Saturday, May 19, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
THE LOCAL HEROES: TROUBLE IN RIVER CITY is an anthology of super hero stories that will help you appreciate the quiet dignity of Joel Shumacher's BATMAN AND ROBIN. Also it's free!
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT! You can get pulled over by the police for driving the Batmobile while wearing Frankenhooker boots!
The driver, in platform heels and little else was given a warning for “Improper Footwear While Operating A Motor Vehicle.”
The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions)
Carry That Weight
Al Bruno III
Several lifetimes ago Jason Magwier had learned that the secret to looking like a master manipulator was to keep a bemused, know-it-all-expression on his face no matter what was going wrong. It was a strategy that had served him well and saved the lives of his companions on many occasions.
But tonight there was no keeping a nervous tick from tugging at the corner of his smirking mouth, “We’re all here now. How wonderful.”
The parlor of the Sallow Sultan looked like a battlefield in a dollhouse; the red and pink walls were spattered with gore and pockmarked with bullet holes. Two corpses, one a guard, one a working girl, lay on the floor; the blood running from their bodies combined and pooled in front of the fireplace.
Jason had expected that....
The front door had been broken down. Zeth and Dr. Flesh were tussling with only a silver war hammer keeping the old soldier from becoming the deadly assassin's latest victim.
Just like Jason had planned it.
Jack Diamond was woozy, confused and on the defensive.
And that was the way Jason preferred him.
First things first. Jason Magwier launched himself off the club chair and tackled Dr. Flesh. The assassin screeched like an animal but before he could wriggle free Jason pinched him on the nose with a hearty “Beep beep!”
Dr. Flesh’s screeching became choking as he went into a full-fledged seizure.
All four red phials were in place, the Constable and Sentries were neutralized, and the china teaset was destroyed. It had all been going so perfectly, exactly as Jason remembered it might happen.
Then he had seen Lorelei lying on the floor with Mustard half-standing on her back with one foot and crushing her hand with his other. She had been dressed up as one of the Sallow Sultan’s working girls and looked like she had been on the losing end a fight.
“And now that that’s taken care of,” the dark-eyed man made a show of getting back to his feet and brushing himself off, “we can all calm down a little.”
“Fuck you.” Jack Diamond said, “Fuck you in your ear.”
Zeth tried to get up but blood was running from a wound in his scalp and his pupils were dilated. He stumbled and only kept himself from falling by using the silver hammer as a crutch.
At this moment Lorelei was supposed to have been standing behind Jack Diamond, that was the way Jason had seen it in his mind's eye a dozen times over. She was supposed to sneak and skulk! But instead she had gotten dressed up as one of the working girls. Now everything was up for grabs...
“Excuse me,” Jason turned on his heel and glared at the old pimp, “but you're standing on my girlfriend.”
“Jason. Don’t let me die dressed like this-” Lorelei began but Mustard ground his heel into her back to silence her.
“Listen you- I don’t know what your game is and I don’t want to be involved!” the old pimp held up a red phial, “you can take this right back!”
Jack Diamond’s jaw dropped. “What the? How did you...” he patted his torn out pocket then caught sight of his red phial lying on the carpet in the center of the room. It was glowing slightly.
Both phials were glowing slightly. Jason started to speak.
...the gun thundered again, the bullet leaving a crater of gristle where Lorelei’s chest had been. Her heart was visible and it shivered momentarily like a dying animal...
The vision was as brief as it was sudden. It was Jason Magwier’s blessing and curse that he could remember all the things that might happen but this vision was different.
This was something that should have happened.
A droning sound began to filter in from the street, a thick syrupy buzz that grew louder and closer.
“Played...” Dr. Flesh stood, he fished the red phial from his jacket. The red glow deepened, “...you played us all again.”
“I’m sure it looks that way...” Jason produced his own phial and held it up, “...but maybe it’s all just a coincidence.”
“There’s...” Jack Diamond said, “...more than one?”
“Listen to me!” Jason raised his voice, with every word his delivery became more and more theatrical, “Mustard- you were going to be shut down any day. They knew about your ties with the bootleg idol business.”
“Well I never!” Mustard huffed.
The distant reverberations grew louder, it sounded like a fleet of helicopters approaching but there was an organic quality to the sound.
“And you Dr. Flesh,” Jason continued, “do you honestly think that if you killed Jack Diamond the Kuen-Yuin would let you leave this city alive?”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll...” Dr. Flesh paused trying to choke off what he was going to say next, what he had to say next, “...carry that weight."
