Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 23

Someone's Gettin' A Beatin'

It all started innocently enough. The two men – one a giant, evil superchicken with the unlikely name of Thunderfunk; and the other, a toned, tanned, uniformed, ex-military man with superpowers and an equally unlikely name of Awesomepants – were sitting at a bar, sharing a few drinks and discussing life in general. It would have been easy to assume they were friends. They were not. Mortal enemies would be a better way to describe them (as well as a good name for an eighties rock band). Drunk off their rockers and full of simmering rage would also be apt.

As they drank, one of them, and no one would ever be able to say who, sloshed some beer onto the other. They argued about who’s fault the spill was and who would pay the cleaning bill. They also started to raise their voices, turning the whole minor incident into a shouting match.

From their, it turned into the inevitable shoving match. It sounds fairly typical so far, but that is only because you, the humble reader, has forgotten that one of these two has superpowers, so his shove sent his opponent through a wall. Luckily for the other man, he was, as has been pointed out already, a giant chicken. If you don’t think chickens are tough, remember that they continue to run around and cluck when you cut their heads off. All most humans do in the same circumstances is look shocked. Thunderfunk came barrelling through the wall, making a new hole because he was too drunk to hit the existing hole, and returned fire, smashing Awesomepants with a thunderous punch to the jaw, sending the military man through the opposite wall, making a matching hole.

It is important to note at this point that Straw Daq, Thunder’s right hand man, tossed off the last of his drink, slurred ‘Aw nuts to this,’ and, grabbing the bartender by the arm, walked through the hole in the wall to await the final outcome outside. Upon reaching the outside, he was attacked by an army of squirrels. It is still unknown at this point if the attack was a coincidence or if Awesomepants had organised some help. Either way, the bartender promptly quit his job and was never heard from again.

Yes, that does mean the squirrels got him. So sad.

The battle inside of the building raged for some time. Thunderfunk was not quite the physical match for his opponent, however he was a much smarter fighter, and the alcohol had not affected him as bad as his opponent, so his head was clearer. Awesomepants used his time slowing power sparingly in his inebriated state because it gave him the heebie jeebies and made him motion sick. His gravity defiance was also tricky to use because he had trouble controlling it. Of course his shirt managed to come ripped apart at the seams, but since there were no women around to impress, he felt it was a waste of a shirt.

The battle came to an end when Awesomepants mixed up his time and his gravity powers, thus causing him to try slow down the pinball machine that was about to come crashing down on his head even as he tried to decrease the gravity of the few seconds it spent in the air. If that sounds confusing to describe, imagine how confusing it was to try. It was even more confusing when it worked, but he was so astonished by his success that he completely failed to notice the aluminum baseball bat that made solid contact with his cranium. By the time he woke up he had a power inhibitor in his head and a splitting headache due to a hangover. And a baseball bat to the head.

Thunderfunk looked down at him scornfully. “I should kill you,” he said savagely. “But, I’ve already put the inhibitor on you and since they are single use only, it would be a shame to waste, so I guess I’ll let you live.” He walked to the door, or the space where the door used to be before it got ripped out and thrown around the room. “For now,” he said, his voice dripping with menace. He left the building and headed to the drugstore where he bought as much aspirin as he could.

Straw dragged himself back to his hospital bed where he refused to leave his bed for a week, except when he saw the squirrel on his window sill. “It made a slashing motion across his neck with his little paw!” he was heard to say to anyone who would listen. That night, he slept well, with a little help from his friend Mr. Sleepy-Time Drug.

Fools of us All - Chapter 23

I awoke with a start, looking around me with panicked eyes. It had been a dream, almost a haunting of scenes from my life thus far. Suppressing a shudder, I rose to my feet, stretching my aching muscles. “Spin,” I whispered, looking for the young man who had become my companion. The room was abandoned, though, so I slipped through the door into the burnt out portion of the building. In the dark of night it was even creepier than in the gloom of early evening. An indistinct voice sounded from outside, followed by the scraping of a boot against the tile floor of the entrance.

My heart began to beat faster and I crouched behind the burnt out husk of a desk, slipping out one of my purloined weapons, readying for battle. I could tell there were two people, both trying to walk quietly and utterly failing. I waited as long as I could, holding back until I knew I had a clear shot that I could not miss. Springing to my feet with a yell, I pulled the trigger, sending two shots hurtling through the air.

Spin froze, looking at the spot in the wall which was now sporting twin holes mere inches apart, and even closer to his head. He turned towards me, his face hidden in the shadows of the night. “Why…?” was all he managed.

I lowered my gun, a sour expression on my face. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” I said. “You are lucky that I recognised your silhouette in time to change my aim.” Pointing with my weapon, I then asked “who is this?”

