Ultimate S.H.A.D.E. #9: The Good, the Bad, and

[jackalope]

Ultimate S.H.A.D.E. #9
The Good, the Bad, and the Weird pt. 3

Tommy Greenhill looks at the man that sits down beside him. A stale smell lingers around him. The man looks at him briefly, giving him a giant crooked grin then returning his unshaven face forward. Tommy turns forward as well, internally wishing that he hadn't opted to sit right at the front. The bar lowers over his shoulders and lap. The man behind the control panel looks with boredom at the fun junkies then hits the lever. A grinding sound creaks underneath and the train cars shunt forward. Tommy glances once more to the strange companion, who is looking intently at the tracks ahead, his wild messy hair starting to blow behind him. The roller coaster starts to climb up the first peak.

Behind him, Tommy hears the nervous anticipation of the coming descent. It's the first time he's been tall enough to ride 'the Hurlinator' and the excitement was certainly fighting the nervousness in his stomach. He pushed himself back into the seat behind him. The peak nears. The man beside him shifts awkwardly. The final creaks signalled the apex of the first peak. The man stands up.

Tommy looks up at the thin man in the old tweed suit, who somehow stood now at the top of the Hurlinator and looked out over the amusement park.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy asks, horrified. The man looks at him, seemingly confused by the question. The train plunges downwards. Everyone, but the standing man, screams.



Eddie Rizzo moves the toothpick to the side of his mouth and looks at his two blurry grey passengers.

“...You know most people would see a couple weirdoes like you and say to themselves, fuck that, I don't get paid enough to put up with this kind of messed up shit, but ol' Eddie here, he looks at you guys and he says, now this is gonna' be a ride. You see, I'm a fuckin' taxi driver. The original. They don' make 'em like me anymore. I've worked all over this fine country. Washington, Metropolis, New York, Gateway, Chicago, Keystone- ol' Flash city I call it, Star City, don' even get me started on Gotham.”

“We shalls not.” The Macrolatts answer in unison.

Eddie switches his toothpick to the other side of his mouth and cracks a smile. “See? You guys fucking kill me, pay me in gold to drive you across the country, then you make jokes the whole way. I love my fuckin' job!”

In the passenger seats, the grey creatures turned their eyeless heads to look at one another.

“So anyway in Gotham there's this fuckin' urban legend about a giant bat, I know what you're thinking- the government, but here's where you got it wrong, the government is too busy working on covering up what they did on the moon. Now don' get me started on the moon, let's just say, I've stopped eating certain brands of cheese, if you know what I mean. Know what brands? I'll give you three guesses, you won’t guess...”

One of the Macrolatts lifts the disintegrator gun and points at the back of the taxi driver's head. The other lifts his hand and slowly shakes its head. The first drops the weapon back down somehow managing to look disappointed with almost no facial features.

“...Do you want to know the real reason greys probe us?...”



“Wakey wakey.”

Mr Recluse opens his drowsy eyes and tries to focus on the room. “Wher...where am I?”

Bride walks past and stops, leaning back against the wall. She turns her head out into the dark half of the room, from which footsteps approach. Father Time, bruised and bandaged, walks to the edge of the light, using an umbrella as a cane, and pulls up a chair. He calmly breaths out and sits.

The brown suited Mr Recluse, looks down at the ropes that bind him, then back up at his two captors. He smiles. Turning to the Bride he winks, then he turns back to Time, wobbling slightly with the after effects of the drugs. “You haven't healed yet. That's interesting.”

A black suited figure suddenly steps into the light and offers a white cup and saucer to Father Time, then steps back into the darkness silently. The Indian gentleman crosses his leg, and takes a sip of the tea. “We have some questions.” His eyes flick up from over his cup. “We hoped you could answer.”

The bound man grins. “I bet you do. I take it you're low on mind readers right now, I'd offer to lend you one of S.P.I.D.E.R.s' but somehow,” he looks up at the light shining down brightly at him, “I doubt you take me up on it.” Bride starts tapping her foot, her arms crossed across her chest. Mr Recluse shrugs slightly. “But if you want I can call them, if you could just lend me a phone...”

Father Time takes another sip. “What compound did you poison my agent with? We have tested against every spider toxin we can find...”

“A little obvious don't you think?” Mr Recluse shakes his head. “No I'm afraid that’s not something you'll find so simply, it's something of a trade secret that one.”

“You're deal with the Macrolatts, what was it? Where did they say they were headed?” Father Time brings the cup down to his lap.

“Now that was two questions, what order would you want me to answer them in, that is if I do answer them?” Bride's foot tapping becomes faster, as her hands grip her arms with increasing strength. “And thinking about it I don't even know what you're talking about. Macrolatts? Sounds like an exercise product you'd buy off late night TV.”

