Week 27.2 – Plan D

Posted on April 24, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: After their ice cream truck was shot down, Metalord saved Digger from splattering on the pavement, but was injured himself in the process. And now…

When Digger came to, the world was rocking. If the world is rocking, don’t come a-knocking…

He let out a tiny giggle as he opened his eyes. He was in an ambulance with a head full of cotton and Cole.An ugly purple bruise covered Cole’s side where the shells had struck him. A uniformed policeman sat between them. He looked at Digger with dark, unreadable eyes.

Digger suppressed another giggle. They had obviously shot him up with something while he was unconscious. The air felt fuzzy, and the engine was humming an almost recognizable tune under the louder singing of the siren.

He didn’t know where they were taking him, but it was probably somewhere bad. He needed to find a way off the ambulance before they arrived at their intended destination.

The sirens cut off, and Digger felt the ambulance decelerating, its engine shut down. The drivers babbled at each other and got out to take a look at the engine as their guard turned to watch.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]It took two tries to get his hand to move, but Digger grabbed the guard’s pistol and sat up. The man was smart enough not to fight with the barrel pointing straight between his eyes…[/blockquote]It took two tries to get his hand to move, but Digger grabbed the guard’s pistol and sat up. The man was smart enough not to fight with the barrel pointing straight between his eyes. Digger gestured the guy out the back door of the ambulance, and once he was out, Digger stood up to scramble into the driver’s seat.

He glanced back and saw handcuffs attached to the rails of the cot he’d been on. Silly of the cop not to attach them to his wrists.

Digger sat in the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life as soon as he set his hands on the steering wheel, but Digger couldn’t see around the open hood. As he had the thought, the hood closed like a chomping mouth, like a hungry, hungry hippo. The two drivers jumped back as the siren started to scream, then Digger put the ambulance into gear and stomped on the gas. The ambulance leaped forward like a cheetah chasing prey, the siren bawling out an aria about a crying child. The tune was catchy, so Digger sang along at the top of his lungs. “Waah-waah, waah-waah…”

“What the hell, man?” Cole plopped into the passenger seat, still nude. “Where are my clothes?”

“Burned off by the missile, I think,” Digger said. “Just relax. I’ll drive us for a while.”

“Like hell.” Digger heard the engine rev as the wheels left the ground, but a couple of seconds later, the ambulance bounced back to earth and Cole put his head on the dash. “Ah, shit. I feel like hell.”

“Really? Cause I feel awesome!” Digger said. “I don’t know what they shot me up with, but being high kicks ass.”

Cole looked in the rear view mirror. “Well, enjoy it while you can, because there are five or six cop cars following us.”

Digger smiled and petted the dash. “Relax. We got this.”

Which is when the old lady stepped into the crosswalk in front of them.

What will happen next? Will she be pushing a stroller full of cans? Be sure to join us for tomorrow’s exciting episode, and tell your friends!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Week 27.1 – Plan D

Posted on April 23, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: Twain was shot during an interrogation by Biryukov, the bald Russian, while Digger was falling from a flying ice cream truck. An ice cream  truck that had just exploded with Metalord inside. And now…

As Digger fell, he saw the shards of the exploded truck curve through the air and circle back toward their origin. The cloud of smoke from the explosion was shredded by a thousand whirling fragments. And in the center of the whirling maelstrom, a human figure coated with white-painted bits of metal, some scorched, some still bearing colorful traces of shredded decals advertising frozen treats.

The firing of the AA batteries had stopped with the explosion from the missiles, but as Metalord accelerated down toward the plummeting Digger, he jerked to the side as tracers pounded into him. Digger heard his grunts of pain above the sounds of impact, but Metalord was apparently a lot tougher than Digger thought, because the shells didn’t penetrate. He spun and gestured and the tracers veered around them. Digger felt himself pressing back into the cushioned seat as his fall slowed. He turned his head to see where the anti-aircraft fire was coming from and saw tracers shoot down from the sky to their point of origin. A small cloud of dust rose and the firing stopped.

Metalord had drawn close to Digger’s falling seat by this time. They were still falling, though slowly decelerating. Metalord apparently wanted to avoid any more fire by flying just above the rooftops. Digger looked back over his shoulder and saw the ground closer than he expected and coming up faster than he liked.

