Nuklear Age (49 page)

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Authors: Brian Clevinger

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BOOK: Nuklear Age
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“Really?” America said collectively.

“…is what I would not be saying if this weren’t sweeps week.”

“Ohhhh,” America said. “Well, you better mention something violent, sexy, controversial, or trendy in the next five seconds or I’m going to go to one of the
other
two dozen twenty-four hour news channels and listen to their blather instead of yours.”

“Wait! I mean…um, Homicidal Orgy Abortion Terrorist Rampage.”

“Hm, better.”

“But seriously, this week’s trial of the century of the millennium began slowly as Judge Hangemall Letgodsortitout was visibly upset by the Heroes. He seems to favor Dr. Menace because, according to this press release penned in a joint effort by both the prosecuting and defending attorneys, ‘…she is as innocent as the dawning sun. May those self-serving, so-called “Heroes” burn in the deepest, darkest bowels of the most excruciating of Hells.’”

“Despite the dubious nature of that statement, I shall believe it because it is on TV,” America said.

“Terrorism.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“According to FCC regulations, we have to say the word ‘terrorism’ every two minutes until the American public will accept it as justification for a potentially limitless number of atrocities without question. Just like they accept the rampant and varied oppressions which they endure every day while fooling themselves into believing they have free will when they make the choice between one cola and another.
The fools!”

“Hey, what was that about conspiratorial oppression of us masses?”

“Er, terrorism.”

“Mmm, Terrorific.”

“Yes. All part of the plan.”

__________

 

Atomik Lad took the witness stand as Prosecutor Mode Count Insidious gave him a look of pure hate and repulsion.

“Do you swear to tell the blah blah blah?” Civil Defender said disinterestedly.

“The truth. I swear to tell the truth.”

“I won’t stand for swearing in my courtroom, boy,” the Judge warned.

“But—”

“You best clean up yer act, son.” Hangemall growled. “You’re skating on thin ice as it is.”

“Fine.”

“Permission to treat the witness as hostile, your honor?”

“Hostile?!” Atomik Lad said. “You haven’t even asked me any questions yet, I haven’t had a
chance
to be hostile!”

“The lad’s got a point, Insidious,” the Judge reasoned. “But I’ll allow it anyway.”

Count Insidious leaned against the strong pine railing of the witness stand. He lowered his pale, fanged face to Atomik Lad’s and snarled, “You make me
sick!”

“Could you back it up a bit there?”

Count Insidious paid no heed. “You festering sack of monkey sweat.”

“Hey now.”

“You, you heaping pile of sloth’s puss.”

“Whoa, judge guy. How’s that for language?”

“Nope, he has every right to call you that after what you and your fellow perjurer over there have done to that sweet, friendly, kindhearted, and—pay attention to this part, jury—
innocent
woman over there. You stinking pile of fetid excrement.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Count Insidious straightened his complex eighteenth century garb and began pacing around the courtroom. “Is it or is it not true that you posses really freaky and unnatural powers, Mr. Atomik Lad?”

“I
have unnatural powers? What about you, you unholy abomination?”

Count Insidious was taken aback with shock. “I thought here, in a place of law and order, I could be safe from persecution.”

“You kill people and feed on their blood to sustain your abysmal unlife!”

“You see, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Ignorance. It’s that kind of narrow-minded intolerance that has caused my people to be hunted for hundreds of years. We don’t kill people, we just drink their blood. Should the victim then later, or perhaps soon after, or even
during
, perish due to blood loss, well I’m sorry, I just don’t see how that relates to me.”

“But you’re evil incarnate. The merest hint of pure sunlight will burn your flesh. You’re a monster!”

“It’s hard to believe that such medieval ideas have managed to survive to this enlightened age,” Count Insidious said, addressing the Judge who merely nodded in solemn agreement. “They regarded my people as monsters in those dark days. I should know, I saw it personally between the blood feasts and razing villages.” He licked his lips hungrily. “Er, anyway. Today we no longer regard the physically challenged as monstrosities, Mr. Atomik Lad. We are people too. We don’t ask for much. Just easy access to public buildings, good parking, and the blood of a virgin offered upon the alter of Qlilporg the Fierce when the moon is in the Fifth House of Zombor. We just want to be treated like the rest of you, is that asking so much, Bigot Lad? Is it?”

Atomik Lad’s head had been resting on the rail, rocking slowly from side to side for most of Count Insidious’s speech. “Just ask me your stupid questions already.”

