Well, just to show you this story isn't dead (hey, it's only been about
five months) here is a teaser. Hopefully more to follow before too long.
It depends on the muse, as always.
Avenging
Chapter 3
Blind Man's Bluff
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
An Ranma 1/2/Avengers (the superhero group) fusion
All C+C is craved for
You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net
Standard Disclaimer: Hell, no. I don't own any of the characters
Avenging is being kept at:
Doug's Archive at:
http://www.theisp.net/pages/catman/
Slashley's page at
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Shrine/5747/
And my own page at:
http://angcobra.jumpfun.com/dbsommer.html
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Even in a place as odd as Nerima, one did not have race cars crash through
the front glass of a bank all that often.
So it was that the huge glass window to the bank's lobby shattered in a
loud crash, which caused all of the customers, tellers, and security guards
to throw themselves on the ground and cover their heads. The cacophony
continued as the loud impact of the race car, that had driven through the
window, landed on the tiled floor and skidded across it. It somehow missed
all of the prone patrons and came to a stop in front of the counter, right
next to a teller.
The engine fell silent, and the clear plastic dome that had been in place
over the roofless car slid back, allowing the driver to stand up so that
all in the lobby could see him. He wore a gaudy-looking blue leather jacket
and pants with yellow birds all over them. On his head was a dark blue
crash helmet, and he wore oversized driving goggles over his eyes,
obscuring his features from the world. He held a machine-gun in his hands
and brandished it in the air; the hint of deadly menace clear in his
manner.
One of the bank tellers nearest to the car stood and spoke up. "Sir, I'm
afraid the drive-thru is located on the other side of the bank."
"Oh. Sorry about that." The driver began to sit down, then slapped himself
in the helmet and stood up once again. "This is a stick up! Nobody move or
you'll be sorry! Now my name's Stuntmaster, and I want you to give me all
of your money o-"
"Hey! You're Speed Racer!" one of the customer's said as he got up off the
floor and pointed at Stuntmaster in awe.
Eyes widened beneath oversized driving goggles. "H...how did you-"
Stuntmaster took a deep, calming breath and collected his thoughts. "I'm
afraid you're mistaken, sir. My name is Stuntmaster. As you might have
guessed by my outfit, I am a supervillain, and have no affiliation
whatsoever with that scourge of the speedways, Speed Racer."
"But you're driving the Mach-5." The man pointed at the distinctive-looking
white race car with the big red 'M' on the hood.
"Argh!" Stuntmaster grunted as he smacked himself in the helmet once again.
He knew he had forgotten to do something. Trying to salvage something from
the mess his situation had become, he said, "I...umm, stole it from him.
Yes, that's it. I stole it from him and now it's called the Stuntmobile."
"Why does it still have an 'M' on the hood? Stuntmobile starts with an
'S'," a five year old boy pointed out.
"Mind your own business!" Stuntmaster shot back.
Just as he finished shouting, the trunk to the 'Stuntmobile,' flung open
and two diminutive figures, armed with sub-machine-guns, burst out from it.
"Freeze! If anyone moves, I'll cap your sorry ass!"
"Ook! Ook!"
Stuntmaster looked on in shock at the two stowaways. "Spridal! Chim Chim!
What the hell are you doing here?"
Spridal gave in okay sign to his brother. "Me and Chim Chim wanted to help
out, just like we always do."
Stuntmaster brought his hands to his helmet. "Pop's going to kill me for
getting you involved in this heist."
Silently, one of the security guards approached Stuntmaster, staying out of
the gaudily dressed supervillain's line of sight. He went undetected,
getting within a foot of the villain before drawing the object from the
within the confines of his uniform and poked Stuntmaster in the back with
it.
"Can I have your autograph, Mr. Racer?" the security guard asked, pen and
a piece of bank stationary in hand.
By almost unconscious reflex, Stuntmaster said, "Sure," and began to sign
the paper. It took him a moment to realize what he was doing. He quit
signing the autograph and brandished his weapon once more. "Quit horsing
around! This is a stick-up, so act like it!"