“You are going to stop us before we hit the ground, right?” Digger shouted.

Metalord groaned. “Yeah, just give me a sec…”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]He turned his head to see where the anti-aircraft fire was coming from and saw tracers shoot down from the sky to their point of origin. A small cloud of dust rose and the firing stopped…[/blockquote]Digger’s chair slammed into the ground. Digger’s head snapped back and smacked the pavement. and everything went black.

He came back to mumbling voices that he couldn’t understand. A small crowd was forming around them. Everybody looked Asian, for some reason.

Oh yeah, China. He groaned and tried to get out of his mangled seat, but he was still strapped to it. A man who had been coming forward with one hand outstretched jumped back. Had he been trying to help, or looking to steal Digger’s valuables? Not that Digger had any valuables for him to steal.

Digger didn’t care. He unsnapped the seat belt and rolled out of the seat with a groan.He climbed slowly to his feet. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t ache and protest every movement, and when he touched the back of his head, his hand came away wet with blood. The crowd shrank back from him. Digger heard sirens approaching. They needed to get out of here.

He looked around for Metalord, saw Cole lying naked on the ground surrounded by white metal fragments from several inches long to tiny shreds. The T-shirt and shorts he’d been wearing had burned away in the explosion, apparently. Digger had wondered what limits Metalord had, if any. Apparently, they had been reached. He bent to help Cole up, but everything got twisted and he ended up on the ground beside him, the world swimming around him.

Will Digger and Cole end up in Chinese custody after all? Join us tomorrow for our next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Super Movies – Howard the Duck

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Besides co-creating Omega the Unknown, Steve Gerber also wrote what some consider the defiinitive run of issues of Marvel’s Man-Thing. And in one of Gerber’s Man-Thing stories, he introduced a talking humanoid duck named Howard, who went on to star in his own series, Howard the Duck. And in 1986, Howard the Duck became the first Marvel character to be adapted to the big screen (with the exception of Captain America, who had appeared in a Republic serial in 1944). Not Spider-Man, not the Fantastic Four, not the Hulk: Howard the Duck.

The film was produced by George Lucas, who hired his American Graffiti co-writers, Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, to write and direct. The result was what some have called the worst film of all time.

So how bad is it? Strap in and let’s find out.

The opening shot lets us know it’s a George Lucas production with a subtle nod to Star Wars.

Only this time it’s two moons instead of two suns. And I love the double reflections on the water.

We see someone coming home to a dark apartment, and it’s apparent there’s something wrong: all of the pictures and movie posters in the apartment depict ducks, along with bird puns (like the Raiders of the Lost Ark parody poster titled Breeders of the Lost Stork). Although they didn’t make everything a parody; one of the books on Howard’s shelves is Traitor’s Purse by Margery Allingham. The owner of the apartment is Howard T. Duck, according to his mail.

And right off, we can see one of the big problems with the movie: a bland lead character. And yes, part of the problem is simply the technical limitations of putting an animatronic mask on a midget, but the bigger problem is the way they have softened both the visual design and the personality of Howard to make him more appealing. His face is nondescript, and the voice by Chip Zien is yawn-inducing. There are moments of spark, but for the most part, Howard is dull.

So as Howard is drinking a beer and ogling the latest issue of Playduck, suddenly the building begins to shake and Howard’s chair is suddenly yanked backwards through the wall. He smashes through a couple of other apartments, and we see something that no human being should ever have to see in this or any other lifetime. Duck nipples.

She also has hair under that towel, which is another weird aspect of Duckworld–some ducks have hair.  Howard is dragged up into space and into a wormhole, where narrator Richard Kiley talks about the vastness of the universe as the title appears. And if you look closely at the title above, you can see a support strut between “the” and “Duck,” because they built the title as a physical model so they could rotate it.

Howard ends up crashing down to our Earth in an alley, landing in an easy chair much like the one he was grabbed from (but filthier). He is found by some weird-looking punks and dragged into a club where a band called Cherry Bomb is playing, led by Beverly Switzler (Lea Thompson).  I may be in the minority, but I really like the songs Thomas Dolby wrote for the film, and I think Lea Thompson does a really good job on them. She has a powerful voice, and the movie was made before the advent of the modern diva, so it’s without endless tuneless trilling, thank God.

