DISCLAIMER

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ BLOODWORTH I, II, AND III, STOP READING AND READ THEM NOW ON BOOKRIX.

THEY ARE CRUCIAL TO THE PLOT AND ORIGINS.

 

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. ANYTHING POLITICALLY INCORRECT IS THERE FOR A REASON.

 

 

Prologue: Daylight

PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

10:21 P.M, SATURDAY

1945

 

"PETER! HANS! TYLER! YOU SHOULD COME AND SEE THIS!" screamed Abhy from the living room. All three men stormed into the living room. "Abhy, vhat's vrong?" Hans questioned her. She pointed at the television in front of her and turned up the volume on the remote. A news reporter informed the four people:

 

"We have breaking news in Helena, Montana! It appears that the Fuhrer has been ASSASSINATED in his office!" 

 

Everybody cheered, "HOORAY!" 

 

"BUT it now just came across my desk that what remains of the Masked Terror is inside of a cold molten-nickel statue within his office. Viewer discretion is advised for this next part." 

The camera then shifted to a statue of Phoenix flipping everybody off with two middle fingers. Peter's eyes locked onto the horrible sight of Phoenix, frozen as a statue. Abhy, clutching her pregnant stomach, said, "No.... NO! PHOENIX, NO!"

Peter punched the wall twice out of anger. "No.... THAT'S NOT TRUE. TELL US THAT'S NOT FUCKING TRUE!" 

 

"Kommandant Hermann Fegelein, the Fuhrer's assistant, is now on the scene. Take it away Fe-"

 

"Hallo, Americans. I am- Vait, is zhis thing on? Yes? Vell, anyvays.... I am your Fuhrer's most trusted assistant, before he has passed avay. So in order to keep stability, I vill take his place as Fuhrer. Zhe third person in zhe hierarchy, Albrecht Nertozkien, vill be the 2nd in zhe hierarchy. If anybody opposes zhis idea, zhey vill be executed in public. AS FOR zhe 'legendary' Masked Terror, as a figurehead to show EVERYBODY not to perform what zhis... LUNATIC did, his body vill be placed in display at the center of Helena. Zhe Fuhrer's funeral vill be arranged by his wife, and everybody will go about his or her day. And for zhe last time... Heil Hitler." 

 

Peter snatched the remote and turned the television off. Then he dropped it. "Great. Now what do we do? The toughest man we've had is on display like a knight's suit of armor," Tyler implied. Peter shook his head. "I don't know, man. Abhy, you're the closest he had.. What's your position on this? We'll do what you say for here on out." 

 

Abhy was sitting their crying, and told the three, "Leave me alone for a few minutes. I need to grieve without anyone in here." 

 

 

"Phoenix. He's actually gone. He's really gone. And we're stuck sitting here like sitting ducks with no mother to guide them. We're weak, exposed, we're all vulnerable. But wait... Peter, don't doubt yourself on this... They said cold frozen and molten nickel... So he's alive! To keep him frozen, he has to be on a freezing platform. Without it, he'll break free. So I have to destroy the platform and then melt the nickel. 

 

Sounds good on paper. But I'm pretty sure the Nazis are a good obstacle. Time to get to work."

 

BLOODWORTH IV

WRITTEN BY TAI GOODMAN

CONTINUING OFF OF BLOODWORTH III: BLUT UND STAHL

Chapter I: Preparing the Hammer

1 YEAR SUBSEQUENT TO THE INCIDENT

 

Peter walked over to a mirror and said, "Well, let me catch YOU up to speed-"

"Hey, who are you talking to?" Tyler questioned him.

 

"Uhh... Nobody." 

 

Tyler walked away, and Peter continued, "So... Right. Abhy gave birth to little Joseph. Tyler's doing his best to make an uprising by spreading propaganda he printed illegally.... Hans is acting like a husband to Abhy, to nurture the child, and I reclaimed my job as the gun-store manager. Yeah. That's all you- Actually, no, I quit that job to do the plan we're doing now." 

 

Tyler walked back in. "PETER. You sure you're alright?"