A thrown billy club connected with the side of Stuntmaster's helmet,
producing a ringing sensation, but otherwise leaving him unharmed. His eyes
followed the path of the attacking weapon, which bounced once on the floor
before returning to the hand of its wielder.
All eyes turned to see the man, standing next to open area where the window
had been a moment ago. He was wearing a loose-fitting, blood red robe and a
red mask with two tiny horns on the head. The lower portion of the mask was
cut out, allowing the masked adventurer to talk without any obstructions.
Two overlapping 'D's in black lettering were clear on the center of his
chest.
"Oh my god!" Stuntmaster gasped. "It's Batman!"
The billy club met his face this time.
"I'm not Batman, you moron!" the man in red shot back.
Stuntmaster began jumping up and down in joy. Here he was, only on his
first official super-villain outing and already he rated the attention of a
superhero. With all of the witnesses present, it was his chance to make it
big.
Preening like a peacock, Stuntmaster boldly announced to the crowd, "So,
it's my arch-nemesis..." Stuntmaster suddenly realized he didn't have the
faintest idea of who his opponent was. The double 'D's on his chest must
have stood for something, and it probably had nothing to do with the masked
man's breast size. Stuntmaster's mind raced with the possibilities.
"Destructive Dan?"
"What are you talking about?" the red garbed adventures asked in obvious
bewilderment.
"Dr. Danger?" Stuntmaster guessed again.
"Don't be absurd." The masked man at last understood what Stuntmaster was
doing.
"Dirk Domino?"
"Can't you at least be imaginative?"
"Dastardly Disaster?"
"That's it! My name is-"
"I've got it! The Debutante Detective!"
A billy club met his helmet in the second time. "My name is Daredevil!
Daredevil!"
"No need for such language, my arch-nemesis," Stuntmaster assured him.
"I'm not your arch-nemesis," Daredevil pointed out as his teeth gnashed
together. "This is the first time we've ever met, Speed Racer."
"I'm Stuntmaster, not Speed Racer," the villain snapped. "And this is but
the first of many meetings we shall have."
Daredevil shook his head. "Not likely. I'm going to capture you right now
and you're going to jail for a very long time."
Stuntmaster scoffed at the very idea. "What are you going to do? Bounce
your billy club off my helmet again? Hahahaha. I've had my head run over by
Racer X himself, and came out of it without a scratch. Haha-"
Stuntmaster found himself struck all over his body from dozens of billy
clubs that were hurled from the loose sleeves of Daredevil's robes.
Stuntmaster was knocked backward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected
assault.
Spridal gave a sigh of disappointment. It was up to him to save the day. He
turned to his simian companion. "Let's nail the horn-headed freak."
Daredevil barely had time to duck through the broken frame and outside the
bank. He remained behind one of the walls as a hail of gunfire from the
tiny terrors arched his way.
Once there was a break in the gunfire, Daredevil shouted, "Shouldn't you be
in school, little boy?"
"Where do you think I scored these guns?" Spridal snapped back, then sent
another burst near Daredevil's location.
As Spridal sprayed the area with gunfire, Stuntmaster had recovered enough
to hear the sounds of sirens nearby. He turned to his brother and pet
monkey. "We're out of here, you two! Hop in the backseat."
"What about the money, Speed?"
"IT'S STUNTMASTER!!!" he snapped back. "We'll get some the next time we
knock over a bank!"
"But I wanna' DVD player!" Spridal wined before Stuntmaster grabbed hold of
both him and Chim Chim by the backs of their collars and tossed them into
the backseat. The moment they hit, Stuntmaster started the engine. With the
push of a button on the steering wheel, a bulletproof plexi-glass shield
came over the top and completely sealed the driver's compartment. The bank
customers dove for cover once again as the Mach 5 turned around in the
lobby and pointed towards the exact path it had come in through.
