 
## INFAMOUS

### Seth Martin

Copyright 2020 Seth Martin

Smashwords Edition

### Story List:

### Infamous For Hire

### Arrival at Hell's Gate

### A Nuclear Fall in LA

### Assassin's Game (Bonus)

## Please Note

This short story collection contains content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Every story contains vulgar language, graphic violence, and sexual references. NOTHING in here, whether it'd be the protagonist or the setting, is meant to be taken seriously nor is it meant to be believable in any way. If you're easily offended by content you find crude, violent, edgy, ridiculous, or raunchy, then this may not be the book for you. Also, any references to celebrities, other peoples' works, and pop culture are intended to be nothing more but jokes and/or shout-outs. Anyways, thank you and enjoy!

## INFAMOUS FOR HIRE

Finch Ferris, a loony, self-aware mercenary with a penchant for violence and batshit insanity, embarks on a typical misadventure alongside his best friend John Adoniyah, a moody, jaded 16-year-old who's been at Finch's side long enough to know his antics and his own mortality. Together, they'll embark on three assassination missions all across Southern California. Chances of success and consequences will vary.

### Another Day at The Office

Finch Ferris

"Nathan McHale." I read my target's name on the dossier, "CFO of Hildebrand Atomics as of 2018. Funded numerous unethical research projects in biotechnology, nuclear weapons, and small arms. Tested the effects of radioactive exposure in Los Angeles again by leaking nuclear waste into the LA water system. And kicked five puppies into the 105 Freeway, all of'em ran over by oncoming vehicles. ASSHOLE!!!"

John was busy reading the most recent issue of Verity Fair, "Five puppies? Get the pencil."

I closed the file and tossed it into the backseat of my Urban Kommando.

"Alright!" I grabbed by sexy katana and M1911 from the back, "A straight to the point, easy for the readers to hate and forget villain! This should be a cinch! Get it, John? Cause it – "

John put the issue down and turned his head, "Yes, Finch. But do you mind if I ask why we're invading a Hildebrand Atomics building after raiding their old facility back in LA? You do remember what happened after, right?"

"Sorry, the author didn't write an interquel." I grabbed another M1911 and cocked it, "He should though. I mean, our stories connect! Not like At the Wolves' Gate and The Blue Radiation even though they're both post-apocalyptic short stories."

"The Wolves' and Blue what?"

With my katana, two M1911s, an M4A1, and a lightsaber toy, I stepped out of the Kommando and approached the entrance of the Hildebrand Atomics corporate building. With my ingenuity, mad skillz, Navy SEAL experience, and being a six-year mercenary, I had my first contract job in two months all planned out! All I needed to do was walk into the building, take out the contract, and get my 20 million! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

Taking a deep breath of the nice, polluted air of the fine, fictional city of Eris, California, I walked into the entrance of the Hildebrand Atomics building with a big smile, knowing this was gonna be easy-peasy! Opening the glass doors, I stepped inside the Hollywood-level luxury lobby and pulled out my shiny, pretty katana in front of all the heavily-armed, easy-to-forget mooks that had their awesome TAR-21s aimed at me the second I walked inside the big skyscraper!

"It's him!" One spoke up as he took cover behind a pretty potted plant, "That lunatic from their old factory!"

Several women in black, Trinity jumpsuits popped up outta nowhere! Fucking invisibility! How awesome is that!?!?

"Alright! It's time to bring American fucking justice!"

And cue the gunfire! Because they started shooting at me. The ninja ladies charged toward me, activating their dual neon swords! NEON SWORDS!!!! Anywho, I got to slicin-and-dicin with the ninjas with my katana, getting the first two that came up to me. Well, alright, it was the heads to be more specific, and that was after some sliceys to their chesteys. But anywho, two more of them ran up. I proceeded to do the same toward the ninjas, pulling out my trusty Colt .45 M1911 to kill some a couple commandos while I got in an awesome swordfight with the ninjas! Not one, but two of'em!! Too bad I killed them too quickly! I also coulda took their neon swords too but I sliced'em both in half so they were useless!

Oh, well! There were still four more assassins to take swords from, and plenty of commandos to shoot so it was okay! I decided to have some fun with the armed guards so I switched my katana with my other M1911. Now I had two M1911s! Not one, but two for the price of one! I used'em both to shoot at the guards, who had TAR-21s, G36s, and P90s at their disposal. I was gonna bring a couple of P90s of my own but nothing beats the M1911! A handgun, made from a more civilized age...kind of. Actually, it was more racist and homophobic back then, never mind.

Anywho, I charged into the lobby, scoring some awesome kills on the way to the front desk. There, two guards, reeking in HAMMER body spray, rose up from cover to pummel me with more bullets. After three shots to the head, I jumped up onto the desk and pulled an even more awesome jump! Both handguns, each aimed at one guard taking cover behind the desk, scored a kill for themselves in mid-air Matrix-style. As I landed on the shiny, marble floor, I turned around and delivered one last barrage of lead-filled awesome. Four kills, three headshots, six bullets. One went through one guy's head into another!

"Fuck yeah!" I turned around to face the three elevators, "Awesome first action scene!"

I ran straight into one of the elevators. Taking the middle one, I pressed the top floor number to take me straight to my contract! I told John I had everything worked out! I was just two gunfight scenes of the short story away to wasting McHale and claim our big bucks! Well, at least it would've been if the author didn't decide for HildeAtomics to cut the power just halfway to the top floor! Now it was gonna be even more filler fight scenes to fit that 8,000-word quota! Damnit, Seth Martin, gimme my money!

Anywho, the doors opened up, revealing a Kardashian assload of minions!

"Hey, fellas!" I pulled out my katana, "Wanna play? Cause I wanna!"

Charging up to the mercs at the very center of the upper lobby, I gave three swings at the first few in line for a game of Slicey-Dicey! One each to the first three assassin-looking dudes! Another wanted to play, so I sliced him in half. The next dude came from behind, so I took out my M1911 and scored a kill!

"Ten points!" I said.

Anywho, they began firing their cool weapons at me. Shooting down a couple mooks, I threw my katana into the crowd, scoring kills from two commandos and three assassins. I used my sole M1911 to score some more kills as I raised my left hand in the air, bringing back my sexy samurai toy for use as I made my way to the elevator on the other side of the floor. When I was so close to it, the elevator doors opened up, revealing even more baddies; Two assassins and three commandos, all of whom poured out like erm...err...orange juice out of a bottle. No, no, wait. A waterfall! Nope. All outta ideas.

As they came out, I readied my blade for a touchdown! And I could've made one had one of the assassins not pulled out theirs and penetrated me in the tummy! Nah, I'm just playing with ya, readers! For I, have immortality! Or invulnerability...or invincibility. The first sounds cooler.

Tossing my blade into the elevator, I only managed to score the deaths of the two commandos, but I did manage to get my katana inside so GOOOOAAAAAALLLLL!!!! For the two assassins, well – I know I'm not supposed to shoot a girl, but I did it anyway. But hey! To be honestly, super fair, they did penetrate me with their cool little neon cyberpunk swords, so self-defense! And to top it all off, they didn't fall to the floor. These ladies were tough-as-nails so...Girl Power?

Well putting that aside, I ran straight into the elevator. Pulling my katana out of the sleek, glass wall, I pressed the button that should've took me to the top floor. And whaddaya know, audience? It actually did! No stretching out filler dialogue or my narration in the first part of this short story! That comes later!

But man, when those doors opened, were those boys ready for a good time! As I presented myself to my contract, who sat behind his desk on the far side of the room. Walking right into a straight path leading all the way to my contract, his guards were legion for they were many! And ready too because they had guns, and swords, which was gonna make this fight way more awesome! If only I had one free hand, I'd tape this so my fellow Infamous and internet friends could see it!

"You can't get through my men, Ferris!" Said my contract from over the comms, "We've got you outnumbered!"

For one moment, I exchanged my M1911 for my phone so I could get a couple selfies in front of the guards, "You know who I am?"

"We clocked you ever since you invaded our old facility back in LA!"

"Wasn't that place abandoned in 2016?"

"It was, but we kept tabs on it when the Nukists took over two years later."

"Oh..." I re-exchanged my phone for my pistol, "...Well, anywho, I gotta kill ya so I can make money and YOU KILLED FIVE PUPPIES!!!!!"

"Guards!"

Alright! We were gonna have a party scene! With my toys in hand, I charged toward my contract. The guards lit me up with hot, sexy lead, most of them going into my head and chest. Man, these guys are professionals! Well, were professionals because I started killing them cause they were trying to kill me, starting with two guys behind the big, wooden tables used for meetings where guys in suits talk corporate stuff they kicked down for cover. To the left of me, three had the same idea. I threw my shiny katana into the right table, penetrating the fine, olive brown wood. Heehee...penetrate!

"Gagh!" A guard gagged from behind that very table.

In that very moment, I fired my sweet M1911 at the guys taking cover behind the other one. Running towards my katana, I saw that I managed to score a kill on the other side. I pulled out my beauty and jumped over the table at the dick – I mean nick of time to see a guy collapse on the floor on his stomach, exposing a big stabhole, earning me 20 points for a sword kill! Yes! Anywho, after slicing his buddy's head off, which was awesome to see soar across the air and land in a trashcan! TOUCHDOWWWN!!!!! I used the last of my bullets on the guys on the other side, scoring two more kills.

Switching my M1911 for my M4A1, I continued my run for my contract. On the way, I threw my sword at one dude firing at me from cover behind the edge of a glass window, penetrating him in the chest. I then scored a headshot with my assault rifle from another doing the same but behind a wall and some chest hits to his buddy shooting me next to him.

"Damnit!" Shouted McHale, "Where're my assassins??"

Out of plot convenience, three of those hot assassin chicks appeared around me.

"Now that's lazy writing!" I said as I twirled my katana, "Also, found'em!"

The chicks went to work cutting me like a pepperoni pizza, but they couldn't manage to slice any limbs off. But don't worry, readers! They grow back! Anywho, kicking one in the face down to the floor, I sliced off one head and did a 360 jump, kicking it into the head of an oncoming commando who squeezed a shell in my lung. The third slit my throat, so I delivered back with a few rounds in her tummy and the two commandos wanting to play.

Then outta nowhere, something penetrated me. I looked down to see a katana decorated with neon lights shoved right up Main Street! I looked further down to see the pseudo-kinky act was done none other than the assassin whose face I kicked a paragraph ago.

"Well, someone's ready to go to Third Base!" I said to the assassin chick, "I like your strategy!"

"Shut. Up." Said the rude lady.

And without a chance to talk about getting some dinner, the lady pulled her blade outta me.

"Aw, c'mon! I barely – "

The assassin got up with the help of her katana, "What did I just say!?"

"I wasn't even finished!"

Standing back up, she swung her blade at my head one more time. Thanks to my awesome reflexes, I pulled my head away and went slicey-dicey with her chest and eventually her head, which did not make a landing in the other trash can in the area! Damnit! Well, it least landed inside a tall plant nesting neatly in one corner of the four-way intersection.

"What're you guy's waiting for!?"

I turned to the far side of the top floor where my contract was. There were still plenty of baddies to kill!

"Stop him!"

My common sense sensed another paragraph of fast-paced, filler action! I charged right into it by running into his office. The swarms of minions came charging right back! And they had the chance to take the first shot, mostly at my head, so I swung my M4A1 and fired right back with a bunch of bullets! But none managed to kill any of'em! All they did was knock the baddies back! But don't worry, readers! I got my lucky katana! I charged further into the minion-y swarm and went swinging! Then I finally scored more kills!

"SLICING AND DICING!!!!" I said while scoring some more kills with the addition of my sexy M4, "THIS IS AWESOME!!!!!"

"Goddamnit!" Yelled McHale, "What can stop this lunatic!?"

"Not much as far as I know!" I answered my contract's question, "Bullets, explody things, swords, nothing works!"

Eventually, all the people were dead, which sucks because I enjoyed the fight! I wanted to try more of the katana/M4 combo for at least a dozen more baddies! Oh well! I still had my contract to deal with! Putting my assault rifle away, I ran up to Nathan and did an awesome flip-jump over his olive-green desk and my gray-suited contract. Landing just behind him, I rammed his head into the wood.

"Agh!" He grunted in pain, "Not my desk! I just got it cleaned!"

"Ah, don't worry about it!" I pulled him out of his chair, "You won't need it, anyway!"

"Fuck you, Finch Ferris!" He angrily said my name, "You think we didn't recognize you when you came in? We've known your name ever since you raided our old factory in LA!"

I was busy making a call on my phone, "Huh? Were you sayin something?"

My employer got on the line.

"Hey, Finch here! I got Nathan McHale here. So uh, do I kill'im or hand'im over? I much prefer the former because he KILLED FIVE PUPPIES!!!! Alrighty, then!"

As I put away my phone (that I just outfitted with a Hello Kitty cover!), I turned to my contract, who was suddenly running up to me. I quickly moved to the side and scoured my sexy orange, spandex suit to find a red cloth. When I did find it, I was too late! My contract ran right out the window!

"Aw, c'mon!" I dropped the cloth, "That was my one moment to try out my red cloth! There's no bulls or cows in this city nor LA!"

I ran up to the window to see my contract lying on the ground far below.

"Aw, fucksnotshitface!" I put away my katana, "Oh, well! I have avenged those five puppies! They can rest easy now. And I GET MONEY!!!!"

Since my work was done anyway, I jumped down the destroyed window and landed on the sidewalk. Once my bones regenerated, I instantly got up to get a look at my dead contract, who was lying on some poor dude's car flat as a pancake. Mmm...pancakes.

Anywho, my car was conveniently parked behind the ruined one. John was still inside, lounging on the passenger seat that he reclined all the way back with his feet kicked up, texting on his phone.

"Oh, God!" He stared at me and my dead contract in apparent disgust over something, "Nasty!"

"What's nasty?" I asked John who looked all queasy.

John rudely ignored my question and went back to texting on his phone.

"Gotta finish your Tweets, eh?"

"Just shut the hell up and get in!"

"Alrighty!" I jumped over the hood of my car and whooshed right into the open driver window. Plopping my sexy ass on the fine, leathery seat, I started the ignition and drove away with a smile on my face.

After he finished his Tweet, John asked me, "The hell happened up there?"

"Well, my goth friend, for once I didn't do a thing!" I kept all eyes on the road.

"By not doing a thing, you mean you killed all the guards but not him because he fucked up tryna kill you?"

"Good prediction, Nostradamus!"

"So now what?"

"Now we get money and continue the short story..."

All Along The Ferris Wheel

Finch Ferris

"Finch." John called my name.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep bringing me to your bullshit mercenary jobs?" He asked with irritation, "You know I'm practically useless to you."

Shocked beyond belief, I stopped and gasped on the sidewalk on the way to my next contract.

"Johnathan Asriel Adoniyah!" I put the delicious, cherry-flavored Sippee away, "How could you say such a thing?? You have such potential in the Infamous! You're a great deuteragonist! Besides, every team of characters needs an emo, goth teen to complain about everything! Glad you look the part now!"

And boy, was I not joking! John has had quite the makeover these past few months! He dyed his hair black back in January, and combed it to cover the left side of his forehead. Anywho, he was in style with that black, leather, hoodie jacket that had some weird yellow foliage graphics on it. Beneath that, he wore a gray muscle shirt with the "JOHNATHAN TREE" logo on a graphic of that forbidden fruit tree from that boring Bible book. And he actually had torn jeans for once, and black boots! I was so happy for John when I saw all that, wearing what matched his personality! Moody, grumpy, jaded, and cynical!

"First, goths and emos are two different kinds of people." He proved his status as emo, goth teen, "Second, it's YOU that lives up to our name. Me, Rey and Hilde don't do shit aside from follow you into batshit insanity itself."

And here we are! The good ol' Santa Monica Pier! My favorite place to hang out with John, Rey, and Hilde at! Well, it was until it fucking closed down! Now I had no place to sit around at! I mean, there was the Griffith Observatory they banned me for sleeping behind Uranus next to a homeless dude and a woman in erm...a Wonder...Lady outfit in a blanket. I don't know why they see it as such a big deal! It gets cold in there! Those jerks towed my Urban Kommando too!

"Huh, you know." I took a sip of my Sippee, "You're right!"

John cocked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yeah! We need more members! You know anyone else in LA?"

John just stared at me without saying anything, like a cold, alluring assassin checking you out to see if you're a threat, kinda like my fellow mercenary Hardline whenever I try to cheer'im up with my jokes! He always loves sticking that two-bladed staff of his in my head right after too. Other days he just shoots me! Such a stick in the mud.

But then, his eyes darted to the side, then his head tilted, "Actually...I do know a couple guys in Compton that might wanna do something different for a change. One's a good guy, the other's an idiot."

"Alright! Cool! I know some guys myself!" I pulled out my phone, "Just lemme make a couple calls."

While I was searching for Hotshot's number, John spoke up, "Hey!"

"Not now, John. I'm tryna call Hotshot."

My eyes noticed my good friend pointing at something behind me, "Hey, douchebag!"

I turned my head to see a familiar face in the distance, standing on the roof of the Kutsuna Eats restaurant next to the Hildebrand Pride Shop, both of which for some reason had armored trucks with single blue stripes parked in front of them. There were also some armed men standing outside too.

"Oh, hey, Leon!" I waved to Hotshot, who just so happened to be in the same place as us.

"Hey, Ferris!" He waved back, "You see my recent Insta post?"

"Yeah, man! That was awesome!"

"What Insta post?" John chimed in.

"Leon took his target's arm off and made his fingers flip the bird in a selfie! Hilarious!"

"Of course it is."

"So what brings ya out here, Leo?"

"Contract work, amigo!" He activated his green-lit eye visor, "David Tammy, Negamaster of the Nukist gang!"

"David Tammy??" John and I looked to each other, "That's my target!"

"Oh..."

And he just started running! What the shit, man!? That's the uncoolest thing ever! My other fellow mercenary and best friend in the business, Leon fucking Traviss, was gonna kill my target when I was gonna kill him! HOW DARE HE!!! NOBODY WAS GONNA GET THAT MONEY! I NEED IT FOR...erm...stuff. BUT THAT'S STILL WRONG!!!

"HEY!!!!" I shouted at Leon as he ran off like a big jerk! "THAT'S MY CONTRACT!!!" I turned to John, "C'mon, Johnny A! Let's make some money!"

I took off down the ramp to stop Hotshot from stealing my money. That little thief!

John muttered before catching up, "Great..."

Pulling out my katana, I ran into the Kutsuna Eats sushi place. Crashing through the glass doors, the guards with cool cybernetic thingies on their bodies I passed by gave chase. But I didn't fucking give a fucking shit!! My best friend was trying to take my kill!!! MY CONTRACT!!! Anywho, I had to make a quick stop at the restaurant. I just needed one second to grab as much free sushi as I could and stuff it in my sexy spandex suit before -

"Hey!" A guy screamed out from the door.

I turned my head to the guard, "Aw, c'mon! Lemme get this sushi so I can get to David Tammy before Hotshot!"

"Pier's closed, asshole!" One rudely reminded me!

"Hey!" I stuffed some sushi in my mouth because I'm hungry as shit, "I got rights! I'm American! I served in the Navy SEALs so I should have every right to steal this sushi! I'm also the protagonist too so the rules don't apply to me."

"Shoot this freak!"

The badass cyborg commando guys fired their weapons at me, filling me with hundreds of bullets, AND ALL MY SUSHI!!! AND MY SIPPEE!!!!! I JUST BOUGHT THE LATTER AND STOLE THE FORMER!!! COCKFUCKLE FUCKFACE!!!!! I took out my katana so they could ALL DIIIEEEEEE!!!!