 

"YES. YES TYLER. I'M ALRIGHT."

 

"Not breaking the fourth wall we put in, are we?" 

 

"NO. I AM NOT. I broke that last week."

 

"OH GODDAM-"

 

*TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. PLEASE STAND BY!*

 

"Alright. One last time: Abhy's got a kid, Tyler's printing shit, Hans is blah blah blah, and I'm trying to get ready to get Phoenix outta Montana. So now you know the whole story? Great. Cause I'm not gonna explain this stuff to you every single time 24/7."

Peter felt the tip of a metal baseball bat. "Got this puppy in... High School, I think. Held onto it ever since. Let's go test this out." 

 

FILL-'ER-UP GAS STATION

NEU ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

 

"It's Peter, bitch, we're doing this shit." 

He walked into the gas station with his leather coat, baseball shirt on, and a pair of sunglasses. "Let's kick some ass." A Nazi walked over to the gas station counter and placed a bag of chips on the counter. "Einheiten or cash please?" the store clerk asked the man. "Einheiten, hold on," the soldier responded, swiping his credit card into the machine. The store clerk then noticed Peter standing there with a baseball bat. "WHOA- HEY HEY HEY, let's not do anything rash, alright?"

 

He then ducked under the counter. The Nazi turned and then unholstered his rifle to point it at Peter. "Don't point that shit at me, or I'm gonna kick your ass!" Peter threatened the Nazi. The Nazi stood there for a second and started laughing. Peter shrugged his shoulders. "HEY! DOUCHE-CANOE! This ain't comedy night, the hell's so funny?"

 

The Nazi pointed to Peter and indicated, "You- YOU ZHINK YOU SCARE ME? NEIN! Not at ALL you dummkopf! So place zhat 'club' down on the ground and get on your stomach, you are under arrest for threatening a soldier on duty and bringing a weapon into un store." 

Peter grinned. "I wouldn't have told me that if I were you." 

"VHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT, all YOU have is a bat. I have a firearm!" the soldier said, and then began to continue his rant about how Peter was the least scariest thing on this Earth of all time. While he was still blabbering about it, Peter shook his head and said, "....Oh my God, SHUT UP." 

Peter swung the bat and whacked the Nazi in the side of his face. 

"AGHHH! ARGH!" 

Peter walked over to the Nazi and kicked his rifle away. "Head-sized baseball on a torso-sized tee." His fingers gripped the bat with strength. "See you in Hell, UGLY!" Peter taunted him. He bashed the Nazi's skull so hard, his eyeball popped out of its socket. Then he slammed it down a few more times. The gas station clerk dialed 911. "Hello, operator, there's a thug here at the Fill-Er-Up Gas Station, we need some help!"

 

Peter slammed the metal baseball bat down on the phone's dock. "Call denied, retard." 

He looked around and stole the Nazi's rifle from in the aisle and proceeded outside. Another Nazi appeared. "ACHTUNG!" 

"ENGLISH, ASSHOLE!"

 

Peter broke the Nazi's neck with a powerful smack across the face with the bat. He proceeded back over to his vehicle and climbed inside. With his fingers, he dug around in his pocket for the key. "C'mon.... C'MON!" Peter complained. Then he felt the big round piece of the car keys. "Bingo-bango!"

 

Peter inserted the key into the ignition and the car's engine purred nicely. He stomped on the gas pedal and escaped the crime scene. "Jeez, Phoenix makes it look so easy. I'm gonna have to train to get to his level." 

 

Chapter II: Banging the Nail

 PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

 

Peter was driving back into the neighborhood right when he noticed every single house had one of Tyler's propaganda posters on it. That also includes Phoenix's house. "Wonder how many trees he had to kill just to post pieces of paper all over every single person's door." 

He exited the vehicle and walked up to the door, ripping the piece of paper off. "Hey! Keep that on! We need it to blend in!" said Tyler, walking outside of the garage. "Oh, alright, my bad. Jackass." 

"I HEARD THAT!"