Howard is thrown out of the club and has a series of nightmarish adventures which end with him hiding from the world in a garbage can. He comes out to save Beverly, who’s being harassed by a couple of morons (randomly harassing morons are a continuing feature of the script).

Howard drives away the morons with his mastery of quack fu. Yes, it’s a lame gag, but it’s actually Gerber’s lame gag from the comics, where it was a parody of Marvel’s Shang Chi, Master of Kung Fu. But you’re right, it’s lamer here, divorced from its context.

Beverly thanks Howard and takes him back to her place, where they awkwardly get to know each other. She says she knows a scientist who might be able to help Howard get back home. Then after Howard goes to sleep, she goes through his wallet–duck photos, credit cards with lame puns, and this.

Yeah, there’s a host of cheap gags to be made here. I can’t pick just one, so fill in three or four of your own, then join me in the next paragraph.

The next morning, Howard takes Beverly to see her friend Phil.

Yeah, although I don’t think the movie is quite as bad as everyone says, I don’t thank it for inflicting Tim Robbins on me. Phil’s a lab assistant at a natural history museum, and he thinks he’s going to get rich by discovering Howard. Howard doesn’t want to be exploited, so he leaves the museum and tells Beverly to leave him alone.

He goes on to get a job at a hot tub parlor, but it doesn’t last long. And as he’s wandering home, he passes the alley with the chair he landed in, across the street from the club where Cherry Bomb is playing. It’s fate. Howard goes into the club and beats up the group’s sleazy manager, with help from an odd bartender who really can’t act.

That’s singer-songwriter Thomas Dolby, who composed the songs for the film. That’s as close as you’ll get to a Stan Lee cameo, because that wasn’t a thing yet.

Howard goes backstage to see Beverly and meet her bandmates, including these two.

The one on the left is Holly Robinson (now Holly Robinson Peete), soon to star with a young Johnny Depp on 21 Jump Street. The girl on the right is Liz Sagal, sister of Katey Sagal from Married… With Children and Futurama. Liz and her twin sister Jean had their own sitcom for a couple of seasons titled Double Trouble, then they went their separate ways to carve out their own careers in show biz. Liz’s latest gig is as a writer and story editor on the FX network series Sons of Anarchy, starring sister Katey and Ron Perlman.

Phil shows up to tell Howard that he thinks he has solved the mystery of Howard’s arrival. He leaves for a secret rendezvous with a colleague who can tell him more. Howard goes home with Beverly.

And so far, it’s been a bland, mostly lame comedy with a few nice moments, but nothing that you could single out as “Worst Movie of All Time” material. But things are about to take a really bizarre turn.

See you next week for Part Two.

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Out of the Vault – The Defenders #76-77

Posted on April 21, 2012 by Tony Frazier

This has been a long time coming. I’ve been intending to cover these two issues ever since I first started the Vault over at They Stole Frazier’s Brain in April of 2008. That first Out of the Vault was a recap of the 70’s Marvel series Omega the Unknown, written by Steve Gerber and Mary Skrenes and pencilled by Jim Mooney.

You may not want to click that link right away, because the article gives spoilers about what wil be covered in this article. So…

Omega was a weird comic, featuring a character who was superficially Superman (superpowered last survivor of a destroyed alien race who flees to Earth in a blue and red costume). Only the character (whose name we never actually learn–the Daily Bugle dubs him “Omega” because of his headband, but his landlord calls him Sam) can shoot fire out of his hands and shares a strange mental bond with a 12-year-orphan named James-Michael Starling… whose dead parents were robots. Yeah.

The comic lasted 10 issues, in which James-Michael learned about the mean streets of Hell’s Kitchen while Omega fought low-level crime lords and a mentally challenged handyman. The final issue was cover-dated October 1977, in which James-Michael went back to his parents’ old house in Pennsylvania and found their robot duplicates, while Omega went to Vegas and was gunned down by cops. The final panel promised that Omega’s story would be wrapped up soon in The Defenders (which Gerber had also been writing).

