Afterthought
Nov 18, 2018 18:24:07 GMT -5
via mobile
Odin Balfore, Alex Richards, and 4 more like this
Post by Bonnie Blue on Nov 18, 2018 18:24:07 GMT -5
Big Apple Comics was more than a comic shop: with floors of reclaimed hardwood, gleaming brushed-steel fixtures, and some of the rarest books and collectibles known to the industry displayed in glass cases, it was an upscale haven for casual fans and mega-nerds alike. The selection was second to none, from obscure independent press books to the hottest titles on the market, and everything in between. And on this particular night, it played host to the city's largest memorial gala in tribute to the late, great Stan Lee. Everyone who was anyone was there: celebrities, pop culture icons, authors, artists, and even athletes -- all in attendance to pay their respects to a man who influenced the shape of three generations, from Baby Boomers to Millennials, and for generations yet to come.
Prominent among the celebrity guests are the Guardians: Bonnie Blue, Alex Richards, Noble Savage, and Damian Kaine who are -- perhaps somewhat ironically -- chatting with Dave Batista, best known to fans of sequential literature as Drax.
“Well, of course,” Bonnie was saying, “we absolutely drew inspiration from Guardians of the Galaxy. One of our founding members even kinda looked a little bit like Chris Pratt. But that's not the whole gimmick, y'know? It's more an homage than a straight up copying. Stan was so gracious about the whole thing, too.”
“Too bad Spencer was such a douche about it,” Richards interjected. “At first, he tried to get us to change. When that didn't work,he tried to figure out how to screw Marvel out of the licensing rights. But we stuck to our guns, and thanks to Stan, here we are, almost a household name. Man, he even hooked us up with Geoff Johns over at DC for that six-issue special under the Vertigo imprint.”
Dave nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, Stan was a great guy,” Batista added. “Had a lot of fun when he was visiting the set for his cameo. Ribbing everybody. Drove James right up the wall. Gunn gets everyone settled down, and the next thing you know, here's Stan with some crazy one-liner, and everyone loses it. All day long. Anyway, gotta run. Someone you never heard of at some promotion that doesn't matter won a belt nobody cares about. Guess that's big news. See you guys at MSG.”
As their colleague walked away, Crow McMorris joined the group, promptly slipping an arm around Bonnie's shoulders. She leaned against him, a contented smile on her lips, as he handed her a plastic cup of frothy brew. Alex shot him a hopeful look, but Crow shook his head.
“No ZimQuila, sorry man,” he said. “Just whatever's in the keg.”
“Good thing I always keep this on hand,” Richards replied, lifting up his ever-present doctor's bag.
“He's got the cure,” a sultry voice chimed in.
Rebecca Thatch, Alex Richards’ longtime love interest, draped one arm around her boyfriend's neck and reached up to give him a light kiss. Ruby eyes twinkled with mischievous delight as her gaze danced around the crowd.
“Did I just see Drax over here? Does it get any more meta than this?” she said, giggling.
“Only if a talking raccoon shows up,” quipped Kaine, looking away from his phone at last.
He'd been texting with his young wife the entire time so far. Understandable, considering she was soon to be a mother. Bonnie thought his long-distance doting was endearing.
“Ya didn't have to come all the way out with us, y'know,” she told him.
Kaine nodded.
“I know, but I wanted to be at Slam to support my crew. Especially with these threats about somebody looking for revenge. Bonnie, I knew Jackson Caine. He was dangerous all on his own, but some of his contacts were shit-chilling. Made MS-13 look like a kindergarten class,” he said.
Crow gave a derisive huff and rolled his eyes. Noble Savage watched the exchange with interest.
“It isn't as if we're without our own strengths,” Savage commented. “We're the Guardians. Two powerful witches, the Archduke of Mass Confusion, and the Invincible Damian Kaine. Nobody can stand against us. We proved that at Hellimination. And besides, I'm sure if Bonnie killed the man, she had sufficient reason to do so.”
“I did,” said the Time Witch. “Caine brought it on himself. Probably some crazed fan. Lot of those out there. And anyway, unless it's the Serpent comin’ down on me with an army of his own, I ain't even worried.”
