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The Man Without Sense
by The Edwardian [Dateline] Before you is an aerial view of the city of Supermegatopia, largest city on the continent of Kwijybo. You may wonder at its size, but the promulgated "Kiwi Capital of the World" can be anything but small. Eighty percent of all industry in Supermegatopia is geared to the growth, cultivation, farming, procuring, transport, processing, distribution, and consumption of the sweet green fruit. Amazing as it may seem, annual yields of the fuzzy thing always outnumbers anything else combined in Supermegatopia (people, cars, paper clips, leaves on inner-city trees, etc.) It goes without saying, the kiwi in Supermegatopia is "King". The second major industry in SMT (short for SuperMegaTopia) is tourism, with the main draw being... You guessed it! The kiwi. At any time of the day, and many parts of the night, you can see clumps of the outsiders gawking, pointing, and snapping pictures of such sites as: the vast Northend industrio-complex (geared to all aspects of kiwi processing), the 'Magnus Opi Kiwi' (the giant, gold-leafed kiwi statue in the central Galleria, the last work by SMT-born artist Olaf Gelulencak), The towering, Q-tip shaped 'spike' of Supermegatopian Labs ("Tampering in God's Domain since 1927" or "Trespassing on God's Domain at least once a day...", thrusting out of the heart of SMT, making the city's skyline unmistakable the world over), or the Offenders Mansion (the home and headquarters for one of the primary groups of superpowered 'protectors' for Supermegatopia). Which leads us to another tourist draw and oddity that sets SMT apart: the largest population of augments and aliens in the world... The city has them literally 'coming out of the woodwork'! You can't swing a kiwi on a string without at least hitting one! [Author's note: "Augment" as a noun, is a term used to denote any number of personages 'gifted' with powers above the normal ken, using said powers for the betterment of his/her/its fellows, or self-aggrandizement; wealthy but 'unpowered' eccentrics (sic. crazies, psychos) with an overwhelming urge to wear spandex and run around using 'toys' to create massive property damage in pursuit of some revenge-orientated goal; or those that cannot quite be labeled as "normal" due to some hellaciously freakish experiment, or an outlandish, wildly-coincidental accident. "Alien" as a noun, is a term used to label an individual or groups whose point of origin is extraterrestrial (ex. Gorkorrian Brood scout, Saturnians, Jerry Springer) or, intraterrestrial (ex. Lava mites, Mole midgets, Jerry Springer) or, extradimensional (ex. Asgardians, 10-D Pod Incursions, Jerry Springer{?}).] Many theories have been put forth and bandied about, in an attempt to explain the unprecedented population of such individuals in SMT. Everything from "something in the water", to "ethereal convergence of earthly Ley Lines that produce an inordinate amount of positive/negative charged aural positrons that in turn cause blah blah blah", and so forth. Personally, I think it's the kiwis... Come on! Let's face it, how can you possibly resist squeezing those ripe, luscious globes between your... Ahem! cough! WHEEZE! Sorry, got carried away there... However, there is one place in SMT that tourists aren't found (unless they are the dumb ones), and even the mightiest of the city's augments give it some thought before venturing there. Once known as "Heartferd Hills" in SMT's heyday, the district is now known lovingly to its denizens as "Cankers Bottom". Made up of projects, slums, pawn shops, bars, strip joints, adult bookshops/theaters, convenience stores, coffee houses, and abodes of 'ill repute', Cankers Bottom makes up SMT's entire crime rate, while the rest of the city is virtually crime free (give you three guesses as to why that is...). On this typical weekend evening, allow me to direct your attention to a particular alley in the center of this district. It is your standard alley between two condemned tenement buildings, strewn with small to bulky trash, and lit with very minimal lighting. Past the scrawny cat feasting on an unfortunate rat, and a cardboard box filled with Jerry Springer "Uncut & Uncensored" tapes... heywaitaminute... Who would throw these