Drifters

John's Log 36
Weird West 3

“Dying ain’t much of a living, boy”
Clint Eastwood, The Outlaw Josey Wales

The local law’s not so bad; they’re not so good either. I don’t know if they’re just jaded or what, but they don’t seem to be taking much of an interest in whatever it is we’ve been trying to track. We decided to check out what we hoped would be some good sources of information, places like the local newspaper and the local pastor. Both of them were busts – apparently whatever our prey is, it’s as new to the area as we are. Hopefully I didn’t tick the pastor off too much, but I really have a dislike for proselytizers.

We also checked out the realtor in town; Steve had the idea that if ‘it’ was new to the area, it might’ve bought property. We checked out the one family that seemed the most likely – the Perkins’ – but that didn’t give us any leads either. There was the plank incident there: when we were leaving I tripped over what I thought was a hidden root cellar, only after hours of planning and trekking back out there after midnight, it turned out to only be a loose plank lying in their yard.

That brings me to another thing; I don’t trip. Ever. Only, I’ve been having nightmares about this thing we’re hunting ever since the encounter with the girl. I’m beginning to think I’ve been targeted by the thing with these dreams, a kind of sorcerous attack. Steve – our resident expert on the matter – has been no help at all in figuring out how to deal with it. I want to find a dreamcatcher, but I keep letting things get in the way of looking for one. Then, it’s time to sleep and I get a whole new dose of reminder. The whole situation has got me unnerved – which is weird when you consider all of the really strange things I’ve fought in the past. Like I said; I need a dreamcatcher.

After all of those avenues led nowhere, we checked out the brothels in town – not what you might think, we were looking for new faces and figured the local working girls would be the ones to know. It was fun, but didn’t really pan out either. I guess I was getting frustrated and bored, and that’s never been a good combination for anyone in our group. So on our way back to the hotel, I guess I got a little inspired by all of our talk about robbing the bank. I broke into the building, and then into the safe; that’s when the big Mexican guy walked in – kinda like he’d been watching me the whole time and wanted to catch me elbow-deep in the safe.

He was one tough sunovabich; it took three of us to take him down in the end. Let me tell you something; with all of the advanced weaponry and biological upgrades we’re all carrying, most people we meet aren’t real challenges. That’s why we try to help clean out the monsters wherever we go (and yeah, we help ourselves to some things along the way but I never claimed to be hero). This guy scared me with the amount of punishment he both took and dished out.

In the end we got the money and the deeds to a lot of local homes. We figure on giving those back to the owners; we’ll probably keep the money though, for at least as long as we’re still in this world and need to eat. I did have one thought though, a new direction to check out. That thing was trying to get me underground before it attacked, and that might be where it’s lair is. In the morning – or maybe the next day when the news of the bank robbery isn’t so fresh – we’ll go check that cellar out.

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Steve's Log 39

“If you’re robbing a bank and you’re pants fall down, I think it’s okay to laugh and to let the hostages laugh too, because, come on, life is funny.”
~John Hardy

Hunting this skin thief is proving more and more difficult. There are virtually no clues that I recognize and the thing is doing a real good job evading us. On top of that, the town’s people seem hell bent on being assholes. Sure a few seem nice but most offer little assistance or are down right hindrances. I am taking John’s words to heart. Killing these people without provocation is murder. Our enhancements give us an edge that is almost godlike. So what am I to do.

I am angry about the way things are going and we need to focus and get direction. Failure to do so means the skin thief escapes and we move onto another world. I don’t want to leave until we find the thing but at the same time, I don’t like this town and don’t want to stay here.

Our plan to use John as bait seems to have worked and failed at the same time. John decided to rob the bank. He broke in at night and cracked the safe. Then this giant Mexican that looks like MACHETE walks in on him and starts a fight. I was working over-watch and couldn’t see the action. Pete, The Professor, and John fought Machete and I think they killed him. Even the fucking werecat ran in to help but then fled with its tail between its legs when it saw Machete. I really want to know what Machete was. He took one hell of a beating, and I base this assessment on the fact that I heard alot of gun shots and at that range I doubt if any of the guys would have missed.

