Week 8.5 – Bite the Big Apple Corps

Previously: Digger and Twain were locked in battle with the Big Apple Corps. Twain fled, pursued by Invictus, while Digger faced off against Caveat Maledictor and Biggus Stickus. And now…

Digger dodged the swing, then grabbed Stickus and used his body to block another barrage of darts from Caveat’s pistols, which failed to penetrate Stickus’s bulletproof hide. Digger shoved Stickus at Caveat.

Caveat sidestepped easily and continued to shoot. Digger dodged again, and once again felt soft impacts on his legs, indirect vibrations from the darts hitting the loosely flapping skater jeans. Dozens of darts stitched up and down the denim fabric in ragged lines, but none penetrated Digger’s skin.

Stickus charged again and swung with all his might. Digger dropped to his knees and slid under the swinging bat, then sprang to his feet and grabbed it. Stickus tried to wrench the bat from Digger’s grip, but couldn’t.

Digger actually had surprisingly weak finger strength. The installation of the Driller Beam Generators had damaged most of the muscles and nerves in his forearms, leaving his fingers barely able to squeeze. But he had learned to use his clinging powers to compensate, so that once he locked his grip onto something, it would take a terrifying amount of force to tear it loose.

Digger spun Stickus around to block Caveat’s shots again, punched him hard under the arm as he kicked his knee. Stickus grunted, and Digger pivoted behind his back to rip the bat from his grasp.

Now it was Stickus’s turn to dodge. He threw a hard cross into Digger’s jaw. Digger used the momentum of the blow to spin around and whack Stickus in the temple with the bat. The bigger man staggered, and Digger shoved him back into a pile of wooden palettes stacked off to one side.

Carpe moaned as she pushed up onto all fours. Caveat’s pistols stuttered again, but Digger was already moving. He whacked Carpe in the head with the bat, knocking her out again, bounced off a wall and cartwheeled back to where Stickus was struggling to his feet. Digger latched onto a wooden palette with his foot and flung it at Caveat, then turned back to Stickus. Disoriented as he was, the big man was unable to defend himself against Digger’s onslaught. The bat seemed to be everywhere, concentrating on his weakest areas–ribs, knees, groin, temple. The point of the bat clacked up under his jaw and made him bite his own tongue.

And every time Caveat tried to intervene, he had to duck out of the way of some piece of detritus flung at him by Digger’s sticky feet.

Finally, Biggus Stickus, the Heavy Hitter, collapsed to the alley floor and didn’t move. Digger hit him three more times with the aluminum bat, now bloody and bent, before spinning to face Caveat.

“You think I’m nothing without my Drillers?,” Digger said. “The whole time I was in Hell, my Drillers didn’t work. I’m actually more dangerous without them now, because I don’t dare hold back. You want to find out how dangerous?”

The alley suddenly shook with an inhumanly loud scream. Digger recognized the voice. It was Invictus.

What has happened to the invincible Invictus? Find out next week in the next thrilling chapter of Run Digger Run!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to continue to next week’s episodes, click here!

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Week 8.4 – Bite the Big Apple Corps

 

Previously; Deus Ex Machina of the Big Apple Corps had Digger and Twain held in mental paralysis, when suddenly Digger hit Deus. And now…

Deus fell to the ground, unconscious. Digger smiled. “Next?”

Twain gasped as the paralysis lifted and he could move again. “Digger…”

“Since when can you resist Deus’s mind control?” Invictus interrupted.

Digger’s smile turned fierce and a little frightening. “You don’t fight your way back to Earth from Hell without developing a strong will. So can we discuss this like adults or…”

“YEEEE-HAWWW!” came a shout from Digger’s side, followed by a loud, rapid ticking.

Digger turned and saw Twain aiming a blocky rectangular pistol toward Carpe Noctem. Thin wires ran between the pistol and her torso. “Carpe Taser, darlin’!”

Twain pressed a red button on the modified taser, and the ticking became a loud POP! He dropped the pistol and ran away as Carpe screamed and fell to the ground.

“Two down,” Digger said and dodged a swing from Stickus’s bat.