“No!” Jason’s voice was equal parts desperation and exasperation. “There are too many agendas at work here. Do you honestly think the powers that be don’t know what’s going on? The Monarchs? Remember them? The true rulers of this city? Think people! Use your minds... And your ears.”
“Four of them...” Jack Diamond said, “...why are there four of them?”
“We could always set one free and ask it?”
“Very funny,” Dr. Flesh said, “nothing mortal can break these.”
“True,” Jason raised an eyebrow, “if only I had something more than mortal... Something forged by the gods themselves.”
Zeth knew his queue when he heard it. He charged into the center of the room, holding Maxwell’s Silver Hammer over his head.
The buzzing had become a roar somewhere between a mechanical cry and organic thunder. The walls of the Sallow Sultan began to shake.
Maxwell’s Silver Hammer whistled downwards shattering the phial. Each of the other three phials exploded at the exact same moment.
Everything went red.
Reality came apart.
Just like Jason Magwier had planned...
(Recommended Hotness) Not only does Faye Daniels look great in photographs she also takes photographs of great looking ladies!
"Is your B.O. a natural defense mechanism against predators?" or "See ladies? I'm supposed to smell like this!!!"
...Most of the body is covered with eccrine sweat glands that secrete water and a little salt. This doesn't feed anything, and so the sweat evaporates without stinking. So far, so good. It turns out, though, that around the rest of the body there are things called apocrine sweat glands. They're just about everywhere people have thick body hair, and both the hair and the glands really get going only after puberty. These glands don't just give off water and salt. They mix in sialomucin. Mucins, as the name suggests, result in a lot of the body secretions that could be described as gelid. Sialomucin is a component in breast milk. It feeds children, when secreted by the right body part, but when secreted by the apocrine sweat glands, it feeds a lot of bacteria. The armpits are the best place on the body to get it, since they are always warm and moist, have no cleaning systems, and almost always have a free buffet.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
So many great music makers are passing away lately...
Donna Summer -- the Queen of Disco -- died this morning after a battle with cancer ... TMZ has learned.
We're told Summer was in Florida at the time of her death. She was 63 years old. ..
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Could be interesting but do you think they'll be able to outdo this?
According to the Random Superhero Generator... "Al Bruno III is especially vulnerable to fluid-based attacks...."
THE RANDOM SUPERHERO GENERATOR had this to say about me;
Al Bruno III has inherited a spectacular wisdom. He has the power to leap faster than the speed of sound using a wondrous motorcycle and he has mastered the ability to cause his rivals to become diseased. Shamefully, Al Bruno III is especially vulnerable to fluid-based attacks...
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
THE COLD INSIDE
By AL BRUNO III
Thursday November 10, 1994
The Cold Inside raged at Tristam until he felt sick. Every bad memory he had- from his Dad not showing up to see him in the Kindergarten play to Evan kissing Monique- bubbled to the surface of his mind playing over and over again like some cruel hit parade. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch his mother in the mouth once for every time she had slighted or hurt him. He wanted to break his sister’s nose and ruin her good looks forever. He wanted to lock the doors of the Blessed Heart Academy and set the buildings on fire with every teacher and student inside. Then he wanted to piss on the ashes.
He tried use the anger management exercises Dr. Butterfield had taught him but they seemed like nothing more than children’s games now. Afraid of what he might do Tristam sat in his closet with the door closed and his ratty old sleeping bag pulled around him like a shawl.
Well, I was there. Kind of.
“No, no I wasn’t, not really.” He whispered to the darkness, “But Mom could tell I was lying.”
She had no right to ground me. No right at all.
“All because of that bitch Pam.”
How did she see me? No one can ever see me.
“I dunno, maybe because she’s my sister, maybe because she hates me. Everyone hates me. Even I hate me.”
This is a crazy way to be acting. If Mom finds me behaving like this it’s off to the loony bin
“Fuck her. Fuck you. Fuck all of them.”
“Tristam!” He heard his mother yell, “Phone call!”
Who would that be? At this hour?
Realization stuck him like a bolt and sent him stumbling out of the closet, out of his room. He ran down the hallway. The sudden motion sent Cookie fluttering from the dining room table to the security of her cage.
“Slow down,” Carol Bloom warned as she handed off the phone.
“Dad?” Tristam said breathlessly.
“There he is.” His father’s voice boomed out of the earpiece, “Sorry I couldn’t make it this week.”
“Oh. I understand.” Tristam began to retreat into the kitchen, “Actually I’m glad you called...”