Peter walked into the garage and plopped himself down in the chair. "So how'd it go... You going to the gas station with all that shit on you. I know you went there just to kill someone in order to get Phoenix out of the hole he's in." 

Peter looked up and answered, "Of course. I killed two Nazis with this here bat. Took longer than I thought, though."

"Well do me a favor, think about this before you go back out there to go 'practice' again: If YOU can kill YOU, then that means you better come up with some better tactics."

 

Peter got an idea. "Let's process this..." 

He imagined himself fighting another version of himself. They both looked identical and wielded baseball bats. "ALRIGHT ASSHOLE!" the two insulted each other. They clashed bats, and then scratched their heads. "Huh?"

Then they repeated the same thing. "COME ON, QUIT COPYING ME!" they both complained.

 

Peter's train of thought changed. "And let's see how it would work if I fought Phoenix..."

He imagined himself fighting Phoenix. "ALRIGHT, LET'S DO THIS! COME AT ME IF YOU AREN'T SCARED!" taunted Peter. Phoenix shrugged his shoulders and then told his cyberpistole, "Fragmentation." 

The ammunition type changed, and he exploded the top part of Peter's body with an explosive bullet. "Checkmate," he said as a remark. Then out of nowhere, two women walked over to him and stood by his side. "Quit bleeding, PUSSY."

 

"Yeah... I think he's right."

 

Peter pulled out a bunch of metal sheets. "This shit's gonna have nuts in it."

Over the lapse of an hour, Peter nailed a bunch of metal sheets around the bat's round surface, then strapped barbed wire around it. He held it up with one hand. "This thing says 'Nazi face massage' all over it." 

 Tyler walked inside with a stack of propaganda. "Hey, before you start talking to yourself again, I nearly got away but I found a place in Neu Orleans where there was a Nazi hideout or some shit. Fiddler's Drive. Apartment building. You should go over there, pay them a 'visit' and tell them who really runs things here." 

 

Peter nodded and then answered, "I can't deny the entertainment in that." 

Chapter III: Breaking and Entering

 NEU ORLEANS

FIDDLER'S DRIVE

'ABANDONED' APARTMENT BUILDING

10:35 P.M

 

Peter arrived at the location in his car. The apartment building looked trashed and abandoned, but it wasn't. He patted the grip of his bat in his hands. "Can't wait to try you out." And then a figure walked by his door and pointed a pistol at his head. "And I can't wait to try my new gun out." 

Peter, without looking the person in the eye, stayed still. "Yeah. You can try it out on a clay pigeon or a tin can, but not me. What do you want?" he offered to the figure. The figure's thumb knocked the hammer down on the back of the gun. Peter saw the face of the figure in the mirror. It was a woman. Hair shaped like a ball, black lipstick covering her lips, scars on her cheeks. "Hey, wanna hear something funny? Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. So you're a pretty big ASSHOLE if you don't let me go." 

"Was I supposed to be ashamed or threatened?" 

"I dunno, both?"

 

The door swung open and Peter was snagged by his jacket. "HEY! HEY! WAIT! DON'T SHOOT- I'M SORRY! ALRIGHT? I'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT, JUST DON'T HURT ME!"

The woman yanked Peter by his shirt collar close to her face. "What I want is to tell me why you're here. And if you don't, I'll call for help and the shitbags in the building will come outside." 

"Alright, alright, calm your tits! Jeez! I was sent here to clear out this place of the Nazi scumbags."

She dragged him closer to her face. "Sent? BY WHO?"

"Actually, scratch that, I wasn't sent, I was just told about this location," Peter answered her. He felt the barrel of a handgun push against his ear. 

"So you're a liar?"

"FUCK NO I'M NOT A LIAR."

Peter was then released by the woman. "I like your attitude. I'll give you a pass for that. Go on in and kill 'em all, not like I'm gonna stop you."

 

Peter twirled his bat around. "Time to fill up the graveyard." He walked through the empty entrance to the building and took a corner around a trashed hallway. The first room to his left had a fluorescent light on inside, shining out into the hallway in a vertically tall rectangle of yellow light. "Ist das der letzte von ihnen?" 