Caveat ran to Carpe’s side as Invictus rose into the air, eyes glowing. “Can you two handle Digger for the half-minute it will take to subdue that tranny?” Invictus asked.

“Of course,” Caveat said, drawing twin pistols from holsters slung under his arms. “Without his Drillers, he’s nothing.”

“I’ll be right back,” Invictus said and shot off toward the end off the alley where Twain was just rounding the corner.

“Take your time,” Caveat muttered and fired both pistols at Digger.

They stuttered with a sound like a sewing machine with air brakes. Digger instinctively blocked with his Driller. He dodged to the side and noticed a dozen small needles hanging from the bandages  concealing the Driller. All coated with some type of toxin, he was sure.

Out of the corner of his eye, Digger saw Stickus running toward him, bat poised. He leaped and dodged, cartwheeling in the air as he tried to avoid the darts. He knew he couldn’t, though; Caveat wasn’t some rent-a-cop snoozing away his afternoons in a museum. He blocked the ones aimed at his upper body, but felt soft impacts against his legs. No pain or pricking, though he wasn’t sure if that was because the needles weren’t penetrating or because they were anesthetic.

And then Stickus was there, swinging his bat.

***

Twain had been so rattled by the encounter with the Big Apple Corps that he forgot to switch outfits right away when he rounded the corner out of the alley. He remembered within a few seconds, but when he glanced back to make sure it was all clear, he saw Invictus flying after him. Twain vaulted a car and sprinted for another alley mouth, hoping for somewhere to hide and change, but there was nothing.

And then a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and Invictus’s cold voice said, “There’s no use running. You can’t escape.”

His grip was inhumanly strong, and his glowing eyes were terrifying, but all Twain could remember was Invictus calling him a nothing. He looked into those glowing eyes and said, “You really want to let go now.”

“Not going to happen.”

Twain smiled.

What’s Twain planning against the invincible Invictus? Join us tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to continue to the next episode, click here!

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Week 8.3 – Bite the Big Apple Corps

 

Previously: Digger and Twain were trapped in an alley by the members of the Big Apple Corps. And now…

Twain turned to see a tall, slim black man in a white cape that surrounded his body like a robe. His arms protruded through two slits in the cape and were clasped in front of him like an opera diva about to launch into an aria from Madame Butterfly. The feminine cut of the cape, the elbow-length white satin gloves and the general elegance of his posture reminded Twain of some 60’s fashion icon, like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or something. All he needed was a cloche hat.

“Deus,” Digger said. “About time. I never got to thank you for helping me stop Hell on Earth.”

“I don’t need your thanks,” said Deus Ex Machina. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“So do we have to fight, or can I explain things first?”

“Neither,” Deus said. “You broke the law. There’s a warrant out for your arrest. As officers of the court, we can’t let that slide.”

“So we fight.”

“Sadly, no,” Deus said. “I have a deposition in just a few minutes. So as much as I would love to watch my partners take you apart, we’ll have to do this the quick way.”

He unclasped his hands to make a small gesture. Twain went for his second gun, the one holstered on his left side with the butt pointing forward for a cross-body draw, but no part of his body could move. He was paralyzed.

“Damn it, Everett, what do you think you’re doing?” asked Caveat.

“Code names, please,” Deus replied. “The cowgirl isn’t unconscious, just frozen. And like I said, I have an appointment.”

“What, you don’t think we could have handled the two of them?” asked Invictus as he and the others congregated around Deus. “They’re nothing.”

Twain was confused. All the articles he’d read about the Corps named Invictus as the leader, but they all seemed to defer to Deus. In fact, Invictus looked much less impressive now; his eyes were no longer glowing, and his voice had transformed from its terrifying thunder to something decidedly more pedestrian with a hint of Jersey in the accent. Plus, now that they were both at ground level, Twain noticed the receding hairline he couldn’t perceive when the man was hovering over his head. Twain wished he could get out of the paralysis for just a moment, so he could show Invictus just what surprises a nothing like him could spring.

“Digger’s dangerous,” Deus said.

“I can handle him,” Caveat muttered.

“Of course.” Deus walked up close to look into Digger’s eyes.  “Pity I don’t have more time to think of something interesting to do with you. Remember the chicken mask?”