But it didn’t happen. A year or so after the last issue, it was announced that Omega would actually be wrapped up in Captain America, which Gerber had been assigned to. But Gerber’s run on Cap only lasted four issues, so Omega’s story remained unfinished until The Defenders #76, cover dated October 1979, exactly two years after the final issue of Omega’s own series.

This final story did not involve any of the original creators. Writer Steven Grant replaced Gerber and Skrenes while Herb Trimpe handled the pencils. Gerber was reportedly not happy with the way Grant wrapped up the story.

The story actually started to wrap up a couple of issues earlier. In the final issues of Omega, James-Michael’s guardians, Amanda and Ruth, were being menaced by a super-villain known as Foolkiller. The Defenders saved Amanda from Foolkiller in issues #74 and #75 before disbanding. Valkyrie and Hellcat were then asked on the last page of #75 to help find James Michael, who had been missing for a week. That’s right–although the previous issue had published two years earlier, Grant set the current story only a week after the last one (figuring it wouldn’t matter since Omega hardly ever dealt with the larger Marvel Universe).

So as issue #76 opens, Valkyrie and Hellcat are taking Amanda and boyfriend to Pennsylvania on an Avengers Quinjet piloted by the Wasp (who offered to help since Hellcat was a former Avenger). One unique thing about the Defenders, as opposed to the Avengers or the Justice League or even the Legion of Super-Heroes, was that they really didn’t have any official organization, so there was no official membership roster. Whoever showed up that issue was a Defender, it seemed.

So the Sisterhood of the Travelling Quinjet are nearing James-Michael’s home when they run into a fleet of flying saucers and decide to follow them instead, fearing an alien invasion of Earth. Meanwhile, James-Michael and his young girlfriend are attacked by alien robots (the same robots that Omega fought in issue #1 of his own book) who intend to destroy something called X-32, which is apparently Omega (who’s still dead in Las Vegas).

The alien robots are surprised to find James-Michael, and even more surprised that he can do this…

Which was Omega’s big trick, shooting fire out of his palms. Meanwhile, Ruby Thursday has stolen Omega’s body from the Las Vegas morgue with the intention of dissecting him and the Defenda-Babes have followed the flying saucers to… James-Michael’s house. They have a big fight with the alien robots, which they are on the verge of losing when two things happen.

This chick shows up…

Her name is Moondragon and she’s the second most annoying female character in the Marvel Universe (the first, of course, being Mantis, an avatar of Steve Englehart’s Cosmic Madonna who always refers to herself as “this one”).

And the second thing is, James-Michael disappears in a flash of light and in his place, they find the dead Omega. Weird.

Which leads up to issue #77, in which case ‘weird’ doesn’t begin to…

Okay, so Ruby Thursday is really mad, because she was just about to dissect Omega’s android body to learn the secret of his weaponry when it suddenly disappeared and left a 12-year-old James-Michael instead. And meanwhile, the Defenda-Babes are walking down the main drag in Las Vegas looking for a sign of James-Michael.

At which moment an alien robot comes crashing out through a wall, thanks to Ruby Thursday’s demonic assistant Dibbuk. The battle is joined between Ruby and the Defenders, as James-Michael wanders off, dazed and blowing flying saucers out of the sky as he begins to glow. Moondragon follows him and telepathically learns from one of the alien robots the reason they want to kill him. And it involves the Defenders being on the wrong side.

Meanwhile, the battle with Ruby Thursday takes an odd twist.

Oh my God, that’s completely non-gory and yet disgusting. The Defenda-Babes discover that both James-Michael and Moondragon are gone, so they follow the trail of destruction to find Moondragon on the ground as a glowing James-Michael destroys everything in his path, almost including the Avengers Quinjet where his girlfriend is. News of her jeopardy shakes James-Michael out of his destructive trance, and then a recovered Moondragon saves the day with… EXPOSITION!

We are then treated to a four-page origin story/flashback in which we learn that the robots are an advanced alien race who created a series of human-like androids in the hopes of allowing their race to flourish in flesh. Each android in the series was supposed to live and learn and pass its knowledge up the chain to the ultimate recipient, James-Michael.