Daring to look around the corner, Daredevil looked just in time to see the
Mach-5 surge forward towards the opening, using the four automatic jacks
located next to each tire to leap up into the air and through the shattered
windowpane to the street beyond.
Upon landing and steering the Mach 5 in the direction he wanted it to go,
Stuntmaster saw that the police had had enough time to set up twin
barricades that blocked both ends of the road. That earned a sneer from
Stuntmaster as he charged forward towards one set of the police cars.
The touch of a different button caused twin buzzsaws to extend from their
concealed positions in the front of the car. The Mach 5 only slowed down
slightly as the saws tore through the police cars like they were composed
of paper meche. Stuntmaster laughed hard as he sped past the scene of
destruction, looking back over his shoulder so that he could enjoy the
carnage one last time before leaving its sight. It was as he was still
admiring his handiwork, that the sounds from the backseat began.
"Here he comes. Here comes Speed Racer. He's a demon on wheels."
"SHUT UP!" Stuntmaster bellowed at Spridal and Chim Chim as he considered
throwing them out on general principle.
The Mach 5 turned a corner around the next building, only to see a familiar
red-garbed figure make a swooping pass, using a cable from one of his billy
clubs, a good fifty feet in front of the car. Daredevil continued his arc
as he swung from one building to the next. Stuntmaster was wondering how
Daredevil could have been so far off on his swing when he spotted the
caltrops that were now lying directly in the middle of the street, having
been released by the hero on the 'errant' swing.
Stuntmaster hit the button for the automatic jacks again. There was a loud
bang from the front left tire before the Mach 5 was airborne. It cleared
the remainder of the caltrops easily, but as the car landed Stuntmaster
could feel the damage had been done.
"Spee, I mean Stuntmaster, we're slowing down," Spridal said.
"It can't be helped," Stuntmaster replied as he turned to cut through the
downtown section of Tokyo. The nearest hideout was located no more than
twenty miles away from their current position. Barring the police somehow
having stumbled onto the hideout, they were home free. The only thing that
truly worried Stuntmaster at that point was Daredevil. By swinging from
building to building, and due to the slower speed of the Mach 5 from the
blown out tire, there was an offhand chance he might cause problems again.
To make his path harder to follow, Stuntmaster went down a series of side
streets and alleys. True, it would slow him down further, but losing
Daredevil would make it all worth while. He continued down several others
before setting back on his proper course and onto one of the main streets
of downtown Tokyo again. Stuntmaster afforded a glance above to see if
Daredevil was around, but there was no one in sight.
"Ha! We've escaped him. It seems my arch nemesis isn't so smart after all."
Stuntmaster noticed a 'Bridge Is Out' sign in the middle of the street and
followed the detour down the alleyway.
Stuntmaster was still basking in the glory of his escape as he gunned the
engine and hurried to the tunnel ahead. It was odd, as to how the thing was
pitch black though, almost as if all of the lights in the tunnel were
burned out, but then Tokyo street crews had been very lax about upkeep
lately. It was only as Stuntmaster was ten meters away from the 'tunnel'
that he suddenly realized there were no bridges in the middle of downtown
Tokyo.
The sound of a car crashing into an alleyway wall, resounded throughout the
area.
Daredevil stood at the top of the building and looked down into the
alleyway below. "I can't believe he fell for that," the hero said as black
paint continued to drip from the paintbrush he still held in his hand. Some
people just were not cut out for the supervillain business.
As Daredevil put the brush and Braille-marked can of black paint back
within the confines of his robes, he focused his radar sense on the
demolished car below. He could sense the strong heartbeats of all three
riders, and that they were currently pinned in the car by the airbags that
had erupted on impact. There were even ones in the backseat, curiously
enough.
The sound of sirens became louder as several police cars pulled into the
mouth of the alleyway. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, and
knew it almost finishing setting. Deciding to allow the authorities to mop
up, the superhero known as Daredevil, the Man Without Fear, headed towards
a certain pool hall in Nerima, where he was expected by someone whom it was
unwise to disappoint.