Caveat laughed. “That was classic.”

Deus looked at his watch. “Well, I guess I still have a little time. Anybody have a Sharpie? I want to write ‘Loser’ on his…”

KONG!

“KONG” being the sound of Deus’s skull bouncing off a Driller Beam Generator. The assembled Corps members looked at him in shock.

Digger wasn’t frozen.

Looks like the fight has started! You don’t want to miss tomorrow’s exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to read the next episode, click here!

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Week 8.2 – Bite the Big Apple Corps

Previously: While making their escape from robbing the Kessler Museum, Digger and Twain encountered three members of the famous New York supergroup the Big Apple Corps. And now…

“Digger, maybe we should just tell them what’s going on,” Twain said. “If you explain things to them like you did to Stretcho…”

“Flexo.”

“Whatever. Maybe they’d let us go.” Twain hoped that would be the case, anyway. He hadn’t expected the Corps to show up so quickly. How had they managed it?

“Dude, we were able to do that with Flexo because he’s new. He’s easy to walk over, plus we get along. These guys,” Digger nodded toward the two men moving to flank them, “hate me.”

“Why?”

Digger pointed at Caveat. “Kicked his ass…”

“You cheated,” Caveat  snarled.

“Whatever. Which means I also kicked Fish Girl’s boyfriend’s ass.”

“My name is not…”

“And Stick,” Digger continued, pointing at Biggus Stickus, “I humiliated in front of some of his groupies. He chickened out before I could kick his ass.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” Stickus said. “There aren’t any women here for you to hide behind this time.”

“What about her?” Digger asked, pointing at Twain.

“She’s no her,” said another voice from above them, deeper and colder than any voice Twain had heard before. He looked up and recognized the leader of the Big Apple Corps, Invictus, descending toward them, dressed in a tight fitting uniform of deep blue with golden shoulder braids and a cape of royal purple. His eyes glowed a shade of blue only slightly lighter than his uniform.

This was a disaster, Twain realized. Caveat was dangerous, but barely above normal as far as powers went. Carpe was stronger, and Stickus stronger still, but neither was considered in the top tier of dangerous opponents. Digger might be able to handle one or even all of them, though it was questionable without being able to use his Drillers.

But Invictus was a different story altogether. His name meant “Unbeaten,” and he claimed to have never lost in a fair fight.

“Jeez, you guys are such divas,” Digger said, apparently unconcerned by the worsening odds. “You can’t just show up and fight. You’ve all got to make entrances.”

Invictus didn’t rise to the bait. “Slumming with norms now, Digger?”

“She’s a norm?” Stickus asked, pointing at Twain with his bat.

“Depends on your definition of norm, I guess,” Invictus said. “I personally don’t consider tranvestites all that normal. But he has no powers. Except…”

“What?” asked Caveat.

“There is a spark there,” Invictus said. “Perhaps a latent. Still, hardly worth bothering with.”

“What are we going to do?” Twain muttered to Digger.

“When the fight starts,” Digger said quietly, “take down Carpe, then run. Wait for me at the car. I’ll catch up.”

“What makes you think I can take down Carpe?” Twain asked.

Digger looked at him. “You’re saying you don’t have a surprise up your sleeve?”

Twain almost smiled. “I might. But how are you going to beat these guys when you can’t even, um…”

“Can’t even what?” Caveat asked.

“Can’t use his Drillers,” said a mellifluous voice from behind them. “Isn’t that right, Digger?”

Who is the new arrival? Find out in the next thrilling episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to continue to the next episode, click here!

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Week 8.1 – Bite the Big Apple Corps

Previously: Digger and Twain were making their getaway after robbing the Kessler Museum, when they heard a mysterious voice in alley. And now…

When Everett Cornwall sat down that morning with his cup of chamomile tea for his morning meditation, he wasn’t expecting anything exciting. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d get an advance vision of any nasty surprises his client’s wife might spring. Divorce was often a nasty business, and it could be even worse when one or both clients had secret identities to protect. Being able to anticipate what the other side would do was one reason Cornwall could charge the substantial fees he did.

But instead of damaging revelations during a deposition, what he got were confusing flashes: Digger (in a T-shirt, no less) standing next to a blonde cowgirl, clashing bodies and pummelling fists, screams and blood. A lot of blood.