"Time to diiieee!" I pressed a button that was never on my katana before. The blade lit up, glowing a nice orange, "Hey, it lights up!"

One commando lamented, "Aw, man. You got an orange lightsaber? All I keep finding are blue and red. Even the Comic Cons don't have shit!"

Fun fact: I'm officially banned from all Comic Cons in Canada! I dared John to punch Ryan Reynolds in the face. When he did, I got blamed for it instead of punching a guy in a W40K Space Marine cosplay for trying to report me for smoking weed with Darth Vader and a bunch of Stormtroopers.

But on that note, "Lightsaber??" I looked down at my own weapon, "Oh, this is a lightsaber. Where's my katana? Oh, well!"

I threw my lightsaber at the commandos. As they shot me up again, I pulled out my dual M1911s and ran to cover behind a table as I shot at the guys coming in. I scored two kills by two chest hits and a headshot before taking cover. After one second, I rose up to deliver another awesome barrage of 45. Caliber bullets. This time, I scored three kills! And when I got up, I found two katanas, both sitting there all shiny and sexy like mine before I somehow lost it! But these ones had these engravings on the handles and the blades, saying something in Japanese, probably something generically badass like "Dragon Warrior" or "Hand of Fire" or something. Anywho, I snatched'em up before any of the cyborg mercs could claim them as their own.

"Yayeah!" I held them up in the air with a big smile on my face. I then caught eye of the mercs with their sexy weapons, "MINE!!!!"

My fellow mercenaries fired away, with no inch of respect to a man who just wanted to get some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant! Do these people have any idea how long I've been waiting to get some decent food around here?? Well, anywho, climbing up a table, I leaped toward the mercs, scoring two head slices with my two new blades on the way down! Landing on the maroon carpet, my body rolled until I got back on my two feet again. With three mercs left, I tested out my new toys one more time, scoring two flying heads and one torso!

"Oh, man!" I checked out my swords, "These're awesome! Thank you, Kutsuna Eats!"

Looking back outside, I totally realized something, and I knew it was important.

"Shiiiiiiit! I gotta get my contract before that backstabbing jerk takes it!"

I instantly ran outside, taking the moment to take in the nightly, polluted, Los Angeles air before resuming the plot, making my way to the end of the Pier. But passing by the Hildebrand Pride Shop, I had to make another stop after hearing John's voice from inside. He sounded like he was having a fun time! Buuuuut we were working so I had to nab him so he could get some job experience as an intern. Running inside, I also overheard two women going at it too!

Once I heard the ladies, I instantly went to the counter to see two short-haired, butch-looking women that looked about his age perk their heads up above the counter alongside my best friend.

"You certainly got a type, John!" I told him while looking away.

"Wha...Finch?"

The two women instantly flipped out.

"What the fuck!?" One of them yelled out.

"Get the hell outta here!" Said the other.

"The fuck're you doing here??" My friend asked.

"Working, my little intern! You know, I brought ya here so you could get some job training!"

With pissed off-edness, he started getting up, "Fine! We finished up already. Sorry, ladies. But I gotta go to work."

As he grabbed his goth clothes, I turned away as soon as he exposed himself by getting up. While he was busy putting his clothes on, I took the opportunity to prepare for Pride Month by taking a couple rainbow stickers, a unicorn T-shirt, and a pair of pansexual flag-tinted aviators. From the corner of my eye, I notice the two butch ladies staring at me.

"You gonna pay for those?" Asked the one with short black hair.

"I ain't payin for these!" Said John.

I turned to John, back in his gothy clothes, snatching up some LGBT merchandise, most of'em stickers, and stuffing'em in his jacket.

"Aww, you gonna represent too?" I asked John.

"What? Nah, I'm straight. I'm just fulfilling my shoplifting quota for the day." He tossed some bisexual and rainbow flag stuff to his two one-night stands. He showed me some pansexual flag stickers.

"You're pansexual, right Finch?"

"Yup!" I happily confirmed, "The author decided to make me pansexual because he's pansexual too! He didn't give me his disability though."

"Whatever you say, Finch."

John and I immediately ran outside and went back to work by resuming our run to the end of the pier.

Now that I got my sidekick back, the plot had no time to waste! Not even for the FUCKING HEADSHOTS I WAS GETTING FROM HOTSHOT ON THE WAY!!!!!! THAT GREEDY BASTARD!!!!! Anywho, taking the sole route there, we made it to the end of Santa Monica Pier. Entering the area, I saw the front entrance and the two buildings occupied by some familiar friends.

"Great." John stopped dead in his tracks alongside me, "More Nukists. They better not blow us into the ocean with those blasts of theirs."

I put one hand on John's shoulder, "Don't worry, Johnny A! I'm a diplomat!"

My goth friend cocked an eyebrow, "You're high off your ass right now, aren't ya?"

"I was the one who knocked behind the Four-Seven while you were gettin our Sippees. You gotta try that new stuff, John! It's Chaos Fire! Comes in orange! You'll lose your teeth in days!"

"Except you can't lose teeth because you're an Ultra, remember?"

As we stood, two Nukists walked up to us.

"Hey!" The Nukist on the left spoke up, "I know you!"

The one on the right was busy snorting a line of cocaine from the sleeve of his leather jacket.

"No you don't!" John responded with small panic in his voice before looking inside his jacket, "We're uhh...with the LGBT community! We're uhh...representin!"

"Really? Out here in the middle of the night?"

"It's Pride Month! We would like to speak with David Tammy."

"Sorry, he doesn't do butch lesbians."

I couldn't resist laughing next to John, "He called you a butch lesbian!"

John nudged me.

"That's butch bisexual to you!"

My friend then facepalmed.

"Now what the fuck do you want!?" The Nukist asked all mean!

"I'd like to speak to David Tammy, please!"

His buddy started coughing and gagging after sniffing up another line of coke off his arm. Looking closer at his sleeve, my eyes widened in glee over the sight of a familiar red residue powdered all over it.

"Hang on." I pointed at his friend, "Is that Red Mist!?"

He needed a moment to get a few more coughs out, "Yep."

"Aw, man! That's the best cocaine ever! And the coolest name ever!"

God, I love Red Mist...so much.

"Hell yeah, man! I do this blow every day!"

"Ya got any to spare for a fellow fan of recreational substances?"

The nuclear-powered jerk slapped his coke away, "Oh, hell no, man! Get your own!"

I tried reaching into his long, black leather jacket, "C'mon! Gimme!"

"Fuck you, man!"

The equally-high as a kite Nukist clenched his fists and powered himself up, summoning sparks of green energy all around that hunky, coke-fueled body of his. During his preparation, he reached into his jacket. I was hoping in that moment he was gonna bring some more of that sweet, cherry-flavored Red Mist, but it turned out to be a TEC-9 with a complementary nuclear symbol sticker on the handle.

"Uh, Finch?"

"I know, right, Johnny A? Feels just like yesterday when we got blown outta that old HildeAtomics place!"

"Hey, FinchFucker!" He pointed to the end of the pier.

I looked over to the very end to see an oncoming Nukist on this cool black motorycle, but with astute observation I saw that it wasn't just a Nukist, but the Nukist Negamaster, David Tammy! My contract! But man! If only this short story was in comic book, movie, or video game form, you'd see how awesome this motorcycle was! It had these green flames on the sides and a blue radioactive symbol on the front. I started drooling from the divine presence of the two M60s planted on both sides of the windshield! How come I don't have those for my motorcycle!? I wish I thought of that when I painted it hot pink last week for Pride Month! I already made my donations to The Michael Operation.

Anywho, erm...there was bit of a problem. But at the same time, AWESOME!!! Tammy came just in time for the big explosion about to be set off by his greedy, selfish cokehead minion! The second he arrived, said greedy, selfish cokehead finally let loose, unleashing a blast of green energy bigger than Kim Kardashian's big ass! John ran off before the big boom even happened, but the rest of us got to have the AWESOME experience of flying up in the air all the way onto the top of the Ferris Wheel of Santa Monica Pier! David Tammy managed to land into one of those pod thingies, the highest one too! I on the other hand landed on the white railing but I was close enough to my contract that I could still be the one to kill him and NOT MY TRAITOR OF A BEST FRIEND!!!!

"HA!" Tammy raised his fist in the air, "I'm still alive, you maniac!"

"Hey, so am I!" I responded while trying to stand up on the thin railing, "But that's okay! You don't have to count me! I can't die!"

"Oh, great!" He spit out the pod, "That's good to know, Deadpool!"

"HEY!!!! THAT'S FINCH FERRIS TO YOU!!!!!"

"Whatevs!"

I jumped onto the pod behind him. That Negamaster had the nerve to call me the name of another character of another franchise! What a jerk! And a meanie! Also, a dummy for trying to get us sued. Well, technically the author's for writing the dialogue in the first place! And this narration. And this line of narration. And this...and this.

But anywho, leaving the consequences to Seth Martin, I had money to make! Standing in the pod behind the one David Tammy was in, I pulled out my two katanas. But before I was gonna jump to his, two gunshots went off from below. I saw my contract collapse onto the ground immediately after!

"NO!!!" I jumped to the other pod, "MY MONEY!!!!"

Looking down at Tammy, I saw that jerk Hotshot was able to put two rounds in his tummy! But he was still alive, meaning I could still get my money! Ppppphhhht! That's me making spitting sounds to Hotshot!

And I could've way up there! It would've been a neat little place to end this part of the short story! But Tammy powered himself up right in the nick of his own time, generating yellow, radioactive energy which he then unleashed into another big awesome blast! I LOVE THESE BLASTS!!! BUT IT TOTALLY DESTROYED MY FAVORITE RIDE AT THE PIER!!!!!! YOU DICK!!!!

The blast sent me flying sky high, "YAAAAHHOOOOOO!!!!!" Then I fell back down to the ground, conveniently next to John who hid behind an armored van parked in front of the amusement park.

"Hey, John!" I waved to my best friend with my right hand, which was facing the wrong way.

"Oh, hell no!" He looked away, "I ain't watching that again!"

I let myself regenerate before getting up right back into the plot. I looked up at my favorite ride to see it in full collapse thanks to that fucking Negamaster of the Nukists! Hotshot was on the roof aiming that rifle I once got to try out right down at the ruins!

"Did ya get'im, finally?"

"Nope! Excuse me!" I ran back into the little amusement park katanas in hand.

Hotshot noticed my arrival immediately.

"Hey!" I pointed one blade at my fellow mercenary, "David Tammy's my contract! Go away!"

He pointed at the wreckage, "Uh, I don't think he's our contract anymore!"

I ran to the destroyed Ferris wheel just in time for the dust to clear up, revealing my contract, lying amongst the ruins with no head! When I saw him, I instantly got down on my knees and looked up into the sky.

"You maniac! You blew it up! And my contract!" I penetrated the wooden ground with one katana, "Damn you all to Hell!"

John walked up to me, taking a seat on a silver four-door.

I screamed at the heavens above, well, actually, the author, Seth Martin, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

John asked, "Can we go?"

### Enforced Insanity

John Adoniyah

"Hey, J." A familiar voice called my first initial.

Sitting on a bench, I got up to see my two best friends, Ash and Jermaine, walking up to me waving. Sighing in relief at the sight of at least one other sane person aside from Rey and Hilde, I jogged up to them in joy.

"Ash." I fist-bumped the silver-haired dude I knew in love, "Jermaine." And did the same to the idiot, gangster-wannabe that kept getting Ash into trouble.

"What's going on, John?" He asked, checking his surroundings, "Why're we all the way in Zero City? And who the hell's Finch Ferris?"

I put both hands on my hips, "Well...we're gonna kill a gang leader, and Finch? He's...Hell walking on Earth."

A familiar smell of Breaking Bad overtook my senses. Only one man I knew carried that scent, and he was right behind me. He had better not get that meth scent on my denim jacket, nor the black jacket under it!

I turned around to greet the redheaded, yellowed-eyed loon myself, "Hey, Finch."

"Hey, John!" He leaned to the side to get a good look at my friends, "You John's buddies?"

Jermaine spoke up, "Yo, whassup, man?"

Then Ash, "Hey."

Finch brought us all here in Zero City, California, another metropolis even more up north of Los Angeles, to have us help out in his latest shenanigans. His next job was to kill some supervillain, the Silver Sapphire...yep, that's who I was about to deal with. Okay, yeah, I'll admit, I wasn't sure why he brought us along. But then again, it wasn't like I had anything else better to do with my time. It beats doing stupid math tests in Liefeld Academy with a tight-ass professor.

"So lemme ask you something." I talked to Finch, "How exactly are you gonna do this shit?"

"Oh, well. It's easy!"

Bullshit.

"You guys're gonna get me in that building." He pointed up at the Blue Sapphire corporate skyscraper, "Once we're inside, I'm gonna take the nearest elevator, then I'm take it up to the top floor where the CEO works at and take out his bodyguard, the Silver Sapphire!"

With Ash's crossed arms and mine against my hips, I asked Finch, "And uh, how exactly are we supposed to get you inside? And furthermore, in what universe do you think this plan of yours'll go off without a hitch?"

"I'll get back to ya on the universe part. But anywho, plot convenience, John! You know how these stories go! Good guy goes into evil lair, kills the evil henchmen, battles the big baddie, kills big baddie, gets the girl, and goes home!"

"I don't think the rules apply to us, Finch. We're not exactly good nor evil."

"An astute observation, John! Also, shut up."

"No, no, no. Hold on!" Ash thankfully interrupted to add his two cents, "How the hell're we supposed to get you in there??"

30 MINUTES LATER...

"Help! Help!" Jermaine screamed in panic he and Ash dragged Finch through the entrance, "My friend's dying!!! Somebody, get us a doctor!!"

We managed to get Finch all the way to the damn lobby as per his request. The hot receptionist got up from her chair shouted out of real panic and picked her phone up off her sterile white desk. At least my lunatic friend's plan was going off without a fucking hitch. And let me add before I go on, if he was caught (the only worst-case scenario since he can't die), I had nothing to do with any of the bullshit that was about to happen nor Ash. Jermaine could take the heat for us, always has.

As the smoking hot lady was busy calling 911, Finch immediately got up off the floor and tried making a run for the elevators. Fucking loon.

"Psyche!" He jumped over the desk, the only thing that was between him and the three elevators, "See ya! Wouldn't wanna be ya, blondie! Except sleep with ya, of course!"

The woman suddenly stopped all attempts to get 911 on the line. I cocked an eyebrow when she took her gray suit jacket and pants off. At first, my horny mind told me she was gonna get naked and give me a run for my money, but then my rational side kicked in to warn me to find out she was wearing a skin-tight, leather suit. Then my horny side back to say she was gonna capture me and do some wild BDSM shit in her basement. And finally, the rational part of me had to point my eyes to the cool-looking handgun she pulled from her desk, pointing it directly at the maniac with the orange spandex suit.

"What the fuck??" Was all I could say to respond to the receptionist-turned-assassin lady.

She cracked a few shots at the crazy dude I knew in love. Obviously, she didn't know of his invincibility, nor the fact that firing a fucking gun could alert the pigs.

"Oh, fuck!" I jumped back from the gunfire.

My voice ended up getting her attention instantly. Once Finch managed to get into the elevator and make his way up the building, she had no one else to point her gun at but me, Ash, and Jermaine. I of course was the first dude for her to target for no goddamn reason. I didn't even have a gun! Nor did I look like a dude who even knew how. I now looked like a moody teen who's cynical and jaded about the world. Apparently, I also have the face that looked like Ryan Reynolds and Ruby Rose had a normal, extramarital, celebrity love affair and with it came me, according to him of course.

The lady fired several rounds of her gun at me. I dodged her bullets by jumping to the floor. Seeing her climb on top of her desk, I quickly got up and made a run for the elevators, the only possible safe haven for me. Luckily, Ash and Jermaine were there to back me up by taking out their guns and provide somebody else to shoot at. Without thinking, I ran inside the elevator and pressed one of the buttons (didn't care which). As the doors shut, I was taken to an upper floor in the building. Looking out the window into the skyscrapers and the gorgeous, bright daylight of Zero City, somberness came over me, flooding my mind with relief.

But a second later, the panic came back, knowing I was in the Blue Sapphire building, knowing a certain lunatic who claims we're all characters of some short story was on his way to assassinate a well-known corporate asshole in the dumbest, loudest way possible. Worse part was I didn't even bring anything. Fucking 2020, a year later of being in his shadow and I still don't take shit aside from my switchblade. I really gotta change that.

But anyway, the elevator stopped. I looked down at the buttons to see I was 25 floors up. The stainless steel doors opened sesame, revealing an even bigger lobby than the one we entered, and armed dudes, cybernetic ones I might add! As if I wasn't exposed to enough insanity already. All of them turned their heads toward me, giving me these glares that made me look like an illegal Mexican immigrant in front of a bunch of white motherfuckers like myself. I slowly walked in, playing it cool. I thought that since I was unarmed and dressed better, they wouldn't dare hurt someone like me.

"Hi, uh. I'm Brian." I spoke up using the first name I could think of, "I'm erm...an intern at Blue Sapphire."

One guard responded calmly with a cup of coffee in hand, "Okay." The rest stayed quiet, and I was quite happy about that.

However, shit hit the fan out of the blue. A loud bang shook the floor I stood on, nearly causing me to fall.

"ATTENTION, CHANNELERS." Said an automated male voice, "WE HAVE AN INTRUDER ON THE TOP FLOOR. I REPEAT, WE HAVE AN INTRUDER ON THE TOP FLOOR."

With panic in their voices, the guards, or the Channelers, immediately sprang up from their moment of comfort and cocked their guns. The good majority of them ran off, probably to join the fight that was no doubt happening at the top, started by you-know-who. I didn't do much aside from stand around and act like I worked in a place like Blue Sapphire, kind of. I found a nearby couch, grabbed a Hollywood Today magazine, and laid down with my feet kicked up. I figured the guards wouldn't be too concerned about some dude lounging around with their hands full dealing with Finch Ferris.

"Paparazzo releases How To Stalk Celebs And Get Famous." I read the headlines on the front page, "Ryan Reynolds High School reopens after alcohol smuggling scandal. Unpopular author Seth Martin viciously savaged by local maniac."

My eyes darted both ways rapidly after reading the third headline. I quickly tossed the magazine away and pulled out another one. I had hoped it had nothing to do with past events I may or may not had been a witness in. I read the headlines on the next one to be sure.

"Fame Daily: Brianna Hildebrand caught shoplifting trinkets again..."

Damnit. Another celebrity magazine. Verity Fair. What does Brianna Undocumented have for us today?

"...This time from Ripley Jonesy's Runtz cat shop. Owner claims tragedy at negasonic levels. Brianna claims it was the first cat she loved. Pastor claims she needs an exorcist and photos of him sleeping with men and women are photoshopped."

She's playing with fire. My kinda woman.

After reading the entire headline, I overheard ruckus from the floor above. The ruckus was made of noises I knew all too well after a year of his presence; Gunfire, also aggressive shuffling of furniture, a lot of it. Suddenly, a loud bang went off from somewhere in the lobby. I jumped off the couch as soon as I heard something crash on the marble floor.

"What the fuck!?" I yelped as I tossed the magazine away out of panic.

And what do you know? Guess who was now in the same floor as me? Finch fucking Ferris, and some other dude. When the debris cleared up, I saw his latest adversary (and was gonna be my own as well). It was a guy, a big guy, skin made entirely out of diamond. Name sounded a little weird. I thought sapphire was blue or something.