“What about that whole Echelon thing, though?” asked Crow, frowning slightly.
“A lot of shit talking, that's all.”
The young goddess waved a hand dismissively. She was concerned, of course: John Rabid had been a perpetual enemy since her earliest days in WCF. Unpredictable and utterly ruthless, he'd nearly destroyed her more than once, and his return didn't bode well for anyone. Nevertheless, Bonnie was determined to deal with him on her own. She wouldn't be responsible for the downfall of another faction. Not again.
Thankfully, she was spared further speculation by the arrival of two large men in three piece suits. With neither face paint nor spiked shoulder pads, the pair weren't immediately recognizable. It was Alex Richards who clued the rest of the Guardians in, when he broke into a grin and vigorously shook the hands of both men.
“Joe! Big Mike! Glad you guys made it!” Alex said enthusiastically. “Bonnie, Noble, Damian -- these are the guys I was telling you about. Joseph Laurinaitis and Michael Hegstrand -- ”
“The Road Warriors!” Bonnie concluded, excitedly. “Animal and Hawk! Classic wrestling at it's finest! Unlike your namesake, sadly.”
“Namesake?” asked the Animal, puzzled.
“She means that jerk with the mask,” Hawk told him. “The one with all the ‘yaarp’ and ‘naarp’ nonsense. Makes a mockery of the entire autism spectrum.”
“Oh, that's not cool. He's smearing my good name with that baloney? Does he even have a clue how much work I do with legit autistic people?”
The real animal was indignant. His partner shook his head.
“Do you?” Hawk shot back.
“Look, you can't expect me to remember every weirdo spaz I meet on the road. But yeah, I'm pretty sure I've at least spent a few hours with the little bastards. More than McPherson has, I bet. He's not even really mentally deficient -- just a dumbass!”
“Eloquently stated.”
“You guys are absolutely right,” Alex said. “Thanks for coming here to prove my point: that no self-respecting man called ‘Animal’ would ever disrespect the autistic community with such an obvious display of ignorance.”
Road Warrior Hawk raised a skeptical eyebrow at Richards, while Road Warrior Animal grinned a self-satisfied grin.
“We did also come to pay our respects to Stan the Man,” added Animal in a conspiratorial stage whisper.
“Sure,” said Bonnie. “We all did. There ain't one aspect of modern culture that hasn't been touched by comics, and that includes professional wrestling. And that's why I'm honored to be taking part in an Infinity Stone battle against that inarticulate imbecile Samuel McPherson. He's got the audacity to ‘yaarp’ at his boyfriend's assertion that I'm a coward, that I've been avoiding his dumb ass, when just the opposite is true: the instant me and Alex earned our shot at them tag titles, Sammy and Rob started coming up with every excuse in the book to keep us outta that ring with them. They just damn lucky management finally seen fit to put me in competition for that big shiny.
But that don't mean I lost sight of them tag straps, or that I ain't got my eye on the rest of them Infinity Stones. Far from it, in fact. I'm still planning to take that Slickie T stone from Sammy-boi. With that and my Cairo stone, I'm one-third of the way to claiming that elusive Infinity Championship -- at least until I finally defeat Odin Balfore at Payback and take the Dub-See-Eff World Title for my very own!”
There were nods of agreement and murmurs of assent all around. Hawk and Animal took their leave, wandering off to find Batista draining an unattended keg. One by one, the Guardians, too, split up to mingle with the other guests. Bonnie and Crow, meanwhile, browsed through long boxes full of back issues. While the young goddess searched through the shop's selection of Amalgam titles, looking for a copy of Darkclaw to complete her collection, the Murder Machine idly picked over a series of Batman titles. He pulled one with a cover illustration of a gargantuan figure, arms studded with industrial grade hydraulic lines fed by a device on his back, face hidden beneath a Lucha mask. Bonnie glanced at the Bane book.
“Most overrated Batman villain ever,” she commented. “Not that I'd ever tell Dune that. But still -- way more hype than substance. Just like Sammy.”