Cornwall opened his eyes and dialed a number on his cell phone. “Ron, I need you to gather the team,” he said. “Digger’s in town, and something bad is going to happen. I don’t know exactly what, but with those damned Drillers of his… Exactly. We musn’t let him hurt anybody. I’ll pinpoint a location and get back to you.”

He hung up the phone and headed toward his secret closet, the cup of tea forgotten on his desk. Digger had to be stopped before disaster struck!

***

Twain looked up to see a woman in a tight-fitting red leather jumpsuit hovering several feet above them. He recognized her as a member of the Big Apple Corps, but before he could say anything, she said, “Long time, Digger. Who’s your girlfriend?”

Digger smiled. “This is Calamity…”

“Bellicose.”

“…Bellicose Jane,” Digger said.

“And my legs are killing me!” Twain added.

“Jane, this is Fish Girl,” Digger said.

“My name is not…”

“Sorry, I meant Night Fish,” Digger said.

“It’s Carpe Noctem, damn it!”

“Yeah,” Digger said. “Carp of the Night. I could never tell, does that mean like Vampire Fish or Fish Prostitute? Because the outfit could go either way.”

“It means ‘Seize the night,’ moron!” she shouted. “It’s Latin.”

“It’s Latin,” Digger muttered to Twain.

Twain had never seen this side of Digger. He had always been careful to keep Digger off balance, and he seemed awfully easy to rattle. But around other superhumans, first Thompson and now Carpe Noctem, he seemed to change. He was suddenly confident, in control. That was bad. Twain needed Digger to not be in control. “Digger, we need to, uh…”

“The only thing you need to do…” said a voice from behind them, “is go to jail.”

Twain turned and saw a battle-scarred man in padded black leather. Twain recognized him, as well: Caveat Maledictor, the Scourge of Crime.

“But not necessarily in one piece,” said another man, over six feet tall and wearing a sleeveless black T-shirt. He rested a baseball bat on one shoulder. He was Biggus Stickus, the Heavy Hitter.

Twain looked at Digger and was amazed to see a smile on his face. The worse the odds against them, the happier he got. Digger really was a moron.

What will happen next? Find out tomorrow in the next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to continue to the next episode, click here!

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Super Movies – Robocop

Since yesterday’s Vault featured a man trapped in a robotic suit, I figured why not continue the theme with 1987’s Robocop? Directed by Paul Verhoeven from a script by Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner, Robocop tells the story of Alex Murphy, a cop in future Detroit who is killed in the line of duty and resurrected as a cyborg.

Like Verhoeven’s later Starship Troopers, the film opens with satirical news reports and media clips, in which chipper TV anchors tell stories of death, tragedy and global chaos with bright smiles on their faces.

And pardon me for the brief digression (believe me, they’ll get less brief later), but I think it’s an interesting coincidence that the opening news clips feel very similar to what Frank Miller had done the year before in his graphic novel, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns.

And this is significant because Frank Miller ended up being the guy who wrote the original drafts of both Robocop 2 and Robocop 3. Like I say, interesting coincidence.

Anyway, in this dystopian future Detroit (possibly the first, but far from the last movie to depict Detroit as a crime-ridden hellhole), the police force has been privatized and sold off to corporate giant Omni Consumer Products. Idealistic young cop Murphy (Peter Weller) is transferred to the most violent district in town.

We get another quick foreshadowing of Verhoeven’s future Starship Troopers when male and female cops are shown showering and dressing in the same locker room. And then Murphy meets his new partner, Ann Lewis (Nancy Allen).

She has to be shown kicking ass in this first scene, because she’ll be mostly useless for the rest of the movie. While Murphy and Lewis are driving their first patrol as partners, OCP Vice-President Dick Jones is demonstrating his new product designed to make the streets safe: a police robot named ED-209. The demonstration does not go swimmingly.

Who the hell loaded live ammo into the ED for this dog-and-pony show? Although other than that bit of plot-required stupidity, I love ED-209. I love his design, which combines attack helicopter with dinosaur, I love the way he moves side-to-side like a prowling predator, and I love the sound he makes, with basso human voice laid over a jaguar growl, all designed to make ED-209 as intimidating as possible. If only he worked.