The problem was that the next-to-last android, Omega, lived on a planet where the local inhabitants gifted him with amazing superpowers that drew upon the planet’s biological energy, ultimately destroying the planet. Only now, Omega is dead and his powers have passed to James-Michael. James-Michael is willing to destroy the planet to end his own misery, except for one thing.

So James-Michael kills himself, and Moondragon calls the Defenders idiots and leaves, and then the fans, if they haven’t already, throw the comic across the room.

Because while Grant’s scenario painstakingly flashes back upon several points in the chronology of the original series to explain the lingering questions, the story felt like a total betrayal. In the original series, James-Michael was a likable kid just coming of age and trying to find his way through the maze of adult life without parents to help guide him. And Omega was a cool guy who seemed to be trying to do the right thing.

What we (or at least I) wanted in a finale was to see Omega somehow survive or revive from that shooting and protect James-Michael from the robots while helping him find some sort of closure around his parents’ death and find a path to adulthood. Instead what we got was Omega’s dead body being carted around, robot head guts spilling into the street, James-Michael turning out to be the bad guy and finding closure by killing himself, with freaking Moondragon as the bald green cherry on that shit sundae of a story.

And the art didn’t help. Trimpe at one time was one of the most interesting pencillers Marvel had, but this was a really stagnant phase of his career, quality-wise, and the crappy inkers they stuck him with didn’t help. It also didn’t help that what felt like a three-issue story got shoehorned into two.

Which ultimately leads us to this: if a story you love gets canceled before it finishes, it may in fact be a blessing. Because they could have ended it like Omega.

Tomorrow: another Steve Gerber comic that got made into a movie.

Posted in Out of the Vault | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Week 26.5 – Good Cop, Bad Cop

Posted on April 20, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: After learning of the golden mask’s ability to steal powers, Biryukov shot Twain. And now…

Twain’s chair fell back as the shots rang out, three of them. Yi Fan flinched back as something wet hit her face. Her head rang with feedback.

She barely heard herself cry out as she threw herself down beside Twain. His breathing was a labored wheeze and though his shirt was dark, her palm came away dripping red. “What have you done?” she yelled at Biryukov.

“Cleared away an obstacle,” Biryukov said calmly. “He had nothing useful left to offer, but knew enough to present a problem.”

“I should kill you,” Yi Fan said.

“Too bad the mask has robbed you of that chance,” Biryukov said, his voice quavering as if he were fighting not to laugh. “Give me the mask now.”

“Yi Fan,” Twain gasped.

She bent low over him. His cheek twitched as her tears fell close to his eye. “Yes?”

“M–mask,” he wheezed, then coughed a spray of red across the cement floor.

“Don’t talk,” she said, stroking his face. “I’ll get the healer. I’ll…”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]Yi Fan swung the heavy mask at Biryukov’s head, but he got an arm up to block it. His hand grabbed her throat and shoved her back against the wall of the narrow room…[/blockquote]She felt the hard barrel of Biryukov’s pistol press against the side of her head. “I told you to give me that mask.”

“Powers…”

“Why don’t you kill me and take it, then?”

“Not gone…”

“Because I can think of much better uses for you, once I’m in power here,” Biryukov said.

“Put on… mask….” Twain coughed up more blood.

Biryukov stroked back a stray lock of hair with the barrel of the pistol. “You know, you look so much better without that scar.”

Yi Fan shieked and lunged up against Biryukov. The pistol fired, but the shot went wild. Yi Fan swung the heavy mask at Biryukov’s head, but he got an arm up to block it. His hand grabbed her throat and shoved her back against the wall of the narrow room, between two sets of shelves. And then he had the pistol aimed at her face.

“That’s the problem with mercy,” he said. “Nobody ever appreciates it.”

Yi Fan froze, terrified, looking at death: black, round and imminent. There was a muffled thump off to her left. Biryukov glanced back at Twain, and annoyance was replaced by confusion. Yi Fan followed his gaze. She couldn’t see clearly through the shelves, but Twain and the chair were gone, replaced by two olive-green duffel bags.

***

Twain felt the impacts, two of them like hard knuckle punches in his chest that left him breathless. He felt a third shot whiz past his face as he fell, and then he was on the floor, with blood filling his lungs and Yi Fan’s tears on his face. He tried to tell her that she could get her powers back, whatever they were, but he wasn’t sure she heard. Then there was a struggle, and while the bald man’s attention was turned away from him, Twain flipped.