Finch noticed my presence right away as he was busy wrestling the diamond dude.

"Hey, John!"

I rolled my eyes, "Really? Gotta say my real name in here??"

"Sorry, Brianna!"

I looked over to the Fame Daily magazine, nesting on the couch.

"You dead man, Monsieur Ferris!" Taunted the diamond dude in a thick French accent, "Silver Sapphire kill you now!"

Silver Sapphire? Oh great. A supervillain. As if we Infamous don't have enough problems.

Finch used the Silver Sapphire's stomach to jump back and unleash several rounds from his dual M1911s to the big dude. Didn't put his ass down. All it did was piss him off even further.

"Cockfuckle!" Finch yelled, "Gimme my bullets back!"

The big dude didn't listen. He instantly rammed his fist into Finch's face, sending him flying into a wall, fucking up the fine marble with giant cracks and blood.

I chuckled, "Having fun, Finch?"

His body slumped onto the floor. His own blood covered the entire back of his head and spandex suit. Some even gushed out of his popped eyes, which I had the misfortune of seeing grow back as he got up and pulled out his katana.

"Ugh. God." My stomach churned from seeing him regenerate again, "Fuckin nasty."

"Don't worry, Brynn!" Finch raised his katana, "I got this!"

Like a fucking moron, Finch charged up to the Silver Sapphire. Getting up close, he shoved his katana deep in that dude's sapphire skin, doing dick to hurt him. All Finch managed to do was get the big dude to grab him by the chest and toss his crazy ass with one hand. I'll admit, it was damn hilarious seeing him get thrown like that, seeing how I was in enemy territory because of him, doubly so I got to see him fly straight out of the window, no doubt he was gonna land on Zero Park. Only problem was that I was then the only intruder in that room, and the Silver Sapphire took notice of that.

"Oh, fuck!" I made my way for the elevator with great haste.

"Get back, little shit!" He said in that stupid French accent of his.

I was so close to the elevator. But that big, compensating douchebag grabbed me by my badass jacket I didn't wear since the days I actually went to high school before I could start getting away. With my sorry ass in his hand, he took me all the way to the shattered window. I knew he was gonna do the same as he did with Finch, so I decided to make at least one hoorah by pulling out a little switchblade I kept in my pocket, practically the only weapon I ever kept on me even after all this time. Clenching the handle tightly, I rammed it straight into the Silver Sapphire's eye.

"Agh!" He actually reacted in pain this time, "ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!"

His grip on me tightened even further. I could see anger in his other sapphire eye. Finally, he threw me right out the fucking window.

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTT!!!!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as my body flew through the bright, warm, Southern California air.

My fall took 5 seconds to end. I ended up crash-landing on a red Viper, my body utterly smashing the thing into a pancake of twisted metal. Taking my first breath from such a fall, I instantly sat up on top of the huge wreck I created. My eyes widened looking down at myself, seeing absolutely nothing...at all. I was fully intact despite taking a hard hit that destroyed a dream vehicle of mine. I discovered the car to not even have a drop of blood when I got off it.

And you know what? It all made sense in my head. Ever since my personal cannonball into that vat of nuclear waste back in that old HildeAtomics facility in LA, and the fall I took just a few minutes after. It's said that you don't get superpowers from dipping your body in nuclear waste...it only amplifies, hell, wakes up the superpowers you already have, only if you have the Ultra gene. Only mutants, or ultrahumans, whatever, can take such high doses of radiation even if we didn't have any nuclear-related abilites.

Looking around, I clocked out about a dozen glares from bystanders in Zero Park. I found Finch on the street back on his feet letting his crushed body erm...heal itself in the grossest way possible. And just to add insult to injury, I felt my left foot step into something squishy on the grass. I looked down only to get even more grossed out by the discovery of someone's icky, orange vomit on my goddamn boot. Getting my common sense back, I turned back to the vehicle to see its driver door open and skid marks leading up to the street behind it. With a sigh of relief and shock, I caught up to Finch just as he snapped his right hand in the correct place.

"There we go!" He cracked his knuckles and his neck, "Good as new!"

"Oh my God." I had to turn away after that, "Nasty."

He instantly turned to the sound of my voice, "Oh hey, John! Real convenient of the author to put you down here, eh?"

I looked back at the wreckage, "Not exactly." I started walking up to him, "So before I get pissed off about getting thrown out the fucking window, lemme ask: Did you get'im? The target?"

All of a sudden, KRRRRRSSSSHHHH!!!! Something else crashed onto another unlucky vehicle on the street. After covering my eyes, I opened them up, pinpointing the noise to a black Ferrari in front of the building. What laid on top of it was a single, charred corpse. My head slowly turned to Finch out of curiosity.

"Oh, there he is!" He proudly put his arms on his hips, "Our contract!"

"Mind tellin me why's he on fire?"

"I – "

And just before he could spout whatever string of insanity he pulled up there, something else crashed onto another car! My God, whatever insurance companies covered those cars, and the owners of course, were gonna have a fucking field day from this shit. With a small sigh, I turned around to see what else could possibly come down.

"Aw, son of a – "

Oh, great. It's that dude. The Silver Sapphire. As if we didn't cause enough shit outside, the big dude just had to come down and pick another fight with us. Well, if Finch decided to put all cards on the table this time and rip that motherfucker a new one, I might've just got revenge on him for touching my good jackets. I treasured these fine pieces of clothing ever since I was put in conversion therapy because my father thought I was gay! But don't worry about him or my mother, for they had quite the "accident" after I escaped. Same goes for those who wanted to torture me in that god-awful place, all of whom gotten into more fun "accidents". Ugh, fuck my life.

"Guess that's your cue, Finch." I said to my friend.

"You know it, dude!"

Finch pulled out these dual katanas that looked cooler than the one I used to impress a girl at my old high school last night. Stupid early college. Just had to bless me with high intelligence. Because shitty parents weren't enough for this sick bastard. Fuck, you're insane.

Anyway, with my manchild friend having two weapons in his just as he likes it, he stupidly ran up to the Silver Sapphire with a shit-eating grin on his face. As expected, the Sapphire did what any Ultra with what little common sense they had left and slapped him away, sending him soaring in the air until he crash-landed into a police vehicle. As I chuckled, I didn't think to keep my eyes on the Silver Sapphire as he came charging with fire in his eyes. When I noticed him come at me by the corner of my eye, a loud whoosh overcame my hearing, and with the flip of a switch, I found myself collapsing on the ground at the very center of the park. Getting up instantly, a rush of adrenaline ran through my veins after experiencing a very brief hit of gushed wind before ending up there.

As my eyes darted to the Martin Lee monument, I found Finch in the right moment to see him fly right into the fountain. You know, I would've chuckled at that had my good fucking clothes not gotten wet from the big-ass splash he made when he landed in the water! But putting that aside, I ran up to the fountain and grabbed Finch's hand to pull him out of the water.

"Huh!?" It took him a bit to take in what just happened, "Where'd he go!? WHERE ARE YOU, SILVER SAPPHIRE!?!?!?!?"

I pointed over to the street he was standing right in the middle of, "Right there."

Still needing to satisfy his bloodlust, Finch pulled out his twin katanas. I put my hand on his shoulder to stop the moment I saw something bolt towards him, sending his ass into the Blue Sapphire building. I didn't even need to second guess who had just arrived to clean up after the Infamous.

"Let's just go." I urged him, "We got what we needed. Let the Enforcers deal with him."

"But I wanna use my new katanas!" He bitched as he pulled them out, "Look at'em! They're so cool! Like, straight out of a samurai movie!"

From the corner of my eye, I witnessed a man in a blue jumpsuit with a single black stripe going down his arms and legs run up to the Silver Sapphire to give his strength a run for his money.

"You already tried'em out at Santa Monica. Now c'mon!"

"Awww..."

Putting away his damn toys, Finch and I let the superheroes have at it with the big dude while we slipped away undetected from the park as fast and far as we could so my big baby of a friend wouldn't get any second thoughts and go back just to get us in trouble with the Enforcers. Dude, I'm having enough stress just thinking about who the hell was paying Finch to go and assassinate a Hildebrand Atomics CFO, a ringleader of the Nukists, and just recently a high figure in Blue Sapphire. Shit did not add up back then, it certainly didn't later on.

As we made it out of the park, I gave Ash a ring.

"Hey, dude. It's done. You and Jermaine okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. We ran off as soon as we could. That lady chased us out. Sorry we couldn't rescue you! We thought you were dead!"

I huffed, "If I can survive Finch Ferris, it'll take more than some assassin in a nice suit to take me down."

"That's what the hell I wanted to hear. Where are you?"

"Far away from Blue Sapphire and Zero Park, that's for damn sure! Look, we'll meet up later. I just gotta get somewhere safe. Hopefully Finch won't fuck that up for at least a few hours!"

I hung up after we said our goodbyes. Finch and I kept running deep into Zero City so we wouldn't get into any other fights for the time being. But on the way, as we were escaping, I experienced yet another gush of wind, this time in a swirl of a blurry pink around me. It was so fast that it didn't even stop me from running, all it did was slow me down a little bit and make me turn my head back to maybe see what just came at me, even if it was just for a split-second. However, I couldn't find anything, so I kept on going.

"Where're we going anyway, Finch?

"Beats me, this part of the short story just ended."

### Alright! We Get an Epilogue!

Finch Ferris

"J.K. Rowling didn't write Harry Potter." Johnny A raised a picket sign I made myself to a chick walking out of Martin Market with such a lack of enthusiasm!

The woman casually ignored my friend. I took this as my cue to bring up my own cause!

"America should not be a Christian nation!" I raised my sign in front of the lady, "It should be Agnostic! The Founding Fathers were not sure if God existed!"

The lady ignored me! Without a word, she walked off to her car, not signing either of our petitions! Damnit! I thought to myself. Coulda got a signature! Oh well, maybe I'll have a chance with the next one.

Another woman walked outta the store, a hot punk chick. She sported a black mohawk with a hot pink streak, a leather jacket, jeans, and boots, basically John's normal clothes. Anywho, John was the first to speak up about his cause, not that he was any more enthusiastic than the last time!

"J.K. Rowling didn't write Harry Potter, sexy – I mean, petition to let the world know about tight pussy – I mean – "

"The Founding Fathers wanted an Agnostic nation!" I raised my picket sign, "It says so in the Boob of Racks!"

"What!?!?" She exclaimed.

I presented her a copy of my Bill of Rights as I stared at her hot chest, "See? It says so right here!"

"In crayon?"

"Hey! Don't insult American hot asstory – "

"Excuse me!?!?" She yelled before my eyes, putting one hand on her boobies. My face was lucky enough to get the kinky experience of meeting the back of her hand before leaving. Strong too! I went flat on my ass! My kinda woman.

John stood by to look down and smile, "If only Rey and Hilde knew you changed the causes."

"Yeah, well, the American people DO NOT care about the environment! Especially the people of Eris and Los Angeles. We do more for the environment than some haughty celebrity who donates 30K to some charity so they don't have to pay taxes outta Uranus!"

"By storming into a Hildebrand Atomics facility and killing everyone inside?"

"Exactly! Now everyone knows the Nukists are big meanies and HildeAtomics has been leaking nuclear waste into the LA and Eris Rivers since 2016!" I chuckled, "...Uranus."

"Finch, they've been doing it since the 50s. Hell, it's all still in there to this day! Why do you think everyone's a dumbass around here? And we only went in there just to get some nuclear waste!"

Oh boy! A third person walked out the entrance, this time a man, with some sexy muscles, fuckable face, great smile, rockin that pink tank top! He was like John Cena if he had to be a male stripper after failing wrestling too many times and acknowledged the fact that his movies are terrible!

"Hi, handsome!" I greeted the man as he came out.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed John turn his head to me in confusion. He put his focus back on handsome and raised his picket sign.

John spoke up again with no spirit whatsoever! "Would you like to – "

The compensator immediately laughed in his face without ever getting to find out about that J.K. Rowling never wrote Harry Potter! It was that erm...that guy...who played...

"Ugh, why don't you faggot dykes go and fuck yourselves for ruinin our country!"

I was gonna say something because I was PISSED OFF that someone would talk to my best friend like that thinking THEY CAN GET AWAY WITH IT!!! But John managed to surprise me by making his mentor so proud!

"Dyke? Dyke??" He first came at the sexy man with an F-bomb, "First, that's fucked up. Second, I'm a dude. Third, I'm not gay. And fourth: Fuck you! Take your tiny dick somewhere else!"

To that, I turned to my protégé with a tear coming down my eye. I've never been so happy for a dude who once dressed up as a snooty, upper-class teen before I came to save him.

"John, you make me so proud of you!"

Well, I was until that LITTLE, TINY-PENISED MOTHERFUCKER TOOK A SWING AT JOHN'S FACE!!!! HOW DARE HE PUNCH A TEENAGE BOY!!! NOBODY HITS A MEMBER OF THE INFAMOUS AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!!! AND ON THAT NOTE, WHILE I'M PISSED OFF, HOW DARE THEY DELAY THAT SPONGEBOB MOVIE!!! IT HAS FUCKING KEANU REEVES IN IT! IT WAS GONNA BE FUCKING BREATHTAKING!!!!

"HEYYY!!!!!!" I shouted at Tiny-Penis, "THAT'S MY FRIEND, AMATEUR ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGAR!!!!"

I threw several swings at the teen-puncher, also a flip-kick. I'd use my guns in this scene since he punched a 16-year-old in the face, but nooooo! The author just wants me to kick his ass until he whines like a bitch! C'mon! Of all the scenes that I couldn't show my awesome gun skillz, Seth Martin had to use it when a grown-ass man with Terminator muscles to compensate for his teeny-weeny PUNCHES AN INNOCENT, EMO TEENAGER IN THE FACE!!!! THAT'S IT!!! I DEMAND THE AUTHOR GIMME A WEAPON!!!! COUGH IT UP!!!!

...

Alright! Now I got a katana! Thank you, Mr. Hack Writer!

(*flips the bird*)

Anywho, after acquiring a generous donation from the author, I now had my katana in my possession! And who better to use it on than on a guy who punches a 16-year-old that is America's future/downfall?

"HEY, SMALL PENIS!" I readied my sexy katana, "WHY DON'T YOU PUNCH SOMEBODY YOUR OWN SIZE!?!?"

SKLISH! Off came his head! And TOUCHDOWN!!! Right into the trash can by the door just like last time!

"Aw, Jesus fucking Christ!" John flipped from me defending him, "Really wish you did that shit when I'm not around! I got blood on my jacket now! Damnit, I just shoplifted this!"

I looked down at John's long, black, leather jacket. I smiled seeing how it fit his dark skinny jeans and black boots. I was so glad to see my best friend wear his little goth heart on his shoulders!

"Eh, don't worry, Johnny A." I scoured the bags in his cart to see if had anything to eat, "One day, you'll have a suit like mine!"

"So I can look like some superhero ninja with a unicorn-themed Colt M1911?" John rolled his eyes, "At the very least, make mine yellow."

I managed to find a tub of Seth & Noah's Ice Cream in his Kardashian assload of groceries along with a pack of DM-X Pop-Pops, my favorite gum! I also got myself some nailcutters, HAMMER deodorant, a bottle of Plissken cologne, and a carton of orange juice from the shopping cart.

"Told ya this saves money, John!"

"Hey!"

"Not now, I'm shopping!"

"Hey, douchebag!"

"Hang on, I think I found some Skreiners!"

"I know your real name, K."

"What??"

I immediately pulled away from the cart. Turning to my friend, there I saw him walking out of the market with cart full of stuff! That jerk who ruined one of my lovely work days!

"HEY!!!!" I shouted at my fellow mercenary, Hotshot, who was enjoying the fine taste of copyright infringement that is Snickers, "YOU BIG JERK!!! YOU RUINED MY CONTRACT!!!"

"Catch me if you can, Ferris!"

Hotshot took off without his cart. Snatching the bag of Skittles, I gave chase to the asshole who ruined my David Tammy job and my favorite ride on Santa Monica Pier!

"GET BACK HERE, YOU CONTRACT-STEALING THIEF!!!! I WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND!!!!"

Instead of helping chase down my new rival, John decided to stay at the parking lot and finish his Tweet...at least I think he was Tweeting at the end of the epilogue!

"Finch accepts your offer in the superhero business. How much?"

TO BE CONTINUED...

## ARRIVAL AT HELL'S GATE

Finch Ferris finds himself going against a dangerous cult after stopping them from shooting up an entire freeway in Los Angeles. On the way, he finds a new best friend, one of the victims of the cult, a young college student going by the name John Adoniyah. Together, they'll seek an end to the men that ruined their wonderful day.

### Onto The Highway

"Aw, c'mon!" I exclaimed through the driver window, "I'm late for school! I gotta get back to the future!"

From behind the car, I could see the driver briefly glance to the side before shifting his focus back on the vehicle-ridden road.

Looking over to my right, there sat a child no older than 9, sticking his tongue out like that singer in that old music video. _Aww_ , I thought to myself, looking at the little guy making an ass of himself. Reminds me of the time I was a kid! _Flipping off other drivers on the freeway and tagging parked cars, well, that and the occasional catch in the act by the police._

Anywho, to my left, was a single, long-haired, brunette holding onto the wheel of her pink, roofless, convertible. Right next to the woman was the living embodiment of douchebag apparel taking pictures of her from his red motorcycle.

"Fuck off!" She yelled.

But the paparazzo didn't relent. He just kept repeatedly taking photos with a shit-eating grin like he wasn't told to fuck off just then. The woman reached into her pink purse and proceeded to throw shit at him. The asshole with the camera was taking hits from a tube of lipstick, a bottle of that eyeliner stuff, and a bag of...a white, powdered, substance with absolutely zero evidence of it being something illegal.! In that moment, I felt like, for once in my life, I should be a good Samaritan! So, taking a can of Coke from my cup holder, I threw it as hard as I could at the paparazzo's punchable face.

However, in a twist of fate, something so random happened, I was for once surprised it would happen in the crime-filled city of LA. Ka-blam! My coke can exploded into a foamy mist. The mist quickly dissipated into the polluted, smoggy air the city is known for. Meanwhile, the tasty, delicious liquid scattered all over the princess car, and on the smoking hot lady's dress.

"Ugghh!!" She screamed in disgust as the soda hit her dress, "It's wet! I just bought this with my husband's money!"

Another surprise came a young dude out of the backseat of her car, "Aw, fuck!" He panicked, "Who the hell did that!?" The youngster briefly looked over to me, revealing a face that looked like Ryan Reynolds and Ruby Rose had a normal, extramarital, celebrity love affair and with it came him.

The annoying paparazzo laughed, "Yes!" He yelled, "I'm gonna be rich! Fuck you, ex-wife!"

Then came another blast, this time making a perfect hole in the head of the creepy stalker with a camera. The lady screamed yet again, piercing the ears of her possible boyfriend in the back, and me, and the bullets that just came flying at us! As a concerned citizen, I jumped out of the Kommando as quick as I could. Nobody deserves to die even if you're a celebrity having an affair or a gold digger with no income of their own!

Anywho, seeing how the guy behind her looked way younger, I grabbed him by the black and yellow-striped shirt and lifted his lucky ass off the car, bringing him to cover behind mine. Fortunately for him, I personally outfitted the Kommando with fictional colainium armor, two miniguns on the hood, two M2 MGs on the roof. Nothing in LA was gonna stop that badass, except for the damn traffic!

"Jesus H. Christ!" Said the youngster in awe over my car, "What the hell is this thing?"

As more gunshots came in streams, I took cover along with the dude to keep him company, "Why, it's the Urban Kommando! It's the Batmobile to my Batman!"