Anyway, the big boss (Dan O’ Herlihy, whom I had last seen under layers of reptilian make-up in The Last Starfighter) puts Jones’s project on hold, giving Bob Morton (Miguel Ferrer) the opportunity to pitch his rival project–Robocop. And while O’Herlihy and Ferrer are very good in their parts, the guy who really surprised me in this was Ronny Cox. Because I mainly remembered him from his starring role in the Waltons-like TV family drama Apple’s Way, seeing him here as a ruthless villain was really a jolt.

The Robocop project requires a dead (or as good as dead) cop to serve as the raw material, and right on cue, Murphy and Lewis respond to an all-units call to apprehend a gang of bank robbers. And things look pretty bad for the robbers at first, because Murphy is awesome. How awesome? This awesome.

Unfortunately for Murphy, the bad guys are this awesome.

The dude second from the left is Ray Wise, who has since become the go-to guy to make your project at least 50% cooler, just by his presence. The balding punk next to him is Paul McCrane, whom I had first seen as the sensitive gay acting student in Fame and who went on to play a memorable role as an asshole surgeon in the early seasons of E.R. And then there’s Red Forman…

Kurtwood Smith as Clarence Boddicker, who would go on to a l-o-o-o-n-g run on That 70’s Show. So yeah, Murphy’s pretty much dead.

Until he wakes up as a TV camera, seeing the world in scan lines as a team of OCP scientists puts him back together, led by this hottie.

Given how much screen time she has during this sequence, I expected her to play a more significant role in the story, but she mostly fades away after a few scenes. Which sucks, because I find her huge 80’s eyeglasses improbably attractive.

There’s a subtle homage to The Six Million Dollar Man when they mention that they were able to save the left arm (Steve Austin, the cyborg from the 70’s TV series, had bionic legs and a bionic right arm, but his left arm was his own). Bob Morton tells them to get rid of the arm. So Murphy is completely rebuilt, and soon, the cops in Murphy’s old precinct get a new addition–a huge robot who stomps through the halls like Frankenstein and has a machine pistol stashed in a special holster built into his thigh. Robocop is really well realized in this film, with an excellent suit by Rob Bottin’s crew and a really unique style of movement developed by mime coach Moni Yakin.

Robocop goes out on his first night, and we get another really subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it homage to the Marvel Comics that obviously influenced the producers.

There in the foreground is an issue of Rom, Spaceknight, which is significant because he looks like this.

Notice the metallic skin and single opening for the eyes. And here’s Robocop.

The thief also grabs an issue of Iron Man and tosses it on the counter before pulling out a gun and demanding money. Robocop stops him, and then stops a rape. His next mission is to save some hostages being held by a former city employee. Robocop takes him off guard by bursting through a wall behind him.

Which, wow, seems awfully reminiscent of this scene from Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns.

So anyway, the project is a success! Except for one little glitch. Robocop has a dream about Murphy’s death, and then runs into punk Emil (McCrane) on the street, which leads him to the other gang members, and finally to Boddicker. After a huge shoot-out in a drug factory, Robocop reads Boddicker his rights while throwing him through a series of plate glass windows, which, oh my God, seriously?


Given the long lead times of films, I can’t say that Robocop was definitively copying Frank Miller’s graphic novel, but given the multiple similarities and the fact that Miller was approached to write the screenplay for the sequel, it would be ludicrous to say he had no influence.

Boddicker confesses that he is in league with Dick Jones, OCP exec, but when Robocop goes to OCP to arrest Jones, he learns the nature of Directive 4, a mysterious secret bit of code in his programming. It prevents him from arresting an OCP executive. Jones then brings in an ED-209 to kill Robocop, after confessing to Bob Morton’s murder.Robocop is mostly helpless against the ED, but manages to foil it with that most insidious of weapons, a staircase.

And yes, it’s ridiculous, but I love the animation, and even more, I love the way they mix a pig’s squeals with human screams when the thing is down. Robo escapes from the SWAT team responding to the fracas at the OCP tower with Lewis’s help, and together they take refuge at the old steel mill where Murphy was killed. And Lewis gets to see Murphy’s face.

