until then, and even after, get the book. Nothing else would be quite like it.

In recent years, the publisher changed the title to something lackluster, like My Journey Through Hell, or something along those lines. Thigpen had to update the celebrity references in it as well to keep the book current enough for the publisher's taste. Personally, I like the original, and think they should have left it alone.

No Caption Provided

For the score, I have to say I really enjoyed it. I feel like five stars is fair.

Have you read Gehenna? Let me know!
2 Comments

The Stardust Voyages & The Ramsgate Paradox

No Caption Provided
DateBookmarksViewAttached to Forum
02/07/24The Stardust Voyages & The Ramsgate Paradox(Blog) (Forum).Chris Bishop.

The Stardust Voyages, by Stephen Tall (October, 1975)

No Caption Provided

I took speech therapy for a lisp, when I was in elementary and middle school. The therapist I had in elementary school, Mrs. Slaughter (what a cruel name to make your lisping students pronounce - lol), used to have a box of prizes we could choose from when we had done our homework and did well in our weekly (or was it twice weekly?) sessions. I got this book as a prize once, and loved it, but parted with it somewhere along the way.

Like "The Cold Cash War," by Robert Aspirin, it took me years and years to find a copy of this again, finally locating it in a Vegas used bookstore. I really enjoyed reading this book again. I think I will keep it on my bookshelf. (Thanks, Mrs. Slaughter, wherever you are.)

This was pretty much exactly like Star Trek, only I don't recall any extras wandering off and dying in these short stories. Mr. Tall does try to bring you alien types that you haven't seen before. There's really not much else to tell. The Amazon blurb says about the same thing:

In the great tradition of Star Trek, E.E. (Doc) Smith and Edmond Hamilton, the great ship and its mixed crew of adventurers wends its way in deep space.

The Ramsgate Paradox, by Stephen Tall (August, 1976)

No Caption Provided

Amazon again:

The Second Stardust novel Roscoe Kissinger, Lindy, Pegleg and the crew of the Stardust engaged in voyages of interstellar exploration, land on an alien planet inhabited by humanoids who are startlingly similar to earthmen. The aliens are a primitive people who farm vast fields, but there is also a strange, uninhabited city and evidence of another culture. Then Lindy disappears and Roscoe and his friends must go to the strange city, where they discover the secret of the other civilization. The new novel in the Stardust series, linking the secrets of outer space with the mysteries of earth's distant past.

Again, there's really not much more to tell than that. This one is a novel rather than short stories, but like the short stories, the plot is very straightforward. It's a light read, and I found it very entertaining. I do think that part of that is due to my nostalgia for The Stardust Voyages, but that's as it should be.

If either of these books have a failing, it's that the plots are almost too straightforward. Once you realize there are no Red Shirts, and that none of the main crew are likely to die, it's hard to be invested in the stories. It's more a matter of, "Well, I'm just curious where he's going with this," rather than it being so riveting that I couldn't put it down. I absolutely could when I needed to. Like I said, it's light reading. Nothing wrong with that.

No Caption Provided

For the score, let's drop one star just for the investment problem. It really wasn't a problem for me, but it might be for others. So, final score: four stars.

Have you read The Stardust Voyages or The Ramsgate Paradox? Let me know!
2 Comments

Wolverine: The Organ Grinder and the Monkey

RANKED 1ST BY VOTERS IN CHARACTER CREATION CONTEST #138!

DateMarvel Fanfare:ViewRead the...
01/28/24Wolverine: The Organ Grinder and the Monkey(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
MViolence- twisting, slicing, stabbing, hitting, goring, etc.
Muir Island
Muir Island

Muir Island:

I walk into Doctor MacTaggert's treatment room with a deer-headed mutant slung over my shoulder. I dump him over onto the table with a thud. "Calls himself Warbuck, Doc."

"Seems the war was lost," she says, spreading one of his eyelids apart with her fingers, and shining a light into it. Then she looks at all of the holes he put in me with his antlers, and says, "I see you're no worse for wear, Logan."