"Did you ask the cops nicely to drive that thing around!?"

"Eh, they got better things to worry about like collecting donut bribes and beating the shit out of some poor drunk who only wanted to forget his troubles!"

Several of the cars on the highway, (including my prized beauty!) took some hits from the ongoing barrage of bullets _. Now they just made this fucking personal!_

"HEY!" I rose up from cover, taking a shot to the head just from brief exposure to the crosshairs, "Show a little respect for people's property! I just fixed this woman!"

From where I stood, I finally got a glimpse of the fuckcockers trying to shoot up my car! Having came our way were a bunch of black-cloaked dudes with automatic weapons, military grade stuff. Marked on their chests was your typical Satanic insignia, you know, that upside down star with the freaky goat head in the middle? The one that all the goths, emos, and your general edgelords listening to screamo sometimes have on their black t-shirts? Yeah, that one, except now that they're being sewn on cloaks! Good for them! They're finally taking things up a notch!

"I don't think they're gonna show respect for a vehicle that can be used against them." Snarked the kid.

And when I heard that little comment of his, I could not resist cracking a smile!

"Oh, what a fine line of snarkiness!" I told the boy, "What's your name?"

"John." The boy revealed, "John Adoniyah."

"Well, John Adoniyah..." I perked up again only to receive another headshot, "...wish me luck!"

_Time to kick ass and chew bubblegum, in which I have none to spare! The kicking ass part, meanwhile, I do have in my inventory_! Knowing John was gonna be safe behind the trunk, I made it back to the driver side of the Kommando to get some tools to get some said ass-kicking done. Opening the door, I dug inside the pile of trash I accumulated during my trip across this lovely country, also my cute little kitty Arbuckle I found in New Mexico!

"Hey!" Something was very wrong when I looked in there, "Where's all my guns!?"

_This is bullshit_! There wasn't anything with high killing power in there _! No fair! They get guns while I get jack shit!?_ Well, my wrist-blade and shoulder cannon were still buried in the trash but I kinda messed them up after these middle-aged, biker boys tried to attack me. I swear it wasn't my fault this time around! Hey, they started it by calling me the f-word! I'd tell you what it is, but the author demands I don't so we don't lose readers. I don't get why. He's of that very community so he gets full immunity!

"Well..." But despite that, I did manage to find something in the pile just under my cat, "...this'll have to do."

Pulling it out of the pile and into the fresh, smoggy air, my katana still looked as sexy as me when I first bought it! Taking a small glance into the shiny blade, I could see John's slicked, brown hair as he stayed hidden. I was gonna tell him to get the hell outta there, but even then, I saw it the moment I laid eyes on his bright, green eyes. I knew he was gonna have great sidekick potential in him, and enough deuteragonist potential to be in at least a couple cheap short stories of his own! So, it was better he stuck by my side.

Shutting the armored door, I charged across the 105 Freeway toward the cultists ready to get Leonardo on their asses! _May all the samurais that existed in the world witness my pure awesomeness,_ I said in my mind as I took my first swing at the nearest cultist. My first attack didn't do much. It only vertically grazed one side of his unhooded face. But hey, what're swords for? You don't just use them once on one guy! Unlike guns, you get to use them for infinity, so I took another swing at the devil worshipper.

"AGGGHHHH!" He shrieked like a 5-year-old princess as his entire forearm came off.

_Well..._ I briefly looked down on the concrete to check my latest feat, _looks like he's gonna have to shoot and jack off with one hand!_ Knowing that fact, I felt kinda bad for the guy, even though he could've killed the teen boy behind me. But mercy is good for the soul, so I gently shoved him aside and focused on the asshole _that took fucking potshots at me_!

Because he was so annoying, it was rinse and repeat! With one charge of my sexy sword, SHINK! Whomever he was gonna kill that day, they were free to live on. The hole in his heart made sure of it!

"Third time's the charm!" I pointed at the third cultist shooting at me.

I decided to do something different with the third guy. I figured since I was fighting, I'd live it up a little! Taking one hand off the handle, I prepared my katana for a horizontal throw.

Buuuut, just as I was about score a touchdown, the dude had this awesome trick up his sleeve. Well, more like in his genes because when the katana was halfway through its trip, the cultist's eyes glowed cherry red. Various parts of his body summoned electrical, red sparks from out of nowhere. His body became surrounded by a ball of red energy, probably to protect him from the katana in case it actually got close. Before I knew it, the dude used the energy shield to summon a shockwave, expanding it all the way to me, and boy did it send me soaring! The force was strong with the blast enough to launch me against the windshield of some guy's smart car, shattering the glass entirely.

But fear not, audience! For I, Finch Ferris, have a healing power that ensures I live through every injury, bullet wound, stab, explosion, and occasional virus! I'm not gonna let some dude in a refitted Sith cloak stop me from saving the traffic-makers of Los Angeles and the teen behind me, starting with getting my sword back!

Holding one hand up, the katana, laying comfortably on the road, flew right back to daddy. With my bladed beauty back in my hands, I instantly got up from the windshield to face the cult guy.

"See?" I raised my katana in the air, "I'm worthy!"

The cockfuckface shot some bullets in my face. I nearly lost an eye because of him! Hell, one even got in my mouth! Oh, wait, healing ability. Eye would've grown back. Still, it's the principle.

"Ah, you bastard!"

Gripping my dild-I mean katana as pussy-tight as I could, I rethrew the blade at the cultist. This time, a flawless victory! His whole head flew all the way over the railing! _Scoooooore!_ He won't be making anyone's lives miserable again, I'll tell you that much!

Now that those three supervillains were done, the freeway was saved! And I also felt a tingly sensation in my stomach.

"Hey!" I looked down at myself, seeing an awesome-shaped blade sticking out of my stomach. And when I say awesome, I mean fucking awesome! At the end of the shiny, bloody sword, the opposite edges of the blade split up in two curved hooks. Curving again at a certain point, the blades showed off some sexy horns, of demonic nature.

"Well, now this is one nice alternative to taking me to dinner!" I turned my head to see another cultist holding the kickass sword.

"Shut up, weirdo!" He said so rudely!

"Hey, hey! We're all weirdos in our own way!" I said to the highly ignorant man, "It doesn't matter what color your skin is, who you're dating, what cool superpowers you have! What truly matters is what's on the inside!"

"What!? What the f-"

And after that, he stopped talking. He also sounded like he was gargling something up too. As I was still being a concerned citizen at the time, I fully turned around to check up on my enemy. Having saw what penetrated his side, I...*tears up*...I've never been so proud of a teenager in my life. Holding the handle, John pulled a switchblade from right out of the cultist's hip, letting the man fall to the ground. John looked up at me, taking some serious breathers as he dropped his weapon. I crouched down to his level and offered one hand to put on his shoulder, hoping to put the young man at ease.

"You did a good thing taking out that son of a cocksnot." I assured the teen boy.

John looked to the side, "Sure didn't look like it."

I smiled, "Well, look at it this way. If you and I weren't here to kill'em, they woulda went on to chase the innocent and make'em all sacrifices for some horned dude jacking off underground with a bunch of other horned dudes!"

John's eyes widened for some reason, "...Yeah...I guess so."

Noticing something in the distance, John's eyes widened up like the vagina of a horny woman, "Look out!" He pointed to the direction opposite of me.

Turning behind, there came a fifth cultist seeking to ruin someone's warm, sunny day, and John's, and mine too. Anywho, nothing an old-fashioned katana forged in the anime powerhouse of Japan can't fix! Oh, wait a minute. Never mind! I already had a sword in my own stomach! Gripping the long, shiny blade. I pulled it out of my tummy. With the sword in hand, I got to see even more of the pimped-out design of the weapon. Only then I noticed the three pentagrams etched in the middle and two horned curves at each end.

Throwing the sword, instead of banana splits for that guy, there was cherry splits for everyone! Too dark? Aw, c'mon!

"Hooray!" I celebrated in the middle of the highway, "I saved the innocent!"

"Okay, now we really shouldn't be here!" John panicked, taking an immediate step back from me.

"Why not?" I shrugged at his comment, "We're not the ones who tried to shoot up the highway!"

"They probably won't believe that when they see a guy in some scratched-up, orange super-suit."

Because it was John telling me this, I decided to listen to him, "Oh alright. Besides, it's hotter than Scarlett Johansson's tits out here!"

"Hey, less celebrity references, more _getting the fuck outta here_!"

### Home, Sweet Home

John Adoniyah

Well...things just got interesting for me. Some crazy cult guys just tried to kill me right on the 105 Freeway, and I had a weird encounter with a lunatic in some orange suit. Damn, just when I thought having an affair with an older celebrity married to another celebrity was insane enough. If there's a God, Satan, or some kind of divine being in the universe, they must be either very happy with me or want me to suffer the consequences of my actions.

Speaking of the lunatic, I think I can say I made a new friend in under the shortest amount of time. After that little event of craziness, Finch was generous enough to take me far away from the freeway and give me a ride home in that tank he calls the Urban Kommando. I don't know how many years he poured into Twisted Metal, but be assured I did not want to be 400 feet near that damn thing, not that I had much of a choice at the time.

"John." Finch asked while driving.

All eyes were focused on the towering skyscrapers of Los Angeles along with my ears.

"John!" He called to me again.

I turned to the guy, "What??" I asked angrily.

"How ya doin?" He smiled, "You okay?"

"I'm doing okay for a guy who could've died because of a bunch of cultists and got rescued by a heavily-armed drifter who thinks he's in a short story."

"Alright!" He said with glee, "Awesome! For someone so scrawny, you're one tough kid, you know that?"

For several seconds, I stared contemptuously at him, contemplating if there was any time, he was capable of relating to normal human beings. I guess that tends to be difficult when you have a healing factor that makes you immortal. I've seen what superpowers can do to peoples' heads. It ain't pretty.

"Aw, c'mon!" He complained, "Admit you had some fun while being in danger!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that your version of fun, Mr. Ferris?"

"Hey, nothing gets the characters and audience's adrenaline pumping like an action scene! Stimulation keeps the mind going, I say!"

My fists clenched at his psychotic remark, "Do I look like someone who enjoys violence??"

Finch turned, "Hmm..." He looked down at my blue vest and white buttoned shirt with those creepy yellow eyes of his, "Nah, I'd say you're one of those 20-year-old, preppy, college guys who think they're better than poor people because they were born with shit-tons of money and they can bribe their way into any university."

"20 years?" My anger meter went from 70 to 20, "I'm 15."

"Wait, you're 15 years old?" Finch was astonished by what I said, "The hell were you doing in that lady's-...oh..."

Out of nowhere, Finch offered me his right hand, "High five!"

My eyebrow cocked at the subject, "For what?"

"For losin your V-Card at 15! To a celebrity, I might add!"

I kept both hands on my lap, "No, thank you."

"Oh, c'mon!" The maniac persisted with my giving him a high five, "What is it you kids say? _Don't leave a man hanging?_ You're lucky to lose your virginity to a celebrity. Most people would shit on the floor in the opposite sex's restroom to fuck a Hollywood actor! Who's the country's next famous sex offender, anyway?"

"Tara Karla?" I said the name of the celeb to Finch with no response, "You know, that pop star who became a Christian and believed her old career to be nothing but spreading Satanic propaganda? Yeah, that lady."

Finch had just entered the street of my friend's house.

"Huh, so the born-again Christian, ex-pop star was fucking a 15-year-old boy in her pink car." He cracked his neck, "No wonder that paparazzo was so aggressive! Well, at least the LGBT community will have one less enemy to worry about, unless her bible-thumping buddies get to that guy's camera first."

Arriving at our destination, Finch pulled up into the driveway of my friend's house. As soon as we stopped, I immediately got the hell out. I did not want to spend another minute in that death machine Finch calls a car, not publicly at least. I just wanted to veg on Cole's couch and recuperate after nearly getting killed and making friends with the maniac that was right behind me as I knocked on the door.

"Tara's fictional, right?" He randomly asked.

Uhh...I turned around to see Finch's concerned face, "...Sure."

My new friend smiled in relief, "Woo! Thank the author! Because I already referenced some real celebrities and products and, I know this is an indie short story that only 100 people will read, but we'd rather not get sued."

"And telling me that I'm the love child of Ryan Reynolds and Ruby Rose after a love affair wasn't crossing any lines?"

"Eh, love affairs are normal in Hollywood." He continued to run his mouth, "They're practically cultural norms! Hell, you-"

"Shut the fuck up, please!?" I interrupted his latest sentence of ridiculous nonsense, "It's bad enough-"

The front door opened. Turning around, I saw my friend Cole in the flesh, and in Wonderland judging by his bloodshot eyes and the blunt and slice of pizza in his hands.

"Hey, man." I greeted him before curling my lip, praying Finch didn't open his mouth again.

"Heeyyyy, dude!" Cole said back with a happy attitude, "Didn't think you'd be back already! What happened with that chick?"

Finch and I walked inside without asking to come in. I was anxious to get to a couch and relax in front of the TV.

"Traffic problems." I answered his question as I passed him, "Made a new friend on the way."

By just five steps into the house, I jumped right onto the soft cushions of the couch, "Finch, Cole. Cole, Finch."

Finch shook his hand, "Whassup, homie?"

Whassup, homie...Trying to be fly as a white guy, Ferris?

"Everything, man!" My friend expressed his happiness, "All's good in the world!"

"That's right!" Finch took a seat on the chair, "Nothin like killing armed mooks and protecting armed mooks to make a decent living!"

"Huh?"

"Nothing." I interrupted Cole before Finch had the chance to say any more unpleasantries, getting up from the couch to approach my rescuer, "Anyway, Finch said he couldn't stay long." I stared deep into his eyes, "He said he had to tend to his cat, Arbuckle."

"Wha-"

"You should go look for'im soon." I said, hoping his crazy ass take the damn hint, "Never know when some cult might use'im for some big sacrifice to their gods or something."

"Oh, fuck!" Finch sprang from the chair, "You're right! The-uhh, those Hell's Gate assholes in their cathedral! Where is it?"

My physical response was a shrug, "No idea. I'm not a Satanist. Have you considered using the internet?"

Finch's eyes shifted away for a brief second, "Oh yeah! Good idea!" He briefly looked around the room as if he was trying to look for something, "You have a computer I could use?"

"Use your damn phone."

"But it's in my car!"

"Then go get it."

Cole chimed in, "You can use my laptop!" He suggested, "It's in my room first door on the left."

"Alrighty!" My new friend left the room while I went to the fridge to pull out a Gatorade. Energy drink in hand, I soon jumped back onto the couch, letting Finch do his thing, as much as I didn't trust him with any of my or Cole's shit.

I was left with just Cole in his living room. My longtime friend trusted the stranger I brought into his home to go walking around his house alone. He grabbed an energy drink of his own and plopped onto the cushion right next to me, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

"Coming up at 8 on the Violence Network, an all-new episode of Melee Layaway! The Bat-Men!" Several shots showed up on screen of random people getting hit by baseball bats, "And don't forget the ass-beating marathon of American Cops, starting Monday till Tuesday!"

Ass-beating marathon of American Cops? Where the fuck has this world gone to?

"Man, that's just wrong." Cole commented on the commercial.

I looked over to my stoner friend, "Tell me about it. I'm sure Finch was on American Cops at least once."

Cole chuckled just as the commercial ended, "...You think so?"

"What do you think?"

Gently snatching the remote, I flipped the channel to see if anything could provide as escape for my mind.

"Oil is for imperialists, solar energy works only in the day." A male voice narrated over a shot of a battlefield and the sky, "But Hildebrand Atomics seeks a better alternative: Nuclear energy, for all your daily needs! Instead of warheads, in the next 10 years, our very own cars, computers, and one day, even your television set, could be powered by the atom! Hildebrand Atomics, for a nuclear future! Warning: Hildebrand Atomics is not responsible for the mishandling of nuclear material or equipment. Hildebrand Atomics has also never, nor will it ever, conduct unethical experiments on the population."

_Yeah, right_ , I smirked just after the commercial ended. Just in time for me to switch the channel again. _Just don't start the apocalypse._

Cole resumed our conversation, "Aw, I think he's a cool dude!"

"He's only been here for two minutes!" I put down the drink, "I'd be real fucking cautious if I were you!"

"Like being cautious about sleeping with a 28-year-old celebrity?"

My face froze from his knowledge of my uh...side adventures. With a curled lip, I went back to watching TV, pretending he never said that.

"Just...don't go near'im, okay?" I urged Cole, picking my drink back up from the floor, "I have a feeling he's never gonna leave me the hell alone, and I doubt he enjoys taking simple walks down Santa Monica Pier."

"Tonight, on UCD: Fantasia, a woman of mystery, a woman of integrity...and a coffee nut?" The TV presented a photo of a blue-dressed, brown-skinned woman with white hair sitting on a table drinking some coffee in front of the Hot, Steamy Coffee shop, "Next week, Seth Martin...a dog lover? Useless Celebrity Details, only on the Hollywood Channel. Spying on celebrities so you know where to annoy'em! Yes, we sunk that low!"

Having looked to the doorway leading to the hall, I came to a small conclusion: _Oh yeah, Finch's gonna fit in just fine here._ Hearing the sound of a door close, I also looked to my right through the window to catch a snippet of Finch's Urban Kommando car. Cocking an eyebrow, I lifted myself up off the couch and walked over to the window to see what was happening. I had arrived just in time to see a gangbanger start the ignition of the Twisted Metal car.

You don't leave your keys in your car, you redheaded dumbass!

The lights switched on, bringing in a bright, stinging glare to the living room. I had to partially cover my eyes just to get a glimpse of the gangster pull the car away from the driveway. Before I could've used those last, remaining moments to warn Finch, I was too late. The guy hastily drove off into the night with his stolen prize, making new skid marks on the street for some poor construction worker to pave over.

_And just in time. Look who came back just after the very last minute_. Seeing him in that decked out, orange suit of his in the reflection, I turned away from the window to see the maniac himself waving to me with a crescent smile and the other eyesore that was his bright yellow eyes. Having known what I seen, I did a three-take at both Finch and the car, not having a fucking clue on how to break it to him. I doubt it'd ever be easy calmly explaining to an eccentric weirdo that his car, that looked like it was stolen off the set of Fast & Furious, got stolen by some lowlife.

"Uhh..." I mustered up the courage, and tried figuring out what to say to Finch about what I witnessed, "...Did ya get the address ya needed? You know where the cathedral is?"

"Yepper!" Finch confirmed with a positive attitude, not that I had one, "The short story can go forward!"

"Wait, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean we're gonna go straight there and kick Anton LaVey's ass!"

I protested his excellent plan, "Like hell we are! I ain't tangoing with a bunch of devil worshippers!"

He put on a British accent, " _Well, my sir_!" Then dropped it immediately, "These devil worshipping assholes just tried to kill you and your celebrity, sex offender girlfriend! This is our chance to get out there and get some payback before they attack any more innocent people!"

Finch took out the katana from the back of that weird superhero-ish suit of his.

Having known stopping Finch from doing something absolutely stupid was an impossible feat, I drank up the rest of my Gatorade and sighed, "Alright, let's do your cult-bust thing." Putting down the drink, I turned to Cole, "Mind if we take your car?"

"Yeah! Sure!" He immediately accepted my request despite Finch having just revealed our plans for vigilante justice a few seconds ago. The guy was trusting enough to toss Finch the keys, "There ya go!"

Finch caught the keys in mid-air, "Thank you, Cole!" He then shifted his attention to me, "Why're we taking his car? My Kommando's just fine!"