out?! scuffle, rummage, clack This is the one with the Lesbian Nazi Penguin Lovers (a classic!), crunch, clatter and here's the one of She-Male demolishing the studio after one of Jerry's off-color hermaphrodite jokes... Oops! Sorry, got carried away again... The alley makes a dogleg to the left, with the back of a closed pawn shop creating a conveniently private cul-de-sac. Listening, one can denote the sound of struggle in this back alley, with a single, occasionally-flickering florescent light casting feeble images of two bodies, the smaller definitely losing to the larger in a wrestling shadowplay. A clear view is blocked, until one maneuvers around a stack of packing crates... A young female, dressed with the obvious intent of bar-hopping (black pumps, dark hose, hint of garters at the edge of a leather mini-skirt, white frilly blouse translucently hiding a dark brassier), is having trouble breathing past a meaty hand clasped about her mouth. You would think that she would struggle more valiantly, her hands gripping the arm attached to aforementioned 'meaty hand', but then you realize that the sibling to the 'meaty hand' is pressing a wickedly sharp knife to the side of her throat. Her assailant, holding the young woman from behind (the owner of the said 'meaty hands'), is your typical leather-jacket, blue-jean wearing tough. Aroused chuckle "Now, bitch! You're going to show me a good time..." "Mmppht!" "I don't want no yelling from you, if'n you know what's good for you", The thug shifts his knife slightly, drawing a droplet of blood, and receiving a stiffened jerk and a stifled eek of pain from the young girl. "You understand me, chippie?" The female hastily nods, and the tough slowly removes his hand from her mouth, ready to act at the first sign of resistance. The girl gasps, pulling in much needed draughts of air. "Good, lady, good.... Just keep your cool... We're just going to have a little fun..." The now free hand moves down to take a savage hold of an ample left breast. "Nnt!", the young female bites her lip to keep from screaming. Suddenly, from out of the darkness above, "HEY! You bad-nasty guy! You'a let girlie go!" Both the hood and girl freeze, as a solitary figure leaps from a tenement fire escape, and lands in the light with cat-like agility. What confronts the pair is a adult male barely out of his teens, just above 5 foot in height, dressed in black spandex shorts; black T-shirt with large, white Kanji stenciled in front; Day-Glo green Judo gi top and belt; with a strip of similarly colored cloth with eye-holes tied across his face. "Who... Just who the f*ck are you, man?!?", blusters the tough. "OoAh! You'a no use dirty words, you nasty-jerk guy! You'sa do as I say, or'a face the many furious fisties of... CHAUPU SAKI!!!" This declaration is followed by a series of rapid chopping and kicking motions by the costumed man, accompanied by exclaimed "yah-ya-yahha-yah-ya!" When the display ceases, both the punk and the young female speak in unison, "Chop Socky?" "No, no No!!! You'a say 'CHAUPU SAKI'! Again in unison, with deepening confusion, "Chap Sacky?" "No! No! No! 'Chaa-puu Saa-Kee'! 'Chapuu Saaki'... Aahhh! Nevermind!" Chaupu Saki waves his hand in frustration, "Now, you'a lissen. You'a let girl-child go, you stupid-dumb guy! You'a no wanna mess with me! I'a hurt you up much-big-time!" This is again followed by a flurry of chops, interspersed with finger jabs and mock uppercuts, "Aaowho-whoa-woo-whah!" Frustration has gotten the better of the tough, "Sh*t! I haven't got time for this crap!" Removing his hand from the girl's breast, the thug grabs a hold of her hair, and throws her to the ground with a quick jerk. "Ohh!", is her startled cry as she hits the pavement. Knife still in 'meaty' hand, the tough menacingly converges on Chaupu Saki, "You better be packin' some serious firepower, because I'm going to dish out some pretty God-damn serious sh*t myself..." Chaupu Saki prepares himself for the confrontation by beginning the martial technique he calls "Mantis rapidly catches fat aphid". The form is showy, flashy, with a lot of circular arm movements, and butterfly footwork. Unfortunately, the technique does not have an adequate defense against such ancient and time-honored maneuvers like "Swift knife to gut" "Uuhgglle!" Gripping