Peter's eyebrows rose as he concealed himself by the frame of a doorway. "Wow. Someone's not very discreet, are they?"

"Ja, ja. Beeil dich und geh rein!" 

Peter peeked past the doorway and watched two Nazis out of uniform climb into a hole in the floor. "What the fuck?"

Then from another direction, someone screamed, "JUNGS! Jemand hat uns gefunden!" 

Peter spun around and noticed a Nazi with an assault rifle standing there in terror. "Should've kept your trap shut, asshole!" Peter insulted him, sprinting in the Nazi's direction. He charged forwards and smacked the Nazi in his face, leaving a huge mark on the man's face. "Argh..." 

Peter kicked him in the chest and then continued to give him a beatdown with the bat. "NAZI- BASTARD!" he grunted at him, smashing his head to a pulp. He then heard an elevator in the center of the hallway go DING DING! 

"Think fast, Peter. You've got under a second." Peter looked down and snatched the assault rifle. "HALLO! Was ist mit all der Aufregung?" Nazis in the elevator said, walking out. These Nazis didn't look similar to the others Peter has seen. They were out of uniform as well. One had a skateboard on his back, and swastikas facepainted on his face. The other one besides him had a tanktop with huge muscles. Peter took aim, and shot the first one three times in his face, and missed two shots. The acquaintance of the other one sprinted back into the elevator. "OH NO YOU DON'T!"

Peter darted to the double doors closing, and shoved the barrel of his assault rifle in between them. The doors detected a disturbance between them and opened again, revealing the Nazi hiding along the side of the elevator. "NEIN! STERBEN!!!!"

The Nazi pulled out two handguns and began a barrage of gunfire, causing Peter to sprint out of the way of the double doors. "SON OF A BITCH!" 

He looked out from the doors and spotted Peter standing there. He fired one shot, and hit Peter in his arm. "Holy fuck, that actually hurt." Peter, out of anger, flung his assault rifle at the man and the tip of the barrel punched him in the stomach. While stunned, Peter whipped out the bat he had holstered. "YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING PAY FOR THAT!"

Peter gripped it with both hands as the Nazi composed himself, ready to fire again. "Fucker." 

He ducked and slid across the wooden floor, kicking the Nazi in his shin and knocking him over his head. The heels of his shoes prevented him from sliding anymore, and Peter rose up. The enemy was gripping his knee, and Peter showed his menacing face towards him. "You... YOU'RE A DEAD MAN." 

Peter slammed the bat down on the man's skull, and then again and again. He double tapped him, and then stomped the remains of his skull again. Peter wielded one of the man's handguns. "Tiny as hell, but pretty powerful if it did that much damage." Peter clutched his bleeding wound to block the bleeding. He then trotted upstairs. "Ring around the rosey, pocket full of posies." He arrived at the second floor, which was the top floor. The lights were all off on the floor. "Machen Sie sich bereit, er wird jede Sekunde hier sein!"

 

All doors were locked but one. Peter walked past a hole with light shining through it. "Wait... Go back." He reversed and then examined the hole. "What's in there?" He stared through the small hole. There was a methamphetamine laboratory inside. It was constructed with poor man's materials. On very cramped tables that were close together were various sets of beakers, chemical containers, powders, and pipes. Nazi soldiers were also around the room. Right in front of the hole, there was a meth table. Completely set up. Meth was brewing inside of it. "Not your day, is it?" he whispered to himself. Peter pointed the stub of the pistol into the hole, and pulled the trigger- 

 

KABEW!!!

 

The wall was destroyed by an explosion inside. Bricks and stone fell from the ceiling. "GODDAMN, MY EARS ARE RINGING!" 

With his hands covering his ears, Peter climbed out of the rubble and looked at the destroyed meth lab. Every soldier was dead but one, who was walking to the door to the lab. Peter aimed his pistol at him and said, "FREEZE!" 

The ringing was still present, however. The Nazi dropped his gun and started staggering around. Then he turned and showed the other half of his body, all charred and burned. "....Unngh... Mein leben..."