“Let’s get some light and I will explain everything.” Spin pushed the shadowy figure past me, towards the room where we had been sleeping. Ten minutes later, we had a small fire going, along with more questions that had no answers.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 22

Even I Don't Know What's Going On

“Why...why we alwaysh gotta be fighting, man?” Thunderfunk the Superchicken slurred towards his arch-enemy. “Where’sh the love?”

Sniffling over his beer, First Lieutenant Awesomepants shrugged. “I dunno, man. It’s just our sacred duty, I guesh.”

Thunder giggled into his Mai Tai. “You said ‘doody’.” The two broke into a fit of laughter, holding their sides in their mirth. Rising unsteadily to his feet, Thunder raised his glass. “A toast!” he roared enthusiastically. “To the best enemy a man could have!”

Jumping up, Awesomepants’ stool fell to the ground. “Mazel Tov!” he shouted, raising his glass high. They clinked their glasses and drained them.

“Barkeep, another fine ale for me and my friend!” Thunder pushed his glass gently (or so he thought) across the bar, sending it flying into the mirror behind the bottles of liquor on the wall, leading to another round of laughter and giggling.

With a sigh, the bartender set up two more glasses and began pouring. He was slightly depressed that these two weren’t the worst customers he would encounter that week. Maybe it was time to become a car wash attendant, like his mother always wanted. Often, he wondered if his mother didn’t like him or if she just had extremely low expectations of him.

Two glasses of frosty beer with the perfect amount of foam slid gently down the length of the bar, stopping directly in front of the inebriated pair. They raised their glasses in another toast. “I love you man,” said Awesomepants.

“No, I love YOU!” replied Thunder.

Just then, Straw Daq ran into the bar, his hospital gown flapping open in the back, a bandage still wrapped around his head. “Thunder!” he yelled. He took two steps and stopped suddenly, leaving a permanent indentation in the solid oak beam he encountered. Pulling himself painfully away, he ran up to the two at the bar. “Thunder!” he yelled again.

Awesomepants put a hand on the young man’s head and turned it slightly so he could see his boss.

“Thanks,” said the young man. And then, “Lightning!” He looked confused.

The bartender polished a glass. Maybe he could get a job driving the ice cream truck. He liked ice cream. Everyone liked ice cream. Except those with lactose intolerance. Racists.

“Thund...mmmfft.” Finding his mouth covered by Thunderfunk’s feathered hand, Straw’s eyes bugged out a bit from the pressure of the covered yell.

“What is it?” inquired the villain.

“I jus’ wanned to warn you that First Lietelt...First liltentan...that dude Awesomepants was seen in the area. And the doctors say I have a concussion.” He smiled hebetudinously and fell over. Before anyone could say anything he jumped back to his feet. “Does anyone else smell lilacs?” Dazed, he wandered away, ending up at the other end of the bar, nursing a cognac.

“What a shtrange fellow,” said Awesomepants, taking a sip of his beer and only missing his mouth a little.

“Hey, watch what you say about him. He’s my friend!” Thunder slammed his glass onto the counter and then quickly licked up the drops that sloshed out.

Looking contrite, Awesomepants apologised. “I din’nt know,” he said. “Any friend of mine is a friend of mine. Wait. Any friend of mores is a mend of frine. Wait. Any derivative of a cosine is equal to the sum of the square of its inverse proportions. Wait, thash bad math...” He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. “Who are you again?”

“Me? My name is Awesomepants!” Thunder thumped his chest enthusiastically.

“I thought MY name was Awesomepants.”

“Oh yeah. I love you man.”

“I love YOU, man. You’re my, you’re my bud.”

The two hugged again.

Straw sipped his whiskey and looked mournfully at the bartender. “How’m I gonna win the beauty pageant now?” he asked plaintively.

The bartender shrugged, already counting the money he was going to make from his shoe shine empire that he was going to start. Tomorrow.

For now, he had a glass to polish.

Fools of us All - Chapter 22

The kid and I should have moved at some point, but instead we continued to stand and stare. I think we were both too surprised to even think. He was young, no more than a teenager. His hair was getting long and greasy, and a smattering of acne dotted his cheeks. His clothes were old and well worn, and I could see a toe sticking out of his sneakers. Guarded eyes looked out from under a broad forehead. His words finally broke the spell. “Oh hell no,” he breathed. Quick as a flash he turned around and bolted.

I was only a step behind, my fingers grazing the edge of his the hood on his tattered sweater. Our footsteps echoed through the room and we soon left the building, running through the rain that had begun to fall. I gritted my teeth in frustration as we splashed through a puddle, soaking my shoes. There was no way he was getting away now.

