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The Ant - Chapter 1 (1097 hits)

Category: None
Labels: The_Ant

Rating: 1.88 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2005-01-14 15:28:31 EST


(This was written a few years back for the real Rob, one of most decent people I've ever met. He really is the Ant. Disclaimer: I'm not a scientist, a linguist, or a trained professional in any particular field. In fact, I can often be a spectacular idiot, so there are probably errors in this story which slipped by me. I hope you will not find them too distracting, and I hope this story gives you a few laughs. It's longish, so I'll break it up into a bunch of smaller chapters.)


The Ant

PART ONE: ROB


"Every decision you make is a mistake."
-Edward Dahlberg


CHAPTER 1 - The Ant Has a Smoke

Squatting on a big plastic bubble, Rob tried to figure out where he had gone wrong.

He was sitting on the canopy that covered the flashing red light on top of the Transamerica Building in downtown San Francisco.

With his elbows propped on his knees, he smoked a cigarette and studied the quiet streets below. He looked at his left wrist to check the time and cursed. His uniform sleeve covered his watch, and he had to peel back the shiny Kevlar fabric. 8:10pm. He sighed.

It was cold up here. There were crowds of people all over the place, getting ready to celebrate New Year's Eve. Rob was sure he was going to be getting his ass kicked well into the New Year.

The dark blue skin-tight uniform was as uncomfortable as hell. You never saw superheroes in the comic books bitching about the fact that their suits rode up their asses and bisected their scrotums like a dull but persistent knife, but it was true, and it resulted in a lot of embarrassing squirming, fidgeting and plucking at one's nether regions- which didn't look too cool when you were surrounded by the public or in the middle of a struggle with some nasty villain.

Rob looked down at his chest and the image emblazoned there. The cartoon ant with the nasty glare and the fighter's stance peered at him upside down.

He was beginning to hate The Ant and the midnight blue suit; its fireproof gauntlets, Schroedecker überboots and big bulky helmet, which with its mouth guards, bulging protective eyepieces, microphones and various antennae (linking him to all radio and cable news services, most of the satellites he found useful, and Herr Doktor Schroedecker himself), made him look more than a little like an ant. The Ant.

He ground out his smoke and tucked the butt into one of his boots. Schroedecker freaked whenever he discovered butts in the überboots ("You make the boots stinky! This is not good! Nein! Nicht gut!"), but Rob didn't think he should litter, now that he was a superhero.

Then again, smoking itself wasn't very good, was it? What if some little kid started smoking because he saw The Ant dragging away on a Camel between bouts with Fat Guy or Shitman? Thinking along these lines, of course, filled Rob with anxiety, which made him want another cigarette.

He didn't want to be a hero. He just wanted to go back to his old life. Was it his fault that he was, as far as he knew, the only real superhero left in the entire United States? Was it his fault that the fluke which created The Ant had also created a dozen psychotic super villains, who were wreaking havoc all over the west coast and were really keen on seeing The Ant crushed under the big boot of evil?

Rob tried not to think about what had happened to Blackout, who had been the only other mutant hero on his side until he had been rubbed out in the last big fight.

Rob pulled a battered smoke out of the right antenna arm on his helmet and lit up with his Zippo, which he slipped back into a little pocket in his left gauntlet. ("Stop hiding cigarettes in the antenna!" Schroedecker often screamed, "You are messing up the works!").

He took a drag and studied the city streets. Sooner or later, something was going to happen tonight. He knew it.

Braino might be dead, but Rob knew that the guy had planned a lot of shit. Flying Dude and Shitman Rob had dealt with. It was Invulnerable Boy, whom Rob could not seem to harm, and the young woman called PMS Girl, who really had him worried.

In the comics evil and villainous men were always the worst, but Rob had learned that the so-called fairer sex could be far more of a threat. When they were pissed, all bets were off.

Rob was dreading what was to come. He smoked, and waited, looking at the stars and remembering the series of events that had brought him to this cold and lonely place above the city.




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User Reviews


Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-03-23 09:32:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

15 reviews? Danm, this deserves more than that.

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-03 11:28:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0


Supreme Overlord damage control...


Submitted by Supreme_Overlord (user info) at 2005-07-21 22:19:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

shite

Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-02-08 11:46:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-01-23 02:41:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Cool story. I am intrigued, and will read the rest when I am not so god-damn tired.

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-19 14:14:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2005-01-17 11:19:12 (#)
Ranking: 2

Going to read Chapters 2 & 3 now.



and the rest.

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-17 11:32:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by metroidkillah (user info) at 2005-01-16 23:25:55 (#)
Ranking: 2

Reminds me of "The Tick", only more gritty... and less funny.

--

I wrote this long before I ever heard of the Tick... I guess some people will see similarities. It gets funnier, and more grotesque, starting with the next installment...

Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2005-01-17 11:19:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Going to read Chapters 2 & 3 now.

Submitted by metroidkillah (user info) at 2005-01-16 23:25:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Reminds me of "The Tick", only more gritty... and less funny.

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-14 19:58:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-01-14 18:51:26 (#)
Ranking: 1

I don't like bugs.

--

You'll like this one. Stay tuned.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-01-14 18:51:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1

I don't like bugs.

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-14 18:39:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

Geez, can you tell my Mac is still wonky? Fuck! Sorry about that mega cut and paste.



Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-14 18:36:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

Click here to return to the list of messages.

The Ant - Chapter 1 (62 hits)
Category: None
Rating: 2 on 3 reviews (Rate this item) (View all ratings)
Submitted by Jack McCallum   (View user info) at 2005-01-14 15:28:31

------------------------------------------------------------------------
(This was written a few years back for the real Rob, one of most decent people I've ever met. He really is the Ant. Disclaimer: I'm not a scientist, a linguist, or a trained professional in any particular field. In fact, I can often be a spectacular idiot, so there are probably errors in this story which slipped by me. I hope you will not find them too distracting, and I hope this story gives you a few laughs. It's longish, so I'll break it up into a bunch of smaller chapters.)


The Ant

PART ONE: ROB


"Every decision you make is a mistake."
-Edward Dahlberg


CHAPTER 1 - The Ant Has a Smoke

Squatting on a big plastic bubble, Rob tried to figure out where he had gone wrong.

He was sitting on the canopy that covered the flashing red light on top of the Transamerica Building in downtown San Francisco.

With his elbows propped on his knees, he smoked a cigarette and studied the quiet streets below. He looked at his left wrist to check the time and cursed. His uniform sleeve covered his watch, and he had to peel back the shiny Kevlar fabric. 8:10pm. He sighed.

It was cold up here. There were crowds of people all over the place, getting ready to celebrate New Year's Eve. Rob was sure he was going to be getting his ass kicked well into the New Year.

The dark blue skin-tight uniform was as uncomfortable as hell. You never saw superheroes in the comic books bitching about the fact that their suits rode up their asses and bisected their scrotums like a dull but persistent knife, but it was true, and it resulted in a lot of embarrassing squirming, fidgeting and plucking at one's nether regions- which didn't look too cool when you were surrounded by the public or in the middle of a struggle with some nasty villain.

Rob looked down at his chest and the image emblazoned there. The cartoon ant with the nasty glare and the fighter's stance peered at him upside down.

He was beginning to hate The Ant and the midnight blue suit; its fireproof gauntlets, Schroedecker überboots and big bulky helmet, which with its mouth guards, bulging protective eyepieces, microphones and various antennae (linking him to all radio and cable news services, most of the satellites he found useful, and Herr Doktor Schroedecker himself), made him look more than a little like an ant. The Ant.

He ground out his smoke and tucked the butt into one of his boots. Schroedecker freaked whenever he discovered butts in the überboots ("You make the boots stinky! This is not good! Nein! Nicht gut!"), but Rob didn't think he should litter, now that he was a superhero.

Then again, smoking itself wasn't very good, was it? What if some little kid started smoking because he saw The Ant dragging away on a Camel between bouts with Fat Guy or Shitman? Thinking along these lines, of course, filled Rob with anxiety, which made him want another cigarette.

He didn't want to be a hero. He just wanted to go back to his old life. Was it his fault that he was, as far as he knew, the only real superhero left in the entire United States? Was it his fault that the fluke which created The Ant had also created a dozen psychotic super villains, who were wreaking havoc all over the west coast and were really keen on seeing The Ant crushed under the big boot of evil?

Rob tried not to think about what had happened to Blackout, who had been the only other mutant hero on his side until he had been rubbed out in the last big fight.

Rob pulled a battered smoke out of the right antenna arm on his helmet and lit up with his Zippo, which he slipped back into a little pocket in his left gauntlet. ("Stop hiding cigarettes in the antenna!" Schroedecker often screamed, "You are messing up the works!").

He took a drag and studied the city streets. Sooner or later, something was going to happen tonight. He knew it.

Braino might be dead, but Rob knew that the guy had planned a lot of shit. Flying Dude and Shitman Rob had dealt with. It was Invulnerable Boy, whom Rob could not seem to harm, and the young woman called PMS Girl, who really had him worried.

In the comics evil and villainous men were always the worst, but Rob had learned that the so-called fairer sex could be far more of a threat. When they were pissed, all bets were off.

Rob was dreading what was to come. He smoked, and waited, looking at the stars and remembering the series of events that had brought him to this cold and lonely place above the city.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

User Reviews
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2005-01-14 16:36:03 (#)
Ranking: 2

You're a good writer, its kinda a shame I don't like you
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-01-14 15:45:12 (#)
Ranking: 2

this really kicks ass - dammit!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by espo (user info) at 2005-01-14 15:42:37 (#)
Ranking: 2

Jack - I just recently picked up an issue of Sports Illustrated and noticed that a writer by the name of Jack McCallum had a piece about professional athletes and who they would pay to see...seeing as how you just dominated UM II, i was wondering if that was you...?

espo

--

Nada. Nom de plume, close to my own. Glad you liked it - stay tuned.

Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2005-01-14 16:36:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

You're a good writer, its kinda a shame I don't like you

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-01-14 15:45:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

this really kicks ass - dammit!

Submitted by espo (user info) at 2005-01-14 15:42:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Jack - I just recently picked up an issue of Sports Illustrated and noticed that a writer by the name of Jack McCallum had a piece about professional athletes and who they would pay to see...seeing as how you just dominated UM II, i was wondering if that was you...?


espo




Marge: I would love you if you weighed 1,000 pounds but ...

Homer: Beautiful. G'night.

King-Size Homer