He rolled easily to his feet, prepared to disarm the Russian, when there was a loud growl and a flying body slammed him across the room.

Okay, so Twain’s not quite dead yet. Whew! Meanwhile, Digger’s falling to his death from that exploded, flying ice cream truck! Watch Digger die (probably) in next week’s exciting chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Week 26.4 – Good Cop, Bad Cop

Posted on April 19, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: Yi Fan tried on the mask and ended up naked and powerless. Biryukov thinks the mask is a weapon intended to assassinate the Cobalt Czar. And now…

“Kill the Czar?” Yi Fan asked incredulously. “No one would dare.”

“Someone obviously does,” Biryukov replied. “Think about it. The Czar is the most dangerous man alive, incredibly lethal and almost impossible to hurt. But if you had a device that could take that away from him, make him ordinary…”

“But who would want to?” Yi Fan asked.

Biryukov laughed. “Who wouldn’t?  The world tolerates our little paradise here because they are afraid of him, but they would all like to see our master fall. The question is, who figured out how to do it?”

“I’ll ask him,” Yi Fan said, turning to Twain. She suddenly realized just how naked she was in this room with the Czar’s pet torturer, and not just physically. The curse that no longer haunted her also no longer protected her. She desperately wanted to go to her room–she had somehow convinced Biryukov to do a preliminary interrogation here at her home, rather than the Czar’s dungeon farther away–and change clothes while she got her thoughts in order.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]His face twisted as his body grew larger and bluer, and black hair sprouted from his head. Soon, he was the spitting image of the Czar…[/blockquote]But she was afraid to leave Twain alone with the cruel Russian.

“Don’t bother,” Biryukov said. “I don’t care.”

“Why not?” Yi Fan asked.

“Because I’m going to do what this man failed to do,” Biryukov drew a pistol from under his jacket and aimed it at Yi Fan. “I’m going to use the mask to rob the Czar of his powers and then kill him.”

“But why?” Yi Fan asked, staring at the pistol. “As soon as the other nations discovered he was dead, they wouldn’t hesitate to attack.”

Biryukov smiled. “No, they won’t. Because they won’t know.”

His face twisted as his body grew larger and bluer, and black hair sprouted from his head. Soon, he was the spitting image of the Czar. Twain gasped at the sight.

“What good will that do?” Yi Fan asked. “You can only assume his appearance, not his powers.”

“I’ll bluff. The nations fear him enough to leave us alone in all but the most desperate of situations.” Biryukov shrugged. “And if they do call his bluff someday, I’ll have a fortune laid aside. Live in luxury in the south of France or someplace. Then they can nuke this place flat for all I care. Give me the mask.”

She clutched the mask tighter against her pubes. “No. We should give the Czar the mask. He would reward us for our loyalty.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Biryukov said. “He would more likely kill us to keep the mask a secret, since it’s the only weapon that could possibly hurt him. Even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t reward you, who took his most valuable servant from him.”

Yi Fan cursed. Biryukov was right. The curse was what made her valuable to the Czar; he would not share her joy at its loss.

“What are you talking about?” Twain asked.

“He wants the mask,” Yi Fan said.

“Give it to…” Twain jerked as shots echoed loudly in the small room.

Whoa, wait, what? You don’t want to miss our next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Week 26.3 – Good Cop, Bad Cop

Posted on April 18, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: Biryukov suggested that Yi Fan try on the golden mask of El Coco. And now…

“Why me?” Yi Fan asked.

“Because he doesn’t expect it,” Biryukov said, looking at Twain, who was sweating and shivering from the sudden shock of having his finger broken.

“If one of us puts the mask on, will it hurt us?” Yi Fan asked Twain.

“No,” Twain said, panting. “It’s disorienting, but not harmful.”

Yi Fan looked at his face for a long moment, searching for deception. Then she picked up the mask. “Okay.”

She placed it over her face, and the room spun madly as her head filled with the ringing of a distant chime. When her head cleared, she lay on the floor, shivering and cold.