Boddicker and gang show up bearing military weapons, led there by a tracking device provided by Jones, and there’s a final showdown in which Emil is liquified by toxic waste and splattered all over Boddicker’s car, Ray Wise gets blowed up real good, and Boddicker has his throat ripped out. Verhoeven loves him some splatter.

Murphy heads back to OCP and interrupts a board meeting to accuse Dick Jones of murder, with video evidence to back it up. The Old Man fires Jones, leaving Robocop free to shoot him. And we get this odd little throwaway effects shot.

I don’t know why they didn’t just film a bluescreen of Ronny Cox instead of using this animated model. But the model clearly seems repurposed from some other project. Not only are the limbs wildly out of proportion, but the head looks grotesquely old and bald.

And this is just a guess, but I’m thinking that this model used the armature from the stop-motion demon in The Golden Child (released the year before, with stop-motion animation and demon design by Randy Dutra, who animated the ED-209). The demon was also tall and skinny, with long limbs.

Anyway, the old man asks for Robocop’s name, and he replies, “Murphy.” Humanity regained. Because you’re not really human until you’ve taken deadly revenge on an asshole. Or something.

Although I find myself generally disappointed by Verhoeven’s films, I still like this one, and I’m not sure why. Maybe just because it manages to retain some heart that the others lack. Or maybe it’s just the coolness of the supporting cast. The sequels were disappointing, and let’s not even talk about the TV series, but the original still holds up.

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Out of the Vault – Chrome

As I’ve said many times, the 80’s was a seminal time in American comics, both in terms of the revitalization of the major publishers and in the rise of the many independent publishers who tried to broaden the medium. One of those independent publishers was Hot Comics, which began publishing Chrome in 1986.

Chrome was written by Peter Gillis, who had previously written a comic called Shatter for First Comics, mainly notable for being created entirely on a Macintosh computer. Pencils were by Kelley Jones with inks and letters by Hot Comics art director Jim Nelson.

The inside front cover of the first issue features an editorial by Hot Comics publisher and editor-in-chief Joe Judt, which starts by contrasting the popularity of white bread with its lack of nutritional value. Judt then identifies the major comics companies with white bread (popular, but awful) and concludes with “Everyone says they are the best, we know we are.” A comma-spliced run-on sentence is not the best way to prove your claim to superior quality, just saying.

But nobody reads comics for the self-stroking editorials, so on to the adventure. Creighton Glenn is an astronaut, the only survivor of a joint US-Soviet space mission (yes, this comic was published back when there was a Soviet Union). Or is he?

You see, there were two astronauts sent on the mission, one American and one Russian. Both were fitted out with newly invented artificial skins developed to be the next generation in space suits.

The two men spent almost a year together on the space station and became best friends. But on the flight back home, disaster struck.

Rescue crews found only one survivor. His metal skin had fused to his body due to the intense heat, and he had lost his voice. He could only communicate through electronic devices via the cybernetic skin. Neither his retinas nor his fingerprints could be used for identification since the skin covered both, and the long stint of space travel had even altered height and weight enough to make identification impossible (no one ever brings up swabbing the inside of the mouth for DNA, probably because DNA fingerprinting was still brand new at the time the book was written).

In short, though Chrome says he is the American Glenn, nobody completely believes him, because the Russian would have ample reason to lie about his identity and would presumably know enough details about Glenn’s life after months on the space station with him to be convincing.

So Chrome busts out of U.S. custody to visit his American family, with both American forces and Russian spies in pursuit. In issue #2, he battles cybernetically-enhanced U.S. soldier Damage, only to end up having to escape from Russian custody aboard a Soviet airship in issue #3.

At the end of issue 3, we still didn’t know for sure if Chrome was the American or the Soviet, and by then it didn’t matter, because there never was an issue 4. Hot Comics folded, and rather than take the property to another small publisher as so many independent creators did in those days, Gillis went immediately to Marvel Comics to write Strikeforce Morituri. Kelley Jones moved to DC where he illustrated runs of Sandman and Batman.

