The reality the Jones Brothers sent me to is a mirror image of my old one. Man evolved from apes, there was an American Revolution, Elvis recorded In the Ghetto, etc.
But there are distortions, especially in the super humans. They are sort of like the ones I left behind, but not quite. It’s as if someone left them in the oven too long. Or not long enough. Bottom line: I don’t expect too much trouble from them.
My big problem now is making contacts. Back home everybody knew Killer Shrike-
Here though, they probably think I’m just another hood in a cool costume. So the plan is to do something big to get noticed by all the right people. An announcement that Shrike the Impaler’s arrived in Paradopolis. And I’ve found something.
On this world there is a huge oil company called Zoxxon. Once upon a time I worked for an outfit with a very similar name. They were bad news, and based on what I’ve read in the papers, these guys are too. In fact there is an ADA (Assistant District Attorney) making a lot of noise about convening a grand jury to indict several Zoxxon executives for who knows what, really.
My idea is to fly over to the Paradopolis Courthouse and kill the ADA when he leaves the building for one of his daily press conferences on the steps. Then I fly to the Zoxxon offices (takes only seven minutes at top speed), go to the roof, and have the security guys bring me to whichever suit there is involved in wet work. After I say something cool like, “Well, sir, did I pass the audition?” they’ll hire me on the spot. Trust me: I’ve seen it work a dozen times.
Later, I’m waiting in my hiding place for the big-mouthed lawyer to trot down the steps and make his spiel. There’s some security, but it won’t be enough to stop me from dive bombing the target and disemboweling him. Then it’s off to Zoxxon to see what kind of stock options I’ll get.
There’s a commotion below. A red blur zips up to the lawyer and shoots him point blank several times with what looks and sounds like a Heckler and Koch USP Expert. Then the blur takes off around the back of the building. I take off after it.
Why? Besides the fact this guy stole my idea and should pay for it? Well, the H+K Expert is a nice piece. I was a bit of a collector back home, and it’ll be the first addition to my new one here.
Also, when Speedy whacked the lawyer he held the gun in that stupid sideways Jon Woo grip, which means this guy is an obvious poseur and needs his a** kicked. I’m volunteering.
Blur Boy is way faster than me, but from my vantage point I can follow the trail of knocked over pedestrians and near accidents he left behind. Finally I see him behind a sporting goods store, loading his sorry self into a van.
I don’t even give Speedy a chance to bolt. Swooping down, I level him with twin blasts from my shock gauntlets. That was enough to kill him, but I punch his charred corpse into a dumpster to watch him break apart. It doesn’t take much to make me happy, truthfully.
Then I see something peeking out of the trash that gives me an idea.
I still go through with the second part of my plan, flying to Zoxxon and requesting a meeting with whoever deals in dirty tricks. The guards act like they don’t know what I’m talking about, but a dozen of them escort me to the office of Special Projects Director Ferdinand Hartenger. Hartenger is a smooth-looking guy in a dark suit with a red power tie, the uniform of choice for evil corporate types.
“You wished to speak with me, Mr. Shrike?” he asks from his big leather chair.
“Yeah. I saw what happened on the news. That DA who was talking smack about Zoxxon got shot.”
“Indeed. A small-time super-criminal, I think the report called him Run Gunner. I assure you this company-”
“Save it. I know more about Zoxxon than you’d guess. Run Gunner did the job, but he was sloppy. You need someone professional,” I drop the bowling ball bag on Hartenger’s desk, “Someone who won’t lose his head in a crisis.”
One guess as to what’s in the bag, kids.
Ferdy apparently hasn’t seen many mob movies, because he has to unzip the bag and check it out for himself. That’s when I hit him with my tagline-
“Well, sir, did-”
“Ahhh!!” he screams, jumping back as if he’s been bitten.
“-uh did I pass….”
Hartenger starts shaking and crying, “My God! FJ!”
“-audition. Did, um-”
“My son! My son is dead!”
Oh, crap.
I don’t wait for the order to shoot me. I do a nice little duck down and pivot move, sticking out my arm and raking four of the guys behind me with my talons. The others start going for their guns so I jet, crashing through the office’s bullet-proof glass window and flying off as fast as my surgically implanted anti-gravity device will carry me.
It’s only a minor setback, I tell myself. Killing the son of a powerful executive who approves the budget for an evil company’s black ops division isn’t the worst thing that could happen.
Next: Killer Shrike learns an important new word from another guest star, and fights a god deep in the bowels of GothMetropolis.
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