Re: Vendetta [S!2 Round 1 ~ Presidentialgon]
01-13-2012, 07:15 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by The Deleter.
The President and two of his aides were just about to put the finishing touches on the Superhuman Registration Bill when Johnny Raptor burst into the room.
The room happened to be a perfect replica of the President’s office in the White House, complete with the pot of flowers on the coffee table, the flags, the pictures, everything. There was a series of false windows that showed a view of the grounds outside the actual White House, except if you touched them you’d find out they were screens. It was meant to keep the President comfortable during his stays at the Presidentialgon, because the man who currently held the position didn’t like unfamiliar things. And Johnny Raptor, who was dressed in a ragged shirt, jeans and worn boots at the moment, was very unfamiliar at the moment.
“Excuse me,” he said in a tone far calmer than he actually was, “who are you? And how did you get past -”
“No time to explain, Mister President!”
Johnny dashed up to the desk. He gave a manly nod to one of the aides, a woman chosen for her looks instead of her political ability, and punched the other one out with a sound like God slapping one of his angels. As the man fell, Johnny grabbed his shoulder with his other hand, and then grabbed his face and pulled. To the surprise of everyone but Johnny, the aide’s face came away with a rubbery noise.
The face underneath was green and snakelike. It was also slightly squashed from where the snout had been forced behind the mask. The woman aide gave a little shriek, and the President paled.
“What the hell is that?!” he cried.
Johnny stared grimly at the snake-man.
“A COBRA,” he snarled. “A Cybernetic Organism Bred for Recon and Assasination. One of Viper’s creations. And,” he added, looking up to the President,” it was planning to kill you, Mister President.”
“But, but,” the President spluttered,” why?”
“Because you are the only thing standing between them and Total World Domination.”
Johnny hauled the Cobra into a chair and proceeded to tie him up with his own tie.
“You have the launch codes for America’s nuclear arsenal, correct?” he asked as he worked.
“Well, yes, but I don’t see-“
“The codes are, by sheer coincidence, the activation codes for an extremely powerful and dangerous alien artefact. Your tie, please? Thank you. This artefact could, if activated, wipe out all reptilian life on Earth. And that includes Viper, who want to prevent this artefact from being fired. But they can’t destroy it, because of advanced alien metals, so they decided to do the next best thing and kill you to prevent the launch codes ever being used.”
Johnny Raptor finished his tying and stood, leaving the Cobra tied to the chair. The President looked aghast.
“You saved my life,” he said, breathlessly.
“He’s such a hero,” crooned the female aide.
“I only do my best for America, ma’am.” Johnny flashed a tabloid smile, causing the woman to giggle uncontrollably.
Suddenly, a gunshot. Everyone’s head snapped to the doorway.
“Another one?” said the President.
“Most likely.”
Johnny vaulted over the Presidential desk and grabbed the female aide around the waist.
“Come on, babe,” he said. “You and me, we’ll save the world together. Sorry to bother you, Mister President.”
And with his usual warcry of “JOHNNYYYYYY RAPTOOOOOOOOORRRRRR,” he stormed out of the office at top speed, the aide giggling under one arm.
The President sat back in his chair and tried to recollect his thoughts. Wow, that Johnny Raptor, huh? He sure was something. He’d saved his life. He’d get a medal for that later. It didn’t matter what those FBI fellas said – Johnny Raptor was an okay guy, and in the President’s books, okay guys got medals and a decent house in the suburbs. Now, where was he? Ah, yes, the Superhuman Regi-
He looked down at the piece of paper with “SUPER PERSON REGI REGISTRA THINGY” crayoned on it. He looked at the unconscious bodyguard, tied to the chair. He recalled having never seen that female aide before in his life, and that the walls of his office were six inches of reinforced concrete.
He began to suspect something was terribly wrong.
*-*
A mafia, huh?
Johnny Raptor was no stranger to mafias. He’d taken down plenty. The Italian Mafia, the Russian Mafia, the Lemur Mafia (boy, that was an adventure he didn’t enjoy recalling). But The Mafia seemed bigger than those somehow, as if it was the Mafia to end all Mafias.
Good. It’d take longer to take down. Johnny hated it when enemies didn’t put up enough of a fight. He just hoped Don Italio enjoyed knuckle sandwiches.
He skidded around a corner and headed down another corridor. Damn corridors, they were all alike in this place! And the lady under his arm, as pretty as she was, was too busy swooning over him to be of any help. Oh well. He had that effect on people. And an alien queen, at one point. That had been awkward.
He was no stranger to being kidnapped, either. It was highly inconvenient. There he’d be, wrestling Gretel or dating another lovely Russian blonde, when suddenly he’d be hit in the back of the head and black out, only to wake up tied to a chair or some sort of death contraption. It took vital days out of his schedule, and he didn’t like the powerlessness it entailed. How was he supposed to fight someone when he was unconscious? It was very annoying, and he wished it didn’t happen so often.