They guys got out of the bank and pulled a good haul. We decided to turn the deeds over to the prospective landowners and keep the money for ourselves. I guess the next thing on our list is stealing a train. I am curious as to how that will turn out. We also could go rob the opium delivery but I got a pound already and don’t need any more. On another note, Sam doesnt seem pissed at Corey anymore but Corey is still giving her the stinkeye. I understand he is pissed about getting shot in the knee but then again, he is an armored beast and she did it with a pistol. I just hope I never have to decide between the two of them. I fear I will lose a friend the day that happens.

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Corey's Log 13

Well I have been dragging behind everyone and i m still depress that Tanya didn’t come with me. I have been thinking about her that I had not notice that Steve and Sam aren’t here.

Hey that’s right…Sam hasn’t try to shoot me in a while. I still don’t know whats that’s about. But she is still family… part of the only family I have left. Hey we fight and argue but we still have each other’s back. ….just don’t turn your back on them…. lol I wonder where are those two at?

Well if we go on the screams from John during the night, I am not the only one with things on the mind. He was yelling extreme loud last night, I thought he was under attack but then i heard him snapping at the Knuckles and Pete… so turn back over.

The next morning, I caught up the guys for breakfast. There we entertain the local sheriff as he questioned our group about skinned corpse that we found. It ended with a kind of “well you have nice day ….but I will be keeping an eye on y’all” After he left some odd looking guy sits with us talking about he is strange thing like a big cat/shaman basically he is a changeling looking for this other supernatural thing that wears other skins.

It turns out that little girl that John lost to in a fight was one of these things. So now we have figure out how to catch it and live on

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Professor’s Log: Hunter or Hunted
“I'd lay even odds that between the people following us and the people hunting us, we've become this city's principle means of employment.” ― Scott Lynch

Do you remember that thing we were hunting, the one that skinned its victims? Apparently now it’s hunting us. John had a bad run in with it. According to him, it was disguised as a teen-aged girl. It lured him into an alley with some story about a monster in a basement, and then set about wailing on him. John said, it damn near had him, but then the cat thing we thought was the killer showed up, pounced on the girl/monster and chased it off.

In hind sight, we probably shouldn’t have given John so much shit about getting beat up by a little girl, but hey, what are friends for. It did a real job on him though, and must have rattled him more than we thought, because that night, we heard him screaming in his sleep. I’m not sure whether the nightmare was PTSD or some type of magic, but considering where we are, I’m inclined to think the later.

The next morning, the sheriff showed up while we were eating breakfast. He wasn’t too pleased with the idea of skinned corpses piling up in his town, and he didn’t seem too keen on us either. We may have worn out our welcome.

After the sheriff left, this other fellow decided to join us. He looked Native American or maybe Mexican. My bet is he’s likely mestizo. Any way, it turns out that he’s the cat we saw the other night. He’s some sort of were-jaguar. He’s been stalking this thing that skins people for some time. Maybe we can help each other. At this point we don’t have many leads. In the meantime, we’re waiting for Prof. Erlenmeyer to show up.

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John's Log 35
Weird West 2

A man has got to know his limitations.
Clint Eastwood

So I got my ass handed to me by a young girl – well, at least that’s what it looked like. We’d been hanging around the town, mostly ‘cause we were waiting for the Professor to get back from his lab up in the mountains, but also ‘cause we were still trying to figure out what to do about that cat-thing we’d seen and tried to hunt the night before. Anyway, Pete had gone to check out the Museum of Curiosities – something I wasn’t too keen on since I’ve never been a fan of freak shows. I was sitting outside the hotel, just watching the day go by. Eventually though, I got bored and decided to take a walk around town – that wasn’t gonna take all that long but it would give some things to think about when I got back to sittin’.

Then I heard the scream – of course I should have ignored it, but I had started feeling all heroic and everything so I went to check it out. That’s when I met the aforementioned young girl – she was screaming about losing her sister or mother or something, and led me out back of the hotel and pointed at an open root cellar. Now, in the past I’d learned to trust my instincts, but since my mind was elsewhere I started down after letting the rest of the guys know where I was. Too bad for me, since the instant my back was turned the thing masquerading as a girl attacked, opening me up nastily. I fought back of course, but I was pulling my punches – mostly ‘cause I didn’t want to explain a dead girl’s body to the Sheriff. That meant I was going down, but just before I lost consciousness the cat-thing came leaping out of the cellar and chased the girl-thing off. I collapsed to my knees as they disappeared around a corner and Pete appeared around another.

