The Ant - Chapter 12 - If You Can't Join 'em, Beat 'em (573 hits)
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Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2005-01-23 13:13:04 EST
We are approaching the end... from here on in things become either more action-packed or more scatologically ridiculous, depending on your point of view.
(Chapter 1 http://www.ubersite.com/m/56777)
(Chapter 2 http://www.ubersite.com/m/56855)
(Chapters 3-5 http://www.ubersite.com/m/56884)
(Chapter 6 http://www.ubersite.com/m/56930)
(Chapter 7 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57042)
(Chapter 8 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57139)
(Chapter 8 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57139)
(Chapter 9 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57238)
(Chapter 10 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57350)
(Chapter 11 http://www.ubersite.com/m/57411)
Chapter 12 - If You Can't Join 'em, Beat 'em
One sunny afternoon in early November Schroedecker's phone rang. The doctor was in a large room at the back of the house which he had converted into a laboratory and examination room, checking Rob's blood sugar. Rob was a few feet away pedaling leisurely on an exercise bike, turned towards the open French doors which led out into Schroedecker's small garden. On the second ring the doctor hit the speakerphone button and snapped, "Hello!"
"Wooolllllffffffff." The voice was soft, almost delirious.
Schroedecker tensed, staring at the phone. "Ernst?" Rob looked over his shoulder, curious.
"The FDA and the police are after me." It was Pfaltzer. He sounded drunk, or half-crazed. "It seems they received phone calls alerting them to my methods in and the results of my last experiment. I have had to go into seclusion, Wolf. Was it you? Did you call them on to me? I know that you have already conspired against me, old friend. You have my number thirteen, Wolf. You stole my number thirteen, Wolfgang, and I want it back, oh yes, I want it back right now!"
Schroedecker glanced at Rob. Rob mouthed, 'Me?' The doctor nodded.
"Say yes, Wolf." Pfaltzer was whispering again. "Say you will deliver number thirteen to me when I come calling for him. I need him, Wolf. He makes the group complete, you see. Say yes, or you will pay the consequences."
Without a moment's hesitation Schroedecker said, "No."
"So be it." Pfaltzer's whisper turned to ice. "Whatever happens is on your head, Wolf. You will pay a price for deceiving me and trying to destroy my work."
Schroedecker's eyebrows went up. Before he could reply, the connection was broken. He looked at Rob.
"This series of crimes occurring in California," the old man said, "reportedly carried out by superhuman freaks, must be Pfaltzer's work. And now he wants to add you too to his stable."
"Fuck 'em," Rob said.
"Wrong answer, Mr. Collison," Pfaltzer said.
Schroedecker looked at the phone. Rob looked through the doors, out into the garden, in the direction from which the voice had come. Pfaltzer was standing on the manicured lawn, grinning. He made a gesture, and all hell broke loose.
A grotesquely fat man wearing what looked like an orange bodysuit stretched to the limits burst through a hedge behind Pfaltzer. He took two steps and then rolled himself towards the French doors.
"Pfaltzer's monsters!" Schroedecker cried. "I was afraid of this!"
"Hi!" the obese, orange-clad man said. "I'm Fat Guy!" He wedged himself into the doorway and blocked it with his wheezing bulk.
The hall door opened behind them and thin young woman wrapped in the folds of a purple cape appeared. She was followed by a guy wearing a dark brown bodysuit which had a toilet bowl emblazoned on the chest. He turned around and bent over. The rear-end was cut out of his bodysuit, and he aimed his ass at them like it was a gun. "Let's do it, Shitman!" the young woman said.
"Ready when you are, B.G." he replied. There was an obscene sound, and a shitball the size of a cantaloupe was blasted from Shitman's asshole. It hit Rob in the chest and knocked him off of the exercise bike.
A moment later it was apparent that B.G. stood for Bulimia Girl, because she opened her mouth and retched, and a concentrated torrent of vomit knocked Schroedecker across the room.
Sunlight and noise filled the lab as a section of the roof was torn away. A thing which had once been human stared down at them. It was naked, its skin overlaid with hard gray scales. It had taloned feet and muscular legs, and a bird-like head with the curved, strong beak of a bird of prey. Its arms were very long, hooks of hard white bone replacing its hands, and between its wrists and waist were fleshy folds of leathery hide like the wings of a bat. With a shriek it leaped down into the lab, and grabbed Schroedecker's head in its talons.