his knife wound, Chaupu Saki completes "Mantis rapidly catches fat aphid" by falling to the ground. Again, it is unfortunate that the form provides no ground defense either, for venerable attacks like "Viscous kick to ribs" whumpf-Crack! "squeak!" Or "Brutal stomp to face" Crunch! "MMmnn*!" The goon takes ragged breaths in through his nose, more from the adrenal rush than from any exertion, watching a dark pool slowly widen beneath the insensate body of Chaupu Saki. When his breathing slows, the tough finally remembers his previous quarry, and turns back to where he had thrown the her to the ground. Luckily, the young girl had a goodly amount of common sense, and during the fracas, had quickly vacated the premises. "Oh Sh*t! F*CK! Crap!", the punk screams in anger, shaking his stained knife, turning this way and that in search of something to vent his further frustration. His eyes alight on the prone body of Chaupu Saki, and he quickly commences to execute the "Viscious kick to ribs" technique against it repeatedly. whud-whud-whud "Sh*t! Crap! F*ck!! Stupid, f*cking costumed freak!" whud-whud "Had to stick your stupid ass nose in, didn't you!" whud "Huff! Huff! Huff! MotherF*cker!" Whack! In an agitated state, the tough cleans his blade on a piece of paper trash, puts it back in its sheath clipped beneath his leather jacket, and stomps out of the alley with 'meaty' hands thrust into his pockets. "(Sh*t!)", thinks the thug, "(What am I going to do now? That fight took it all outta me... I just don't feel like finding another, after losing that chippie... Hhmn... Maybe I could go to 'The Pink Kiwi'... Yeah! That's the ticket! Marci always has something for me when she gets off at 2. God! What a bod she has! ...But she don't like it, me being a hoodlum an' all... Maybe if I turn legit or sumthin', she might go easier for me...)" Much as you might like to continue with the 'stream of consciousness' from the punk, our attention should turn back to the cul-de-sac alley, and the body of our poor hero, Chaupu Saki. Yeah, I know. Your shaking your head at the horrible waste. A bright, young hero snuffed out at the very beginning of his career... Oh, the Humanity! ...Hhmn... Wasn't there a blood pool forming the last time we saw Chaupu Saki's body... Where'd it go?... The lamented hero, only trying to do a good turn, maliciously struck down at the start of his promising career... "cough! hack! cough!" Just trying to prevent harm from befalling a innocent, our hero should be memorialized for giving his life to this one unselfish act... "owwie, ouch, oooh, SSsss..." Aw, to hell with it! Chaupu Saki rolls onto his back with a groan. Then with many sympathetic sounds of pain, works his way up to a sitting position, massaging his once smashed snout, and wiping away crusted blood. "Oh shoot-crap!", Chaupu Saki exclaims, as he holds open a large rent in his black T-shirt, stained with dried blood, "Now I hav'a to go an' change shirts, dammit!" After gingerly standing up, Chaupu Saki, holding an arm against his still sensitive side, walks shakily back into the night... [The next afternoon] Dao Shi Gung Jewelry is not located in the best of all places, being so close to the border of Cankers Bottom. However, the rent for the strip-mall partition was cheap, and that was all that mattered. Old Man Gung should have known something was up when a 'Brick Wall that Walks', wearing an overcoat and wide-brimmed hat, sauntered into his little jewelry shop. With a quick flip, the overcoat and hat were stripped off to reveal: Brute Force! "Alright! Nobody move!" Old Man Gung started edging for his nun-chaku, while his daughter surreptitiously bent to retrieve a Tai Chi sword, and an older cousin started for the alarm button hidden under the counter, next to a pair of Escrima sticks. "I said... Nobody move! Do as I say, or else...", stated Brute Force, before holding up one of his large hands, 'mew meow', "...or else, the kittens get crushed!" Old Man Gung, his daughter, and cousin froze. Surrounded by Brute Force's large hand, a pair of kittens (one tortoise-shell, the other a grey tabby) sat, licking at each other, and softly mewling. 