Right. Gunshot. Hang on.
He skidded to a halt at another junction, head snapping left and right as he tried to get his bearings. Unfortunately, the corridors were blank and pipe-filled as always. This wasn’t working the way he wanted it to.
So he punched through a wall.
“Ooh, Mister Raptor,” squealed the woman under his arm (what was her name again? Eh, didn’t matter) as plaster rained down. “You’re so strong!”
“Sure I am, lady.”
Johnny counted himself lucky he could tell the difference between plaster and concrete. He stepped through the hole in the wall into the room – what appeared to be the world’s dullest office – and made straight for the door.
Unfortunately, there was a leopard on the other side. This happened sometimes. Wild animals had it out for Johnny Raptor and would haunt him to the ends of the earth, and this leopard had somehow followed him to… wherever the hell it was he was now. Poor thing.
After five minutes of wrestling and yowling, Johnny managed to subdue the sudden, unexpected feline and render it unconscious. Standing atop the prone feline in triumph, he glanced over to the female aide for approval and saw her remove her rubber mask.
“Sssucker!” crowed the Viper assassin, and sprang for his neck. She met his fist coming the other way, did an impressive backflip and collapsed, as unconscious as the leopard.
Johnny took a moment to try and work out what the fuck just happened. Had they planted the leopard as a distraction? Had the aide been a COBRA all along? What was this about a gunshot? It was all very confusing. He relieved some of his stress by kicking the snake-woman on the floor sharply, but it didn’t help his confusion one bit. It was pretty clear Viper had infiltrated this compound –
“VIIIIPEEEEEERRRRRRR!!!”
And they were planning to do something nefarious. Yes, that was why he had been put here. This death tournament thing was a bunch of wombat gizzards. He had to save the President, and more importantly the world, from these nefarious terrorist snakes. He had to clean out the Presidentialgon of its reptilian infestation. That was what he was good at.
Right, first things first. Gunshot.
He hauled the leopard onto his shoulder.
“I’ll call you Zeus,” he said to it. The leopard responded with a non-committal grunt, which was good enough for Johnny. He sprinted out of the room, seeking adventure and leaving an unconscious woman and a trashed office behind him.
He had a vague inkling that someone, somewhere, was going to be very upset at him. He promptly ignored the feeling.
The President and two of his aides were just about to put the finishing touches on the Superhuman Registration Bill when Johnny Raptor burst into the room.
The room happened to be a perfect replica of the President’s office in the White House, complete with the pot of flowers on the coffee table, the flags, the pictures, everything. There was a series of false windows that showed a view of the grounds outside the actual White House, except if you touched them you’d find out they were screens. It was meant to keep the President comfortable during his stays at the Presidentialgon, because the man who currently held the position didn’t like unfamiliar things. And Johnny Raptor, who was dressed in a ragged shirt, jeans and worn boots at the moment, was very unfamiliar at the moment.
“Excuse me,” he said in a tone far calmer than he actually was, “who are you? And how did you get past -”
“No time to explain, Mister President!”
Johnny dashed up to the desk. He gave a manly nod to one of the aides, a woman chosen for her looks instead of her political ability, and punched the other one out with a sound like God slapping one of his angels. As the man fell, Johnny grabbed his shoulder with his other hand, and then grabbed his face and pulled. To the surprise of everyone but Johnny, the aide’s face came away with a rubbery noise.
The face underneath was green and snakelike. It was also slightly squashed from where the snout had been forced behind the mask. The woman aide gave a little shriek, and the President paled.
“What the hell is that?!” he cried.
Johnny stared grimly at the snake-man.
“A COBRA,” he snarled. “A Cybernetic Organism Bred for Recon and Assasination. One of Viper’s creations. And,” he added, looking up to the President,” it was planning to kill you, Mister President.”
“But, but,” the President spluttered,” why?”
“Because you are the only thing standing between them and Total World Domination.”
Johnny hauled the Cobra into a chair and proceeded to tie him up with his own tie.
“You have the launch codes for America’s nuclear arsenal, correct?” he asked as he worked.
“Well, yes, but I don’t see-“
“The codes are, by sheer coincidence, the activation codes for an extremely powerful and dangerous alien artefact. Your tie, please? Thank you. This artefact could, if activated, wipe out all reptilian life on Earth. And that includes Viper, who want to prevent this artefact from being fired. But they can’t destroy it, because of advanced alien metals, so they decided to do the next best thing and kill you to prevent the launch codes ever being used.”
Johnny Raptor finished his tying and stood, leaving the Cobra tied to the chair. The President looked aghast.