I nudged Finch toward the kitchen, "Because I don't wanna end up on an episode of American Cops."

"But your friend might be!" Finch warned in front of me, "You know we gotta take it back to his place!"

From the kitchen, I guided him to the door that lead to the garage.

"Which is why we're not parking in front of the damn place."

### Nice Day For A Black Wedding

Finch Ferris

So, John Adoniyah. Hm, I must say, after meeting the little rascal, he's not such a bad dude. 15 years old and he's already got his whole life ahead of him! Early college student, celebrity chick magnet, and potentially a badass ass-kicker if he played his cards right. A few months or a few years under my wing and he'll be the best thing that happened to America since um...uhh...best thing in America...I'm sorry, I got nothing.

Well anywho, to get back to the story, there was only one way we were gonna get justice in this metropolis; We were gonna have to speak to the culprits themselves, at the Hell's Gate Cathedral in the great suburbs of LA! That reminds me, since when in all things holy did Los Angeles have a Satanic cathedral? Oh, wait, never mind, fiction. Forget I said anything.

"Finch, is there any way I can talk you outta this?" Asked John as we were a few steps away from Papa Emeritus's dream house.

Loading my M1911, I put it back into my holster, "Nope! No child should be harmed, not even in Arrival At Hell's Gate!"

"Dude, this is a fucking cult!" He complained, "They probably have better guns that the Snows and Nights combined!"

"Don't worry, I have an awesome healing factor!"

"Finch, you're not fucking Deadpool!"

We had just made it to the top of the stairs, "Nope! I'm totally an original character!"

"Not at all what I meant!" He yelled as we just approached the two, big wooden doors, "I'm saying we shouldn't be here! The cops should be doin this!"

I chuckled as the two of us were just inches away from the doors, "What? The LAPD? Pfffft. We're better off savin the City of Angels than those chumps! You and I, my friend, are about to become vigilantes! At least for the duration of this short story."

"Yikes."

I gave the doors three friendly knocks. John and I waited in front of the Skyrim temple for a couple minutes with nobody having the decency to answer. So, I decided to let ourselves in, pushing both of them open. Having entered the big cathedral itself, I found myself...in utter disappointment the second we walked in and laid eyes on the inside _. It was just another fucking church!_ Literally! Only differences were the brimstone seats and horned furniture! Jesus, Lucifer sure is one hell of a plagiarist, eh? Get it? _Hell_ of a – never mind.

"Why, hello, everyone!" I greeted all the emos of varying ages and lying preacher who for some reason stood in front of some tank topped, blonde girl with short jeans laying on some cheap, wooden table, "I'm Finch Ferris, this is my new running buddy, John Adoniyah, how the fuck are you all?"

The liar- I mean, preacher, took his eyes off the young woman and looked up to me. His edgelord followers proceeded to do the same.

" _Who dares interrupt our monthly sacrifice_??" Asked the man in a divine, booming voice (provided by his microphone).

I changed my voice to get theatrically even, " _I dare interrupt your monthly sacrifice_ because your douchebag followers tried to kill this poor boy while he was on his way to UCLA!"

John said in a low voice, "No I wasn't!"

"Shhhhh! To you, Mr. Con Man or Satanic Pedophile Priest, I say to you I have a friend here who coulda got shot thanks to the people that listen to your bullshit, that I killed indiscriminately back on the freeway, demanding compensation! I also demand the whereabouts of my kitty cat that you kidnapped when one of your homies stole my car! WHERE'S ARBUCKLE!?!?"

"The freeway??" He finally spoke up, "What in Lucifer's name are you talking about!? And how did you manage to kill-"

I pointed at the preacher, "Oh, don't get coy with me, David Koresh! And I'll tell you how: They're not me! I'm the badass and awesome protagonist, unlike these minor characters who probably stay up in their bedrooms listening to Marylin Manson and Evanescence all night!"

John snarked, "...That or you're just an egotistical, violent lunatic who thinks he's in a short story. Also, what the hell's Evanescence?"

To his little remarks, I leaned over and whispered, "It's a 2000s thing. You won't understand." My focus came back to Hell's Gate, "Now are you all gonna pay up and give me the girl or do I gotta save LD like a badass?"

"Oh no..." The preacher said all creepily, "...It is _you_ who's going to pay."

The con signaled his scrawny, young followers. Symbiotically, they all got up from their demonic-looking seats. One-by-one, they all showed that they were more than mere tryhards aching to be the darkest and coolest douchebags in Los Angeles. One-by-one, each follower revealed their power in their own respective and badass ways. Depending on the mook, their hands either summoned electric sparks, flames, or ice. The only thing consistent with their powers was that they all glowed red, which sucked. I would've loved for them to make a pretty rainbow!

_They have superpowers!_ I screamed in my head with glee. _They're Ultras like me! Now that's what these short stories have been missing, well, except that post-apocalyptic one with the teenage girl._

"Wow!" I expressed pure astonishment by their exposed abilities, "You all got the gene too?? Awesome!"

John slowly backed away from the crowd, trying to make his way to the door, "Not if they're looking to kill you and innocent people."

"Don't worry!" I put one hand on his shoulder, "Like I said earlier, I have a healing factor!"

"Ohhh, that's cool. _Well, I fucking don't_!"

"Rey. Hilde." The preacher called out two names from the crowd, presumably the guy with the tattooed face and the short-haired girl popping some gum, "Teach this man some manners, will you?"

Looking to the girl, I quickly clocked out some cool, black, oily stuff emerging from her pale hands. As the stuff covered her entire forearm, her eyes lit up red, glowing as bright like the Christmas tree at the mall that keeps catching fire every time I enter the mall on Christmas Day, and I swear it's totally not my fault...alright, except maybe for those five times I was in there. Looking to her friend Rey, I noticed the same thing happening to his hand, except the stuff was white.

Anywho, because I still had shit for guns at the moment, it was time to battle it out through the next awesome swordfight scene!

"Alright, ya teenage mutants." I took out and readied my katana before their red glowy eyes, "Get ready to get sliced from the weapon of another teenage mutant!"

I took my first swing against the Hilde woman, and it didn't go to plan. Soaring toward her face, the oily, black bubble she summoned around her really pale body somehow managed to rip my blade to shreds, atom-to-atom. Looking down at my $900 beauty, there was jack shit save for the handle and a little piece of glowing, red blade!

"Well!" I stared at my weapon, "You can kick ass _and_ chew bubblegum, and you got bubblegum in your mouth right now!"

"I'm 21, you douche."

"Oh."

John, who mostly stood around leaving me to have all the fun, chimed in from out the blue, "I believe it's _I'm here to chew bubblegum and kick ass_."

"...Oh, yeah. It's been a while." I smiled at the little rascal, "And here I thought you weren't a movie dude!"

"I dabble." John had his arms crossed like a badass. Well, as badass as anyone could get with a yellow vest over a white buttoned shirt and skinny jeans.

The preacher way out the back finally spoke up just after my unfortunate predicament, "Oh, just kill this annoying prick already! It's time for our monthly sacrifice!"

My eyes widened from that last word, "Sacrifice!? Oh shit!"

That fraud was gonna kill that poor woman! I had to do something to save her! But hey, I was still in luck! I still had my destroyed katana! It was still good for something: Stopping a deadly ritual!

Just seconds before the crowd was about to go federal prison on my ass, I snatched the katana that continued to glow red from the tiny blade piece at the end. Putting my small-time football career to good use, I Peyton Manning'd the handle all the way to the preacher who was just about to stab the blondie in the chest. But I managed to save the day! The katana's handle landed right on the old man's head, gonk!

"Strrrrrike!" I celebrated my taking down of the old freak as he went splat on the floor like a delicious, chocolate chip pancake. Mm...

Well, my victory only lasted for about 8 seconds! After that, all those damn goths, emos, whatever finally gangbanged me just in front of the doorway, and I barely had the chance to drop the soap! The closest inside the crowd didn't bother to make the fight super-awesome and preferred to pound me with their fists, but the people behind them were nice enough to freeze, shock, and set me aflame with their powers. John, my first and only best friend in LA, just stood there with a smug smirk on his face!

"You could help me, you know!" I said to JA while I was busy thinking of a way to get out of the gangbang.

"Not sure how a grown-ass, heavily-armed man expects a 15-year-old pretty boy to save his sorry ass."

I chuckled devilishly at his snark before focusing on the mission at hand, "Heavily armed? I ain't got no guns! The lady burned my only weapon away!"

"Then use your damn bare hands!" He suggested from a safe distance, "I'm sorry, I really don't see why the hell you need guns. Your legs're on fire right now and you're still tryna get up!"

"Aw, but guns're cool! Don't you play video games or watch movies or something? You see how fun they are."

"Entertainment doesn't define what I do outside during the day, Finch."

Man, glad I made friends with this dude! Bringing myself into John's life was the best decision I ever made! Besides, I think he needs me. Doesn't seem like he has a whole lotta friends either, at least, not cool ones.

"Hey, assholes!" A woman screamed out of nowhere from a distance.

With the snap of a life-killing glove, the gangbang stopped dead in its tracks. Aww, I became stumped from the sudden lack of ass-kicking. But, after looking up to where they usually have some pedophile preacher, or whatever the Satanic equivalent was, the blonde girl was still bound to the concrete table, and the back was on fire.

"Oh, fuck!" John shouted from behind, "Finch, we gotta save'er!"

"Shit!" I instantly got up off my ass.

"Fuck this shit!" Yelled one of the Hell's Gate people before taking off for the door. Not only him, but the rest of them did the same too! Not one stayed to at least help us get the girl out!

_Oh, wait. Now it makes sense to me. They were trying to sacrifice her. Forget it. Never mind what I said_.

Well, with all the gothic folk out of the picture, that left the two heroes, me and John to save the girl. Running up to the damsel in distress, I saw her chained up to the table alongside a kitchen knife that was supposed to be used by the dick wanting to kill her, who was already the perfect dude to roast marshmellows by then. Lucky for her, I not also have a healing factor and ability to break the fourth wall, but I got super strength too! With both my masturbating and driving hands, I ripped each chain apart one-by-one, setting her free in under 5 seconds.

"C'mon!" John lended the girl a hand, "We gotta go! Cops'll be here any minute, or fireman! Take your pick!"

I chuckled at his funny remark, "I bet fireman just love firing their big nozzles in front of people."

From the corner of my eye, I could see John crack a very small smile as the girl tried getting up from the table. Briefly glancing at the girl, an unexpected turn of events occurred before my very eyes! As soon as our eyes met, the bottom of a shoe flung itself right into my face! "Shit!" I yelled as the force sent me to the ground.

"Hey!" John raised his voice as I heard the sounds of running, "Hey, wait! We're tryna save you!"

Jumping up back on my feet, the table was the first thing I clocked because some prick shoved their foot in my face! It wasn't very nice! Well, so much for a flawless rescue and victory! The lady had already left the sacrificial table, and ran out the doorway before we could've offered to take her home!

I turned to my buddy and chuckled, "Now that's happens when you're on too much X before blacking out!"

It was at that time, I noticed him beginning to back away from the area. With no dialogue, he pointed directly at the table, prompting me to look back and see what he was trying to get me to notice.

"Yeah, maybe we should get outta here." I suggested to JA, catching a glimpse of the red fire that had already engulfed the back of the Cathedral.

"Agreed."

_Well, our job here is done!_ Now that those naive cockfuckers had no leader and the lady was free to go back to her happy life in LA, John and I could skedaddle and have a victory party at his house! With JA having lead the way, the two of us cheesed-it out of the cathedral, jumped inside the car, drove off into the moonlight.

"Well, that was a disaster day." Lamented John as looked out the passenger window.

I just couldn't help but laugh hysterically at his comment, "Good one! But, in seriousness, this is a whole new continuity!"

With a look of unamusement, John turned to me, "What?"

"I mean this is a new, fresh start for the both of us!" I explained to my new assistant, and best friend, "Anything that's happened in the past short stories, has not happened here! You and I, my preppy sidekick, are gonna...are gonna..."

"Gonna what?"

"Um, I forgot. Howzabout you and I tour the city for a while and seek out people worse than you and I and stop'em from harming the innocent?"

John rested his elbow on the door, "Me, do vigilante shit with you? Dude, I don't have a healing ability to live through your antics."

"Don't you worry about that. As your new best friend, leader, and mentor, I shall find a way to give you super-awesome powers!"

"Oh, joy."

From the total blue, BOOOOOOM! Looking at the rear-view mirror, I caught an Optimus Prime-sized explosion that went off right where the cathedral was! I stopped the car in its tracks right away, giving John and I the chance to look back and be the first witnesses to the place we had left just then on bigger fire than when we cheesed-it!

"Oh, tits." I murmured about the big kaboom.

"Fuck me." Said John in awe.

For a while, we stared deep at the soul of the fire. We then exchanged looks trying to figure out what was next on the vigilante agenda.

"Guess we better go investigate." I suggested to my teammate.

But John had a very different idea, " _Let's not_! Let's get the hell outta here!"

TO BE CONTINUED...

## A NUCLEAR FALL IN LA

A month after the events of Arrival At Hell's Gate, Finch Ferris and John Adoniyah will take a trip in South Central LA to the abandoned Hildebrand Atomics facility. A once booming powerhouse of unethical nuclear development now a den for Ultras with nuclear powers, will become the fighting ground for the duo and the mutants as they try to recover nuclear material from the building.

### Fallout: Two Idiots

Finch Ferris

"Finch." My friend called my name as I drove, "Finch."

At the time, I couldn't remember why he was calling my name. I only recall it had something to do with me getting distracted or something.

"FINCH!!" He yelled from the passenger seat of my new car.

Taking my eyes off the road, I finally turned to my teenage friend, "What??"

"Put down the fucking phone, you idiot!"

I set the phone down on the cupholder between us, "But I'm texting somebody, you dunce!"

"Who the hell could you possibly be texting in this city?" He asked with an annoyed voice, "You only know me and Cole!"

Because his wish was my command, I stopped the car in front of a curb. It wasn't far from our destination. Well, at the time John thought it was mine but little did he know it was mostly his.

"Not true anymore!" I happily showed him the screen, "See? We got some fresh blood in the Infamous now!"

Squinting his eyes at the screen, John pulled his head back.

"Rey?" He pointed out the name of the guy I texted, "Like, the guy at the Cathedral?"

"Yepper!" I confirmed with a smile, "Also got Hilde to join in too."

My buddy smiled back, "Oh, goody!" He said with eccentricity, "So, we're just gonna let a couple cultists in our little boy band like they're the most trustworthy people in LD?"

"Don't worry." I put one hand on his shoulder, "I talked to'em. Turns out they hated Hell's Gate for the longest time. They were only in it to get away from their shitty lives!"

"Ah, so basically your typical cult members."

"Just missing the shaved heads and copied clothing."

Putting the phone back on the cupholder, I drove away from the curve and resumed driving to our little destination. Oh, man, John was gonna be so happy once he found out why I decided to bring him on this fun field trip to Compton, the gang capital of California. According the good ol'internet, there was an old nuclear facility located in the fringes of town, owned by the good ol' Hildebrand Atomics corporation! At first, I couldn't believe it because I don't think LA in real life has a place like that out there. But then I remembered, it's a fictional version of LA, so I took'em up on their word and headed out there with my new best friend!

Why we're going there, you ask? Well, apparently, some guy in Downtown LA'll pay truckloads of dollars for a can of nuclear waste. But I wanted it to be a surprise for him. I wanted his share of the money to be a gift for my second-in-command of our crew, the Infamous! That's right, readers! We got ourselves a crew! Me, John, Rey, and Hilde. Together, we...uh, I don't know yet. I just came up with this last night after getting kicked out of that nerd bar for bringing up that Holiday Special. For now, I'll just say we're retrievers! I'd call ourselves mercenaries but I haven't found a decent merc job in 3 months. I think my guys're still mad at me for blowing up that armory. Nobody told me there was methane in the air! How else was I supposed to hit a bowl!?

"So where're we goin, anyway?" He asked.

I kept all eyes on the cracked, unpaved road "Well, my early college student friend, we are going to the old nuclear facility!"

"You mean the Hildebrand Atomics place in Compton? You mind giving an explanation, preferably one that doesn't involve you talking about advancing some plot or character development?"

"Eh..." I tried to come up with some articulate, well thought out bullshit to satisfy his question, "...We're...looking for a...home! A new home for the Infamous!"

"Infamous?" He questioned the name, "Is that what we're calling ourselves now?"

"Well, it was either that or we call ourselves The Crew, but that old continuity already had the name."

"Figures." He placed his elbow on the handle.

Taking one hand off the wheel, I used to rub the little rascal's head, "Aw, don't be so negative! Look on the bright side! You're out exploring this shithole of a city with your new and awesome best friend!"

John chuckled, "Jesus. We should really call ourselves The Idiots."

Here we are! Taking a sharp right, I pulled up on a small ramp leading to a dilapidated, abandoned parking lot. I decided since there were no cars or homeless people to ask for a quickie, I'd just park right front of the abandoned building itself. John and I soon stepped out of my new Kommando, but not before I took the necessary equipment; My new phone, a block of cheese, a spare katana, a Nekro Lake comic book, a dildo, and a pair of shiny Colt M1911s. You know, the basic stuff!

John and I took our first steps onto the cracked curb. As he adjusted his new jacket I erm...found in the bar we got kicked out of the night before, he looked up at the sign above the main doors.

"Hildebrand Atomics." He pointed out the company's name before turning to me, "Okay, I'll ask again: what in all things holy do you think this place'll make a good hideout?"

Quick, Finch! Think of something!

"Uhh...there's free candy."

"Oh, we're child molesters now?" The snarky little bastard was at it again, "You got a van we could use? Fuck, you're stupid."

I couldn't resist chuckling at John's comment. I mean, c'mon! He just says the darndest little things!

"That a fake laugh to hide your real pain?"

The two of us resumed our walk toward the building, "Of my late girlfriend and son, ye – uhh...um..."

"What?"

"Nothing!"

Well...anywho...let's just forget about the girlfriend and son thing, okay? It uh, brings back some...past times.

Anywho, John and I headed inside the old Hildebrand Atomics place. With one kickdown of a door, the two of us set our first foot on the front interior entrance. Lemme tell ya, I think somebody was fucking inside that place, that or masturbating, cause it sure smelled like it just from taking our first steps inside. And it didn't smell like normal sex either. More like hooker sex. That's when the smell of semen and second-hand smoke go hand-in-hand! And I talk from experience!

"Goddamn, man." John covered his mouth with one hand, "Reeks."

"Ah, just like my apartment every Tuesday night!" I said to John.

"As if I didn't need another reason to stay away from Kolossus Apartments." He looked down at a dusty, brown desk that had nothing but an open, cobwebbed laptop.

I casually jumped over the wooden desk to check the computer.

"Aw, c'mon!" I wiped the webs off the laptop before pressing the power button, "They come with complementary cocaine!"

"Well, they gotta give the celebrities something for their stay. What're you doing, anyway?"

"Checkin to see if this laptop's got free porn."

Being a big meanie, John slammed the laptop shut as my hands were right on the keyboard!

"Finch, if I'm gonna dick around with you in a HildeAtomics facility, I'd at least prefer if we had all hands-on-deck and off your dick, okay?"

"Fine!" My hands managed to slip out of the computer, "No free porn for you, young man!"

Out of the smoggy blue, my buddy backhanded my left cheek. And it wasn't a weak one like a cowardly pimp who doesn't treat his hookers like upstanding, American citizens. It was more like Godzilla walked up to the U.S. Bank Tower and whacked the top half of it to the ground with his 500-yard cock. That kind of strong!