"It's already healing," I tell her. "Gotta go. I gotta vacation ta get back to."

"And what am I supposed to do with him after he's treated?" she asks incredulously.

"Moira, I'm on vacation, so I don't give a rip," I say without looking back.

"Logan!" she calls after me.

I say hit him with that neutralizing gun...
I say hit him with that neutralizing gun...

I turn back, and fix her with a bored look. "Call Charlie and ask him. If he's taking votes, I say hit him with that neutralizing gun that Forge gave you, and call it a day. The stag's a pain in the rump."

"Logan!" she scolds me. "That's not funny."

"It kinda is," I assure her as I walk towards the door.

I pull a cigar from my pocket and strike a match to light it. I puff on it, and head for the nearby edge of the island. Gateway sees me coming, and whirls his bullroarer to open a gate back to the Rockies, and the cabin I've got there. "Thanks, Gate'," I say as I step into the portal.

The Rockies:

It roars as it charges...
It roars as it charges...

As I exit the gate, and step back on my familiar mountain territory, it occurs to me that Warbuck is a mercenary. He hardly ever goes anywhere he doesn't get paid to. I'm distracted from that thought by the sound of merry-go-round music. "What the blue blazes?" I say to myself, looking around. I turn to look behind me, just in time to see a four hundred pound gorilla coming right at me. It roars as it charges, plants a haymaker on me, and the lights go out.

Undisclosed Location:

I wake up to the smells of ape and an otherwise sterilized room. I go to reach for my head, but my hand doesn't move. I'm lying on a surgical table in restraints. I see a small man in a labcoat in the corner, prepping surgical instruments, and laying them on a tray table. He's bald, has a handlebar mustache, and is nearly hunched over at the table. "Hey!" I shout, and then my head pounds. "Owww. What the flamin'...?"

"Ah," came the Italian accent of the man, "you are awake. Good."

"What the heck hit me?" I ask, wincing. My healing factor is starting to kick in on the headache, thank goodness.

"That would be Mikko," says the man.

"I told you: that's not my name," growls the gorilla as he lumbers up beside the table.

His voice is loud, and his body odor is overwhelming. "So, what's your name then, bub?"

I like the irony.
I like the irony.

He turns on me quickly, and blusters, "MONKEY!" His breath stinks too.

I turn my head away a bit, and ask, "You like 'Monkey' better than 'Mikko?' "

He turns away, leaning on all fours. His head bows a little, and he looks back over his shoulder. Sounding like a big child, he says, "I like the irony."

I laugh, and he turns back and roars in my face. "Hey! Take it easy, fella! I'm just laughing at your joke. You're funny."

Breathing hard, his eyes narrow for a moment. Then he grunts in my face, his breath puffing right at my nostrils before he walks on all fours to the foot of the table.

"Okay," I say, my head clearing. "So, who the sam hill are you?" I ask the labcoat.

"Well," he says happily, walking up to put a hand on the gorilla's shoulder. "You have already met the Monkey. So, that makes me The Organ Grinder, doesn't it?" He titters at his joke.

"What do you want?" I ask, annoyance in my voice.

His eyes go wide, and his eyebrows raise. He smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, and says, "I thought I made that clear? Your organs."

"Look, ya kook, organ donors have to give consent, and they have to be dead."

We don't need his feet.
We don't need his feet.

"Please let me kill him," says Monkey.

"Monkey," he says, looking at the gorilla, "behave. Go get the tray table, please."

The gorilla looks at the Organ Grinder for a moment, then looks at me. Grunting like he did earlier, he casually reaches for my foot, and twists it one hundred eighty degrees.

I scream.

"Monkey!" scolds the Organ Grinder.

"What?" he says as he walks away. "We don't need his feet."

"I'm so sorry about that," the man says pleasantly as he watches my ankle untwist itself. "Monkey heard a great deal about you before we came to your cabin. He was hoping for more of a fight. He was quite upset when it only took one hit to knock you out."