'meow merf mew puurrr' "Okay, Okay!", said Old Man Gung, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, "Whatever you want! Just don't hurt the kittens..." "Thought so...", chuckled Brute Force, "Now, first..." Before BF could finish the sentence, the dangling door chime rings as the store's door opens, and a young male carrying Styrofoam food cartons, and white paper boxes with handles, hurriedly walks in. "Ho-kay, who order the Kung Pao beef, the General Tso's chicken, an' the special order of 'shrimp with water chestnuts in garlic sauce'?..." The youth stops dead, when he looks up to confront the fiercest glare from Brute Force. "Beat it, kid!" The young boy only stands and stares, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I said... SCRAM!", yells Brute Force. This galvanizes the youth into action, at which he drops his packages, turns tail, and sprints out the door to the clashing of the door's chime. "Now, where was I...", begins Brute Force, as the store begins to fill with the aroma of spilt Chinese food. Unfortunately, Old Man Gung's mind is elsewhere, "Mayli! 'Shrimp with water chestnuts in garlic sauce'!? How could you!?! You know all those ingredients only have Yin, and you must build your Yang chi... How are you ever going to master our family's most complicated techniques, if you do not build your Yang?!" Brute Force tries to cut in, "Umm... say..." "I know, Father...", simpered Mayli, her eyes downcast, "but sometimes I just cannot help myself, the cravings become too much!" Mayli chokes back a sob, "I am too weak, Father! I am not worthy to learn our family's ancestral art..." "Uh, excuse me, but...", BF tries to get their attention by waving his free hand, and pointing at the kittens. Gung's cousin pipes in, "Saa, Cousin! You are being too hard on the girl! 'Everything is okay if it is done in moderation'... I have always liked a little hot mustard and curry powder with my General Tso's chicken, but they do not adversely affect my building of Yin force, just because they are Yang..." "HEY!!! If you remember, I was trying to rob this store!", Brute Force finally managed to cut in, shaking the kittens in his large fist. 'merk merft' "Oh! So sorry, please continue...", answers Old Man Gung, with a slight bow. "That's better! Now, as I was saying...", BF continues, but doesn't get very far. The front door slams open, knocking the door chime completely off with a Chi-thunk! In leaps our hero, Chaupu Saki, with a hugely volumed, "AH-HA!!!" Chaupu Saki is wearing the same costume as before (with a fresh T-shirt), that looks curiously disheveled, as though it was hastily put on behind a strip mall dumpster... "Ho-Kay! Mr. big-statue guy, you'a make no fast moves! You'a now face... CHAUPU SAKI!!! Master of super-deadly martial arts style, Soo Low Hung Gar!" "Aawoo-ah!" swish-swish "woo-oo*!" swishity-swish-snap "yaaaa-Hai-Yah!" swoomp-stomp "woooo...." Everyone in the store stood watching Chaupu Saki's fantastic display of flashy martial art maneuvers; the Gungs with looks of pained disbelief, and Brute Force with a slight look of abject fear, quickly hidden. The kittens just purred. 'purrr' 'Hey, you...", BF was about to start in with a few of his choice abrasive remarks, but suddenly stopped, remembering his confrontation with Zippy the Wonder Sloth. Covering his medical cost from that debacle was one of the reasons for this heist. That, and the good chance of not bumping into Zippy again, considering the jewelry store's location... "You'a no'a talk, 'Wall that Walks'! You'a jus do as I say! Set the kitty-cats on the floor, nice an' slow, an' I will not hav' to hurt you up, real-big-time!", said Chaupu Saki, as he moved into closer range of Brute Force, using a martial Cat Step. "Take it easy, little green buddy... I'm doing it...", said Brute Force. If there was one thing that the altercation with Zippy taught BF, it was to never again underestimate opponents. Brute Force slowly lowered the kittens to the floor. 'myah meow' However, BF took the opportunity that the movement provided him, by inconspicuously raising his other hand, and taking hold of one of the two baseball bats slung on his bandoleers. "Verri good, big-bad guy!", chirped Chaupu Saki, "Now we'a gonna...