"...Shut up." He commanded with irritation before showing the way to the hallway ahead, "Now can we please go?"

With a smile I didn't have since I saw my son flip off some dri – Anywho, jumping over the desk again, I followed Johnny Boy into the shitty, gray hallway of the Hildebrand Atomics facility before I took back the lead. Just from 15 steps into the hall, I could see the abandonmentness of the place in the rooms we passed by. Dusty skeletons, weird guns I never seen before lying about (or aboot to some Canadians out there), more cobwebs, some shadows, and the occasional girl in a white dress pointing at me. Nothing out the ordinary in this part of LA. Well, except for the pods inside some of the scienc-y rooms. In them contained some really big skeletons!

And uhh...I totally forgot at the time of the short story. I had no fucking clue where to go. The author didn't give me a map nor did I use the internet to download one. So, I uh, walked through a shit-ton of decrepit hallways until we eventually had some dialogue.

"Finch."

"Yeah?"

"Where the fuck're we goin?"

"Uhh, somewhere?"

"Somewhere in..."

"Okay, I admit, I don't know where I'm going."

Eventually, the two of us stopped dead in our tracks. John looked up at me with the pissed off face I already knew in love.

"You're not serious, right?"

"This is the world of Infamous, JA." I told the young kid, "Nothing's serious in this universe."

"You don't know shit for directions, do ya?"

"Nope."

"Goddamnit, Finch!!"

Well, there ya go. Our little moment of dialogue-y fluff. Sorry.

Anywho, after some unconventional navigating and scene rushing, we finally made it to our gold mine: the vats room! Taking our first steps into the area, we found ourselves on one side of a metal walkway connected to a series of walkways overlooking every vat of glowing, gray, nuclear waste, each bearing the scratched-up Hildebrand Atomics logo, which was just the HA name over a nuclear symbol. Eesh, so much for creativity, eh?

John and I walked up to the nearest vat, which was the most undisturbed. The others had either skeletons or reeked of Venice Beach public restroom.

John spoke up looking down at the vat, "What fuckin moron leaves this shit around?"

"The kinda people that want us to be rich!" I exclaimed to my friend.

"Want us to be rich?" He turned to me, "Huh?"

"Oh, yeah." It was time to reveal the awesome truth, "Some guy's payin us to find some nuclear waste. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Surprise me about what? That we're somehow gonna steal a truckload of nuclear waste from an abandoned nuclear facility?"

"Well, what would you say that a can of this nuclear shit's a paycheck bigger than Kim Kardashian's ass?"

"I'd say I'd rather eat out Kim K's fat ass than stand 10 feet near nuclear radiation. And not only would I eat out her ass, I'd also fly all the way to Canada so I can punch Ryan Reynolds in his weird face!"

Wow! Eat out Kim Kardashian's ass then go all the way to Canada to personally punch Ryan Reynolds in the face! Now that's the spirit and drive I've been looking for in people all these years, and boy, did the author deliver! Oh, John. You've got King of the World written all over you.

"...Would you still wanna help me do the errand?" I asked my pervy, best friend, "There's money in it!"

John looked back down into the glowing vat.

"How about this." He pointed down at the liquidy radiation, "How about you go down there, get massively irradiated like an idiot, and I'll stay up here and keep watch?"

"Alrighty then!" I climbed up the railing that weakly protected two Ultras from our enhancer.

"Wait, Finch! Not-"

By the time I had both boots on the steel railing, I nosedived right into the sizzling radiation pool. As my head peeped out, I decided to take this moment to sit back against the wall and take in the warmth of the nuclear waste. It was like sitting back in the jacuzzi of the Kolossus Apartments. Well, it was until I got kicked out for skinny dipping on Valentine's Day! C'mon! It's the one day people spend time with someone or someone else's significant other, and that usually involves stripping yourself clean of clothing!

For a whole paragraph of narration, I was enjoying the radiation pool. That was until John had to interrupt me with dialogue!

"Finch!" He cried out, "The fuck're you doin?? Get the damn waste!"

"Aw, c'mon!" I complained, "It's warm! And it helps us Ultras with our powers!"

"Just get the shit so we can get outta here! This place is creepin me out!"

Fortunately, I also included a canister in my list of essentials, "Fine!" I complied with my insistent friend. Besides, there was money to be made in that old place, and this being a short story, I couldn't spend 10 to 20 pages narrating my experiences slouching in the radiation pool. Damn you, literature! Damn you and the Statue of Liberty to Hell!

Taking the lid off, I dipped the open canister into the pool of nuclear waste. Once I filled the sucker up all the way to the top, I, with erectile excitement, shut the lid in a speedster's notice.

"Oh, boy!" I yelled in the vat, gazing into the shiny silverness of the canister, "Do you know what this means, Johnny Boy!? By the end of this short story, we're gonna be rich!"

John looked off to somewhere in the distance, "Yeah, whatevs. Now, c'mon. Get outta the vat so we can get the fuck outta here."

With the metaphorical bar of gold in hand, I couldn't agree more!

"Alrighty!" I said as I reached into my suit for the teleporter device

Suddenly, I heard a dude's voice from up top, "Hey!" He shouted all pissed off, "There he is!"

From inside the vat, I could see my protégé stare off at the far side of the room with a shit-in-pants face. "Oh, shit!" I heard him panic as he stood against the railing.

"Hey!" I yelled up to John, "If he's here for the nuclear stuff, tell'im there's plenty for everyone!"

The unseen dude yelled, "We've got two guys! How the fuck did they get in here!?"

"Uhh, Finch." John looked down at me, "You might wanna get back up here!"

"Shut the fuck up before I blow yer ass to Chernobyl and back!"

Oh no you didn't! Nobody talks to my best friend like that and gets away with it!

Well, I was then pissed off because somebody threatened John. So, it was time to introduce my latest toy: The Teleporter! With one press of a button, I was already back on the walkway! KRRSH! And on top of some dude with a black leather jacket and a Glock 18, and with that, I was guessing an enemy. But fear not! For he...just died, oops. Oh well, John was saved so there's that!

### Shoot'em Up, Light'em Up

Finch Ferris

"Finally putting that thing to good use, eh?" John asked as he quickly snatched the machine pistol from the dead mook.

"Yesiree!" I got back up with some blood on my dapper, orange suit...costume, outfit, take your pick!

And just before I was about to take another dip in the radiation pool to clean my suit, Blam-blam-blam! Some gunshots came from the far side of the room, and went into the side of my ass, fortunately the cheek that's been itching for days! I looked over to witness my first enemies of the short story, none of whom looked like much. Just some dudes in black jackets (coming in either leather or fur), but they managed to make themselves look like an amateur, somewhat-original faction by bearing a radioactive symbol on each of their chests like the S on Super-...I mean Uber...guy. Yeah, let's go with that!

And since they all had their guns pointed at me and poor John, it was time for the action scene! And just when I came armed! Pulling out my M1911s, I duel-wielded them up at the jerks that shot at me. Though, I will admit, I was slightly thankful for one of them taking my itch away, but I would've liked it if I stopped itches with my own guns!

With all our guns on one another, Blam-blam-blam! And Kakakaka! Let's see, what else...Oh! BOOM! Click-click! I'll let you readers interpret what made those sounds. But anywho, as I took some more rounds, I managed to get a few in them too! I think I managed to get some guy in the chest, some girl in her shoulder, and two some other girl's head, so I got my first kill! Ten points! Well, more like twenty points for a headshot.

It was that time, the mooks took cover behind the doorway leading deeper in the facility, the one they came out of. Get it? Anywho, I figured while they were probably doing the same, I'd do a little reload and check up on John.

"Cool, eh?" I asked my shook-up friend.

"Yeah, if you say so!" He said, checking the G18 in his hand.

"Ah, smart!" I pointed at his new loot, "Remember, just-"

Ka-blam! Came some more dialogue-interrupting gunfire from somewhere in the room! God! Well, there's your establishing character moment, or faction moment! They like to get in the way of protagonists' dialogue by trying to shoot'em! But don't worry, readers! I had already reloaded my M1911s with fresh, new magazines! Time for the next gunfight scene!

With the jackets coming out to party, we fired our toys again, making all sorts of gun sounds. As we shot each other, I ran from one side of the walkway to the left because, you know, staying in on part of a big-ass room in a gun-shooty scene'd be boring! Gotta make it appealing to the action-loving readers! On the way, I fortunately clocked the lucky dude with the two women in his stomach. Oh wait. The ONE woman. Ouch.

I took cover behind the railings on the left side of the room while my enemies shot away at the steel plating. In that moment, I thought to myself: Hey, wait a minute! I have a healing factor! An awesome one! Why the fuck is Seth Martin writing me taking cover?? So, I did the sensible thing and got out of cover and resumed my part in the gunfight, hitting the lady in one titty!

I felt like I should apologize to the guy mook, "Sorry about hittin yer lady's titty, dude!"

"I'm gay, you dumbass!"

"Alright!" I moved up to the next walkway intersection, "A fellow member of the LGBT community! I'm pansexual like the author!"

"The what!?" He took cover behind the nearest railing while I did the same.

"Oh, you don't know? We're characters of some guy's short story! We were written to fight each other!"

He kinda didn't listen since he shot at me again. This time, he managed to penetrate the rusted steel that I unnecessarily took cover behind, so I got back up and got him in the chest.

"30 points!" I shouted in the middle of the room.

"What is this? A video game?" Commented John from behind.

"Nope!" I de-confirmed for my friend, "It's a short story! Not as fun, but hey, at least you get to see me narrate!"

"Fun, fun!"

As we spoke, the sound of footsteps suddenly dominated the room. John and I looked to every doorway in the area. My buddy cocked his new gun as each of them spit out tons more. Alright! I celebrated on the inside. Now we got a taco party!

"Son of a..." John didn't seem so pleased. I don't know why! At least by then, he'd get to use that sweet machine pistol!

But never mind that! Besides, I had an important question for the gangsters to ask before shooty-time.

"Wait!" I stopped the gangsters for one quick moment, "Is it really pronounced Hildebrand? Or is there a catch to the name, like Hild-a-brand or Hild-ay-brand?"

"What??"

"Shut up! This is serious! Now, could it be Hild-o-brand? Or-or maybe Hilde-Brand, like some language guy ran outta names to come up with so he put two into one, or someone's last name was Hilde and they married somebody who had Brand as their last name and they thought it was romantic to put theirs together? Could be true."

"I thought this was about how the company's name is pronounced."

"Right-right. So...just Hildebrand, or are there multiple ways of sayin it, or is it said some other way?"

"Finch, does this really matter!?" John interrupted our conversation, "It could go either fucking way for all I fucking care!"

"Aren't you a little curious?" I briefly turned to my buddy.

John shook his head disapprovately...disappointetely, disa – damnit!

"No." He leaned to the side to see something behind me, "Uhh, Finch? Ya might wanna-"

Wondering what my astute friend was afraid of, I turned around to see five of the gangsters aiming their guns at me. Hmm, nothing out the ordinary! Well, it seemed that way at first. That was until I noticed one of them looked more glowy than the others. A green aura of sparking energy surrounded his body. As he powered himself up even more, I could see a faint, green bubble cover him as he put his forearms together.

"Cool!" I said in excitement, "Look at that, John! He's got the gene like me!"

"Yeah, except that he's gonna use it to kill us!"

And John was right! After his comment, JRRR-KOOOOM! The guy unleashed an awesome, ear-piercing surge of green energy that soared across the opposite side of the room, blasting me all the way back to where I came in!

"Fucking badass!" I said as I landed on the cold, steel walkway.

Well, it was badass! Until I saw John flying off too!

"John!" I quickly got back up, just as I saw him cannonball right into the same vat I took a dip in, "John!? JOOOOHHHHHNNNNNN!!!!!"

NOOOOOOO!!!! Those sons of bastards! Fucking cockfucking asscock pricks! Nobody kills my friends and gets away with it!!! Pissed off beyond Whittier, I decided to get up close and personal to the nuke-powered assholes! And whaddaya know!? I got my lucky katana, the best tool for all your mercenary, on-the-side vigilante needs! Running up to the nearest gangster, I sent the shiny, sexy blade right into his love part! I know what you're thinking, but I wasn't talking about his pee-pee, I meant where true love, spirit, and courage comes from! Right there in your chest!

You're gonna pay for his death, you fucking cuntfuckers!!!! With more of those weird gangsters in the room, I ran up to another and took a swing to his head. Lemme tell ya, he'll be getting dumber now! He only had half a brain at the time! Get it? Anywho, the chick behind the second guy, well, let's just say she was a-head of him, including the guy behind me, get it?

With more of those pricks coming in by the number, I put away the katana and exchanged it for something a bit more American, my guns! Pulling out my M1911s again, I delivered kickass revenge on the dudes that showed up on the walkway leading back to the entrance as I made my way to the vat. Staring down into the green pool of nuclear waste, I saw John submerged deep in the radiation. Oh no! I panicked. Don't worry, Johnny Boy! I'll save you!!! Climbing over the railing, I leaped back down into the pool to get my friend back. As my body splashed into the warm, soothing pool of radiation, I quickly grabbed my friend and pulled him back up to the land of oxygen with my good ol' teleporter!

KRRSH! Both our bodies landed right on another of those stock mooks on the walkway. With a few coughs, John immediately woke back up into the kickass fight we were having before one of them tried to kill him!

"Bleugh!!" John coughed up some of the nuclear waste, "God-fucking-damnit!"

Grabbing his hand, I lifted my friend off the ground, "Looks like somebody's goin to Hell!"

John aggressively took his hand away from mine, "No shit!" He said, "I'm friends with you!"

Getting shot in the head, I put on M1911 away and exchanged it for my sexy katana, "Aw, you could learn a lot from being my friend!"

"You haven't shown me much so far." He took the M1911 I wasn't using from my costume, "All you've shown was how to be a deluded maniac and how to get kicked out of a bar for nerds!"

"Aw, c'mon! Aren't you a little curious about the Star Wars Holiday Special? I just wanted to know where I could get a free copy!"

"And by wanting to know, you got beaten to pseudo-death by a bunch of geeky losers in Jedi cloaks with fake lightsabers!"

"Hey...The author is a geeky loser."

In that moment, I finally got pissed off again about the bullets that kept hitting me. I was trying to have a conversation with my friend who got sent flying into a radioactive vat and yet these pricks insisted on making noise while we were talking! God, some people are rude! No manners at all! Oh, well! We got what we wanted anyway. Who needs revenge when you got moolah, am I right?

"Yeah, maybe we should get outta here." Suggested John as he took two steps away from me.

I held the canister up to my face, "If ya say so! We're gonna be rich, Johnny Boy!"

Then outta nowhere, some asshole shot me in the back of the head! The bullet made my blood splash itself right outta my mouth and onto the fucking canister!

I turned to said asshole, "Hey! I just cleaned this thing!" I whipped out my gun just for him, "How dare you!"

BLAM! I...well, I don't need to provide narrative fluff to explain what I did just then. Dusting off his preppy school clothes, John took off from the bad guys just as one of them was powering themselves up for another blast. With the radioactive gold mine in hand, I followed my friend outta there so we could get out and get our well-deserved cash prize! The two of us managed to make it past the doorway leading out the vat room, but then I came across a teeny-tiny problem: I forgot that I was lost. John and I had to navigate our way through the shitload of halls and doorways that took us out of the building. Hey, don't get mad at me for it! I got better things to do than look for maps like getting high and hanging out with my best friend!

But, I'll admit, because we were lost, that kinda came with problems. Those warhead-powered gang dudes were able to corner us quickly, such as one that caught us in the middle of a shitty hall that reeked of piss and crappy cocaine, and had just made another cool shockwave that sent John and I out a window.

"Shiiiiiit!!!" John screamed on the way down.

"Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh!!!!" I on the other hand, enjoyed the adrenaline-pumping trip down to the ground.

KRRCK! Then the trip stopped, "Aww." I mumbled as most of my bones shattered into pretty glass shards. John, meanwhile, got up with no trouble!

"Gagh! Fuck!" He had to dust himself off again. That was until he looked down at himself, "Wait a minute. How the hell am I still alive??"

As my bones recovered from the fall, I lifted myself off the trashy, cracked concrete. I took the moment to look at my dirty friend.

"Plot armor?" I guessed, "It happens to protagonists all the time!"

John stared back in contempt, "Is there a more down-to-Earth guess in your head somewhere?"

I needed a second to come up with a so-called "down-to-Earth" explanation. Eesh. Some people just can't embrace the wackiness! But, because my friend requested one, I promised to give him something for his loyal service!

Eventually came up with something he might prefer, "The author wants to make you the protagonist of another story. Or, he wants you to have your own series of short stories centering around your adventures!"

John rolled his eyes, "I hate you. But at the same time, I'll take your company over Cole's any day."

"Hey! Be nice to your friend! He just wants everyone to stop being so tight-ass!"

John adjusted the waist of his dark blue skinny jeans, "Yeah, whatever." Something by the wall caught his emerald green eyes, "Oh, shit!" He pointed at something.

Eyes darting back to HildeAtomics, I clocked out yet another of those walking warheads standing in front of us. It was just in time for us to witness another cool, nuclear blast from these guys! Man, do I love it when they do that! I rarely get to see Ultras with nuclear powers! I usually run into elemental mutants, you know, fire, ice, electricity, the basic stuff. I mean, those're awesome, but sometimes in order to make stories interesting, ya gotta try something new! Glad the author's taking the concept up a notch! Wait...

Here it comes! The green glow from the gangster's sparking energy became brighter. Oh, man, this is gonna be fucking awesome!

Well, the next kickass blast never came. Blam! Came a gunshot right next to me. I turned to see my friend John holding my M1911. The gangster now had a hole in his head I didn't see before.

"Aww. I love it when they do that."

John rolled his eyes, "He was gonna try to kill you, Finch. Damn Nukists."

"Is that what they're called?" I reached for my katana and my other M1911, "Huh. Fitting! But don't worry! I have a healing factor! Speaking of my Ultra power, you look great for somebody who took a big-ass fall!"

John looked down at himself, "Yeah, thank the godless universe."

Mr. Gloomy and I set off for the parking lot. Now that we were outside, we were two tits distance away! With one kickdown of a rusted gate, we were already there! Well, not just us, but several more of these so-called Nukists, most of whom were checking out how awesome my Kommando was. Now, normally I wouldn't mind that, but only John and I get to R. Kelly my own gas tank! I'd include Rey and Hilde too but because John, my new lieutenant, had some suspicions, I decided a little later they were gonna have to earn that privilege. For now, they'll have to use the side of the road.

"Hey!" I pointed the blade of my katana at the pissing Nukist, "John and I're the only ones who get to do that!"

The Nukist immediately took his smooth, floppy penis out of the tank and back into his black jeans. "Oh, fuck!" He panicked as he backed away from the Kommando.

"Yeah. Oh, fuck indeed, dude!" John called out the guy with my gun, "Get outta here!"

The Nukist took a step toward us, "Make me-"

BLAM! John shot the pisser.

"Augh! Fuck!" The dude landed on the ground on all fours, "Ya fuckin shot me!"

"Better than getting killed by this dude!" Said Johnny A, "Trust me, you don't wanna pick a fight with him! He's an Ultra mutant like you. Healing factor and all."

Aww. Instead of one last fight scene, the Nukist actually listened to John and fled back to HildeAtomics. Even his buddies ran back in with him! Damnit! So much for keeping extra rounds! Unlike John, I actually anticipated having fun inside Hildebrand Atomics! But man, seeing my best friend survive a 40 ft fall and scare off some Ultras like myself a few minutes...Awesome! I'm so proud of the boy! I knew I made the right choice recruiting him into my ranks!