After getting patched up, we hit the local cantina and got some of the best Mexican food I’ve had – fajitas, burritos, tacos, you name it. Even Jasmine showed up – did I mention she’s originally from Texas – drawn by the smell of the food. We all had a good time, and let me just say I went to sleep very satisfied. Tomorrow, ‘Operation Payback’ begins. We need to check out a few more sources of information, but the skin-thief-thing has got to go (by the way, this thing and the girl thing are one-and-the-same). At this point though, I’m beginning to think the cat-thing might actually be more friend than foe. Only time will tell, I suppose.

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Professor’s Log: Halcyon Days
"Never run a bluff with a six-gun." - Bat Masterson

Well we figured out what type of Wild West we were in. The first clue was the zombie raiders. The second was all the ghost rock miners, and the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, was the various and sundry monsters roaming around. Apparently we landed right in the middle of Deadlands. We haven’t met any harrowed yet, at least not that I know of, but there’s no shortage of other Manitou inspired weirdness around.

The one we’re dealing with at the moment is some sort of murderer or creature that skins the bodies of its victims and steals the skins. We don’t know exactly what it’s doing with them, but I’ve got a bad feeling that we’re going to find out soon. We tried setting a trap for it, but the damn thing got away, don’t ask me how. From what we saw, it seemed to be some sort of big cat. It was following/stalking Pete. I’m pretty sure we haven’t seen the last of it.

When we weren’t trying to track down skin-stealing monsters, we decided to check out a local revival meeting happening up in the tent city the miners set up. It was pretty uneventful until the riot started. I’ll give you three guesses who caused that. In all the ruckus, a couple of lanterns got knocked over, and most of the camp went up in flames.

You’d think that would be enough to keep us occupied, but several of us are plotting to either knock over the bank, waylay an opium shipment or rob the stage. There’s even some talk of going for the trifecta and hitting all three. We’ll see what happens.

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Steve's Log 38
The Missed Week

Taggart: We’ll work up a Number 6 on ‘em.
Hedley Lamarr: [frowns] “Number 6”? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that one.
Taggart: Well, that’s where we go a-ridin’ into town, a-whompin’ and a-whumpin’ every livin’ thing that moves within an inch of its life. Except the women folks, of course.
Hedley Lamarr: You spare the women?
Taggart: Naw, we rape the shit out of them at the Number Six Dance later on.
Hedley Lamarr: Marvelous!

~Blazing Saddles

I had just returned to my room and found Sam looking rather irate. She wanted to know why she wasn’t invited to hunt the skinwalker. We argued and I walked out to get some air. She followed and smacked me in the back of the head. I turned on her in anger and grabbed her by the throat. She kneed me in the nads and though I fell to the ground in agony. I started laughing. Sam started laughing too.

We decided to go for a walk in the night. Outside of the town the stars were beautiful and the burning glow of the tent camp up on the hill was quite dazzling. We spoke at length about the future and about our companions. It was about this time that a few cowboys came stumbling out of the dark. I could smell the alcohol on their fetid breath. They pawed at Sam and I threw a punch before I even knew what I was doing. I don’t know what happened but I awoke in a ditch. My head was killing me. The sun was high above and I had no idea where the frak I was.

I went for my pistol and it was gone. So was my tomahawk and my cash. I stood and looked around. Sam was nowhere to be seen. It was then that I noticed my hat and boots were gone too. Anger swelled up inside of me and I had to sit and get myself under control. I looked around and found some horse tracks. I started to follow them. The blistering sun backed my skin and burned me. The lack of water left me parched and delirious. I don’t know how long I walked but it was for at least a couple of days. Finally I found the camp where I saw at least a dozen horses. I walked into camp without a thought for my safety. The first man to see me shouted a warning to his friends and drew his gun. I was on him before he knew what was happening. I shot three times and hit me once but my armored skin ate the bullet and my claws gutted the man. I turned and saw three more coming out of a tent . I ran at them as they drew and pummeled we with lead. My claws took two of them before the third one turned to run. I grabbed up a pistol and shot that fucker in his back. My Vampire ring was healing me fast. I no longer felt burned and my head was now clear.