“Did you or did you not trespass on the property in question located at One Old Abandoned Warehouse Way?”

“Well, no. I was scouting the location when she kidnapped me.”

“Or rather your privacy-shattering snooping triggered her security system.”

“Okay, but no. She kidnapped me to hold me hostage in an attempt to lure Nuklear Man into some kind of trap that would kill him.”

“And it would have worked too, had it not been for their accurzed luck, that iz the only explanation for how my incredibly evil geniuz could be undone!” Dr. Menace yelled out. “Er, what I meant to zay waz, ‘Liez, liez, all of it liez.”

Atomik Lad continued, “Whatever damages she suffered were the result of our own self-defense. She brought it on herself.”

Count Insidious spun around to face Atomik Lad. “’She brought it upon herself,’ eh? Sounds like the justification of a rapist to me! Jury, would you believe the testimony of a convicted rapist?”

“Oink,
guilty!”

“Not yet,” the rest of the jury, Dr. Menace, Count Insidious, and Judge Letgodsortitout scolded simultaneously.

Atomik Lad put his forehead back on the railing. “Tis a fair court.”

__________

Issue 38 – Blind Justice

 

Atomik Lad was pulling at his hair. “Something isn’t right about all this,” he said to himself desperately.

“I know,” Nuklear Man said. “I can’t believe we’ve been using our status as Heroes to lie, cheat, steal, and pillage the good people of Metroville all these years. If that isn’t right, then I don’t want to be wrong!”

Atomik Lad looked at his mentor and slapped him across the back of the head. “We haven’t done
any
of those things. You moron.”

“Ha! Apparently someone hasn’t been paying attention to this trial.”

Atomik Lad tuned out Nuklear Man and tuned into Count Insidious.

“And so, as you can clearly see, this Nuklear Man person is the Anti-Christ who controls the entire political and economic realms of the Earth using his mystical mind control world ‘thruple’ and endless legions of manipulative alien Freemasons who make up the Illuminati who control Hollywood to make movies and television shows to keep you all complacent so this man, this
Nuklear
Man, can dominate the world through his Satanic influences.”

“Gads,” Nuklear Man gasped. “Does my evil know no bounds?”

“He’s lying!”

“No, no Sparky. You’re just playing into my heinous plans. Save yourself while you still have a soul!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“I am the spawn of the very underworld itself,” he admitted.

“How is it that I am continually surprised by the depths of your stupidity?”

“Evil. You meant depths of my
evil.”

__________

 

Count Insidious paced before a new witness who had taken the stand. “Would you please state for the record your name and occupation?”

The witness leaned into the microphone. “I am Jim Jameson, a nuclear physicist.”

“So would you say that you are an expert in matters of a nuclear nature?”

“Oh, yes, most definitely.”

“And, in your expert opinion, is ‘nuclear’ dangerous?”

“It certainly is. You see there’s radiation, and explosions, and so on. It’s all quite deadly.”

“And what would you say about a man who is nuclear?”

“Why, he’d be a walking public health hazard. He’d have be kept away from society, locked up in some kind of containment vessel, and heavily guarded.”

“So you’re saying that a nuclear man belongs in jail?”

“That’s certainly one way of saying it, yes.”

“Thank you.”

__________

 

“Please state your name and occupation,” Count Insidious said.

“Ah’m Angus McDougal of the clan McDougal, better knoown to all ye as the Iron Scotsman! Ah’m the appointed Dwarven Warrior for this damn city, and Ah does a
kick arse
job of it!”

“Please to be saying the no,” a tiny voice protested from the back of the room.

“Is there a problem?” the Judge asked.

“Shiro!” Angus yelled, “Shut ye bloody trap, ye raw-fish-eatin’, haiku-writin’, giant-monster-fightin’, cheap-import-car-makin’, Pearl-Harbor-sneak-attackin’, insane-gameshow-watchin’, L-and-R-sound-swtichin’ excuse for a Dwarven Warrior!”

“Hai, but honorable Angus-san no correctu. Shiro is time to being now SUPAA ACTION BATTLER DWARF WAARRIORING!”

“What in tarnation did that kid say?” the Judge asked his stenographer who merely shrugged.

“Don’t ye pay no attention to that stinkin’ samurai.”

“One of you better start makin’ sense,” the Judge threatened.