"Well..." John needed a moment to catch some hard-earned breaths, "...that was a fucking ordeal!"

"Would it help if I invited Tara Karla to your dorm?" I put one hand on John's shoulder with a congratulatory smile.

"Fuck. You." He looked over to the Kommando MKII, "I'll take a Hollywood career over this shit any day!"

"Hey, you're still young, kid!" I scratched my nuts with my M1911, "Hollywood could always use underage kids who'll become drug-addled messes in the future! You could be the next Edward Furlong!"

"Uh, no."

"Okay, erm...Alyson Stoner?"

"Who the fuck is that?" He stretched his arms with his back straight, "C'mon, gimme someone more recent and controversial."

"Miley Cyrus?"

"...Sure. Why the hell not?" He looked around the vacant parking lot, "So what do we do now that that shit is done?"

The two of us made way to the Kommando.

"We go get rich, John!" I told my protégé, "Then, we go to my apartment and have a meth break!"

John opened the passenger door to the car, "Yeah, I'll pass on the latter. You have fun though."

I sat down on the smooth, leathery driver seat, "Aw, c'mon! It's glass! The intelligent drug!"

"No!"

"Fine!" I pouted with all hands on the wheel, "I'll get high in the next short story! But first, I gotta make a stop real quick..."

### The All-Seeing Eyes

Ryan Johnson

"So how was it last night?" A guy at the desk asked one of the many armed guards.

"Oh, it was fantastic!" The guard answered, standing in front of the desk, "We all had a good time! No break-ins, no leaked photographs, or paparazzi, everything went smooth!"

"Damn!" The desk guy expressed surprise, "At the Liefeld Academy? That's impressive."

"I know." He agreed, "It's easier to guard her out there than out in this city. I swear those paparazzi and her demented fans're out to get her and us too!

The guard chuckled, "Yeah. Exactly!"

Feeling extremely yucky from having been in that HildeAtomics place, I slowly approached the desk as the two were having whatever conversation they were having. As I got close, they both stopped talking to take a good look at me. I couldn't really make out their expressions, probably because they were both wearing gas masks at the time, but I knew how they thought, and I did not care because I was just happy to be alive. Yes, alive, despite being there when that maniac tried to shoot us. Good thing that Finch guy seemed to have had other priorities than killing every last one of us.

I needed a few breaths before getting a chance to speak, "...Tell Fantasia I'm ready to see her..."

The desk guy stared up at me, "Fine." He grabbed his radio, "Yeah, uh, Fantasia? One of those weirdos is here to see you."

Nice attitude, sir.

"Send'im in." Said the voice on the other line. I curled my lip over hearing her voice, knowing she was not gonna be pleased with the news.

I looked over to the guard, who put his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me. With one sigh, I started following him to the elevator, which was already occupied by two drunk ass guards who clearly didn't seem to give a shit about their job. As we made it to the bottom floor, the two of us were on our way to the secret meeting room she was waiting in. I'm not gonna lie. I was scared shitless the whole way there. I joined the Nukists to get the chance to use my powers and hopefully find some purpose in life. Aiding some kooky Hollywood celebrity and her private army was not one of them.

As the guard opened up the door to the room, I hesitantly went on in as he shut it behind me. I took a deep, silent breath, taking snaps at the "heads" sitting in the rectangular, conference table having an argument. Just by walking in, I already had a good feeling what they were pissed about thanks to the screen on the left side displaying footage of that Finch guy slaughtering my friends at the Hildebrand Atomics facility.

I didn't say much at first, mostly because I was staring deep into the camera feed, watching that maniac kill my buddies in the facility. The image of the yellow-eyed redhead in that scratched-up, orange suit with random bits of armor plastered all over burned into my retinas. Whoever we encountered in HildeAtomics, was not your normal man. He was us. A predator. A fucking terminator for Christ's sake.

Finally, one of the guys in the meeting turned to the closed doorway where I stood.

"Hello, warhead man." That same guy spoke up, "What took you so long?"

"Traffic." I justified with one finger pointing at the screen "And that."

Another guy, bearing a scar that went down his face, slammed his fists onto the table, "Damnit! Do you have any idea how much of a disaster you created!?"

"Uhh, we didn't know he was in the facility." I kept my cool in front of them.

"How the hell could you not??" He asked with irritation, "Who in your little gang has a scorpion tattoo on their face!? And which of you dresses like he goes go fucking private school!?"

"Sorry, we were a little preoccupied looking for whatever Fantasia wanted us to find."

"Then he's gonna be a fucking problem then."

"How?" I asked with a shrug, "All he took was a can of nuclear waste! Please tell me in what universe does he become a problem to you?

"Because..." Said a woman in the dark corner of the room.

The woman walked away from the darkness, revealing her gaudy appearance for me to gawk at. Her short, neon blue hair and dress made the whole room look more of an emo teen's bedroom than it already was. Glitter complimented some of her mocha brown skin, white lips, blue dress, and the rest of her face. Talk about making yourself stand out from the crowd.

"...of your moronic antics at Hildebrand Atomics, he might go back and discover our plans!" She glared down at me with gritted, snow-white teeth.

I moved my seat further into the underside of the table. In that one moment, I mustered the confidence to make one brief chuckle.

"Good luck with that." I said, "If he could kill us, you know, living warheads, like he did back at the freeway, then Atoms know what he's gonna do you if he gets his hands on you!"

"Don't get coy with me, Ryan Johnson." The woman walked around the table to confront me, "Remember..." Without giving an alert, one of her men grabbed me by my black fur jacket. The bastard lifted me up and slammed me right onto the cold, hard surface of the wooden table, "...I can kill you and your little gangster mutant friends whenever I want, wherever I want!"

With the men, money, and weapons she had in store, I instantly shut the fuck up. She was right to say that if she wanted, I could be assassinated in the middle of Downtown LA by some guy in a mask and have my corpse sent straight to the crematory by some paid-off cops in the next few hours.

"Okay!" I squirmed as he tightened his grip.

Thankfully, he didn't choke me for long as he let go after a few seconds.

"I told you morons to use those guns." She commented, taking a step away to pull out a cigarette, "But of course, what do you expect from the Nukists?"

"Again..." I reluctantly lifted myself off the table, "...We didn't know he was coming."

"Whatever you say, lowlife." Said the woman rudely while she took her first puff of smoke, "Now, Ryan...get the fuck out of my face. And if you fail me again, I'll have your fucking head."

Not having felt the need to be told twice, I started to head toward the door, "Yeah...okay." I nodded on the way.

Leaving the room behind, power-walking became my new way of getting the hell away from Fantasia. With the shit that went on in Hildebrand Atomics, I just wanted to head back to Whittier and not go near Los Angeles for a while. Getting back in touch with my fellow Nukists was gonna have to wait with that Finch Ferris lunatic driving around the city in that Death Race car of his. The Atoms only know what the fuck he was doing...

### A Fourth Wall Shattered

Finch Ferris

"Finch, you really think this is a good idea?" Asked my buddy as I set my boots on the second floor of the complex.

Stopping before a shitty apartment in the shitty part of...a place in Southern California I cannot mention for privacy's sake, I turned to John.

"Of course, it's a good idea!" I assured my preppy student friend, "The author tried getting you killed earlier, so we're gonna teach'im not to mess with his characters!"

John looked up to me flabbergastered, "Huh!?"

I stopped at a specific door in the hall, one that bore the number and letter of his home, "You'll see!"

With both feet on the welcome mat, I knocked on the door to get his attention. After a few minutes, good things came to a couple of dudes that waited! The door opened sesame, and showing himself to the great light of the Lord was the man himself, the maker, writer, Seth fucking Martin, my creator and author of this short story!

"Hello?" The author greeted rudely.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Author!" I decided not to sink to his level and greeted cheerfully, "I was just swinging by the neighborhood and figured I'd come here for my friend!"

"The fuck're you talking about?" He asked all obliviously!

C'mon, man! Seriously?? How do you not recognize the most awesome and badass protagonist you've ever made??

"Well, you know this short story you've currently writing as of this moment?" I explained to the rude author as I walked into his apartment, "You know, the one where you put a small scene of my buddy John Adoniyah getting blasted by those Nukist assholes and threw'im in a pit of nuclear waste?"

"Hey!" He shouted from inside his home, "You can't come in here! Get out!"

With a small shrug, John followed me inside, rolling his eyes as he walked past our creator.

"Hey, focus!" I walked to his fridge to find a snack, "This is important!" I managed to snatch a delicious bag of chips for some reason in his fridge, "You fucking nearly got my friend killed in that scene! How dare you do that!!"

I munched on some chips I stuffed in my mouth. Mmm...the sour cream and onion taste melted in my tongue. Dori – um, I mean, Foritos!

"Yeah, well, you gotta take a risk in your work sometime!" He pathetically justified, shutting the door behind him, "You wanna get the reader's attention!"

I got pissed off by that comment!

"Ohhhh." I gobbled up some more chips, "I see! So, in order to be the ultimate edgelord, ya gotta get a character, that is my best friend, to briefly put'im at risk so you can get more readers! Well fuuuuuuck yoouuuu!"

"Ah." John spoke up out of the smoggy blue, "Startin to feel just like yesterday when we went into that cathedral."

For a moment, I pondered on that comment, "Huh. You're right!" I smiled to my good buddy, "That was fun, wasn't it?"

John leaned up against a wall with another roll of his screaming, emerald eyes, "If you're talking about the fighting, not really. But if you're referring to your ass getting kicked by a bunch of Ultras, then I'd call it hella amusing."

"Hey, just trying to give my friends a good time!"

My focus soon went back to the dick author that tried to kill my friend. I grabbed him by the collar of his black t-shirt and slam-dunked his ass on the sleek, shiny, ebony table that I immediately destroyed and refuse to this day to pay for!

"You owe my friend five bucks, asshole!" I told the author, "He deserves compensation for nearly dying in this short story!

"Five bucks!?" Seth moaned like he totally didn't write that shit!

"We came here so I can get compensation again?" John cocked an eyebrow, "Déjà vu mean anything to you, Finch?"

I needed a moment away from the author, and some chips and a can of soda to think about his question. But I couldn't get the latter two because I had the Mr. Martin's shirt in my hand.

"Hmm, no."

"Didn't think so." He stared at me with a sardonic face, "Now let'im go before some jackass calls the fucking cops."

"But our creator owes you five bucks!"

He took his back away from the wall. "I'll make do with your money and any I find in my one-night-stands' houses!"

"That's the spirit!" I gave him a thumbs up, "Wait, what was that first thing?"

"Shoplifting."

"Oh."

Seth opened his mouth, "So, uhh, are ya gonna let me go? John said he's perfectly fine with shoplifting and stealing money from the people he sleeps with!"

"Erm, I don't know." I lifted him off the table I broke in half, "John may have forgiven ya but we did kinda come all the way here from LA. It'd make the last the part of this short story worthwhile to the readers if we punched ya! C'mon, take one for your audience! You do owe'em that after making'em read this when they could be reading Dune, or Harry Potter, or Fifty Shades of Grey!"

"Bitch, I'd like to see you-"

It was at this moment that I launched my fist into his left cheek. It was also this moment that I may have destroyed his TV which was totally not my fault! I mean, he was the one that written that shit about poor John getting blasted by the Nukists! He should know better than to kill off his protagonists like that! I find John to be an awesome, however emo, character. Therefore, he shall stick around for at least 10 short stories.

"Satisfied, Ferris?" John asked calmly.

"Now that I have avenged you, yepper!" I confirmed.

But, before we left, we just realized one teeny-tiny problem. We were hungry, and I didn't go shopping for the past two weeks. John and I looked at each other before turning to the refrigerator in Seth's kitchen, then we turned back. In a lightning strike, the two of us rushed to the kitchen. John went for the food in the cabinets while I put my focus on the fridge. Thankfully, the author had the essentials for us to loot; Chips, beer, candy, the secret kilo of coke hidden behind the pans John didn't want me to take but took it anyway. We were set for at least three days!

"Alright, looks like we got everything we wanted!" John wrapped both arms around a couple bags of chips and some candy, "Let's get the fuck outta here!"

I lead the way out the apartment with the tasty, mouth-watering loot, "Cheese-it!" I told John just before kicking down the white wooden door to the hall. Passing by a mysterious dude in a black hoodie with a camera, John and I ran down the stairs and charged toward the door leading outside.

Hooray! Home free, baby! Everything's gonna be awesome and consequence-free now...

TO BE CONTINUED...

## ASSASSIN'S GAME

What keeps an assassin going? There could be a lot of things; Money, desperation, an income perfect enough to put food on the table, vengeance against someone claimed to have done wrong, any combination of the above. Motives, and how they do their job, vary wildly, especially with the likes of three different assassins operating in Los Angeles. Take a seat and enjoy the ride through the eyes of the predatory Hardline, the light-hearted Hotshot, and the gunslinging 6-Shooter as they each do their part in the assassin game in their own deadly ways.

### Hardline

The Game. The only thing that matters in our little underworld, and the only thing that will matter to...professionals like me. In the Game, there are only two types of people: The Predators and the Prey. Once the two enter the woods, only the predator will come out alive with the corpse of their prey, and I intend to be the predator of this game. But there's only one thing I don't like about the Game...sometimes there's two Predators. There can be only one.

"Hello?" I answered my phone on speaker in the middle of working out.

"Hardline." Said the deep, gravely voice of a man, "I hear you're the best in the City of Angels."

"Whoever you heard that from," I put one dumbbell down, "they're not wrong."

"I have a job for you." He said before a cough.

"Who's the unlucky one?" I asked him as I repeatedly lifted the dumbbell up and down.

"Let's just say he's a wealthy businessman who doesn't play by our rules and needs...permanent correction."

"Understood. Where is he?"

And here I go. My call to the hunt. Once I gotten word of who and where my new prey was, I set off into the concrete jungle of Los Angeles right away. Deer doesn't simply wait in the woods to be eaten by the jaguar. The jaguar has to run on inside to find his food.

I arrived at his location: Downtown LA, where the lights shined below the night sky, men and women in suits hustled and bustled in their own fancy ways, and the occasional Hollywood celebrity has a tantrum in front of the police after their latest drug-induced car accident. I watched from the rooftops with my sniper rifle to find my prey. Nathan Ingrid was his name. A wealthy businessman looking to run to the LAPD to reveal some secrets of his superiors in hopes of keeping his cushy job and home, maybe get a nice promotion once all his bosses get put behind bars for 10 months. Well, it looked like that little fantasy wasn't gonna happen if I'm receiving the check.

I took the time in scanning all the shiny, expensive cars that encompassed the lit streets. Internally, I chuckled, you can't be too far. Nobody drives a car with a diamond stripe on it, let alone a gold one. Makes you too easy a target for the easily-offended, or the easily-jealous that have to endure the gang violence just south of this place, just like I had on the opposite end of this country.

Looking down on the sidewalk, I got the chance to see my prey for the first time. Walking out of the front doors was the old, gray-haired, man I saw in his photo. Looking both ways and behind himself, the man headed straight for his car, believing his predator was gonna be somewhere on ground zero when he goes hunting. I found his paranoia to be horribly misplaced, and he was gonna find out why real soon.

Getting inside his car, I laid the crosshairs on my prey's balding head, awaiting the chance to take it down. The man had no idea he was about to be a trophy on a professional assassin's wall. But just as I was about to pull the trigger, I could overhear somebody yelling from far away. In that moment, I had no concerns for whom was screaming at the top of his lungs. All that mattered to me was the hunt. No minor annoyance could get in my way.

"HEY!" Was one word I managed to pick up from the man's distant yells.

Keeping all eyes on the target, I was finally about to get the job done. But before that, ka-blam! A small wind passed right by my head, forcing me to take all my attention away from the suit down below and divert it to whatever or whomever tried to distract me. Catching the bright, neon green eye sore from the building across, I scoped it out the light coming from the eye visor worn by a man who repeatedly waved to get my attention.

Well, he has it alright. Big mistake if he's trying to keep me from killing the target. Also, I wonder how the hell he got up there. I hope he was smart enough to use a grappling hook or some other equipment to get up there. Going up by elevator or stairs is sure to bring unwanted attention.

And look who came knocking for unwanted guests. Storming out the only door leading into the building across, poured several guards all armed with handguns and aimed at my fellow assassin.

"Yeah." I decided to stop worrying about the competitor, "Good luck to you."

I looked back down on the street. With all crosshairs on the target again, I did so just in time before he took off from the curb in his car. Damnit. I lamented to myself. That guy distracted me. Oh well. I guess I'm gonna have to get up, close, and personal for my latest kill.

With my grappling hook in hand, I aimed down at the fourth floor of the building to the right of the one across the street. Putting my rifle away for later, I carefully walked up to the very edge and stood atop the left corner. Pulling the trigger, the wire stretched itself all the way to the other building, taking me all the way down to the street, and onto the rooftop of my target's vehicle all without a hitch. Along the way, I asked myself if the assassin on the other side was capable of doing what I was doing, but stopped worrying halfway having recalled his soon-to-be encounter with those equally-incompetent slobs people call security guards.

My heavily-armored body slammed itself on the car's roof. I could hear panic from the driver as he messily swerved into the lanes to our left and right before shifting back to the middle. Because I was still in a very lit area of Downtown LA, exposed to the masses of eyes waiting for something interesting to post on their Instagram for the millionth time, I had to wait for a bit until he got under a bridge or an alleyway. With actions like mine, the darkness is your best friend, remember that, people.

Eventually, my hopes for less exposure came to fruition. Seconds before he stupidly drove under the upcoming bridge, I prepared my silenced P226 down to the driver's spot. But before we could go dark, PFFF! Something popped from somewhere on the car. My rationale quickly told me one of the tires were shot, but how? There was nobody else but that failure of an assassin from the rooftop.

Well, whatever concerns I had about who shot the tires had to come to a quick end for the car was already going haywire in all directions. Finally, the vehicle stopped, and by stopped, I mean the driver took it right into the concrete of a wall under the bridge. The car was strong enough for both the driver to swear in panic and his mistress to scream at the top of her lungs. I had the misfortune to be thrusted into the wall myself, landing safely on the twisted metal of the hood. I nearly dropped my pistol on the way, but I couldn't let that go given I was in a very public part of LA.

Eager to escape from the hunt, the driver out of panic got out of the wrecked car. His mistress stayed inside not wanting to get in my crosshairs and join Death, not that I planned to. I just wanted my prey, who was getting away. Getting back up from the hood, I jumped off to pursue the man. Unfortunately, my window of opportunity for a stealthy kill had just been shattered with someone else's bullet, but I wasn't gonna let him get away just like that. That's not how I work, so I pursued him just as he took a right into an alleyway. It took that moment to exchange my handgun for my twin-bladed staff. I figured there was no harm since he wasn't a combatant in any way.

As I pursued the suit deep into the alley, I passed by all the things that were all too familiar to me in the old days. Bottles strewn about the ground, a homeless man shouting about his sunglasses getting stolen by some gang, a man and a woman getting it on right next to a dumpster, same old things I had to run into during my times as a kid who had to smuggle cheap toys from a liquor store just to have something to enjoy in my parents' rundown, studio apartment.

The man had to stop sometime, and he did. Too bad he did so in front of a group of jacketed boys who looked no older than sixteen sharing a bottle of whiskey. My head tilted as I got glimpses of the nuclear symbols each of them bore on their exposed T-shirts. I also saw them share something else for a drink; A silver canister bearing the Hildebrand Atomics logo. I couldn't help but recall the news of the HildeAtomics building getting swarmed by the authorities a while ago.