“Who are the leaders of S.P.I.D.E.R.?” Father Time drains the last of the tea from his cup.

“Now why would I answer that one? Honestly, Time, I thought you would be better at this...”

The Bride's foot is tapping rapid speed now; the tension on her face seems to be cracking. Seething anger flashes briefly in her eyes. Time glances at her and her foot stops. He looks back to the captive. “Who is the mole you have planted in S.H.A.D.E.?”

Mr Recluse's face breaks out with glee. “A mole! Hahahaa, seriously? We got a mole in your organisation? Holy crap that must be embarrassing for you. When did this happen? How long? Boy, I wish I did know just so I could shake his hand.” He giggles to himself.

Father Time places the cup and saucer down gently on the ground beside him. He stands and walks a few steps towards the smiling Mr Recluse, swinging the umbrella lightly beside him. He stops and places the umbrella in front of him, leaning on it slightly. “I have asked you four questions.”

Mr Recluse nods. “Give or take.”

“Do you know why four is such an interesting number?”

Mr Recluse smugly bites his lip. “Sides on a square? Seasons in a year? No wait, number of Terminator films? Wait, wait, I've got this. Don't help me. It's the number of letters in cake.” He grins. The Bride bares her teeth.

Father Time shakes his head slowly. “It's the number of limbs you have. One question for every limb.” He raises his eyebrows.

Some of the cockiness falls away from behind Recluse's smiling face. He blinks. “What?”

Father Time leans closer to Mr Recluse. “When you were a kid did you ever torture bugs?” The question lingers between them for a moment before Time continues. “What do you call a fly with no wings? A walk. Funny joke eh? I mean they say that torturing small animals is a sign of a psychopath, but in my mind there's a difference between an animal, like a mouse or a kitten,” Time says, leaning until he was only inches from the captive's face, “and a crawling, lurking, poisonous, little bug...” Spittle flickers over Recluse. Father Time stands back up straight. “What do you call a spider with no legs?”

Mr Recluse's mouth is dry now. He drops his smile. “You wouldn't...”

Time purses his lips. “There won’t be any pain. Don't worry, we'll drug you up. You can even watch if you want. Maybe S.P.I.D.E.R. will hook you up with some bionic limbs. It could be the best thing that ever happened to you.” He walks back behind his chair and leans on its back. “Of course it'll be a little awkward hobbling around initially, I'll set you up with a skateboard if you want. It would be easier with at least an arm to push you around with. So you see if you answer just one question your life suddenly becomes that much easier... You can choose which question.”

Mr Recluse's nostrils flare. He glares at Bride then back at Time. “I'm sorry I won’t be able to help you.” His tongue moves around in his mouth. There's a crunching sound and he smiles one last time as the sound of cracking and fizzling buzzes inside of his mouth. He leans his head back as a white froth starts to foam at the edges of his mouth.

Bride looks to Father Time. He walks up and pokes the brown suited man with his umbrella. Mr Recluse falls forward with a yelp. “Sorry,” Time says, “we replaced the cyanide capsule with a pop rock candy capsule. Tastes good though huh?” Mr Recluse looks up with a snarl. He spits on the ground. “Do you know what else is interesting about the number four?” Father Time turns and walks into the shadows. “Four also happens to be the number of minutes you have to answer any questions you might wish to answer, before we start pulling legs.”

Bride moves over to the chair and sits down. A silent figure steps into the light and hands her a cup of coffee, then silently returns to the shadows.

“Now,” she says, “you were saying.”



Margo Hunter leans back as the lights dim. The turn-off-your-cell-phone ad starts playing and she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. There's a message from Danny on it. She flicks it open and smiles. Beside her Hannah leans over.

“What did he say?” she whispered. Margo shows her and Hannah smiles. “What are you going to send back?”

A man walks past them and sits down beside Margo.

“I dunno what should I say?” she whispers back.

The trailers start to play. A woman looking into the eyes of a handsome man. The strange sound of metal clinking against porcelain starts beside the two girls.

Hannah shrugs, “you should tell him that he has to answer first.” Margo giggles.

The sound of burping makes the girls turn. A gaunt, homeless looking man chews on a large piece of beef. On his lap is a large plate filled with food. Piled up sits roast potatoes and beef, pineapple, custard, cheese and jello. He continues chewing and smiles. He lifts the plate, offering it to the two girls.

“Uh, no thanks.”



Eddie pulls up to a crossroads. “So buddies, which way?”

The two passengers point right simultaneously. Eddie nods, “Right it is.” He indicates and turns, then turns his head. “So where were we? Oh, right, I spy with my little eye something the colour of brown.”

The brown cow standing in the grass paddock lifts its head, chewing, then suddenly disintegrates into dust.

Eddie chuckles. “You two are too much. Your turn.”



“How is she?”