Swirling in brilliant cosmic color, among eddies and currents of glittering stars, awash in the indescribable Seas of Time; a solitary pillar of stone rises like a craggy spire, reaching heights unseen by the naked eye and guessed at only in dreams: the Rock of Ages, lair of the Timekeeper and lately, the former Norse god, Ymir.
Temporarily.
High up the sheer cliff face, Bonnie Blue paces impatiently along the smooth stone floor of a vast cavern. The constant, steady tick-tock, tick-tock of a thousand-thousand clocks blends into a background of white noise that keeps the pace of her steps.
“You summoned me, Ymir! Here I am -- now show yourself”
A gust from nowhere kicks up a cloud of dust that twists into a spiraling funnel, hovers before her for a moment, then expands into a spectral, quasi-human form.
“WE HAD A BARGAIN, TIME WITCH”
“I know. You need to chill, my nilla. You waited this long -- another week or two ain't gonna kill ya.”
“YOU PROMISED ME A VESSEL”
Bonnie heaves an exasperated sigh.
“I mean… d’ya want a Gremlin or d'ya want a Ferrari? I can get ya any random loser off the street, or I can find ya somebody you'll like being. Up to you, but don't forget, you refused Singh -- and as meat suits go, his is in pretty good shape. I'd take it for a test drive.”
“YOU BROKE HIM. I REQUIRE A FIT VESSEL.”
“He woulda healed. Don't be such a drama queen, or I'll give you Gravedigger.”
“UNACCEPTABLE”
“Yeah, that's what I'm saying, sugar. You're being too damn picky. How about this guy?”
The Time Witch holds up her phone, a photo displayed on the screen of a muscular gentleman in a mask.
“DUNE! DUNE IS A WORTHY VESSEL!”
“Yeah, good luck with that. Anyway, I see the confusion, but it ain't Dune. It's just Sammy McForeskin.”
The expressionless non-face nevertheless manages to frown in distaste.
“NAARP. HARD PASS.”
“That's my opinion, too, bro. McForeskin is a waste of my time, my talents. Anybody ain't Odin Balfore is a waste of my time right now, but especially Sammy. I could be training right now, focused on Odin. Or out there finding you an acceptable vessel -- if you'd ever make up your damn mind. But nah, I gotta get in the ring with this loser, acting like he's all big and bad cause he's undefeated for them tag straps. Well, no shit, McForeskin! That's what happens when you don't defend your titles. You can't be defeated if ya don't fight! I bet Rob has your illiterate ass convinced that's a great fucking strategy, except -- and hear me out Sammy -- it ain't. That's not strategy. That's the goddamn cowardice you and Doctor Mengele keep on trying to hang on me and Alex, you fucktard!
Yeah y'all think y'all are so clever, calling us out, week after week with the same weak-ass attempts at insults. Call me a coward when ya know damn good and well I got bigger and better ahead of me. I happily step into that ring with a literal God of War who wants literally tear me apart, and probably could -- all on the off chance I might get my hands on the biggest prize in this industry; and you got the balls to insist I'm afraid of you, you uninspiring fucknugget? You honestly think I forgot all about the NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP me and Alex beat three other teams for? That I haven't had my eye on the tag division -- and those belts -- since you two cockstains ruined the entire tag scene by making an illegitimate claim on the titles because your childish ass couldn't grow the fuck up and work with Eccentrix like a man?
Nah, my nilla, I ain't forgot. I just been waiting.
Waiting on you to show me you're worth my consideration, my time, and the effort it's gonna take to make it look like you ever stood a chance against me. But management has decided that, since you somehow got yourself an Infinity Stone, I'm the one who needs to take it from ya. Because face it, Sammy McForeskin -- you're an embarrassment to this company and an insult to the tag division. You're not Dune, no matter how hard you try, and you will never measure up to him. Not in the ring and damn sure not in that THICK where it counts.
So -- and I mean this from the bottom of my dark little heart -- fuck you, Sammy. Fuck you, and fuck your joke of a title reign! You should be on your knees thanking this young goddess for not taking notice of you before now.
But it's too goddess-damned late for that. I got my sights set on that Infinity Stone, and you, Sammy? You're an afterthought. You're nothing to me but the reddish goo I'll be wiping off my boot after I stomp your face in. So good luck McForeskin. Enjoy these fleeting moments between now and Monday night -- because they are your last.”
With a wicked smile, Bonnie Blue holds up a gesture, the back of her hand facing outward, and the first two fingers in a V. The scene cuts abruptly to black.
Prominent among the celebrity guests are the Guardians: Bonnie Blue, Alex Richards, Noble Savage, and Damian Kaine who are -- perhaps somewhat ironically -- chatting with Dave Batista, best known to fans of sequential literature as Drax.
“Well, of course,” Bonnie was saying, “we absolutely drew inspiration from Guardians of the Galaxy. One of our founding members even kinda looked a little bit like Chris Pratt. But that's not the whole gimmick, y'know? It's more an homage than a straight up copying. Stan was so gracious about the whole thing, too.”
“Too bad Spencer was such a douche about it,” Richards interjected. “At first, he tried to get us to change. When that didn't work,he tried to figure out how to screw Marvel out of the licensing rights. But we stuck to our guns, and thanks to Stan, here we are, almost a household name. Man, he even hooked us up with Geoff Johns over at DC for that six-issue special under the Vertigo imprint.”
Dave nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, Stan was a great guy,” Batista added. “Had a lot of fun when he was visiting the set for his cameo. Ribbing everybody. Drove James right up the wall. Gunn gets everyone settled down, and the next thing you know, here's Stan with some crazy one-liner, and everyone loses it. All day long. Anyway, gotta run. Someone you never heard of at some promotion that doesn't matter won a belt nobody cares about. Guess that's big news. See you guys at MSG.”
As their colleague walked away, Crow McMorris joined the group, promptly slipping an arm around Bonnie's shoulders. She leaned against him, a contented smile on her lips, as he handed her a plastic cup of frothy brew. Alex shot him a hopeful look, but Crow shook his head.
“No ZimQuila, sorry man,” he said. “Just whatever's in the keg.”
“Good thing I always keep this on hand,” Richards replied, lifting up his ever-present doctor's bag.
“He's got the cure,” a sultry voice chimed in.
Rebecca Thatch, Alex Richards’ longtime love interest, draped one arm around her boyfriend's neck and reached up to give him a light kiss. Ruby eyes twinkled with mischievous delight as her gaze danced around the crowd.
“Did I just see Drax over here? Does it get any more meta than this?” she said, giggling.
“Only if a talking raccoon shows up,” quipped Kaine, looking away from his phone at last.
He'd been texting with his young wife the entire time so far. Understandable, considering she was soon to be a mother. Bonnie thought his long-distance doting was endearing.
“Ya didn't have to come all the way out with us, y'know,” she told him.
Kaine nodded.
“I know, but I wanted to be at Slam to support my crew. Especially with these threats about somebody looking for revenge. Bonnie, I knew Jackson Caine. He was dangerous all on his own, but some of his contacts were shit-chilling. Made MS-13 look like a kindergarten class,” he said.
Crow gave a derisive huff and rolled his eyes. Noble Savage watched the exchange with interest.
“It isn't as if we're without our own strengths,” Savage commented. “We're the Guardians. Two powerful witches, the Archduke of Mass Confusion, and the Invincible Damian Kaine. Nobody can stand against us. We proved that at Hellimination. And besides, I'm sure if Bonnie killed the man, she had sufficient reason to do so.”
“I did,” said the Time Witch. “Caine brought it on himself. Probably some crazed fan. Lot of those out there. And anyway, unless it's the Serpent comin’ down on me with an army of his own, I ain't even worried.”
“What about that whole Echelon thing, though?” asked Crow, frowning slightly.
“A lot of shit talking, that's all.”
The young goddess waved a hand dismissively. She was concerned, of course: John Rabid had been a perpetual enemy since her earliest days in WCF. Unpredictable and utterly ruthless, he'd nearly destroyed her more than once, and his return didn't bode well for anyone. Nevertheless, Bonnie was determined to deal with him on her own. She wouldn't be responsible for the downfall of another faction. Not again.
Thankfully, she was spared further speculation by the arrival of two large men in three piece suits. With neither face paint nor spiked shoulder pads, the pair weren't immediately recognizable. It was Alex Richards who clued the rest of the Guardians in, when he broke into a grin and vigorously shook the hands of both men.
“Joe! Big Mike! Glad you guys made it!” Alex said enthusiastically. “Bonnie, Noble, Damian -- these are the guys I was telling you about. Joseph Laurinaitis and Michael Hegstrand -- ”
“The Road Warriors!” Bonnie concluded, excitedly. “Animal and Hawk! Classic wrestling at it's finest! Unlike your namesake, sadly.”
“Namesake?” asked the Animal, puzzled.
“She means that jerk with the mask,” Hawk told him. “The one with all the ‘yaarp’ and ‘naarp’ nonsense. Makes a mockery of the entire autism spectrum.”
“Oh, that's not cool. He's smearing my good name with that baloney? Does he even have a clue how much work I do with legit autistic people?”
The real animal was indignant. His partner shook his head.
“Do you?” Hawk shot back.
“Look, you can't expect me to remember every weirdo spaz I meet on the road. But yeah, I'm pretty sure I've at least spent a few hours with the little bastards. More than McPherson has, I bet. He's not even really mentally deficient -- just a dumbass!”
“Eloquently stated.”
“You guys are absolutely right,” Alex said. “Thanks for coming here to prove my point: that no self-respecting man called ‘Animal’ would ever disrespect the autistic community with such an obvious display of ignorance.”
Road Warrior Hawk raised a skeptical eyebrow at Richards, while Road Warrior Animal grinned a self-satisfied grin.
“We did also come to pay our respects to Stan the Man,” added Animal in a conspiratorial stage whisper.
“Sure,” said Bonnie. “We all did. There ain't one aspect of modern culture that hasn't been touched by comics, and that includes professional wrestling. And that's why I'm honored to be taking part in an Infinity Stone battle against that inarticulate imbecile Samuel McPherson. He's got the audacity to ‘yaarp’ at his boyfriend's assertion that I'm a coward, that I've been avoiding his dumb ass, when just the opposite is true: the instant me and Alex earned our shot at them tag titles, Sammy and Rob started coming up with every excuse in the book to keep us outta that ring with them. They just damn lucky management finally seen fit to put me in competition for that big shiny.
But that don't mean I lost sight of them tag straps, or that I ain't got my eye on the rest of them Infinity Stones. Far from it, in fact. I'm still planning to take that Slickie T stone from Sammy-boi. With that and my Cairo stone, I'm one-third of the way to claiming that elusive Infinity Championship -- at least until I finally defeat Odin Balfore at Payback and take the Dub-See-Eff World Title for my very own!”
There were nods of agreement and murmurs of assent all around. Hawk and Animal took their leave, wandering off to find Batista draining an unattended keg. One by one, the Guardians, too, split up to mingle with the other guests. Bonnie and Crow, meanwhile, browsed through long boxes full of back issues. While the young goddess searched through the shop's selection of Amalgam titles, looking for a copy of Darkclaw to complete her collection, the Murder Machine idly picked over a series of Batman titles. He pulled one with a cover illustration of a gargantuan figure, arms studded with industrial grade hydraulic lines fed by a device on his back, face hidden beneath a Lucha mask. Bonnie glanced at the Bane book.
“Most overrated Batman villain ever,” she commented. “Not that I'd ever tell Dune that. But still -- way more hype than substance. Just like Sammy.”
***********************************************
Later…
Swirling in brilliant cosmic color, among eddies and currents of glittering stars, awash in the indescribable Seas of Time; a solitary pillar of stone rises like a craggy spire, reaching heights unseen by the naked eye and guessed at only in dreams: the Rock of Ages, lair of the Timekeeper and lately, the former Norse god, Ymir.
Temporarily.
High up the sheer cliff face, Bonnie Blue paces impatiently along the smooth stone floor of a vast cavern. The constant, steady tick-tock, tick-tock of a thousand-thousand clocks blends into a background of white noise that keeps the pace of her steps.
“You summoned me, Ymir! Here I am -- now show yourself”
A gust from nowhere kicks up a cloud of dust that twists into a spiraling funnel, hovers before her for a moment, then expands into a spectral, quasi-human form.
“WE HAD A BARGAIN, TIME WITCH”
“I know. You need to chill, my nilla. You waited this long -- another week or two ain't gonna kill ya.”
“YOU PROMISED ME A VESSEL”
Bonnie heaves an exasperated sigh.
“I mean… d’ya want a Gremlin or d'ya want a Ferrari? I can get ya any random loser off the street, or I can find ya somebody you'll like being. Up to you, but don't forget, you refused Singh -- and as meat suits go, his is in pretty good shape. I'd take it for a test drive.”
“YOU BROKE HIM. I REQUIRE A FIT VESSEL.”
“He woulda healed. Don't be such a drama queen, or I'll give you Gravedigger.”
“UNACCEPTABLE”
“Yeah, that's what I'm saying, sugar. You're being too damn picky. How about this guy?”
The Time Witch holds up her phone, a photo displayed on the screen of a muscular gentleman in a mask.
“DUNE! DUNE IS A WORTHY VESSEL!”
“Yeah, good luck with that. Anyway, I see the confusion, but it ain't Dune. It's just Sammy McForeskin.”
The expressionless non-face nevertheless manages to frown in distaste.
“NAARP. HARD PASS.”
“That's my opinion, too, bro. McForeskin is a waste of my time, my talents. Anybody ain't Odin Balfore is a waste of my time right now, but especially Sammy. I could be training right now, focused on Odin. Or out there finding you an acceptable vessel -- if you'd ever make up your damn mind. But nah, I gotta get in the ring with this loser, acting like he's all big and bad cause he's undefeated for them tag straps. Well, no shit, McForeskin! That's what happens when you don't defend your titles. You can't be defeated if ya don't fight! I bet Rob has your illiterate ass convinced that's a great fucking strategy, except -- and hear me out Sammy -- it ain't. That's not strategy. That's the goddamn cowardice you and Doctor Mengele keep on trying to hang on me and Alex, you fucktard!
Yeah y'all think y'all are so clever, calling us out, week after week with the same weak-ass attempts at insults. Call me a coward when ya know damn good and well I got bigger and better ahead of me. I happily step into that ring with a literal God of War who wants literally tear me apart, and probably could -- all on the off chance I might get my hands on the biggest prize in this industry; and you got the balls to insist I'm afraid of you, you uninspiring fucknugget? You honestly think I forgot all about the NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP me and Alex beat three other teams for? That I haven't had my eye on the tag division -- and those belts -- since you two cockstains ruined the entire tag scene by making an illegitimate claim on the titles because your childish ass couldn't grow the fuck up and work with Eccentrix like a man?
Nah, my nilla, I ain't forgot. I just been waiting.
Waiting on you to show me you're worth my consideration, my time, and the effort it's gonna take to make it look like you ever stood a chance against me. But management has decided that, since you somehow got yourself an Infinity Stone, I'm the one who needs to take it from ya. Because face it, Sammy McForeskin -- you're an embarrassment to this company and an insult to the tag division. You're not Dune, no matter how hard you try, and you will never measure up to him. Not in the ring and damn sure not in that THICK where it counts.
So -- and I mean this from the bottom of my dark little heart -- fuck you, Sammy. Fuck you, and fuck your joke of a title reign! You should be on your knees thanking this young goddess for not taking notice of you before now.
But it's too goddess-damned late for that. I got my sights set on that Infinity Stone, and you, Sammy? You're an afterthought. You're nothing to me but the reddish goo I'll be wiping off my boot after I stomp your face in. So good luck McForeskin. Enjoy these fleeting moments between now and Monday night -- because they are your last.”
With a wicked smile, Bonnie Blue holds up a gesture, the back of her hand facing outward, and the first two fingers in a V. The scene cuts abruptly to black.
