It’s been a tough week with only one good arm. So many things I missed. Huge milkshakes. Giving people the finger while driving. Dicing, but not slicing. On the plus side, I got to ask people if they could give me a hand all the time. That joke just never gets old as far as I tell it.
Don’t think for a second that I’ve been idle, however. One hand is more than enough for me to get involved in something dirt under the table.
First off was grabbing some money. Normally I’m one to shout and wave around as I rob a bank or something, but this time I went for a more underhanded method of making money. Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the armored car’s underside.
I kinda hoped it would flip it, but the blast wasn’t strong enough. Everyone knows chicken doesn’t have enough kick. Maybe I need to add more kangaroo. Toad would be cheaper, if I could stand to go to Louisiana. Or just add some touches of a stronger animal, like a buffalo, to my chicken grenade next time. The target skidded to a stop, but the guards inside radioed for backup instead of heading out after me right away. Suited me just fine. I was too busy riding Moai like a cowboy, complete with a hat, jeans, and boots, as my mute minion rammed the rear of the truck to open it up before us. There was a guard in the back. He wasted his bullets on me, then I tossed him outside and had Moai sit on him. I’m thinking I might have to get my little rock hard buddy laid, because he sat on the fellow’s face.
Ah well, I guess it saves the guy the trouble of explaining how he got robbed and just think of all the nice insurance money his family gets now. That must have been the best day of his life! Oh, right…
So we got away with the money no problem. Not enough time for anyone to come running, least of all the spandex avenger and her father, paparazzi.
The cash was merely a way to help pay for things I needed to do to get ready for her.
Chief among those things I’ve been doing is setting up a nice little prank. It took some doing. There was information to obtain, for one thing. I needed a couple of addresses, a few spare parts, a phone number, and a little bit of time for recon. The addresses were to some other villains’ lairs. The recon was making sure they were actually there, and the parts were so I could put together something like a signal intercepter, only one that works for phone lines now. I can call anywhere around the world as much as I like with that thing, so long as Captain Flamebeard keeps paying his service. He may also get some unusual charges this month involving phone calls to an authentic Thai midget paraplegic phone sex service. I swear, all we did is talk. Can’t a guy like me get lonely without it all be about prostitution to you dirty-minded individuals?
I swear, you readers and your dirty minds. That Thai guy had one hell of a voice though. Like a very confused Barry White mixed with Patrick Stewart. Probably confused because they were now one person in the body of a Thai midget paraplegic.
Hey, back to the main story, you guys. There will be time for phone sex later. This is not going to be like Holdout, where I just issue a challenge so she’ll show up and attack, attack, attack, or like back in Kingscrow when the plan was to cause a lot of chaos to make the other person look bad. Both are good options, but that’s now how I’m taking this. Right now I’m just going to sit in this room with a knife and a phone and a computer, and we’re going to have a little chat with Venus. I’d like to say it’s because she’s tied up and I’m forcing her to listen to the recorded noises of the Thai midget, but I’m afraid that’s Plan D.
Plan A involves me giving her a little call. I’m going to keep a log of this in real time and post it, so don’t be overly confused by the change in tense. Unless you’re Barry White and Patrick Stewart possessing the body of a Thai midget paraplegic.
That phone number I had to pay for was for Venus. Wow, feel that? According to this gizmo I’ve got built in to the computer, the creepiness of the room just went up tenfold. It’s ringing…it’s ringing…it’s still fucking ringing…when I get her, her throat’s going to be rung…and we’re at voicemail. “Attention, doer of good, and other things that are not bad. It is I, Psycho Gecko, your worst nightmare! I was calling to threaten you and I don’t want you just calling back, so I’m going to try again now. Wait, did you pick up? Oh yeah, that doesn’t work on cell phones. Ok, so I’m hanging up now. Um. Have a nice day.”
Let’s try this again.
Ringing…ringing…ah, here we go, “Greetings, Venus, and quake with fear, for it is I, Psycho Gecko, calling you.”
“What are you doing calling me? Wanting to talk me into best two-out-of-three?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Besides, you know that not everyone sees that as a loss on my end, exactly.”
“I know. I would say I won on your end, but there is something to be said in the media for a guy nuts enough to rip his own arm off when he’s about to get beaten. That must be what happens when a gecko doesn’t have a tail to lose instead.”
“You either went too far or I wanted it too much in the eyes of all those impressionable young potential recruits out there. Either way, I am unsatisfied with a tie.”