"No escape, man," Fat Guy said to Rob. "Come with us quietly, or the Harpy will tear the old guy's head clean off. Doc Pfaltzer has her convinced that Scrote-Licker is the one responsible for her condition. She may be bird-brained now, but when she's pissed, watch out!"
"This is outrageous!" Schroedecker sputtered, even as the end of one of the Harpy's hooks was pressed against his throat and drew blood.
Rob was pretty sure he could talk his way out of this mess. "Relax, doc. I'll go see what they have to say." He went through the door, Fat Guy moving aside to let him pass. "I'll be back soon."
"Don't count on it," Shitman said with a smile.
Rob crossed Schroedecker's garden. His escort of mutants followed closely. They stepped over a wooden fence that had been knocked down, and crossed into a small park, where they came to a clearing shielded from view by trees and shrubs.
"I am glad to see you," Pfaltzer said, still grinning madly. "I'm glad to see that you are well."
Rob stared at the man, surrounded by his creations.
"I want you to join us," the doctor said with a stiff gesture. "We are a team now, a force unmatchable by man or nature. We can take what we want, when we want. We can, if we choose, rule this world. But that goal would be easier to attain if you joined us. Will you join my Apostles, and take me as your savior?"
Rob chuckled even though he was really nervous. "Rule the world? I can't even take care of myself without help. Thanks, but no thanks."
Pfaltzer blinked rapidly, his grin fading for a moment. "But think of what you have become. Think of the power you have. Think of the things it can bring you... the things you can take."
"I am thinking about it," Rob snapped. "I think about it all the time. I don't want to be like this. I hate it. I want to be the way I was."
Fat Guy crossed his arms. "Maybe you should reconsider."
"Shut up, fatso," Rob snarled. He was beginning to feel alarmed. There was a time when he hated confrontation. Now he felt urges surging through him. Every time they opened their mouths it enraged him. He wanted to kick the crap out of all of them. This, in turn, frightened him a little.
"I think," Shitman said ponderously, "That they are right."
"And I think you're full of shit," Rob snapped.
Pfaltzer frowned. He was looking at Rob as if seeing a madman.
Rob began to think Pfaltzer was seeing just that. He was afraid that the psychotic behavior displayed by the others was now finally beginning to appear in him. Of course, this made him angrier still.
"Mr. Collison," Pfaltzer said, "You misunderstand. I'm not offering you a choice. I created you, and if I will it, you will be destroyed, along with your pretty wife and that alter scheissekopf Schroedecker."
Rob turned to go. "You've already fucked up my life enough. Get lost."
Pfaltzer made a gesture, and all of the mutants moved in on Rob at once, from all four sides. The Harpy and Fat Guy threw themselves at him. Shitman and Bulimia Girl launched filth from sphincter and throat.
Rob didn't hesitate. He crouched, and jumped straight up. Two weeks ago, in the dead of night, Rob had spent six hours jumping onto and off of Schroedecker's roof. He got to the point where a twenty foot leap was actually fun. This time, he pushed himself higher.
He reached a height of fifty feet and seemed to hover a moment, looking down. He saw the blasts of filth from Bulimia Girl and Shitman cross the empty space where he had been and strike each other.
"Jesus!" Shitman yelled, staggering backwards under a torrent of puke.
A turd as dark and dense as stone bounced off of Bulimia Girl's chin and she stumbled forward like a dazed prize-fighter.
The Harpy had taken a swing with her deadly hooks, slicing empty air, and then she bounced off of Fat Guy's advancing bulk. Her hooks whistled, and one of them buried itself in Bulimia Girl's forehead.
Rob began to fall.
The Harpy pulled its hook out of BG's forehead. It was like tapping a beer keg. Bulimia Girl's eyes rolled up as her brains began pissing out of the hole in her skull. The Harpy shrieked, looking for Rob.
Shitman muttered, "Hey, anybody got a towel or something?" as he wiped vomit out of his eyes.