*" Chaupu Saki never got a chance to finish the sentence. Just after he leaned back up, Brute Force whipped one of his bats from its sheath as quickly as he was able, and brought it down on Chaupu Saki's head with all his might. whoosh...whump-Crack! "Bollocks!", yelled BF, "That was my best Slugger! Now look what you done to it, you son of a... broke it clean in half!!!" Chaupu Saki did not respond. The Day-Glo green clad hero stood absolutely stock still, standing in the modified Cat Stance, his arms in a martial chop posture. A trickle of blood formed at the top of Chaupu Saki's widow's peak, ran down beneath his mask, and started working its way to the left side of his snout. As soon as the trickle reached his lip, Chaupu Saki's eyes slid right up into his head, and his body crumpled bonelessly to the floor. Clump! Tossing the broken bat behind him, and dusting his hands, Brute Force turned back, "Now, where was I... Hey!" Gung's daughter was hugging and petting the tortoise-shell kitten, while the Old Man and his cousin were playfully taunting the grey tabby on the glass countertop, with a piece of paper on a string, tied to an Escrima stick. 'ggrr* myah' "You give those kittens back right...", Brute Force stopped as a Tai Chi sword, a rapidly twirling nun-chaku, and another Escrima stick miraculously appeared. Old Man Gung's nun-chaku whizzed to a stop, "These kittens are now under Gung Family protection. Test that if you like, but I will guarantee that you will not like the outcome..." Brute Force looked to each face, and only saw grim determination on each. "Besides", ominously continued Old Man Gung, "my cousin has already activated the silent alarm...", and on cue, distant sirens could be heard. "Bollocks! Bugger! Blast!", ranted BF, shaking his fist, as he stumbled over the unmoving body of Chaupu Saki, heading for the door, "You haven't seen the last of me..." Grabbing up his trench and hat, he was soon out the door. Hastily putting on the trenchcoat as he walked quickly away from the store, Brute Force was in a quandary. "(Damn and Blast! That 'job' was suppose to cover for hospital costs... Now what am I going to tell Debbie Ann... I can't keep mooching off of her, it ain't right! Hhmn... What about that brother of hers, the one with the security company... He's always asking me to come onboard. It's not alot of money, but it just could cover the bills... Until I get back on my feet... Yeah...)" *** "Groan!" "He is coming around, Father!", Chaupu Saki felt the press of a moist, warm cloth to his forehead. "Amazing! I could have sworn his head was completely staved in, and he was not breathing before..." Chaupu Saki opened his eyes. Mayli Gung was on one side, kneeled down with a concerned look on her face, holding the cloth. Old Man Gung was standing on the other side, with a confused and petulant look on his face. The cousin was sweeping up the debris of dropped Chinese food. Chaupu Saki scampered up, pushing the warm compress away. "You should not move so fast!", chided Mayli, "You have had a serious blow to the head..." "So, what is this style you claim, Soo Low Hung Gar!? I have never heard of such a silly, ridiculous name in my life! And what was that ludicrous display of movie-kung fu all about!?!", interrogated Old Man Gung. "Uum...", Chaupu Saki quickly backed away, before gently bumping into the cousin. "So young one... Will we get a refund?", smiled the cousin. "Um... I must go!", and Chaupu Saki quickly retreated from the store. "Wait, you are still hurt!", Mayli started to go after him, before being stopped by a hand at her elbow. Old Man Gung shook his head, when Mayli turned to look at him. "But Father, he needs help... We could teach him..." "Ha! Teach him?! Daughter, I have trouble enough teaching you! To also have to suffer that fool?! No way! Now come help your uncle clean up the store...", Gung turned away. Mayli looked longingly out the store door for a few moments, before turning to go in search of another broom... [That evening] You may not believe it, but a portion of Cankers Bottom does unofficially extend into the SMT Harbor District (there's business to be done in service industries for lonely sailors just off ship, and dock men). However, we are not interested in the Red-Light district at the moment (much to your disappointment, I am sure...), but are interested in the warehouses that back the docks, for the holding of material to be imported/exported to/from SMT. One in particular, Bay 