He fell face-first into the floor. Peter wiped soot and dirt off of his face. "Guess this place is clear." He headed back downstairs and then remembered, "Wait...." 

Peter strolled to the room on the first floor with the hole inside of it. There was a ladder going deep into a cave, where Nazis were disposing bodies in bathtubs of acid. "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT DID I JUST WALK IN ON?"

There were three Nazis in sight. He pulled the magazine out of the receiver of the pistol. Five shots. Loading back in, he alligned the ironsights with a Nazi's head, pushing a body deeper into a tub. "Alright, it's your time."

POP! 

Peter shot the Nazi in the back of his skull, alarming the other two. "ACHTUNG!" one said, ducking underneath a table. The other one was stuck with no cover, but the bathtubs. He ducked behind one. 

Peter examined the ceramic tub, and fired twice. One bullet hit the rim. The other traveled through the hole pouring out acid and caused a hole in the other side. The startled enemy jumped up, grasping his foot. "AHHHH! AH! AHHHHHH!"

POP!

One round traveled through the man's throat. He landed in the puddle of acid that was eating at the floor. The last Nazi cocked his semi-automatic German rifle and stood up against Peter. "AMERICAN!"

He fired at the hole, but Peter ended the man's life with one shot to his head. 

Peter then heard footsteps behind him. “Bogey on your six.” He swung around, aiming the pistol with both hands at the woman from before. “Oh, it’s you,” he reacted, holstering the pistol into his pants.

“Yeah, sorry for the scare, but you mind taking me with you?”

“Umm… Who- Why?”

“I’ve got nowhere to go. That’s why- And NO, I didn’t live in this pile of trash. I’ve been on the street. Only reason I came around here is because those pigs had food and water.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. I guess. But what’s your name? I never got your name.”

 

“Natasha. Nastasha Poppinov. Yes, I’m Russian, but I was born here in the United States, so I sound like a full blodded American.” 

"Nice to meet you. Name's Peter. Peter Shkeppaltiger."

The two walked out to the car and then heard the city-wide intercom announce, “Attention. Residents of Neu Orleans, I am Kommandant Enrich Meindabann. Zhere is another murderer here in zhis city, one who is vearing the following items: Sunglasses, a red leather jacket, a baseball T-Shirt, and blue jeans. He also carries a baseball bat. If you spot someone matching zhis description, report it immediately.”

Natasha looked at Peter’s apparel. “I should drive, you give me the directions.”

Chapter IV: The Adventures of Captain Pain-Train

 Peter noticed a handle on the back of the seat. "The fuck's this?" he asked, pulling the handle down. A slot rolled out revealing a bunch of comic books and magazines. "Oh, so THIS is where Abhy put all my comics when she cleaned the car. Man, so many of these were some of the good ones!"

He yanked out one. The issue was labeled, "THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN PAIN-TRAIN, ISSUE 1."

"What'd you find back there?" Natasha questioned Peter. Peter whipped the comic book open. "Found a bunch of antique comic books. I love these things."

 

He started reading... 

 

 

THE ADVENTURE OF CAPTAIN PAIN-TRAIN, ISSUE 1

WRITTEN BY TIMOTHY DIAMOND

ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN K. JONAS

Published by DEEP FREEZE COMICS INC.

 

"IN AN INSANE WORLD FULL OF INSANE MEN, ONE MAN LURKS AROUND, SYMBOLIZING PUNISHMENT IN THIS GUILTY TOWN. HIS NAME IS.... CAPTAIN PAIN-TRAIN! Issue #1, the Breaking Backs and Causing Cracks." 

A woman was shoved to the ground by three robbers. "HA HA HA HA HA! Lady, this purse ain't yours no mores! It's ourses, NOW! And you cain't do a THING ABOUT IT!" one of them taunted her. She screamed, "SOMEBODY! HELP! THESE MEN ARE CRAZY!"

One of the robbers pointed a pistol at the woman. "YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" he remarked, opening her mouth and inserting the barrel in between her teeth. "SAY GOODNIGHT!"