By now the entire camp was up in arms. The fight that followed a was a blur of chaos. I gutted a couple but most died as I grabbed up the pistols from the dead and fired them until they were empty. Then I would toss them aside and move onto the next corpse. When I saw the horse riding away with Sam tied over the saddle, I shot the beast in the face. Sam and the rider bounced hard on the rocky cracked earth. I charged and the guy turned and plugged me twice with my own gun. The bullets ripped into me through my armor. He had the electrothermal ammo loaded and he knew how to use the gun. My upgrades killed the pain but I knew I was hurt and hurt bad. I charged and leaped high into the air. My fist want back, claws extended, and as I came down I powerdrived the wolvers into the chest of the cowboy. My hat flew from his head as he staggered back. Sam kicked his legs from behind and he tumbled to the ground. He yelled at me and I stopped. I know why I stopped but I did. He said, “ lets do this like men.” He was fucked up and I was fucked up but I wanted this to be done right. I picked up my pistol and looked at the cylinder. Three bullets left. He walked over to the horse and grabbed a gun belt with a .44-70 revolver. It was a monster gun that shot buffalo rounds. I knew if he hit, I was dead.

We both walked away from the carnage to get a clear field of play. I could hear the “pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name” playing in the back of my head. The sun was coming up over the horizon and was in my eyes. Sam spoke up and said something but I never heard her. As the man glanced at her, I think he was saying to shut up, I went for my gun. He saw it and went for his. I saw his gun flare to life as the man pitched over with a bullet that hit him in his left eye. The back of his head exploded and he fell to the ground in a heap. I had survived.

I gathered up Sam and she nursed my wounds. She told me the town was about two days to the east. We looted the camp, gathering up a dozen horses, some guns, and the stuff that had been stolen from me. Between them all we picked up about $200 which was far less than I had hoped. I grabbed that 45-70 revolver but the guy only had a dozen bullets for it.

The ride back to town was done mostly in silence. Sam never told me what happened to her and I didn’t ask. All I can say is that I am tired of men using Sam without her permission. I think I may have to start killing them just for looking at her. Fucking animals.

Colt Cougar 1865 Bullet Comparison 45-70 vs .44 Magnum vs 9mm

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John's Log 34
Weird West 1

Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It’s perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we’ve learned something from yesterday.
John Wayne

I was mistaken: we’d arrived in Halcyon, Colorado and not Denver as I had originally thought. To be honest that’s a bit of a relief, ‘cause Halcyon is a little boom town just barely big enough to be called a ‘town’. Still, it’s a pleasant enough place to be stuck in while we wait for the Device to recharge. I only wish there was a little more to do, but at least I’m getting to spend some time with Jasmine.

After the firefight with the undead raiders, we sold what little gold we had and bought some things to fit in a little better – my Hawaiian shirt was really sticking out, if you know what I mean. Then we proceeded to get to know the town a little – basically, if you’ve seen a John Wayne or Clint Eastwood movie, you can imagine the sort of place Halcyon is. Not exactly boring, but definitely not all that energetic either. Steve and Sam took some of the group riding, and wound up running into some sorta underground worm-thing that tried to eat them and their horses. Kinda made me glad I hadn’t taken part in the outing.

The night life’s not too bad, all things considered. At least one of the saloons – the Brass Dog – won’t allow females in after a certain time, but that just means we’ve been hanging out in the other saloon – the Dixie Peach. Works for us, but I wish the beer was cold. We’ve also been to the local China Town, which is on the outskirts of the town – some of the best dumplings I’ve ever had, but that might be because I haven’t had any Chinese food in about a year. That same night we decided to check out a Revival up in the miners’ camp on the other side of town – that was fun until Steve decided to play ‘dueling preachers’ with the Reverend running the show, and wound up starting a riot – you just know we’re gonna pay for that one eventually.

We’ve also been finding the occasional skinned corpse around town – yeah, the sort of thing that most sane people would take as a sign to leave town. ‘Course, if you’re still reading these logs of ours, you might have come to the conclusion that we’re not all there, at least most of the time (though we do have the occasional bout of lucidity, which inevitable leads us in the wrong direction, so go figure). The corpses put us into the mood to do a spot of monster hunting (see, not all there), so we set up an ambush and decided to use Pete as the bait. It almost worked, but whatever it was is smarter and more cunning than we had first thought; plus it has the damnedest luck – Steve had the thing in his crosshairs, and just as he took a shot a big-ass bat flew right into the path of the bullet. The bat was dead, but the shot just told our quarry where we were. I tried giving chase but slipped when I tried the easy jump to the next roof; Steve tried another shot and his gun jammed. I’m not sure what befell Pete and John, but the long and short of the whole night is that whatever it was got away. To make matters worse, we didn’t get a clear look at it, but I’m sure it knows what we look like. That’s gonna make any future hunts all that more difficult.