47, looks like all the others in the row, but its special in that it is owned by the X-Landd, Ltd. Corporation. However, what you don't know is that this corporation is simply a front for the malevolent Dr. Ghoti, and the warehouse in question holds one of his many working projects. (Dr. Ghoti learned early on not to put all his 'eggs in one basket', and depend on one project to succeed in his new career as a mad, evil scientist bent on landdweller doom. So he maintains several nefarious plots at once, and springs them when they mature, or when he can spring himself from any new incarceration that he has incurred since his capture). Behind Bay 47, two black vans recklessly pull up with a screech of their tires. The backs pop open to disgorge several males in inky black guises, carrying high caliber weaponry: The Supermegatopian Terrorists! Being as quiet as a large group of people carrying large amounts of artillery can, the Terrorists move down the side of warehouse Bay 47, until they come to a side door with a sophisticated card reader, and punchpad lock. One of them kneels before the lock, surrounded by his fellows, and removes a magnetic-strip card attached by several wires to what looks to be a calculator. Inserting the card, the Terrorist presses a button on the 'calculator', on which a tiny LED screen begins to glow green. "Estimated time to lock breech?", states one of the standing Terrorists, one with an obvious air of authority. "Well within schedule, Leader. No more that 15 seconds...", murmurs the hacker. I know what you might be wondering, 'Why would a group of SMT Terrorists be trying to break into one of Dr. Ghoti's labs? Isn't he a bad guy too?' Well, I could quote, "There is no honor among thieves", and leave it at that... Though I am sure that would be a wholly unsatisfying answer, and you would just spit it right back in my face... Well, when contracts are low to non-existent, the SMT Terrorists still need funds for equipment, recruitment, rent, and medical coverage. Outright crime is risky at best, unless backed by a third party, but crimes against other evil-doers are more likely not to be interrupted by the good-guys, and you can always 'cover-your-ass' by blaming the theft on the good-guys anyway... Specifically, times have been rough for the Terrorists, and interested backers had been scarce as of late, so the SMT Terrorists are breaking into a known Dr. Ghoti lab for anything that can be sold on the Black Market of Mad Scientist Second-Hand Equipment. "Almost there...", states the hacker. "Hoo! Haa! Hee!" swoosh-Crunch! "Ouch!" The SMT Terrorists jerk as one and bristle with deadly looking weaponry, as a lone figure leaps from a warehouse roof, to land with not a great deal of agility in the side alley of Bay 47. Perplexed, the SMT Terrorists stare. "HA-Ha! (ouch!) You'a bunch o' guys up to no-goody-two-shoes! Fear me, for I am lone master of Soo Low Hung Gar!" The SMT Terrorists glanced at one another, as the bright green dressed man gesticulates in what appears to be some Drunken form of a martial arts style. "Whoop-whoop!" swoosh-swish "Aawhol-whik-Wha!" swomp-trip-stumble-stomp-swishity-swat "Whoo-woooo..." swish-snap! Chaupu Saki finished his technique, 'Golden Monkey too drunk to grab crotch', by flowing into a solid Horse Stance, and displaying several silver darts with red tassels, in his left hand. "You'a big-nasty guns mean nothing to Chaupu Saki! With my Soo Low Hung Gar darts, I'a disarm you all split-lickity-time!!!", with which Chaupu Saki reaches for his first dart. *phut*-pock! Let's face it... Soo Low Hung Gar is not even a true martial arts style... It is just a conglomeration of the flashiest moves in the numerous Chinese Kung-Fu flicks that our hero has seen over his lifetime. Given that, this 'so-called' style would be useless to Chaupu Saki in the proper technique of throwing the Chinese dart. I'd be amazed if he actually managed to hit any of the SMT Terrorists with one... Aside from that, Soo Low Hung Gar wasn't even helpful to Chaupu Saki when that Terrorist pulled his silenced automatic handgun, and shot our green-clad hero right between the eyes... "You hit him?! You actually managed to hit him!?!", stammered an incredulous SMT Terrorist Leader, "...nice shot by the way, but...", . "Well... Yeah!", stated