My lip flares into a momentary sneer, but I answer rather than lose my cool. "Something big enough hits me, I go down. He hits like the Blob. I am surprised that I didn't wake up before we got here though."

"Oh, you did," he says. "Several times. Monkey just hit you to knock you out again."

The gorilla wheels the tray next to my table, then gorilla-laughs at me- his bottom lip poking out, and his chin raising.

Yes, I think he enjoyed it.
Yes, I think he enjoyed it.

As he shuffles back next to the Organ Grinder, the man says, "Yes, I think he enjoyed it."

"Good for him," I say dryly.

"In any case, Mister Logan, you are wrong," he says, moving to the tray table.

"About?"

"You do not have to be dead before I take your organs." He smiles. "That's why you are here."

"Come again?" I say, the shock all over my face.

"Just before you went on your little vacation to the great outdoors, you gravely wounded several men working for the Hellfire Club. The ones who still live need organ transplants, but don't have time to get on the waiting list. So, you are going to be the solution to the problem that you created." He shrugs as if that should be all the explanation I need, but then adds, "And then I will let Monkey kill you."

Monkey gorilla-laughs at me again from the end of the table. I pull the restraint up the few inches it will let me, and flip him the bird. He twists my other foot one-eighty, and I scream.

"Please stop doing that," protests the Organ Grinder. "His blood pressure is going to be high enough in a minute. Start the music, will you?"

The ape slaps my foot while it's twisting back into place, then lumbers over to the corner of the room where the mad doctor had been. He pulls out a stool, and an actual barrel organ. Sitting, he turns the crank, and the merry-go-round music starts up again.

the gorilla leaps across the room
the gorilla leaps across the room

The Organ Grinder leans in, and in a low voice, says in my ear, "Confidentially, I don't enjoy the music as much as you might think, but it keeps him busy while I do the surgeries." He stands up, winks at me, and in a normal tone, he says, "Now, we are going to have to do this a few times. More than one of those men will need a kidney. I'll need your liver, and both lungs." A look comes on his face that says he's only just thought of something, and he looks at me curiously. "How long will it take for you to regrow those? I might need a couple of sets."

I raise my head towards him, and wave my hand from its restrained position, motioning for him to come closer. He leans in again, and I say, "More time than you've got, ya crazy S.O.B.," and I pop my claws into his thigh.

"Arrghhhh! Monkeyyy!" he screams.

The music stops suddenly, and the gorilla leaps across the room, smashing both fists on my chest, causing me to pop my claws back in reflexively. He sweeps the doc away from the table with a backhand movement, then he pulls me out of the restraints, and throws me across the room.

I hit the wall back-first, and slump to the floor. Monkey charges me, and I pop my claws again. I reach out and stab one set into his foot, and roll to stab the other one into the fist he swings at me.

Monkey falls on his back, the stabbed foot in the air, and his good hand clutching his stabbed one. He roars in pain.

Sorry, bub.
Sorry, bub.

"Sorry, bub," I say as I scramble to my feet and stand over him, "but it's time to spank the Monkey." I put one set of claws in the closest arm, and the other in his chest.

Monkey goes limp.

I look at the Organ Grinder. He's clutching his wounded thigh, blood running out over his fingers. He looks terrified, and he should be. "Well, doc, I believe we have an appointment."

"No," he says as I start towards him. "No!" he shouts. "Noooooo!" he screams. I put my adamantium-laced fist in his gut, and he stops screaming, doubling over to the floor.

I raise him up to his knees, and put my fist against his chest. I pop a claw through his right lung, and his eyes go wide. I growl, "Take two, and call me in the morning," and pop a second claw through his heart.

He goes limp, and I pop my claws back in, letting him fall to the floor.

I look around the room, and sniff. "Where the hell am I?" I walk over to a window, and raise the shade. Looking out, I pull a new cigar out of my belt, and strike a match. After I light the stogie, I sigh. "Madripoor. Dammit. I'm supposed to be on vacation."

Please let me know what you think, and thanks! -cbOriginally Presented In: CCC #79.

Story and original characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 2023, 2024.

2 Comments