Then a punch out of nowhere knocked that robber out. "No, it is YOU WHO SHALL SAY GOODNIGHT, FIEND!" said CPP. Lightning struck elsewhere, and the flash revealed the costumed hero. His face was cloaked with a red mask. The center symbol was a train with a fist in front of it. The rest of his outfit was black as darkness. 

"OH MY LORD! BOSS, IT'S- IT'S- CAPTAIN PAIN-TRAIN!" the second one screamed in terror. He fainted and landed backwards. The last one standing ripped his shirt off and revealed the costume underneath. "YOU THINK I'M SCAREDS, CAPTAIN PAIN-TRAIN? WELL YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE COMING!"

 

Two dual-submachine guns appeared in the man's hands. Captain Pain-Train held up two fists, ready for a brawl. "Tommy Gunn, you foul criminal.... WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE ON THESE STREETS?"

"BUSINESS THAT AIN'T YOURS, PUNK! Now you oughta leave with bullets in you, or you oughta die HERE with bullets in you!" Tommy responded. He pulled both triggers and fired away at Captain Pain-Train. CPP's six-pack abs on his chest buffed out. "I EAT PAIN FOR BREAKFAST, FOOL!" 

 

The lead bullets were absorbed into the vortex of CPP's chest. Tommy stopped firing and complained, "WHAT IN THE WORLD?! HOW'D YOU DO THAT?"

 

CPP bent both of the barrels downwards and said, "You're facing the pain train, Gunn. NOW FACE MY FISTS OF FURY!" 

He gave him an entire beatdown with a barrage of fists launching repeatedly at Tommy's face. 

Police officers drove by the area and said, "Captain Pain-Train, glad to see you here! I bet if we tried to take him on, we would have been swiss-cheese!" 

 

"You're safe now. And YOU are too!" CPP told the officers and the woman-

 

 

The car came to a tough stop, and Peter shut the comic on accident. "The hell just happened?" Peter asked, rustled by the halt. He peeked over the seat and noticed Natasha staring through the windshield at a bunch of KKK members in front of a brick wall, legs spread as well as their hands. "Did you zhink zhat vas funny? Killing one of our men in public?"

"HE LOOKED LIKE A SPIC!"
"HE VAS COVERED IN MUD FROM A PAST OPERATION, YOU DUMMKOPFS! YOU AREN'T ONLY STUPID, BUT BLIND AS WELL! Are you telling me you don't know vhat each undesirable looks like? HUH?" 

 

Natasha whispered, "It's that stupid group... The Ku Klux Klan. They're like the Nazis, but they hate the blacks more." 

Peter peeked through his window and identified all of the people on that corner. "We should go kill all of them, RIGHT NOW," Peter demanded from himself and Natasha. 

"What? Why?" 

"Because I hate 'em. Those are the kinds of people I despise of. You know the Masked Terror? I worked with him. I know him personally, I HELPED HIM get to where he is now. My mission's to get him out of that tight spot." 

Natasha slinged a butterfly-knife around her fingers, and did a few tricks before she gripped the entire handle of the knife together. "You ready?" she asked. 

Peter, surprised she agrees, picked up his baseball bat. "Let's fuck 'em up." 

The two exited the vehicle and walked across the street. Natasha crouched down and started walking over to the Nazi's position, quietly. "Man, she's as silent as a fucking church mouse." Natasha crept up behind the Nazi, and stabbed him in the back. "AHHHH! MEIN RUCKEN!" 

The Nazi swung around with the knife still in his back and spotted Natasha. She wielded her pistol and fired at shot into the Nazi's head. Peter stole her pistol and said, "ARE YOU CRAZY? PEOPLE COULD'VE FUCKING HEARD THAT!"

"I WAS GONNA GET SHOT!"
"WELL YOU COULD'VE DONE SOMETHING LIKE DISARM HIM!"

 

The KKK members started to flee. "STOP THOSE IDIOTS!" Peter called out. He sprinted over to one of the members and bashed his skull in, desecrating his outfit in blood. Peter stomped in his face and turned to another one who had a kitchen knife. "Don't come near me unless you want t'get killed, y'hear?!" 