“I didn’t call. Your Mother called me.”
“She-” Tristam stopped dead in his tracks and stared into the parlor. His mother was giving him a smug look, “She called you?”
“Yes, and she told me how you’ve been behaving. Cutting class now? Classes that I work my ass off to pay for? Are you determined to ruin your future?”
Tristam ran into the kitchen and began babbling desperately, “Dad it wasn’t even a class! It was a stupid assembly!”
His father’s voice became louder, “Ah-ha! So you admit to not being where you where supposed to be?”
“No! I mean yes! I mean- Look I was at the assembly. Pam was just trying to get me into trouble,” He sat on one of the stools in the breakfast nook and drummed his free hand on the countertop.
“Tristam,” His Dad sighed with exasperation, “Why would she do that?”
“Because she hates me!”
“What did I tell you last time I visited?”
Tristam groaned at the little mantra his father had taught him, “Just because there’s a storm I shouldn’t go around making waves...”
“And did you listen to what I said? Did you really listen?”
“You know something Dad, you hardly see me anymore so I don’t see how you can criticize me like this.” Tristam’s drumming fingers became a fist, he wanted to hit something so badly it almost hurt.
“Don’t you dare-” A voice on the other end of the line interrupted Gawain in mid-scold, “Hang on.”
Tristam rolled his yes as he listened to the heated whispering. Dad must be at work, as usual.
“Sorry.” When he came back onto the line he sounded tired, “Now listen. You are my son and I may not know what you had for breakfast but I know you’re a lot smarter and more levelheaded then the way you’ve been acting. You’re better than this, a lot better than this.”
“Dad I did not cut class. I was right there in the assembly with everyone else.” Tristam wondered if his mother, sister and Ronnie where eavesdropping. He got up from the stool and took a quick peak out of the kitchen. They were all watching television, their attention caught up in the latest episode of ER.
“I wish I could believe you.”
He retreated back into the kitchen, “Dad they’re coming at me every day. The kids at school, the teachers, even Mom, and Pam too. They all think I’m some kind of a- monster. You said you would always believe me, you said you would always be on my side.”
“I am on your side, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you flush your life down the toilet.”
“I want to come and live with you Dad.”
There was a long pause before Gawain spoke again, “Son...”
“I’ll behave. I swear to God I’ll behave. I just want to start over, I want to go someplace where I’m not pointed out in the street.”
“You’re sixteen years old. You’re not old enough to live unsupervised and that’s what you would be doing about half the time. I’m a busy man, busier than I deserve.”
“You- you could send me to one of the private schools out there. A boarding school.”
“You think I’m made of money?”
“I don’t- it’s not that-”
“Son, maybe if things were different that would be doable but I’m on a government salary here... and a pretty lousy one at that. I can barely afford the child support and the expenses your mother backed me into.”
Oh boy here we go again. Tristam thought.
“What does that have to do with this?”
“Your mother needs those support checks I send. She doesn’t know how to live within her means, you should know that by now. You think she’d just let you leave at sixteen when there’s two more years left on the court ordered gravy train? She’d fight tooth and nail to keep me from getting custody of you.”
“Please. I could talk to her, we could work something out.” It made him want to cry. His father thought his mother was no good on all accounts but he was more than willing to leave her in charge of his only son.
“No. Maybe if this was another time and place, but I am where I am in my life and you are where you are and there isn’t much either of us can do about it. Just remember that everything happens for a reason and that you are my son. That makes you special, more special than you know.” The other voice started up again, more frantic than before, “Gotta go now.”
“OK. When you coming to see me?”
“Soon as I can. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Keep your nose clean. I mean it.”
“OK.” Tristam replied. There was a click and then the mindless buzz of the dial tone.
I should run away. He thought, Pack my bags and hitchhike to somewhere far away from here. Maybe I could find a nice Amish family to take me in.
Mustering up as much dignity as he could he stepped out of the kitchen to find his mother waiting for him. He handed her the phone.
She glowered at him, “What did your father have to say?”
“The usual, that you’re vindictively bleeding him dry.”
“Same old Gawain.” Her cheeks reddened, “What did he have to say about you cutting class?”
“Nothing? He didn’t sound like he was going to say nothing.”
“Unlike you he believed me.”
“You mean you suckered him?”
“Shouldn’t I be grounded?” He stormed back into his room and slammed the door behind him.
“You are more than grounded.” She called after him, “I’m still thinking of stuff I’m going to do to you!”