Showing posts with label aliasuno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aliasuno. Show all posts

Saturday, January 9, 2021

PAGE 46 TO PAGE 48

Just then, a loud banging came from the floor. It was the man staying in the apartment below.

“For crying out loud, ladies!” he cried. “Will you keep it down up there? I'm trying to watch the television here!”

“Oh, brother!” Jenna muttered and then hollered back, “You don't have a television!”

“Yeah? Well, um, I'm listening to the radio!”

“Hah! Try again, old man! You don't have a radio! You sold it last week!”

“Oh, fine!” the man exclaimed. “I'm reading my porn magazines! I'm looking at dirty naked pictures of nubile young women in compromising positions! There! I said it! I admit it to the whole world. Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?”

“Get a job, you freeloader!” Jenna retorted. “It's the middle of the day!”

“I have a condition!” the man replied.

“Jennaaaaa!” Jenna's mother called out.

“Whaaaaat!?”

“Stop teasing your uncle! Just leave him be! You know very well he's incompetent!”

“Yeah!” her uncle vigorously agreed. “I'm on dis-- Hey! What's the matter with you, woman!? I'm not incontinent! How many times do I have to tell you? It was an accident that one time! One time!”

The phone began ringing again and it was with a great sich of relief that Jenn picked up the receiver and answered, leaving her mother and her uncle to bicker. “Queen of Hearts Delivery and Bounty Hunter Agency. You have it, we break it. How may we be of service?”

She listened for a bit, nodding slowly and slightly, before saying, “Ah, wrong number. You want the bakery across the street, the Queen of Tarts Bakery and Lingerie Shop. Their tarts are heavenly and the undergarments to die for. Not that I wear any. Undergarments that is. Not the tarts. Yeah. Uh-huh. You should try out their Squid Ink Angel Hair Clam Tarts. Very authentic, I must say. Looks just like...”

“Dang it, woman!” Jenna's uncle was screaming. “Mother told you to stop calling me that! That's it! That's the last straw! I'm calling her right now and telling on you!”

Ah, yeah, just another day for the Queen of Hearts Delivery and Bounty Hunter Agency. Just business as usual.



CHAPTER THREE

Gazpacho of the Andes was on the run. The cunning bounty hunter Mallet Girl had just foiled his latest caper and he had been looking forward to the little bit of molestation fun, too. His latest victim-to-be was just so cute and adorable that he had been barely able to contain himself.

But even now, in his moment of defeat, he had found himself bursting with laughter and good humor. He was quite enjoying the moment, savoring every single bitter second of it. Like any good super villain, he was quite the incorrigible bastard and the prospect of eluding and outwitting his super hero nemesis was sending him to the very heights of ecstasy. Even now, he was already planning his nect kidnapping scheme as he sped down the sidewalk, shoving hapless pedestrians aside like rag dolls and kicking stray dogs and cats out of the way, his glorious red cape flowing and flapping magnificently behind him. There was this petting zoo in the plush environs of East Axion Plus he had been meaning to visit.

Mallet Girl was hot on his heels, doing her fair share of violence. Once she even swung her trusty wooden mallet like a golf club, sending the poor, mangy dog and the large soup bone it had been carrying in its mouth tumbling into the air and disappearing in the distance.

“Stop in the name of money!” Mallet Girl commanded. “You are under arrest, Pistachio! That bounty on your head is mine!”

“That's Gazpacho of the Andes!” Gazpacho called back.

“Whatever!” she went. “Just stop running already so I can bash you on the head and beat you senseless!”

But Gazpacho of the Andes only guffawed in response and picked up his pace even more.

“Why you...!” Mallet Girl protested. “Come back here and take your beating like a man!”

Alias Uno was on the rooftops, following and tracking them. He paused to watch them through a tiny pair of binoculars. “Heading to ol' Bricktowne, huh?” he whispered. “Well that's mighty convenient. Not very populated that place these days. We'll be able to keep casualties down to a minimum this time. At least.”

Still, Alias Uno was worried. This was Gazpacho's turf after all. Leastways, he was bound to be more familiar with the area than they were and those old tenements were like one huge rat maze. He shuddered at the thought of how Mallet Girl would react if she ever lost sight of her quarry when she was this excited.

For a moment, he considered going down and giving her a hand.

It was but a fleeting moment though. Thankfully. He quickly reconsidered and thought better of it, the memories of what happened the last time he tried to help her fight a super villain rushing in from the back of his mind like a great deluge of cold, dark water. He turned pallid white as he relived the months of spent in that horrible hospital bed, which wouldn't have been all that bad if Mallet Girl hadn't taken it upon herself to visit him everyday and nurse him back to health herself, and the painful physical therapy that followed. He'll be damned if he'll have to go through all that again.

And besides, Mallet Girl was definitely more than a match for such a third-rate villain like Gazpacho of the Andes. They were mile apart by his reckoning. After all, was it not Mallet Girl who put an end to the dastardly dealings of Bull's Run, the evil international terrorist organization bent on wold domination by genetically mutating the world's population into half-bovine, half-human slaves? And pay the electric bill, balance the agency's finances, stop a bank robbery, service a fleet of taxi cabs, and solve the city's power crisis by foiling an alien invasion to boot all in the same afternoon?