Chrome was gone forever, and it was just as well. It had an intriguing premise and good moments, but overall, it lacked spark. I might not have hung on for issue four even if they had published one.

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Week 7.5 – The Museum

Previously: Twain has robbed the Kessler Museum of the World with Digger in tow. And now…

Digger leaped toward the alley entrance, but the leap fell far short of where he should have landed. It was the damn skater jeans; they were so baggy, they created a ton of drag that he wasn’t used to. He sprinted into the the alley and caught up to Twain before the thief had reached the far end. He grabbed Twain by the shoulder and spun him around.

“Dude, what’s the deal?” he asked. “You said it was supposed to be just a recon.”

“Damn it, keep moving,” Twain said and ran out of the alley.

“Hey, aren’t we going the wrong way?” Digger asked as Twain started to cross the street.

“No, we’re going the right way,” Twain said. He sprinted into another alley with Digger following. “I let myself get seen in this get-up going a couple of blocks in the wrong direction, then switch outfits and double back.”

“That almost makes sense,” Digger admitted. “Except, Calamity Jane? Really?”

Twain stopped and turned to face Digger. “It’s Bellicose Jane. And my legs are killing me.”

Digger glanced down at Twain’s disturbingly smooth legs. “What, cause of the boots?”

“No!” Twain said. “You don’t get it? Bellicose Jane? Rhymes with ‘varicose vein?’”

He turned and stalked away with Digger following once again. “Oh my God, who on the planet do you expect to get that?”

Twain shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter how many people get it as long as I know it’s funny.”

“But it’s not!” Digger said. “It’s really not.”

“Okay, enough,” Twain said. “One more street and then we double back.”

“But seriously,” Digger said as they continued across the next street, “if we’re going to work together, you need to stop lying to me.”

“When did I lie to you?” Twain asked.

“Do the words ‘this is just a recon’ ring a bell?”

Twain walked quickly into another alley. “Okay, I’ll admit I jumped the gun on you. But I needed you to be cool in there, and the best way to keep you cool was to make you think nothing would happen.”

“That’s bull,” Digger said. “I’m not a noob. You need to start trusting me more.”

“When it comes to what we’re doing now, you are a noob,” Twain said. “But you want me to trust you more? Fine. On our next job, I’ll give you something really important to do.”

“Next job? Wait a minute,” Digger said. “I thought this was it. What next job?”

“The cup by itself has no special properties,” Twain said. “There are two other components we need for the plan.”

“Two? Only two?” Digger asked. “If you’re going to make something up, why not say you need my help for ten more? Or twenty?”

“Because the actual number is one,” Twain said. “I already have one of the other components. We just need one last piece to put the plan into motion.”

“Which is?”

“Yes, tell us,” said a voice from above. “I’d like to hear this, too.”

 Who is the newcomer? Find out next week in our next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to continue to the next chapter, click here!

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Week 7.4 – The Museum

Previously: Digger and Twain were on a recon of the museum they intended to rob, when shots rang out. And now…

The sound had come from one of the galleries further back in the building. Jerry the guard ran toward the sound, his hand on the butt of his pistol. Natalie ducked behind the counter and snatched up the receiver of the phone as Digger pulled his arms out of their constricting slings and ran after Jerry. A shrill “YEEE-HAWWWW!” echoed through the mostly deserted galleries above the sound of Digger’s skater jeans flapping.

Digger entered the Asian gallery and slid to a stop at Jerry’s side. His jaw dropped in shock at what he saw.

Jeff Twain was dressed as a cowgirl, with a curly blonde wig and buckskin miniskirt with white hat and boots. In one hand, he held a pistol, and in the other, what looked like an ancient crystal cup. “I’m Bellicose Jane, and my legs are killing me!” he shouted as he aimed the pistol at Jerry. “Don’t do anything stupid, hombre.”

Jerry tensed next to Digger. “What the hell is with this guy?” he muttered.

“What are you doing?” Digger nearly shouted. “You said this was just a recon.”

Jerry looked at Digger, startled. “You’re with him?”

“YEEEE-HAWWWW!” Twain shouted and ran past the two of them, out of the room.