the shootist, matter-of-factly, "Ferret Man usually comes out blazing, and half of us are down before we can even raise our weapons... And the other heroes just leap into the fray without any warning. We usually have no time to aim, unlike with this dork..." Chaupu Saki tottered in the same position as before, his eyes crossed, his mouth hanging open and tongue lolling. A perfectly perforated hole in his forehead gently oozed blood. "Well, then", said the SMT Terrorist Leader cheerily, "Lock-n-load, gentlemen..." After a slight clatter of safeties being switched off, autos selected to 'Full', and chambers being loaded, there was a louder and longer clatter of rapid-fire. Chaupu Saki didn't remain standing for very long, being chopped, ground, and pureed by a hail of high-velocity, steel-jacketed lead. When the magazines had been emptied, all the Terrorists professionally pulled the empty, pocketed it, and locked in a fresh magazine. "Ah... That was refreshing...", stated the Leader breathily, "So, how far off schedule are we with the appearance of that masked geek?..." "Umn... 13.2 seconds, Leader", said the hacker, holding open the side entrance door. "Whup! That throws off our time tables completely! Sorry, gentlemen, that's an Abort! Back to the vans! Double-time!" "Awww!", said the group in unison, hanging their heads. "But Leader...", started the hacker, "The equipment, and I have the door open..." "Sorry, son... We're professionals, and there was only 10 seconds of variance in the time tables. So, according to the rules, I have to call an abort... Dem's the breaks..." The hacker hung his head, and closed the side door, before trotting along with the rest of the Terrorists back to their vans. After the vans peel away, we turn our attention back down the side alley. I know some of you in the audience are squeamish, but try and hold your dinner down, because this is an interesting part. Viewing the 'hamburger' of Chaupu Saki's body, you can almost place bets that he is really dead this time. Until you start to see the pool of his blood start to retract back into his body. Bullet holes start to shrink, and actually force lodged bullets out to fall to the ground with a soft tink. Finally... "Cough!" tink-tinkle-tink "Gargle-choke-cough!" tinkidy-tink-tock "spit!" tink "OoAawww! Sh*t! Feel like I roll in ant bed!" Sitting up like an old man, Chaupu Saki takes account of his attire, "Oh-no! I practically naked! Look at all the holes!" Getting shakily to his feet, "I really need to fin' another use for my power... Thi' is gettin' way too rough on me, and my clothes... Crap!" Once again, Chaupu Saki hobbles back into the night... In case any of you were wondering... The SMT Terrorist had to go on hiatus, since funds were seriously low. This period marked a huge lull time in the activities of the SMT Terrorists (so much so, that SMT's heroes and heroines began to wonder as to their supposed disappearance). As for Dr. Ghoti's project lab... Bay 47 housed the project named 'Solar Screen of Landdweller Doom", which would have been a series of robotic rockets that would have constructed a huge polymer screen to block out the sun, and plunge whole continents into a perpetual darkness. Absorbed solar radiation would have been used as a very effective point defense weapon to melt any approaching objects to the screen, and once the screen had absorbed a certain amount of radiation, then portions of the globe could be seared and blasted from orbit... Mwa-mwhaha-Mmwhaha(evil, cackling laughter)... Ahem! Sorry, carried away again... However, when Dr. Ghoti finally managed to escape (again!) and on discovering Bay 47's security breach, he remotely ordered the project's computer to destroy all equipment (leaving itself for last), and immediately put the warehouse up for sale due to a X-Landd, Ltd. bankruptcy... Fini, for now... (Author's note - If this little tale is well received, there just might be an 'Origin of Chaupu Saki' in the making... Now wouldn't that put your waders in a kink...) (Author's caveat - This story does not reflect continuity in the true SMT Universe, by The Brothers Grinn. Any liberties taken by the Author of this story about SMT and its environs are purely his own...)
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