Jules Brun wipes his eyes. “I've slowed it b... but whatever is in her is attacking her organs. I..I can't figure it out. I can't figure it out, it's right there but I can't see it, I'm trying. I can't figure it out.” He looks up though red eyes. “I can't figure it out.”

Father Time grips his shoulders. “We will save her Jules. You are the smartest man I know. You need to pull yourself together, for her.” Jules nods and walks back into the lab. Father Time watches the man shake slightly as he looked through a microscope.

“How is he?” Robotman asks.

Father Time continues to watch. “He's not coping; he's too close to her. His mind isn't working right.” He turns to Robert. “Any ideas on your side?”

“It's really not my area. We.re got the science boys working on it but nothing so far. Even Langstrom's had a look. I wish I could help but I'm no 'Brain'.”

Father Time nods. “What about on the Macrolatts problem?”

“I've got S.H.A.D.E.s' systems tracking air travel, energy signatures, stolen vehicles, as well as scanning for odd reports in the media and in police reports. Nothing so far.” Robotman shrugs helplessly. Father Time turns and starts to walk down the corridor. Robert calls, “What are you going to do?”

“Get the only other person who might be smarter than the 'Brain'.”



“...seems to be driven by some unknown force. Where did this unknown wrestler come from?”

“I don't know but he's been holding his own against Furious Frank and the Brick for a good ten minutes now. Whoever this weirdo is, the crowd seems to be loving him.”

In the ring the purple luchadore-masked man in the tweed suit climbed on to the corner post. Turning out to the crowd he lifts his arms, soaking in the audiences' chant.

“...WEIRD! WEIRD! WEIRD! WEIRD!!...”

Furious Frank grabs the newcomer’s foot and slams him back on to the ground. He stomps on the man's chest and drops to headlock him. He whispers harshly, “I wasn't told anything about you...” The Brick returns from outside the ring with a chair. The crowd cheers as he climbs through the rope and lines up his shot. He runs and Furious Frank leaps out of the way. The chair breaks, sending the newly dubbed 'the Weird' rolling backwards into the opposite ropes. He lies flat on the ground for a moment, before leaping back on to his feet and dancing on the spot. Furious Frank and the Brick link arms and run at him, clothes lining him sending his body into a huge spin which leaves him on the floor. Furious Frank flexes to the crowd.

The Brick points to the new wrestler threateningly, while whispering to Frank, “...he's really good.”
The Weird fakes trying to get up, before the Brick stomps him again. The crowd goes wild.

“Wow, another amazing match. Whoever he is, this new wrestler comes out of nowhere and takes on the two strongest in the business. They've certainly put him in his place, but he's definitely earned a place in the crowds' hearts.”

“Wwoooaaah WEEEIRD! Wwwoooah!”

“Yeah Tony, just hear them calling out his name. I've got no information about this guy, except that now he has a name, 'The Weird.' The ref is coming up now. He's going to call the match in favour of...”

The stadium shakes. The crowds’ cheering goes quiet as people look about. Another shake. The Weird stands up, his purple masked face turns around, jerking nervously from side to side. He rises off the ground, floating up slowly a few feet.

A wall bursts apart, leaving a huge hole and floating dust. People scream, the wrestlers run. A yellow taxi flies though, arcing straight for the ring. It hits the Weird directly from the air and crashes with him, pinning him to the centre of the ring. A hush descends over the stadium as people gaze at the smoking taxi standing on an angle. The Brick peeks between the ropes into the ring. The taxi front door drops open and a slightly hefty looking man crawls out, dropping on to the ring. He pushes himself to his feet and looks around. He looks to the cameras and waves.

“Look ma, I'm on TV. Your little Eddie's on TV.” He smiles and strokes his hand through his thinning greasy hair. Whomp. He disappears into a mist of shiny dust.

To blurry grey figures exit the taxi and stand either side of the Weird's pinned body. The point their disintegrators at him. The voice switches from one to the other then back again. “Escapalon designated 4772.ribble18q. You has been found broken laws 5889frix the 3rd and yoqurqurqurqur 4, you now could am sentenced.”

Someone in the crowd cheers. Soon the whole crowd is cheering. The commentators look at each other. “Now this is wrestling...”



“Medusa with me, Frankenstein, take Robotman and Manbat get down to Texas and stop them. Robotman will fill you in on what we know.” Father Time climbs up onto the ledge of a modern-looking black steam train and pulls Lyta up. He waves off Frankenstein and the others as they clamber onto their chopper and then slides shut the cabin door. The whistle blows and steam hisses as the train gains speed. Father Time walks to a hot teapot and pours a cup. He looks to Lyta, “Do you want one?”

“No thanks. Uh... Where are we headed?”

Father Time frowns. “To meet with someone I've been avoiding.”