Peter gripped the bat with both hands. "Try me, I DARE YOU!" 

The KKK member sprinted over to him and plunged the knife past Peter on accident. Peter swung his bat and the KKK member ducked directly underneath it as it flew by. "ASSHOLE!"
Peter felt a sharp blade plunge into his leg. "GODDAMN! MY LEG! YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!" Peter screamed out, breaking the KKK member's leg with his bat. He then slammed the bat into the other knee of the enemy, and then repeatedly slammed the bat down into the man's face. 

Natasha on the other hand was stabbing the life out of a KKK member on the ground. Peter watched her gut the man to death in cold blood. "He deserved it anyways. If it's one thing I learned, you can't leave gangs. Your mark is still in their snow. It'll haunt you for the rest of your life, even if it gets swept away." 

 

Chapter V: Acute

 PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

 

"Well, we're here. Home sweet home," Peter informed Natasha. A two story house with a garage and a driveway. Peter walked inside and said to everyone sitting in the living room, "Alright, guys, I brought a guest, her name is Natasha. You make her feel welcome, alright?" he told everyone. Natasha set foot in Phoenix's house. 

"Hello, everybody... I guess."

Tyler dragged Peter into the garage. "C'MERE FRANCINE, TELL ME WHY YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO BRING SOMEONE ELSE HERE. It could be a fucking GESTAPO for all we know!"

"Fuck off, man. She's got nowhere to go. I found her outside the building you sent me to."

"WELL... Is she a Nazi?"

"I'm not stupid, I wouldn't bring a Nazi to a place that produces and posts anti-Nazism propaganda."

"We've already got goddamned coyotes scratching at our door. Don't need another fucking one."

"Well let her stay the night in my room and we'll she what she does."

"Alright, FINE. But only this once. We don't run a fucking bed-and-breakfast, we run a headquarters."

 

Peter was then shoved over to his workbench. "Jerk." He placed his bat onto the workbench and looked at it. Barbed wire, cold steel, and a whole load of weight. "Let's give you another upgrade," Peter whispered to it. He looked at the side of it. "Takes a lot of effort to swing, can tire me out. Better fix that issue right away." That entire night, Peter stayed up late modifying his baseball bat. His workspace became more crowded and crowded with blueprints and metal objects. Peter bolted a place for a trigger alongside the bat's grip. "Structure looks good." He wired the trigger to the back of the grip, that traveled up the bat to near the top. The wire hooked up nicely to a miniature thruster in the back of the bat. Peter wielded the bat and then pulled the trigger, causing the thruster to let him swing the bat around a lot quicker than before. "DAMN this thing is quick. It's perfect."

 

Abhy walked into the garage where Peter was working. "Peter.... What are you doing down here? It is 2 in the morning... Go get some sleep!" she said, staggering around drowsy. 

Peter showed her his new weapon. "I was tinkering on my bat."

"Well tinker tomorrow, you scared me with whatever you were doing."

Peter reviewed a blueprint he had for tomorrow. "Kommandant's gotta be stopped.... Blah blah blah, plan you don't wanna listen to, AND BOOM. Perfect. BUT IN CASE YOU DO want to hear it, here's the detailed version:

 

Phoenix is on an electronic freezing platform. We can destroy the connection and the flow of the platform with an electromagnetic pulse grenade or device. Once that's done, I use a heating device to melt the molten nickel. So I need two things. But I also need to clear my name from this place." 

 

 

 

Chapter VI: The Gate

 FIRST MISSION

ELIMINATE ENRICH MEINDABANN

MISSION ENGAGED

 

Peter walked over to his car, but before he stepped inside, Natasha spoke, "Peter! Wait! Don't go yet!" 

He stopped and faced Natasha. "Mhmm?"

"Let me come with you."

Peter tossed his baseball bat into the back seat, and answered, "You sure you want to come with me? Whatever I'm doing is extremely dangerous and could get you killed." 

"I've been through worse."

"Alrighty then... I guess you can come with me." 

 

Natasha entered the vehicle and strapped herself in. