Great Crime Fighters: Even Super Heroes have Sick Days

Posted: May 19, 2018 by Ty in Bionic Knight Pulps
Tags: , , , , ,

Johnny Power was the Thunder in thunder and lightning (lightning being the Speedster)…the muscle in the new Great Crime Fighters before the new Bionic Knight emerged. Third of three to hold the name. The first went down due to a bomb in a singing thong on a giant robot and the second died at the end of the scythe of the supernatural entity finally exorcised from reality who went by the name Ripper (sometimes Jack was the rumour).

This was the third…who stood the ground during the dark times, and cheered a little inside when the O.G. B.K. came back to silence the anti-heroes and renew the heroic age. The rumour that caused two new members, George and Dragyn, and the rumour that it would come. The cause of the extra-terrestrial exodus to Earth. What inevitable caused the vanishing of the weird old man and the mayor (yes he realized that Shotgun pointed out many times the term old was subjective).

BUT the ashram got a case of noro-virus that took out Speedster, the new Bionic Knight, and Dragyn (who knew reptillians were able to catch it?)—and George, well he had a habit of vanishing when needed. Shotgun offered to come to help him, but really what could the old guy with the shogun that fired rubber rounds do to help in this case?

The case?

It came from out of the water. Everyone was looking to the sky, so maybe it wasn’t the big bag prophesied in the McDonald’s. It was a bad though. One that rankled the environmentalist lobby (bunch of wankers who lacked science degrees, but it was all about marketing) who were being ableist with their ban the straw bullshit, while governments dumped raw sewage into the oceans. Oh and let’s not forget the fun hiking clothes they wore and the process of creating stainless steel, but Johnny pulls his mind back from the rabbit hole of anger. The mayor had two special needs twins that if the ludicrousness of the ban the straw had been launched with her around he could only imagine her blasting of it on safety grounds, and the targeting of a specific group via passive-aggressive legislation that showed underpinnings of extremism not usually seen in uber-lefties, but when the alt-right and uber-left circle about they connect in hate stupidity.

Now exploding out of the Pacific Ocean was the end result of uber-hate-stupidity. A giant extra-terrestrial something dripping in human fecal matter and other flushable (not a plastic straw in sight) threatening to decimate the Island. Shotgun scrambled all he had in Johnny. Johnny knew he could do it.

It was his time to shine.

His time to step into his legacy name.

The thing from below was scaly and shiny.

Razor teeth.

Fire in the eyes literally.

“What could you have done to help stop this thing old man. It needs the full power.” Johnny Power whispers under his breath. Although as see monsters went, it was only a step up from the rubber suit of the original Godzillas he had snuck out of bed to watch on late night CBC as a kid. There was some choppers, and voices. The military was rolling out.

His trench coat flapped in the wind as he streaked towards whatever it was. Some were saying it was a new life form. At times like this the lad wished he had the vision powers of Superman, not just flight, strength and invulnerability.  The code of the G.C.F. was fairly clear if it was living, subdue not kill. Part of Johnny hoped it was.

There. As he drew closer. The sound of a gears creaking. It was a robot.

A smile crossed his face. He could only imagine what Shotgun was saying at this moment. Yeah it would be fun to have the others with him, but truly with it coming out both ends, no one wanted them in the field. Even heroes deserve a sick day.

His fists slam into the sternum. He feels metal crunch. Bodily fluids from the ocean slap against him. Johnny grits reminding himself to keep his mouth closed. His mind raced and it unfolded in his mind. It wasn’t just the feces and other flushable had covered this thing. Something had animated the garbage from the ocean. He could feel the energy coursing through it. Shotgun hadn’t foreseen this happening, but he had kept going on about using science to do proper reclamation and cleaning work, well whatever was attacking had found away to use humanities own crap (literally) against us.

But…

Smash into the centre. The energy burned like fire on a marshmallow over a fire pit before being added to s’more completion. Power thanked whichever gods gave him invulnerability as he punched through to the centre. If the energy is drawing crud from the ocean to make its form, what if?

His home.

The prairies.

The story of the abandoned bunker just outside Balzac.

Time for flight.

A loud grunt. He feels something oozing over him as he flies upwards. Took about an hour to make it, so if adjust for weight. A 90-minute flight back to the province.

Clearing into canola country and the land of oil.

The bunker would be coming up. The monster’s energy had continued increasing the heat. Battling to hold its form together.

Johnny’s eye stung. He did not want to know what had mixed in with his sweat that ran into his eyes. A shriek into his brain that drove through like a hot dagger through flesh.

“WE COME!”

Johnny and monster fall downwards, into the sealed bunker he feels the energy burn. But he cannot burn.

The stop.

The form collapses.

A slew of sludge, garbage and other debris.

Not realizing he had been holding his breath as he crumbles to his knees Johnny exhales.

He looks at the burns on his hands. Pulls the smoking fecal covered coat off him.

“I did it.” Legacy. “I really am Johnny Power.

The dagger shot into the brain again.

“THE LAST OF YOUR KIND.”

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