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Steve's Log 37

“There is no law, no restraint in this seething cauldron of vice and depravity.”
~The New York Tribune

The Wild WIld West started out as a pretty dismal place. We survived the zombie onslaught only to be presented with nothing to do. We decided to trade in some of our gold for cash and do some shopping and drinking. Later Sam and I tool a group out horse back riding. It was fun watching the look of joy and fear on Stephanie’s face. I don’t think she had ever seen a horse before and to see her approaching it with apprehension and then the sudden transformation to joy as she learned how to ride, well to say the least, it was pretty cool. Even Alice, who also had never been on a Horse was having fun. The joy ride got cut short when we were attacked by a Rattler. I don’t mean a snake but rather a giant wormlike creature with tentacles. We escaped but the thing is still out there.

Back in town we heard about a revival and while discussing the merits of going we took a trip to the celestial part of town. John bought us some good authentic Chinese food and I brokered a deal for a pound of opium. The old guy I got it from seemed impressed that I spoke Chinese and let it slip that a huge shipment of Opium was due in a couple of days. I think we should try stealing said shipment but a couple of a days is a long way off. Following the meal we decided to head up to Niggerville or Diggertown or some other stupid name. The place is a tent city for the miners. There we got to watch some asshole minister tell us about the fires of hell that awaited us. I could contain myself no longer and jumped up on a chair and started my own brand of preaching. Pete started playing his guitar and getting the mood set. I told the crowd about Cthulhu, Dagon, and Mother Hydra. I even threw in some Hyborian sex cult stuff. The next thing I knew, the preacher and I were having a good old fashioned duel of words. The crowd was getting agitated and excited. I sent Sam in with a bucket to collect donations and she ripped open her shirt and flashed her perfect tits for all to see. She worked that crowd like a pro. John and the Professor slipped away and it was then I noticed the tensions were getting a bit high. Pete, Sam, and I beat feet just as the riot started. We saw a bunch of people chasing us and tossed back a stick of dynamite to scare them off. We escaped but for hours after we could see the fires of the tent city burning on the horizon combined with a symphony of gunshots and screams.

Back in town we discovered a skinned person, the second in two days. We decided to hunt the beast doing this and soon were in a chase with a catlike creature that escaped us by turning into a person as it entered one of the whore houses. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

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Pete's Log #6
Fun Time in Super Town

“I believe… whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you…stranger.”

Christine is a strange bird. I can tell that she is interested yet she continuously holds me at arm’s length. We’ll hook up and have some fun and then she disappears for weeks. When she returns, she’s as warm as can be. However, if I get too close she retreats. And of course, when she needs me for something, she’s all sorts of chummy. Reminds me of a cat now that I think about it.

Where is this going you may wonder… Fear not, for I have a tale and it will intrigue you for I have found a great dimension for us all.

We arrived in the great City of Metropolis on a balcony of a high rise directly across from the Daily Planet. Christine had managed to obtain an apartment in the city and had set up an observation post on the balcony. As you may have guessed, she’s not much of a nerd and knows very little about superhero lore. She needed me as a consultant. She was in search of the lasso of truth and I was to be her subject matter expert (SME as in military terms). I had told her that it was a tool of the superhero Wonder Woman. She had heard of Wonder Woman before but knew nothing about her, what her capabilities were, or who else we’d have to encounter in this world.

I explained to her that Wonder Woman is not someone you just take stuff from. That she is an extremely powerful person; one I did not look forward to crossing. And that doesn’t even remotely count her friends. I told her that if she didn’t have one hell of a plan, we’d end up beaten and probably arrested. She just smiled, told me I was cute, and told me not to worry about it; that she had it covered.

The only person she really knew anything about was Superman. She knew he was Clark Kent, he worked at the Daily Planet, and he was friends with Wonder Woman. She even showed me a little green rock that she got from Asmode in Club Inferno. Clever girl.

She had managed to secure a bunch of supplies and a pair of invites to Luther Corps charity ball. Anyone who was anyone in Metropolis would be there as would the press. That meant Mr. Kent was likely to show and with the internet being what it is, we knew exactly what he looked like.

Skipping past all of the boring parts…

We met Mr. Kent and Christine managed to slip a small tracer on him which led us to his apartment. I was terrified that all of his super crap would find said bug or at least hear us following him and get us caught. However, he was very intoxicated and had a young woman helping him home. I thought this some sort of rouse but as it turns out, this was to be a very different DC than you and I would recognize.

The next day after the bimbo did the walk of shame and Clark left for work, Christine and I went in. Christine used some sort of high tech scanner to find a secret panel in his wall. Using my sonic screwdriver, Christine showed me what to do to activate it. Under her direction, I was then able to open the door.

Inside lay everything we needed. Mr. Kent had a massive computer system (all Wayne Tech of course). This was way off the nerd map for me. It turns out that the Fortress of Solitude is in Mr. Kent’s condo. Anyway, we were able to find the frequencies and codes for most of the Legion; including one Diana Prince. He even had her home address.

We bugged out and left everything as we came in. Christine was good like that. We went back to the condo and celebrated with a little booze and some much needed shagerry.

The next morning we got down to business. Apparently, the Hall of Justice is actually a chain and there is one in every major city. The one located in Metropolis is run by Wonder Woman and Superman and has several younger members, several of which I’ve never heard of. This probably has to do with the fact that superpowers here are way more in line with reality than they are in the comics and movies. Supermen does not actually fly here. He flies in the”super jet” with the rest of the team.

We found Diana’s house and scouted out. She runs her own layer firm a couple blocks down the road and seems to walk to work most days. We waited for her to leave and headed in. Again, Christine bypassed all of “Wayne’s security” and in we went. It didn’t take long with her scanner and my sonic screwdriver to find her secret basement headquarters which was much like Kent’s. It housed her super toys and costumes, a small workshop, crime lab, and filing system. We didn’t care about any of that stuff, all we wanted was the lasso. We found 20 and none of them matched the description. These were more of a smart cable with an electric power source. It was basically made to ensnare a victim and shock them into submission. It would seem that truth was given at the threat of pain. “Talk mother fucker or I’ll zap your ass again!” How do I know that you might ask…

Disappointed, we headed out. This was not the Lasso of Truth. Christine knew the real one was made of rope and had some sort of mystical properties. We must’ve been in the wrong version of DC. As we came out of the basement we realized that Wayne Tech is actually better than Christine thought. Before us stood The Man of Steel and Princess Diana. Oh shit.

Christine went into action before I could even begin to try to talk out way out. She told me to take out the bitch, reached into her pocket, and charged Superman.

Diana looked at me and just smiled. I rushed her and came in with a left jab. I don’t think she was expecting me to be so fast because I connected before she could get her block up. I also don’t think she realized how strong I was because I also dazed her ass and followed through with a kick to the midsection. She actually sailed out of the window. “Hah! Take that Wonder Bitch” I yelled. Yelled because I was in shock and terrified all at once.

Christine pulled her hand out and went for a left cross on Superman. The cocky fuck just let her hit him. I guess he figured that a skinny little woman couldn’t possibly hurt him and he was right. Normally, Christine would have probably have broken her hand on his face. However, the kryptonite rock she clutched drove her fist home. Supermen went down like a sack of bricks. She actually put him out. She knocked Superman out with one punch.

I quickly drew my bow and notched an arrow. Christine asked where the “Wonder Cunt” went and I pointed my arrow at the broken window. Just then she flew in through the opening and landed just 10 feet from me. I fired and she actually deflected the arrow with those damn arm bands. She then whipped out her rope. It flew like a living snake and wrapped around me. That’s when I got the first hit of juice. It lit me up like a Christmas tree. Damn that hurt.

Christine drew a pistol and fired. Diana defected her shot and blasted me again. Christine opened up. Blam, blam, blam, blam… Diana had to let go of the rope to block all of the incoming. I drew another arrow and fired. She blocked it again but this time I had used one of my sticky arrows. Ain’t I a stinker?

With Superman out and Wonder Woman fighting to get free, Christine grabbed me, squeezed the matrix and poof, we were gone.

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