“Oh, is this about soothing that wounded pride? I’ve heard about you and Holdout.”
“I don’t care what you’ve heard, there was nothing between us. I just tied him up and the oil was about setting the mood!”
“I know about you trying to kill him all those times. We actually share information on this side. You keep fighting us and eventually we’ll narrow down your habits, your hideaways, even who you really are and where you really come from.”
“I’m really Psycho Gecko and I’m really from another dimension.”
“Uh huh. More than likely you’re some guy who never got any attention, from women or otherwise, and found or bought your stuff from some other minor league villain. Don’t think for a second any of us believe you’re actually supposed to be crazy. You come across like an annoying jackass’s version of acting crazy. And let me tell you, what kind of a dumbass name is-“
“Ok, ok, I get it you don’t like me, you don’t believe me, and you think I have stupid hair. Would you like to know how I feel about you?”
“Not really. You’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Right. I’m of two minds about you. On the one hand, there’s a part of me that thinks it is good that I fight you and people like you. People who can actually stand a fighting chance against me straight up, unlike the regular folks out there or your less-powerful or –skilled brethren. It reminds me of when I get stuck in my ways, even if those ways involve loud murder, and allows me a chance to work outside whatever comfort zone I’m establishing. That’s not so bad.”
“Let me guess, the other imaginary voice in your head wants to seduce me to the dark side?”
“Ain’t nobody in this noggin’ but me, but my other way of thinking is that I’d really prefer if fewer heroes were as smart and skilled as yourself. I like taking it easy too. Hey, you know what would really change the subject? Why do you do this, Venus? Why go out and get into a brawl with nice guys like myself for the sake of some school when you could be stopping crime?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Oh, what, did your trace really finish that quickly? I’m in a nice little house on North McClean. Answer me and I’ll tell you the number so you can come on over.”
“Doing what I do draws in kids with powers or without who want to help stop crime and people like you so we can help them, train them, and every time I beat a supervillain, that’s one last bad guy out there running amok.”
“Allow me to tell you why I run amok. Let’s say one day you’re cooking popcorn and your microwave explodes. You curse, you threaten to make the popcorn company rue the day they crossed you, then you go out to buy a new microwave. Who do you see behind the counter at the store? Not a guy with white eyes and power armor named Psycho Gecko, that’s who! Now be a good girl and show up at this address as fast as your little legs can run.”
I give her the address.
“This is a trap,” she says. No questioning in her voice.
“Of course, but you’ll run into it because,” and here I motion with my weak left hand to Moai at the computer behind and to my left. A wet fart issues from the speakers near myself and the phone. I wave more frantically at Moai to hit the right button, “scuse me, that wasn’t supposed to,-” and that’s when the sound of a baby crying starts up from the speakers, “woops, looks like I woke up the baby. Here, let me just put this down and I’ll rock it back to sleep.” I slam the blade of the knife I mentioned into the desk I’m sitting at with a thunk that should be recognizable. “Hush little baby. You’ll want to get your sleep. Aye, to sleep, there’s the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. Yeah, Venus, it’s a trap. It’s the most fly trap you’ve ever walked into, Venus and you’re going to walk into it.”
I hang up.
There, all in good fun. Venus is about to rush head-on into the safehouse of that fire and ice guy I had a confrontation with at the bar the day I fought her. They go by Flamethrower and Snowblower. I really hope the names match their powers, otherwise that’s one hell of a thing for the fire guy to name himself after. I’m keeping the address secret from y’all on the off chance that other criminals use that place in your world. Honor among thieves, and all that.
I expect she’ll thrash them soundly, but it beats up two birds with one stone. No doubt she also had them run a trace on the call anyway. It will certainly give a different address than the house I sent them to. Thanks to the signal interceptor at Captain Flamebeard’s, she’ll pay him a visit next.
As for me, I’m going to be here, working on my armor. It is nearly 100%. My arm is also not quite up to snuff, but it should get there. Most importantly, I now get to scheme a scheme and try to base it on how she claimed she was helping people to strike at the very being of her soul! Bwahahahahahaha!
Shiiii-take mushroom! Moai, that’s the last time I put you on sound effect duty! Don’t make me have to-
*Moan* “Till the break of dawn, baby got it goin’ on, a lot of simps won’t like this song, ‘cause them punks like to hit it and quit it, and I’d rather stay and play…”