Digger stood dumbfounded, staring after his sort-of partner, noticing that Twain either had very little body hair or had actually shaved his legs to look better in his costume. Something hit him hard in the small of his back, knocking him down.

He rolled to his feet and faced behind him, toward Jerry. The guard’s pistol was drawn and aimed at Digger. “I knew something wasn’t right about you,” Jerry said. “Don’t move.”

“Jesus,” Digger said. “Your girlfriend grabs my ass, and I’m the bad guy?”

“She’s not my…”

But by that time, Digger had leapt up to stick to the wall. Jerry tracked his pistol up to shoot at Digger, but by the time he pulled the trigger, Digger was already running up the wall and across the ceiling. Bullets pounded into the plaster behind him as he ran. He leaped toward the gallery entrance, twisted to land on his feet and blocked a final shot with his right Driller. The bullet ricocheted and shattered an ornate vase to Digger’s right. Before the pieces had finished breaking on the hardwood floor, Digger was out of the gallery. “You’re paying for that!” he shouted back at Jerry.

Digger sprinted through the galleries faster than any human. Ahead, he heard another “YEE-HAW!” from Twain and a shriek from Natalie as a shot rang out.

He passed through the entry hall a moment later. Natalie cowered behind her counter. “Sorry,” Digger shouted as he ran past. “We’re just borrowing it. You’ll get it back, I promise.”

And then Digger was outside, shielding his eyes against the bright glare of the sun. He spotted a cowgirl clad in buckskin disappearing into an alley to his left and dashed after her. Him. Damn it, what had just happened?

What did happen? Find out in the next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here

Or to read the next episode, click here!

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Week 7.3 – The Museum

Previously: Digger and Twain are in New York to rob a museum. Their first visit, Twain says, is just a recon. And now…

Digger looked up in not-quite-panic and saw Twain disappear into the first gallery with a single glance back. Since Digger obviously couldn’t tell the attendant the real answer to her question–You only think you know me because you saw a giant projection of me ‘saving the world’— he ducked his head and said, “No. I mean, I’m not even from here.”

“Okay,” she said. “You need some help with your wallet?”

“Yeah,” Digger said. “Thanks.”

She nodded sympathetically and got up to come around the counter.

“Is everything all right here?” asked a deep voice from behind Digger. Digger turned and saw a big security guard standing behind him.

“We’re fine, Jerry,” said the attendant. Now that she was out from behind the counter, Digger saw that her name tag read Natalie. She walked behind Digger. “Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Digger said.

“Crazy,” she said as she reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “What brings you here instead of staying home? You should be resting or something.”

“Well, you know, I’ve always been interested in…” He looked around for the name of a special exhibit or something. All he could see were flyers with the name of the museum–Kessler Museum of the World. “…the world,” he finished lamely.

“Ooh, you hiding a butt in these baggy jeans,” she said. Her hand cupped his right ass cheek and squeezed. He started and half-turned, but she leaned in and whispered to him as she pulled a twenty out of his wallet. “”Don’t get worked up. Jerry’s got this thing for me. I’m just messing with him.”

She winked and tucked his wallet into the sling holding his right arm, then went behind the counter. “Let me just get your change. The museum has seven galleries, one for each continent. Is there any particular area or era that interests you?”

“I don’t know,” Digger said, going over a list of the continents in his head to pick one.  “Wait a second. This is a museum for historical artifacts, right? What the hell kind of artifacts do you have from Antarctica?”

Natalie smiled as she came back around the counter with his change. “You’d be amazed how many people never think to ask about that. Mister Kessler believed that it was just a matter of time before permanent colonies sprang up on Antarctica, so he reserved a gallery for such time as that happens. In the meantime, we use it for special showings, and for the alien stuff.”

“Alien stuff?”

“He was also a big believer in UFO’s.” Natalie slipped the five dollar bill into his wallet, then slipped the wallet into his back pocket. She let her hand linger on his ass. She leaned in close and murmured into his ear, “Jerry is so pissed at you right now.”

Digger couldn’t worry about that. An alien museum was where he had first met Twain. It was obviously the target. “Where’s the…”

He was interrupted by gunshots.

 What has gone wrong? Find out in our next exciting episode!

 To read from the beginning, click here

 And to read the next episode, click here!

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