My prey turned, "Stop!" He shrieked in utter fear, pulling out a small semi-auto from his suit.

Standing before him, I stayed silent. Holding my staff before his terror-filled eyes, the man collapsed on the dirty concrete. He covered his sight with both hands while his body shook like an earthquake. I took my time in seeing my prey squirm. I wanted to savor the moment in successfully hunting the game.

Finally, I went for the kill. With one swing, my staff managed to tear a nice hole in my prey's neck. Crimson red instantly oozed out like water coming out of a sponge. And just like that, the hunter hunted the hunted. By then, with the sirens blaring from a distance away and the gang of nuclear-powered Ultras running off without the homeless man's whiskey, I figured it was time to retreat back into the night and await further orders for my pay. With my grappling hook, I shot up at the ledge of one of the surrounding, rundown buildings and climbed up the rooftop. It was then I took off from the area now that nobody could spot nor catch me.

### Hotshot

"Yeah, I'm just working..." I flipped through the channels, "...fixing the lights."

For a brief moment, my eyes darted to my rifle before coming back to the TV.

"Well, when're you gonna be done?" My friend asked on the other line.

"Uhh..." I looked around my apartment to find something to wreck. I needed to find an excuse not to go hanging out with Deryl before work.

TV? Nope I need that more than anything. Xbox? Oh, fuck no. Hm, my couch? I rarely have people over so I may not actually need it. Nah, I may need that for one-night stands. I can't destroy the table. I need something to put my guns and legs on. Finally, I looked up at the light bulb hovering right over me. Yoink! I grabbed my HK416 from the little table beside my chair and ka-blam! Darkness. Well, there was the light from the TV but that wasn't gonna help me everywhere else.

"Nope, sorry." I said to Deryl, "Light malfunction. Gotta go!"

Before he could say his goodbyes, I hung up as quickly as I could.

"Alrighty then!" I looked down at my rifle before checking my phone for the time, "Oh, shit!" I said to myself, "I gotta go! Gotta put in my punch card!"

With no time to waste, I snatched my eye visor and bulletproof vest as quickly as I could and set off for the Hildebrand Atomics facility in Compton. My employer said that was where my target hung out in most of the time. Didn't know why at the time, though. I heard it shut down a couple years back due to some failure or something. But hey, money's money, right? All that weed and motorcycle parts aren't gonna buy themselves!

Taking my motorcycle, I easily made my way through the traffic to the facility in just an hour or so. Hell, it didn't even take an hour! It had only taken 30 minutes for me to get to the facility! Who the hell buys a car in LA? With motorcycles and bicycles, they could skip this shit in half the time! Oh well! Better them than I, right?

Stopping a block away from the front entrance, I noticed something particularly off looking at the parking lot. I decided to park across the street to scope out the suspicious presence. Looking through the ACOG of my beautiful SR-25 Marksman, my lip curled over catching sight of three LAPD cars and several officers grouped up before the entrance. From the far right of my scope, I clocked out one guy coming out of the cracked doorway before two others followed him side-by-side. The two groups stood before one another on the curb.

Whaddaya know? I smirked. The leader reached into his pimping black jacket. Out coming was a fat wad of green to happily hand to the officers.

"Well, lookee here!" I said to myself, "LAPD. Business as usual."

Keeping my ACOG on my targets, something buzzed in my pants.

"I want you to make me feel, like I'm the only girl in the world!" Muffled music then went off, "Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love!"

I quickly snatched my phone and saw it was my buddy. I then proceeded to do the sensible thing.

"Hello?" I answered, keeping one hand on my rifle.

"Hey, man!" My friend and employer Jayden greeted with excitement, "Whassup!?"

"Heyyyy! How've ya been?"

"Been doin good, man!" Said my buddy from the other line, "So did ya do it?"

"No!" I angrily told him, "I was so close! This jackass in a mask got to him before I could!"

My employer chuckled, "You sure it had nothing to do with casually walking into a building armed to the teeth and going up the elevator?"

"Hey!" I tried to justify, "If they can let some guy drive around in some crazy Death Race car, I can carry my guns around with no problem!"

"Death Race car...huh. That sounds familiar. I swear I saw something like that in Jordan's Chop Shop the other day."

I recalled the time I was there, "Oh yeah. Urban Car or something? Came with keys and a free phone.

"What kinda idiot leaves that shit behind in their own car?"

"I know! Too bad that cat ran away when he opened the door." I chuckled myself, "Left a lotta marks on that gang banger. Damn, I woulda liked to get another cat! Arbuckle could really use another kitty friend!"

Looking back into the ACOG, my focus came back to the jacketed guys and the cops. My head tilted when I saw them not looking at each other. They kinda looked like...they were looking at me. It even seemed like the leader pointed in my direction! And that was when their guns were raised...at me. Oh shit! I immediately picked off the leader right between the eyes before getting one of his bodyguards in both shoulders. The cops fired at me as well, so I had to get a few in their kneecaps to slow them down. The gangsters ran back inside, leaving the dirty cops to their usual police brutality.

Well, looks like my work here is done! I may have pissed off the law, but hey, I got the gang's leader! Some of the authorities I didn't take down started making their way toward me, so I figured it was time to go. I hopped onto my motorcycle, holstering my rifle as I flipped the ignition. As soon as the engine was ready, I took off as fast as I could before they had the chance to start pursuing.

After speeding off five blocks deep into town, I finally looked back out of precaution. It seemed like the fun wasn't over. There was one cop car still coming hard for me, and it was coming fast. I kept the pedal to the metal seeing how he wasn't gonna pull away anytime soon. But luckily for me, I eventually found myself in a four-way intersection, a very congested one by the way, each containing drivers eager to get the hell out as fast as they could. Seeing as the light I was coming across was red from halfway, I made no plans on stopping anytime soon.

But when I actually skipped the light, well...let's just say I should've asked myself: If the light I'm facing is red, what's the color for the other street? It was only then I realized I was a dumbass, which I physically proved to myself when I actually made it to the intersection. I was just in time for a car coming from the right to coming to a grinding halt just a few centimeters away from my motorcycle. The sheer closeness was enough to get me to fumble about with the handles, steering me all the way to the left of the street, charging right into the fancy, black fence shielding the famous Hot, Steamy Coffee shop save for the door. Once the front of my motorcycle hit the steel surface, it came to a complete stop, unlike my body which flung right into the window, fucking it up beyond repair.

Crashing into some poor hipster's table, I landed right on the floor. My eyes darted around the place, counting every individual that stared like I was Batman wanting to get a drink in full costume.

"You fucking asshole!" The same hipster expressed pissed off-edness over her spilled coffee, "You totally ruined my pumpkin spiced latte! You, like, don't realize how much you fucked up my afternoon!"

As I struggled getting up off the glass shard-ridden floor, I tried coming up with a clever comeback, "Well...my motorcycle's ruined so my afternoon's, like, more fucked up than yours!"

The hipster stormed out of the place all angry and bitchy. At that point, I managed to stand up. I took the moment to look outside. At least my plan worked perfectly! The cop car had just surrounded itself by a bunch of civilian ones, leaving me a small window of opportunity to get the fuck out. But just when I was gonna skedaddle, the fucking hipster girl came back, and decided in her rage to pack some kickass heat...

"Woah!" I instantly backed away from the woman, who had an Ithaca 37 in her hands, "There's no need for viole-"

"Fuck you!" She shouted with rage in her voice, "The Hipsters With Guns ain't gonna stand for this shit any longer!"

"Hipsters With Guns? Yah shit."

The woman was in no mood to listen. Neither were her fellow hipsters, the rest of whom followed suit by taking out their own guns. As my heart raced beyond the finish line, I looked to the woman, who had just cocked her shotgun. BOOM! She let out one shell to express her, like, anger towards me. But fear not! For I managed to jump out of the way before she had the chance to discover what made up my sexy face. Reaching for my P226, I took zero hesitance on putting a round in her hand dead center. The bullet forced her to drop her pump-action and a shriek of pain.

"Oh, fuck me up the ass!" I mumbled as I turned my attention back to the other armed hipsters. Putting my eye visor to good use, I picked specific parts of each of their bodies to put a round in to subdue them. With my sidearm still in hand, I quickly dispatched them by shooting off a guy's index finger, his buddy's middle finger, the barrel of the third's gun, and the fourth's cheek. All four of them dropped their weapons faster than you could say "self-defense" and the cheek of the final guy was left grazed.

As I had no time in sticking around to get caught by that one persistent cop, I booked it out of the coffee shop. I took the back door out of precaution. Making it outside, I found myself in a littered alleyway. A rush of stale whiskey, unprotected sex, and homeless peoples' diarrhea filled my nostrils just by taking two steps into the area. Ahh, LA at its finest! I commented internally. All it's missing is the Hollywood celebrity doing a coke deal!

At first, I stopped for a second to look around. I saw three exits; One just ahead provided I take a small left then a right, the second just to the left of me, and the third the opposite way. I sure as hell didn't wanna take a left since that was the same direction I fled from. And with knowing that was the same direction, I decided right the winner and took off from the crazy hipsters with guns. Besides, thanks to the gunfire, at least that cop would've had somebody else to go after.

Halfway across the alley, I managed to come across a BMX bicycle sitting against a brown, cracked wall. "Yoink!" I snatched it up figuring nobody was around to claim it, and hey, I get a new bike! And with my new bike, I was out of the alley in no time! Getting back to the streets, I looked both ways to see nobody was coming after me. In that, I claimed victory and proceeded my way out of the area, taking the sidewalks. Stopping at a crosswalk, I got a good last glimpse of that gentrified death trap they call a coffee shop. Chuckling devilishly, I could see the place swarming with cops and those damn hipsters. The laughing soon stopped as soon as I saw some of the hipsters get beaten to high hell by the LAPD's nightsticks as they were on the ground. I guess some things just don't change around here, unfortunately.

With widened eyes and a blank face, I quietly crossed the street the second the light turned green. Once I made it to the opposite sidewalk, I tried heading west into LA as fast as I could seeing how my target was eliminated, therefore I could claim my reward...

### 6-Shooter

"What's his name?" I asked the stranger as I took a sip of my beer.

The stranger slid a photo all the way to my side of the circular table. Looking down, I caught my first glimpse of a black-haired, Caucasian male with a green visor over his right eye.

"Hotshot." He revealed, adjusting his leather jacket, revealing text over a nuclear symbol on his T-shirt, "He's a hitman like you."

I cocked an eyebrow over notice of the Hildebrand Atomics logo on his shirt, "Sounds familiar." I commented, taking another sip as I also caught sight of the SR-25 marksman rifle in his hand.

A woman came by the table. Holding a circular tray contained only one beer which she set down in front of my latest employer. The stranger handed her several bucks, shooing her away like a rude fool. Couldn't say I was surprised. The Nukists aren't known for being professional. They couldn't even handle one maniac that casually walked into their hideout and killed a quarter of their number before leaving.

"Please, I prefer the term assassin."

"Whatever you say, assassin."

"So how much're you payin?" I asked with a crick of my neck.

"300 dollars." He told me.

"300 for another assassin like myself?" I slightly increased the grip I had on my drink, "Ain't that a bit low?"

"He's kind of an idiot." He said, "Hell, we knew who he was before he killed my people before he broke in thanks to what he tried to pull last night."

I briefly chuckled before mumbling to myself, "Oh, right. Needed Hardline to finish the job." My voice raised back to normal, "I'm still gonna need more than that. I didn't get where I am by being cheap."

The Nukist expressed frustration, "Shit! Erm...a thousand!"

"Still need to do better."

"Fine! Two thousand! And that's as far as I can go!"

I took one last look down at the photo. At first, I was really thinking about not taking the job having known this fellow assassin before, but having put more thought into it, I started to reconsider. He still owed me after costing us both, and some other kooky supervillains, a hefty pile of cash because of that screw up with that job a month or so back.

Just as he laid eyes on the picture as well, I focused mine on his gothy face.

"Tell you what." I grabbed the photo, "I'll take the two K. You won't see Hotshot ever again. I got a personal score to settle with him anyway."

Without saying more, I snatched the picture and got up from my chair. Because I already paid, I left the bar as quickly as I could. It was nine o'clock at night and Hotshot's apartment was on the other side of this traffic-ridden town. My fellow assassin was dumb enough to invite his own partners to his own home without the foresight of any one of us getting paid to take him out. But it wasn't any worry for me. The Nukist gangster wanted this guy dead and dead he was about to be. Checking my twin red revolvers, I hopped onto my bike and made way to his home.

Parking at an unlit area of the curb, I stepped out of my bike and walked all the way to his apartment. Taking two flights of stairs up and stopping at a corner, I was already two steps away from the door of his humble abode without facing any traps of some kind. Typical of him. Even when I first met him, he didn't seem like the planning type. No preparedness of anyone coming to his apartment looking to exact revenge for the death of one he killed in his last job.

Knowing his lack of wisdom, I gave three loud knocks on his door.

"Go away, I'm batin!" I heard the man himself yell loudly from the other side.

"Package delivery." I calmly told him.

"Nope! Sorry!" He said.

Looking both ways, I figured I'd say this just for the hell of it since it's Hotshot.

"Pizza delivery!"

I heard shuffling from the inside.

"Oh boy!" He shouted in excitement, "My pizza's here!"

I could hear the dumb son of a bitch run all the way to the door and open it up like he was one room away from Candyland. He presented himself with a welcoming smile and a scrunched-up wad of bills. Only then, he realized his pizza was not at arm's reach, only the end of my revolver.

"6-Shooter?" He called my name, "This your gig when you're not being a grouch?"

"I've always delivered, Hotshot."

"Pizza?"

" _No_!" I angrily reached for my revolver, "I'm talking about bullets!"

"Oh..." His distracted hide turned to the TV. Apparently montages of people getting hit in the groin on the Violence Network was more important to him than the presence of another contract killer like myself. My eyes rolled from the sight of him.

At that point, I considered "Fuck it" and took out one revolver, which at the time I thought just a few 50.cal rounds would've gotten my contract fulfilled. BOOM! One blast was enough to be as loud as an illegal firecracker.

However, it was only then I realized my judgement failed me. Hotshot may have acted like a hotshot, but at least he backed up his own arrogance. Just as I pulled the trigger, my enemy had already pulled out a Desert Eagle from a small table sitting by his chair. And thanks to his eye visor he still had on at the time, he was able to target the barrel of my gun in a nanosecond, and fire. Facing each other with hot fury, the two 50.cal bullets clashed together with extreme prejudice. In the heat of the moment, I felt the need to fire again, that time from the other revolver.

Damnit, I murmured in my own head as the next rounds scrunched up against one other. Hotshot took another ahem...shot at me. The bastard was lucky enough to hit a gunslinger like myself dead center in my right shoulder. The deep impact, and pain, forced me to drop one of my revolvers. This gave Hotshot the chance to snatch up his SR-25 from the other table next to his chair and go for the window behind him and jump out without opening it up.

"Fuck!" I yelled from the sting of pain that came from my penetrated shoulder.

No, not yet. Despite what happened to me, I wasn't gonna let that jackass get away with shooting me in the shoulder. As I was halfway into getting fully back up, I took back the revolver I dropped with my right hand. I soon jogged over to the broken window he left the apartment through. I managed to catch sight of Hotshot running off into the beach, leaving footprints on the sand I could've easily tracked him down with.

Holstering both guns, I followed suit the same way he left. Thankfully, I landed on my boots so there was no need to scream like a child seeing his mother die. With gritted teeth nobody could see thanks to my red, full-faced helmet, I pursued Hotshot through the footprints he kept leaving behind with each second. As I was just a few feet away from my fleeing target, I raised my weapon at his back. At that point, I didn't give a damn about getting an accurate shot. Only a fool thinks he can shoot me and disappear into the night.

Just as I had my finger on the trigger, "FREEZE!" Yelled a man to my right. I turned my head to see who the hell shouted at me. Shit, I panicked to myself, the lawmen. Just my fucking luck. I turned back to Hotshot, who was still pussying away from me, then the cops, which were only two fools thinking they could whip a gunslinger like me into submission. I had to decide: Go after the guy who had the gall to put a hole in me or prevent myself from setting foot in some dirty prison filled with fine folks looking to catch you in the right time in the shower.

"To hell with this." I said, taking the crosshairs away from Hotshot and to the police as I started running toward them.

Even as they had their guns drawn on me, I still pulled the trigger. With one loud boom, came a round dead center of a fat cop's chest. His plump body plopped on the sand in an instant, making the biggest sand angel in America. As I continued getting close to him, I aimed right at the next officer, I fired my fourth round into his eye. Once those two pigs were dealt with, I took to the concrete to pursue Hotshot. However, by the time my eyes shifted focus back on the beach, I couldn't find him anywhere, not even with the parcel of sunlight still present at the time of the evening.

"You gotta be kidding me." I lamented his disappearance at the worst possible moment.

Revolver still in hand, I quickly put it away so my fists could clench together. I was so fucking close, my teeth gritted. How the hell does Hotshot of all people managed to get away from both me and the damn lawmen!? He's up there on being the biggest loose cannon I've ever seen! The absolute biggest was that deluded lunatic in that orange suit and that bastard still owed me three high-paying jobs because of his antics alone! Rage flushed through my veins. My mind went off on a whole different tangent, one that I could not control. The job may have payed shit, but it would've gotten rid of a thorn on my side.

And just my fucking luck. Of course, they wouldn't be the only guys percolating on the beach with a donut. Having came my way were several more cop cars, three just ahead of me and two on the back. With both paths on the walkway covered, I looked down at my guns, checking as quick as I could for how much ammo I must've had left. It wasn't like I had time to reload anyway.

The cops got out of their cars. Cocking both guns, I aimed them at two random uniforms. BLA-BLAM! Both went down right as they opened fire. One of their bullets was so close to getting me, I could feel its wind whoosh past my head as it passed by for a quick hello. However, one of them managed to get me right in the stomach. But I was still able to stand and aim at the one cop who shot me, putting him down like the pig he was. For one quick second, I aimed one revolver at one cop ahead and one behind me, firing, and killing, both simultaneously. I soon turned around to give more of the guys behind me some deserved pain. I pointed one gun at another of the officers in the opposite direction and blasted him away.

Bringing my other revolver the other way, I then had both ready to kills the cops on the other direction. As I raised them at the annoying pigs, CLICK!

"Aw, fuck." I murmured to myself as I realized I was out of ammo, and at the worst possible time as well. And the pigs fucking knew it. Unleashing all their lead-filled might, every cop that was still alive blasted away with their crappy 92FSs, hitting me at all sides; Stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, even one in the knee. It was finally then I fell flat on my ass on the concrete, and as my head hit the ground, my helmet split itself in two, revealing the handsome devil I was to the remaining authorities.

Even with all the rounds they put in me, some part of me still had the will to kill. With one arm, I tried to lift myself off the ground. But that was when they swarmed my sorry ass. One guy was cocky enough to get up, close, and personal and put his gun at my face.

Oh, you'll wish you didn't do that. I internally taunted. With my hand still on my gun, I slowly attempted to tighten my grip on the red handle. As soon as I put my index finger onto the trigger, the cop looked down on my arm.

"What the!?" He panicked.

With all my might, I took the revolver I was trying to grab and lifted it up to his head. But before I did anything, I put a nice round of snot in his face just to give small "Fuck you" before giving him an even bigger "Fuck you".

As both our guns were pointed at one another, I said to him with gritted teeth, "See you in Hell."

BOOM!

Nobody's coming out of that looking pretty.

THE END

