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Post By ag Thu Mar 09, 2006 at 11:00:50 am EST |
Subject Uh oh. He's involved. Originally *Subjected To Factory Recall* |
In Reply To killer shrike Tue Mar 07, 2006 at 08:22:27 am EST |
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| > > > > > > “Honor is a samurai’s most important possession,” Toshiro Makazawai lectured the guest to his dojo. The two of them were walking among the grove of trees that surrounded it, “Without it, he is nothing.” > > > The man made a dismissive noise and brushed an errant cherry blossom petal from the brim of his watch cap, “That’s horse pucky. Samurais are supposed to be warriors. There’s no honor in war. Believe me, I know.” > > The Brass Bushi grinned in agreement, “Fair enough. But what matters is the perception of honor.” > > “’Cause without that, a samurai don’t get paid.” > > “You understand perfectly, my friend. Chiaki Bushido has not allowed me the opportunity to reclaim my “honor” through fair combat, hence our current state of affairs.” > > The big man in the navy blue pea coat lost some of his growing respect for his host when he used the word ‘hence,’ but the reality was he needed him. The terms of the covenant were quite specific, “She won’t fight you because of your bum ticker, and even if she did fight you she wouldn’t kill you, ‘cause she’s one of those namby pamby warrior broads that owns a sword but seems to think it’s for decoration rather than you know, stabbing folks.” > > “Once Chiaki’s dead her katana will be yours to do with as you please,” Toshiro halted his tread and gazed out past his estate’s own grounds to look at his neighbor: a foreboding stone stronghold that jutted out of the cliff face of Spider Skull Island, “You will be able to kill her, won’t you, Mr. Maddicks? After all, my honor demands it.” > > > > Jenni Wooster eyeballed the cotton-polyester blend tee shirt that was stretched over the traditional uniform of an agent of the world’s foremost terrorist group, “ HERPES: The Disease and the Cure,” she read the slogan emblazoned across it. > > Different agents wore different shirts with different logos. Hail HERPES!, Kill All Heroes! (complete with caricature of a rampaging Drednot), Cannon Fodder and a Che Guevera inspired portrait of Count Wolfgang Fokker were three of the more clever, which spoke volumes. In addition to the shirts HERPES soldiers wore trucker hats, bandanas, sweat pants, and other accoutrements. > > “You… want me… to model that stuff?” Jenni asked Greta Fokker somewhat incredulously. > > “Ja, our market research indicates you vould appeal to the correct demographics our fashion line is attempting to cater to: girls 12-17 and men aged 18 to 34,” Madame HERPES stated. > > “We also hope that you could use your influence to get your family’s store to carry our clothing,” Hans Fokker said, “An exclusive contract.” > > “I don’t know…. This seems like something you would buy at Hot Topic than at Wooster’s. Besides, my family doesn’t really run the company anymore, so we don’t get much say in what’s going on.” > > “I’m sure you could persuade the board of directors if you were so inclined,” Greta said unctuously as she took one of the HERPES berets and fitted it atop Jenni’s head. > > The young heiress chewed at her hair absently as she stared at her reflection in the empty silver fruit platter on the breakfast table. The hat did have a jaunty look, but still…. > > “Well, you’d have to change all the anti-hero slogans. I can’t model that stuff in, um, good conscience.” > > “No!” Hans objected, “Ah, our researchers say that the message of our brand will sell very well with the rebellious and disaffected youth of your country. It is key to our brand appeal.” > > “Oh,” Jenni Wooster reluctantly took the beret off, “I guess that’s the deal breaker then. No way I can be associated with something that says bad things about superheroes.” > > Madame HERPES shared a look with her brother. > > “There is a vay,” she said to their captive with some menace, “Plan B.” > > More later. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > |
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