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

PAGE 28 TO PAGE 30

Alias Uno threw up his arms in exasperation. It's made of fiberglass!”

“Oooh, perfect!” replied Mallet Girl. “I have just the mallet for smashing fiberglass. Thank you, Steven! You're the best!”

“Mally, no.”

“What?”

“No. Just no.”

“Oh, alright,” Mallet Girl reluctantly agreed. “Hey! You called me Mally! I thought I told you to never call me by my real name in public!”

“What?” Aliast Uno stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to react. “Wait, Mally's not your--”

“Ssshhhhhh!” Mallet Girl went. “Not so loud. You know that and I know that but people around here don't.”

Alias Uno continued staring at her. She looked so serious. If she had been fooling around at his expense, she gave no hint of it whatsoever, which was quite unlike her. Indeed, Malled Girl was possessed of many skills, chiefest of which was, of course, wielding her beloved mallets, but poker face was definitely not among them. She couldn't bluff her wait out of a gullible people convention for the life of her. “What?”

“What?” Mallet Girl stared back at him, equally confused.

“Ungh,” Alias Uno muttered then, holding the side of his head with his right hand. His head was throbbing again; pretty soon he'll be suffering through a full-blown migraine attack if this continued any longer. Time and time again, he had reminded himself never to get into an argument or confrontation with Mallet Girl but she just seemed to have a knack for getting his goat, for provoking him.

Slowly, he shook his head. Again. “Just let me do the talking from now on. At the rate you're going, we'll be here all day. We've already wasted most of the morning as it is.”

“Hey,” Mallet Girl protested, “I'm a pretty good bounty hunter, I'll have you know!”

“Yeah? Well, I'm not the one who just spent a couple of hours arguing with the ordering console of the Mac-In-A-Cup drive-thru. I'm not the one who insisted on following those footprints, clearly just newly painted on the sidewalk and an obvious advertising gimmick, all the way to the old shoe flea market. And I'm certainly not the one who threatened that poor, blind fellow with grievous bodily harm.”

“Oh, come on,” Mallet Girl retorted. “You can't blame that one on me. He looked mighty suspicious to me and I'm still pretty sure he knew where that Pistachio guy was holed up.”

“Gazpacho of the Andes,” Alias Uno corrected her.

“Whatever. That guy kept on insisting he hadn't seen anything. I got angry. So sue me.”

“He was blind! He couldn't have possibly seen Gazpacho of the Andes. Or anything else for that matter.”

“Well, how was I suppose to know that?” cried Mallet Girl. “It's not as if he was wearing a sign or something.”

“He did have a sign on him!” Alias Uno exclaimed. “There was cardboard sign hanging from his neck. It said 'Pity the Blind Foundation'. He had on dark, blind man glasses. And he had a cane, not to mention the guide dog.”

“Oh, fine!” Mallet Girl pouted, folding her arms and turning her back on her sidekick. “We'll do it your way. But don't blame me if get nowhere. I was on the verge of a breakthrough, too. I could feel it in my gut.”

Alias Uno let out a relieved sigh. He should put this on his blog. It wasn't often he won an argument with Mallet Girl. Not without getting a mallet to the face anyways.

“But first, let's take a short break,” Mallet Girl said then. “Bounty-hunting's thirsty work. I'm parched! Hungry, too. Must be getting close to lunchtime already.”

“Mallet Girl...” Alias Uno muttered.

But Mallet Girl wasn't listening. She was already walking away. “I'm in the mood for some extra-extra-caffeinated mocha latte chino with coffee bean sugar bombs and nata. Yeah,” she declared. “And a family-sized bacon, ham, and cheese sandwich with extra wasabi mayo.”

Alias Uno let out another sigh. An exasperated one this time. “I give up,” he said to himself. “I suppose it is time for a little break.” Besides, Mallet Girl appeared to be in one of her moods again. Huh. Must be that time of the month again.

He groaned. Mallet Girl was nigh insufferable whenever she got impatient for her monthly copy of the Malleteers Digest to arrive in the post. He prayed that the magazine will arrive early this month.

Mallet Girl suddenly shrieked with delight and excitement. She pointed at something across the street. “Oh, oh!” she exclaimed. “Look! A new hardware store is opening!”

“Don't even think about it, Mallet Girl,” Alias Uno cried. “You heard Jenna. No more shopping sprees until all the bills are paid.”

“Sigh... I know, I know. Until all the bills are paid. Whoopeee...”

In the meantime, a couple of buildings down the stree, just around the corner, a man in a full-body fried chicken wing suit was handing out flyers to passers-by. He was standing in front of the Kansas Fricasseed Chicken restaurant, the new one, not the old one, for things would have turned out differently indeed had it been the latter. For right beside the old Kansas Fricasseed Chicken restaurant were located the offices of the White Queen Courier and Laundry Services, the base of operation of the buxom, bonny lass Rivet Jane, self-proclaimed rival of Mallet Girl and doom of everything mallet-related.

A woman in a plain, blue dress and white apron stood in front of him. She carried a canvass shopping bag filled with groceries in one hand a flyer in the other. She was reading the flyer, a dubious look on her face. “Fried chicken wing caramel fricassee?” she asked. “Oh, my. Sounds...delightful?”