“Prithee, Shiro is appointment yes. Angus-san on mental leaving holidays. Ways and means, for short time.”

Angus’s left eye twitched. “Short?”

Count Insidious stepped up to the bench. “If your honor would permit us a little time to settle this matter.”

“Little?” Twitchity.

“Fine, but I’m just about done indulging in these small favors.”

Twitchity, twitch. “Ye bastards! Ah’ll show ye! Ah’ll show ye
all
what Ah can do! Just ‘cause Ah’m below the average height don’t mean that Ah’m incompetent!” Angus braced himself, posed angrily, and yelled, “DWARF-A-PULT!”

But nothing happened.

“Aw nuts.” He muttered. “Ah must need ta refuel.”

“Can I ask my questions now?”

“Aye. Ye bloodsuckin’, no-sunlight-likin’, cross-hatin’, night-stalkin’, fashion queenie. Ask ye
blasted
questions.”

“Good. Now then, Mr. McDougal of the clan McDougal, it is no secret that you are a raging drunk.”

“Aye. I’m a wee bit tipsy now, actually,” he said with a proud tip of his head.

“And you often associate with this Nuklear Man criminal.”

Angus crossed his arms which had the soon-to-be unfortunate effect of turning off the Iron: Safety Switch on his now activated and fully operational Iron: Bagpipe Thrusters. “Aye. Someone’s got to be there so that blasted over-sized giant oaf don’t mess things up. He couldn’t do anythin’ right if his life. Also, do ye hear somethin’? Like, say, Iron: Bagpipe Thrusters charging?”

Count Insidious opened his mouth to respond, but Angus’s Iron: Bagpipe Thrusters exploded into action with a bone-shaking thunder that sounded somewhat like every cat in the world had its tail stepped on. The Iron Scotsman burst through the roof with a resounding, “YEEEEEEARGHBLBLBLBLE!!!” and disappeared into the night sky.

Shiro ran up to the scorched witness stand and struck a match. “Shiro is now timing up for to be SUPAA ACTION BATTLER RESCUE OPERATING TILL COWS COME HOME WIELDING THE DAMAGE—GO!” He lit his firecracker booster rocket’s fuse and got ready for blast off. Which is too bad, because the rocket simply exploded. The Tiny Typhoon stumbled around for a few seconds, coughed out several puffs of smoke and said, “Rittle Rocket is heavy with powaa,” before collapsing.

Count Insidious looked up at the gaping—yet small—hole, and then back down to Shiro’s prone, smoking body. “Ahem. No more questions, your honor.”

__________

 

“Please state your name and occupation,” Count Insidious said.

“I am Fred, a prophet of Zarnak the Everloving.”

“So you’re a religious leader.”

“That is right, my son. I have endeavored to preach the word of Zarnak to all who may hear it. He loves you, but if you do not love him, he will put you into the most excruciatingly hellish tortures for all eternity. It’s tough love.”

“And what experiences have you had with the Defendant?”

“Well, none really. But that demonspawn of his, that vile Atomik Lad. Oooh, I don’t like him at all. He oppressed me because of my religious beliefs.”

“Oppressed
you
, a religious leader? I find that interesting ,” Count Insidious said as he approached Atomik Lad. “I could’ve sworn we had a little thing called Freedom of Religion in this country! But apparently this Atomik Lad and Nuklear Man enjoy stomping all over the Bill of Rights almost as much as they like destroying two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of my client’s property! No more questions,” he spat while walking back to Dr. Menace.

“But I must preach the Word of Zarnak and his Eternal Love to the doomed masses I see before me.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Judge Hangemall snapped. “Y’all git down from that witness stand, y’hear?”

“Just as soon as I distribute these informative pamphlets entitled, ‘So You Want To Be Saved From The Most Excruciatingly Hellish Tortures For All Eternity?’”

“Bailiff Civil Defender! Git this fruitcake outta my court.”

“But I don’t want to be tortured for all eternity,” Civil Defender said. “His ideas make me curious and I wish to learn more.”

A horde of Zarnakian monks flowed into the courtroom to disperse their literature of salvation to the soon to be Saved masses.

Judge Hangemall pounded his gavel. “Order! I demand order in this court!”

“But your honor,” Fred said. “Your lives were all chaos. With us, you will have the order which you so desperately seek.”

The Judge blinked. “Really?”

“Yes, it’s all detailed in this easy to read pamphlet. Why don’t you take a look, hm?”

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