Distantly, she heard Biryukov laughing, and then his hands were grasping her arm, the one that wasn’t still pressing the mask against her face. He lifted her to her feet, surprisingly strong for such a slim man. “That is wonderful,” he exclaimed. “I have no idea what this fellow was trying to accomplish, but I am so glad that we tried it on you rather than me!”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]For a moment, she remained calm; everything felt so dreamlike, and finding yourself suddenly naked like this was not uncommon in dreams. But this was not a dream…[/blockquote]Yi Fan suddenly realized what felt so wrong and looked down to confirm what her goose-pimpling skin was telling her. For a moment, she remained calm; everything felt so dreamlike, and finding yourself suddenly naked like this was not uncommon in dreams. But this was not a dream. She shrieked and pulled the mask down to cover her pubic hair.

She heard Biryukov gasp, saw Twain was staring at her in wonderment. Could he be starting to feel for her the way he’d told her he would? Had this been the catalyst? This?

She threw her free arm across her breasts and said, “Stop staring at me!”

“Liu Yi Fan,” Biryukov breathed. “Your face…”

“My face?” she repeated, putting a hand up to her scar as she so often did when she felt self-conscious. “So you’ve noticed I still have a…”

Her skin was smooth. The scar was gone.

She looked wonderingly at Birykov. “My hair?”

“Black as can be,” he said. “Not a hint of white. What about…?”

She searched within herself and found nothing. Only blessed silence. “It’s gone. The curse has been lifted. It’s gone!”

She lunged at Biryukov and hugged him happily, forgetting herself in the joy of the moment. Then she turned to Twain, tears in her eyes. She stepped around the table and caressed his sweaty face. “You’ve given me my life back. Thank you.”

She kissed him softly, and though he was still surely in great pain, she felt him beginning to respond.

“Fascinating,” Biryukov said behind her. “This explains so much.”

The moment of elation passed, and Yi Fan felt a sudden panic as she drew back from Twain. “What does it explain?” she asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice, though she knew Biryukov could sense it no matter how well hidden.

“What this man is doing here,” Biryukov said. “He has a mask that steals powers. He has come to kill the Czar!”

What can Twain and Yi Fan do now? Join us tomorrow for our next thrilling episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Week 26.2 – Good Cop, Bad Cop

Posted on April 17, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: Twain was being interrogated by Biryukov, the bald Russian, and Yi Fan. And now…

As Yi Fan drew her hand back to slap Twain again, Biryukov intervened. “A word, please,” he said in Russian.

They drew back near the door. “This is a most fascinating situation,” Biryukov said. “Everything is backward. He should be terrified, but he is not. He seems confident that he can get out of this predicament. And when I showed him the mask, the physical evidence of his wrongdoing, he became even more confident. He tried to hide it, but there’s a secret behind the mask that he thinks will save him.”

Yi Fan looked at the golden mask on the table. “You want me to make him tell you about the mask, then.”

“Yes, of course,” said Biryukov. “But that’s not the really fascinating thing. The really fascinating thing, the one that I’m dying to get to bottom of, is that even though he’s not afraid, you are. And I have never sensed fear from you before. Why is that, I wonder?”

Before Yi Fan could come up with a retort, Biryukov had turned back to the prisoner. “Ask him about the mask again,” he said, running his fingers along its edges. “What is it for?”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]“Tell me something he’ll believe, or I’ll have to start doing things worse than this.” She grabbed the little finger on his right hand and yanked it back, hard. Twain screamed as bone snapped…[/blockquote]“Tell me about the mask,” Yi Fan said in Mandarin.

“Tell him I’m an archaeologist, chasing down an ancient legend,” Twain said. “I found the mask in a cave.”

“That’s not the truth,” Yi Fan said. “Where did it come from, really?”

“Just tell him what I told you,” Twain said.

“Not for him,” Yi Fan said. “For me.”

“Why?”

“Because when I met you for the first time, the future you, he was carrying that same bag you carried the mask in.”

For the first time, Twain’s composure slipped a little. “Um, okay. I’ll tell you, but it’s a long story. I’ll tell you when we’re alone, promise.”

“He says he found it in a cave in the hills,” Yi Fan told Biryukov in Russian. “”He’s an archaeologist.”

