Piggy

Candy Girl. You are my world. Ever seen a dancing pig? Maybe at the clubs sweetheart. You look like a club dancer. I’m that Italian PIG you wrinkled your nose at. I had enough money to buy and sell you. Now I buy people like you every day. This is the real life game of death. Fight your way inform the streets and then battle the eighteen stories of terror to get to my pad. Wanna take a bath? You’re love’s so sweet. You’re a special treat. Candy Girl.

You’re everything. Everything. Everything to me.

Let me give a few different commands to my street sergeant. He’s a good friend of your Boss. Imagine that. You have a Boss. You’re rich, so rich and beautiful. Built like an Amazon. Check out my fair lady, now. Whooooooweee! You don’t need another Boss. I’m the Boss Hog.

Tin Soldier, introduce plan R. Scatter. Retreat. Pull back and let them in. The almighty Smaug Hog has traps in his lair that no burglar can escape. Let them come in and play. Candy Girl. Now. How about those villains? Radiative Fetus. Attack. Dr. Murk. Attack. Stroke. Attack. Crimson Cape. Attack.

Release the hounds. The cameras show my Horde Floors slapping each other into a fury. Open the flood gates. Attack. Attack! Tin Soldier, get up here immediately. We must plan for her arrival.

Look at that spiral kick. Damn, he’s good. That’s a nasty takedown you got there Boner Man. He’s studied something. A strike to the temple. Low kicks. That knee stomp of his. What is the name of that style. No matter. Iron Hand, Iron Body. I have both. Here. Staple my mask on. This might get rough. Either way. She’s a minx. Look at that flying kick. I love that.

Give me an injection. I’m getting faint. Did you hit an artery or something? Staple to the collar bone next time. Jeez. I don’t want this thing coming off. Okay, you handle the peons. Let her through. In fact, let him through too. I want her to see this. It might be her last chance to realize that I am his superior in every way. Yes. I’ll kill him myself. Injection, you nitwit. I can still feel it.

Handle the others. Handle them. And shut off this damn music. I’m getting tired of it. I’m losing focus. You injected too much, idiot. This isn’t like the other times. I’m in it this time. Understand? Get the second needle. I need an energy shot. It’s just B 12, I swear, your honor.

That’s it. That’s it. Free and easy. Now go. I need to prepare.

Look at that tailored suit! That’s my best decision this week.

Confrontation

She dropped to the floor. Expecting the blackout that never came, she felt his fat hands turn her head. She could see the room. Harmless came through the side door as planned. Too late for them. The Pig Thing launched into a great speech. It made sense. It was disturbing but it made sense.

Harmless tensed as Pigsy described what he was going to do next. She watched the flurry of gloved hands as the two men met. Pig flab didn’t give way. Harmless’ fists made staccato thuds. He backed off. He’d hurt his hands doing that. Pigman open hand slapped him across the room.

Slowly, they came close again. The fat Pig was immovable. No leg sweep worked. The thigh kicks bounced back. The head hunter jaw shot, the backfist, the twelve elbow strike all were useless. Piggy slapped him again. This time, he went down. The Pig stepped on his back. She heard cracking.

The sound of tazers rang in her ear. She smelled ozone. Dodger to the rescue, she thought. Old Gutshot had run the gauntlet and he was wired to taze. It stunned the Pig, but only for a second. Harmless jerked his legs up around the Pighead and squeezed.

“Hold him,” Guise said. He hopped over her and injected the Fat Bastard with something. “Good freaking night.”

The Boss backed into the room with Buzz. “Pick her up and let’s go. No time for Fink. Just get her up and go.”

That crazy guy dressed like a Nutcracker shouldered him to the ground.

“Come on, Rick! Run me down, baby!” He screamed. “You should be running things, Rick! The Goldenboy! Ricky Ticky Timebomb. Phone for you, Rick.”

Boss tangled with him. Guise scooped her up. Harmless was pounding Fink’s face bloody. Teeth were poking through the Pig Mask. Everything was broken and burning in seconds. Fresh air slapped her lungs and they whizzed down a rope. The world went up as she went down.

Footsteps knocked the pavement. The siren call of the ambulance coming. Miss Bomb and Teddy Spaghetti covered their exit. It was not a compete disaster. News crews everywhere. She felt a tug at her neck.

“It’s out,” Guise said. “Give it a while. It’ll wear off.”

“Harmless,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Boss said. “We got him.”

Chapter Eight | Chapter Ten