He skidded around a corner, disappearing from sight for a second. I rounded the same corner and fell over myself trying to avoid a collision with a large man standing with his arms crossed. I jumped to my feet, stammering an apology as I tried to get around him to continue after my quarry.

A large hand on my chest brought me up short. It was then that I noticed my young adversary was standing behind the behemoth, his arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. I stepped back a pace, looking up at the large man before me. “I suppose you two are pals, huh.”

“You want him, you have to go through me.” He flexed, his arms bulging out from his shirt.

I raised my hand in a placating gesture. “I don’t want to fight,” I said. “I just want to talk. He was in a building that had been blown up, a building very special to a woman I am friends with. I want to know if he knows anything, that’s all.” I looked past the large man at the kid I had been chasing, a pleading look on my face. Which was probably why I did not see the punch coming.

I was caught full on the face by a large, beefy fist, causing me to fly back, skidding to a halt in a pile of garbage. I rose to my feet, grimacing with pain. I could feel the bruise forming. “This is going to be difficult, isn’t it.”

The large man smiled and nodded.

For the next few minutes, I learned the finer art of being a punching bag. Making it worse was seeing the young man leaning against a wall, enjoying my thrashing. Finally I found myself lying, my face pressed hard into the concrete under a large boot. The edges of my vision began to turn black.

This is ridiculous I thought. I just wanted to talk. Suddenly, the pressure on my head lessened slightly. With a burst of energy I pushed his foot off and rolled aside. Rising to my feet, I swayed slightly. Mocking laughter rang in my ears. “You are less than useless,” he said derisively. Slowly he came towards me, casually reaching out to grab me in a bone crushing bear hug.

Waiting until the last second, I deftly stepped aside, kicking at his ankle and pushing his back at the same moment. Surprised, he stumbled forward, smacking his head into a wall. With a roar of pain, he whirled around, holding his head. Before he could react, I leapt forward, running into him at full speed, knocking his head against the wall with a dull thud. He slid senselessly to the ground.

Not pausing to see if he was out of the fight, I whirled around and grabbed the young punk, who’s smug look had faded. Twisting his arm behind him, I pushed him in the direction of Caz’s hideout, stepping over his fallen buddy as we walked. I had no idea what was going on, but this guy might have some answers. And if he didn’t, then maybe I could sit on him for a while for the pain he had caused me tonight.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 21

The Stage is Set

Thunderfunk the Superchicken sat in the smoky bar, sipping his martini, gazing at the inebriated customers with barely concealed disdain. Actually, his disdain was not concealed at all, even remotely, but he was on his fourth martini of the night and was quite unaware of his own level of intoxication. He sneered at anyone who dared to sit next to him, leaving him in a satisfying personal bubble as he waited.

Waited for what? For the man who chose that moment to stride confidently, if not a bit unsteadily, through the door, stopping (and swaying slightly in a non-existent breeze) when he saw the giant chicken. “Thunder!” he roared. “What have you done to my team?”

Thunder watched as an impressive specimen of a man lumbered towards him. He was well over six feet and highly muscled. His black hair was cut short in a crew cut that he kept meticulously trimmed. He wore a modified army uniform, designed to flow better and be more breathable. Also, the arms had been removed to better show off his muscles. It was rumoured that the top was made to intentionally rip away so that all could see every muscle on his torso, but, though it happened in nearly every fight he fought, it had yet to be proved. His combat boots were highly buffed, and his pants hid an impressive array of weapons.

He did not rely on purely physical prowess, however. It was said that during night combat overseas somewhere he had performed and ancient and sacred ritual that had bestowed him with mystical powers - powers to control the minds of others, to perform incredible feats of strength, and to go a long time without food, water, or even air. These rumours had been started and maintained by First Lieutenant Awesomepants himself.

The truth was he drank some sort of funky serum, untested on anyone or anything, and it granted the ability to slow time, decrease gravity around himself (thus granting him the appearance of super strength) and to break wind that always smelled like lilacs in a warm summer breeze. The serum also contained many steroids which explained his muscles. He could not control minds, but he was an extremely persuasive speaker which made people think he could control their mind. The part about not needing food, water, or even air, was a complete fabrication.

“Thunder!” he roared again, coming to a halt in front of the giant chicken. The two foes stood face to face for a long time, glaring. Finally, Awesomepants spoke again. “Thunder!”

“What?” answered the chicken.

“I...I don’t remember.”

“Well good, because neither do I.”

Awkwardly staring at each other for another minute, the two scratched their heads in wonder. Finally Thunderfunk gestured to the bar. “Drink?” he inquired.

“Don’t mind if I do,” replied his arch nemesis. They sat down beside each other, Thunder with his fifth martini, and Awesomepants with his seventh beer of the evening.

Quietly, the rest of the customers exited the bar. They knew what was going to happen next.