“Har har!” the greasy biker laughed as he threw punch after punch at me. “You fell for our trap right good, oy?”
“Finish ‘im off Torch, then we can head back home for chocolate donuts,” the blond biker laughed.
“Yeah, and grape soda, too!” his companion laughed.
“Just fall down and this’ll be over, right,” Torch’s punch connected with my jaw and I felt myself getting dizzier and dizzier from the beat down. “You can barely stand as it is.”
“It’s more your smell… than you punches,” I managed to wheeze.
“Oh yeah, this’ll teach you to mess with the Dreadnoks!” Torch hauled his big paw way back and let loose with a wild haymaker.
Except I caught it.
Then I executed an excellent circle throw and tossed him over my shoulder.
“Haw haw! ‘e showed you good.”
“Shut up, Ripper,” Torch growled as he hauled himself up. “I’m no’ through with ‘im yet.”
As he stood up, I kicked him right in the stomach and he doubled over.
“Oh yes you are,” I replied as I gave him an uppercut that sent him sprawling to the ground.
“Ay! ‘e punched out Torch!” Ripper howled.
“Get ‘um!” Buzzer yelled. I responded by picking up a radio and smashing him with it. He crumpled to the ground but his buddy Ripper kneed me right in the stomach.
“Har, sure was clever of Zartan to delay you with that clue to give us time to set the trap, eh?” he laughed as he landed several punches.
“Ripper, you certainly do talk too much,” Buzzer added as he picked himself up and grabbed me. “Push him out the window now!”
I struggled against them, but they managed to overpower me and shove me against the window frame. Torch crawled back to his feet and joined his comrades and my head tipped out the window, followed by my torso.
“Not fair, man,” I gasp. “Three against one and all.”
“Try not to take it personally,” Buzzer chided. “It’s just a job, y’know.”
The three bikers laughed as I felt myself tip over backwards out the window. The wind rushed past my ears as I desperately grasped at anything to try to stop my fall.
Suddenly, I felt cold metal dig into my fingers. I instinctively grabbed for dear life as the clock hand became the only thing saving me from a long, bad fall.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
All along the clocktower
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 08:46
Labels: Dreadnoks, Presidential Campaign
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7 comments:
They have charming names.
Hey Jon do you have the time...Haw Haw.
That fall doesn't look so bad. Oh right, you can't fly. I keep forgetting you aren't a mutant.
You really need to build your own personal armor for situations like this.
Cap'n Picard -- Yeah, everything about them is charming, huh?
Ha, good one, Henchy.
Professor X -- Right. I'll get to work on that.
Ironboy -- I prefer to get by on my wits and intellegence, which explains why Ironman has the armor, huh?
hello just use the Intergalactic wristcom...
right???
Holy crap! It is a good thing than when this happened it was not 6:30!
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