Bulimia Girl collapsed, already dead.
Fat Guy scratched his head and wheezed and looked confused.
From above it looked as if Fat Guy was pointing at his huge fat head, so Rob used that as a landing place. He came down with a crunch, flexing his legs like big springs. If not for Fat Guy's thick skull and fat neck, Rob would have killed him instantly.
Shitman saw Rob falling on Fat Guy and shuffled backwards towards Rob, lining up his ass.
The Harpy saw Rob coming too, and used her bat-like wings to rise a few feet into the air and swing down at him, but he batted her gleaming white hook away even as he was bouncing up into the air again.
The Harpy's hook flayed Fat Guy's belly open and as he looked down and whispered, "Agh, you bi..." a spectacular torrent of guts poured out of him, engulfing her and cutting off her air. As she fell, her hook, still flying beyond her control, buried itself in Shitman's left buttock.
He screamed and began to dance. In trying to escape he pulled the Harpy free of the suffocating mountain of internal organs which had fallen on her, and then wrenched himself off of her hook, leaving a chunk of assmeat stuck to the bony talon. He limped on, disappearing among the trees.
Rob landed safely on the grass a few feet away.
There was a gunshot, and Rob felt a sting as a tiny morsel of flesh was blasted away from his right earlobe. He glanced at Pfaltzer, who was holding a pistol, and then looked up as the Harpy shrieked again, from where she hovered above him.
Rob was unarmed. Fucked, he thought, I'm fucked. Then he raised him arm, open-handed, and swung it down with all his strength.
Rob's arm moved incredibly fast. His palm displaced enough air at a great enough speed that there was a sonic boom. Pflatzer jumped and nearly dropped the pistol.
Rob reached into his jeans pockets and did a quick inventory as the Harpy descended and Pfaltzer raised the gun again. Zippo, keys, change, unwrapped stick of gum covered in pocket lint... He brought out a nickel and threw it at Pfaltzer just as the Harpy dropped on him.
Her hooks were flailing madly, and he was so busy batting them away that he didn't have the opportunity to get in a solid, disabling hit. One hook pierced the flesh of his right thigh. The other sank into his left shoulder.
The Harpy's head tilted to one side and then darted forward, and her massive beak closed on his face, engulfing his nose and mouth.
Rob was in pain and didn't know what the fuck he should do next. He took a deep breath, and then realized that the Harpy had stopped moving. He had sucked the air out of her lungs. Her beak loosened its hold on his face. Rob took another deeper breath, getting a little fresh air, and then he forced his face against her sharp-edged beak, and blew.
There was an immediate muffled wet splatting sound, and the Harpy collapsed. Her lungs had exploded like cheap balloons.
Pfaltzer was lying on the ground a few feet away, the gun out of reach, and a nickel-sized hole in his head just over his left eye. He was twitching and gurgling, one dark eye glaring at Rob then rolling away, glaring at Rob again then wandering again, the other eye still and clouding over.
Rob went back to the house to check on Schroedecker. As he made sure the old man was okay he thought he heard a helicopter, and by the time they returned to the clearing, every trace of the fight was gone.
User Reviews
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-03 11:42:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Supreme Overlord damage control...
Submitted by Supreme_Overlord (user info) at 2005-07-21 22:22:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shite
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-02-08 13:29:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-25 18:28:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-01-25 13:21:14 (#)
Ranking: 2
That was totally awesome. I am curious though; what inspired you to create a bunch of super villains who use bodily fluids as weapons? There better not be a Spooge Man, or a Jism Lad or anything like that.
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Just fell out of my chair laughing! Jism Lad!
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-01-25 18:16:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-01-25 13:21:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That was totally awesome. I am curious though; what inspired you to create a bunch of super villains who use bodily fluids as weapons? There better not be a Spooge Man, or a Jism Lad or anything like that.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-24 01:11:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great Stuff!
Submitted by FuckTheArmy (user info) at 2005-01-24 00:58:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Only four are dead. Sweet. Plenty of room to write much more of this awesome stuff.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-01-23 19:39:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wooohooo!
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2005-01-23 15:02:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
AWESOME!!
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2005-01-23 13:33:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude. Bulimia Girl, awesome!