“You saved my life,” he said, breathlessly.
“He’s such a hero,” crooned the female aide.
“I only do my best for America, ma’am.” Johnny flashed a tabloid smile, causing the woman to giggle uncontrollably.
Suddenly, a gunshot. Everyone’s head snapped to the doorway.
“Another one?” said the President.
“Most likely.”
Johnny vaulted over the Presidential desk and grabbed the female aide around the waist.
“Come on, babe,” he said. “You and me, we’ll save the world together. Sorry to bother you, Mister President.”
And with his usual warcry of “JOHNNYYYYYY RAPTOOOOOOOOORRRRRR,” he stormed out of the office at top speed, the aide giggling under one arm.
The President sat back in his chair and tried to recollect his thoughts. Wow, that Johnny Raptor, huh? He sure was something. He’d saved his life. He’d get a medal for that later. It didn’t matter what those FBI fellas said – Johnny Raptor was an okay guy, and in the President’s books, okay guys got medals and a decent house in the suburbs. Now, where was he? Ah, yes, the Superhuman Regi-
He looked down at the piece of paper with “SUPER PERSON REGI REGISTRA THINGY” crayoned on it. He looked at the unconscious bodyguard, tied to the chair. He recalled having never seen that female aide before in his life, and that the walls of his office were six inches of reinforced concrete.
He began to suspect something was terribly wrong.
*-*
A mafia, huh?
Johnny Raptor was no stranger to mafias. He’d taken down plenty. The Italian Mafia, the Russian Mafia, the Lemur Mafia (boy, that was an adventure he didn’t enjoy recalling). But The Mafia seemed bigger than those somehow, as if it was the Mafia to end all Mafias.
Good. It’d take longer to take down. Johnny hated it when enemies didn’t put up enough of a fight. He just hoped Don Italio enjoyed knuckle sandwiches.
He skidded around a corner and headed down another corridor. Damn corridors, they were all alike in this place! And the lady under his arm, as pretty as she was, was too busy swooning over him to be of any help. Oh well. He had that effect on people. And an alien queen, at one point. That had been awkward.
He was no stranger to being kidnapped, either. It was highly inconvenient. There he’d be, wrestling Gretel or dating another lovely Russian blonde, when suddenly he’d be hit in the back of the head and black out, only to wake up tied to a chair or some sort of death contraption. It took vital days out of his schedule, and he didn’t like the powerlessness it entailed. How was he supposed to fight someone when he was unconscious? It was very annoying, and he wished it didn’t happen so often.
Right. Gunshot. Hang on.
He skidded to a halt at another junction, head snapping left and right as he tried to get his bearings. Unfortunately, the corridors were blank and pipe-filled as always. This wasn’t working the way he wanted it to.
So he punched through a wall.
“Ooh, Mister Raptor,” squealed the woman under his arm (what was her name again? Eh, didn’t matter) as plaster rained down. “You’re so strong!”
“Sure I am, lady.”
Johnny counted himself lucky he could tell the difference between plaster and concrete. He stepped through the hole in the wall into the room – what appeared to be the world’s dullest office – and made straight for the door.
Unfortunately, there was a leopard on the other side. This happened sometimes. Wild animals had it out for Johnny Raptor and would haunt him to the ends of the earth, and this leopard had somehow followed him to… wherever the hell it was he was now. Poor thing.
After five minutes of wrestling and yowling, Johnny managed to subdue the sudden, unexpected feline and render it unconscious. Standing atop the prone feline in triumph, he glanced over to the female aide for approval and saw her remove her rubber mask.
“Sssucker!” crowed the Viper assassin, and sprang for his neck. She met his fist coming the other way, did an impressive backflip and collapsed, as unconscious as the leopard.
Johnny took a moment to try and work out what the fuck just happened. Had they planted the leopard as a distraction? Had the aide been a COBRA all along? What was this about a gunshot? It was all very confusing. He relieved some of his stress by kicking the snake-woman on the floor sharply, but it didn’t help his confusion one bit. It was pretty clear Viper had infiltrated this compound –
“VIIIIPEEEEEERRRRRRR!!!”
And they were planning to do something nefarious. Yes, that was why he had been put here. This death tournament thing was a bunch of wombat gizzards. He had to save the President, and more importantly the world, from these nefarious terrorist snakes. He had to clean out the Presidentialgon of its reptilian infestation. That was what he was good at.
Right, first things first. Gunshot.
He hauled the leopard onto his shoulder.
“I’ll call you Zeus,” he said to it. The leopard responded with a non-committal grunt, which was good enough for Johnny. He sprinted out of the room, seeking adventure and leaving an unconscious woman and a trashed office behind him.
He had a vague inkling that someone, somewhere, was going to be very upset at him. He promptly ignored the feeling.