“He’s lying,” Biryukov said. “It’s neither Chinese nor Russian. I’d guess South American of some sort, though I’m no expert. Ask him again: what’s it for? And be persuasive this time.”

Yi Fan set her face in stone and walked around the small table. She bent low over Twain. “He knows you’re lying,” she said. “Tell me something he’ll believe, or I’ll have to start doing things worse than this.”

She grabbed the little finger on his right hand and yanked it back, hard. Twain screamed as bone snapped. Yi Fan grabbed him by the hair. “Tell me!”

“Let me put it on and I’ll show you,” Twain said.

When Yi Fan relayed the request, Biryukov said, “Of course not. It’s obviously a trick.”

“Then let him put it on,” was Twain’s reply.

Biryukov was intrigued by this. “Interesting. I wonder what it does, that it serves his purpose no matter which of us wears it?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Yi Fan said.

“Yes,” Biryukov agreed. “You put it on.”

What’s Twain’s plan? Join us tomorrow for the next suspenseful episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Week 26.1 – Good Cop, Bad Cop

Posted on April 16, 2012 by Tony Frazier

Previously: Twain was captured by the bald man, while Digger was falling to his death from a flying ice cream truck. And now…

When Twain came to, there was a hood over his head and plastic zip-ties binding his wrists to the arms of a chair. He smelled lettuce and heard a man’s voice muttering in Russian. A door closed, and a moment later, the hood was ripped off.

Instead of being seated in an interrogation room like the ones he’d seen on TV, Twain was in a pantry, shelves overflowing with produce.The bald man tossed the hood onto a folding card table set up in front of Twain’s seat and asked a question in Russian.

Twain weighed his options. Ari had told him the bald man was terrifying and cruel, but he hadn’t seen anything to back that up yet. Could Twain simply overpower the man and get away? Getting out of the chair was no problem, but if the bald man had powers, Twain would need weapons. He had several flipped away, but in the duffel bags where he couldn’t get them quickly. Better simply to wait until they put him in a cell somewhere. “I don’t speak Russian,” Twain said in English.

The bald man watched his face closely. He picked something up off the floor and dropped it onto the card table. The flimsy table shook under the thing’s weight. It was the gold mask. The bald man asked another question.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]He picked something up off the floor and dropped it onto the card table. The flimsy table shook under the thing’s weight. It was the gold mask…[/blockquote]Twain tried hard to keep the smile off his face. His weapons probem was solved. The Mask Twain was heavily armed and wearing body armor. If he could distract the bald man long enough to flip out of the chair and grab the mask, then it would be a whole new ballgame.

Except for one thing: the growling creature that had knocked him out. He was sure it was the same thing that had hit him outside the City of the Moon, bestial yet translucent, almost like a ghost. He needed to find out more about it before he attempted an escape. “I’m sorry. I told you, I don’t understand Russian.”

The bald man looked confused. He ran his fingers over the mask,, over the amulet taped to a depression in the forehead, as if he could divine its history and properties by touching it. Then he half-turned and said something to the door behind him.

The door opened. Yi Fan stepped in, stone-faced. “He wants to know if  you understand Chinese,” she said in Mandarin.

“You mean you haven’t told him already?”

She stepped around the card table and slapped him across the face. “You obviously don’t understand Chinese, because if you did, you would still be safe!”

“There’s no safe place here,” Twain said.

The bald man was watching them intently, a small smile playing on his face. He said something in Russian.

“Tell us about the mask,” Yi Fan said. “Where did it come from? Why were you carrying it?”

“It’s an ancient treasure,” Twain said. “I found it in a kitchen.”

Yi Fan slapped him again. “Tell the truth. Our lives depend on it!”

Can Twain trust Yi Fan to get him out of this? And if so, how will she manage it? Be here tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Hiatus

Posted on April 9, 2012 by Tony Frazier

I’ve been trying to put it off to the end of Week 26, but it just has to happen this week. Run, Digger, Run! is going to go on a one-week hiatus while I get some plotting issues fixed, correct some typos, and do some other general spring cleaning/link maintenance. That doesn’t mean there won’t be posts here during the week, but they won’t be part of the plot. Sorry for the delay and thank you for sticking with me so far.

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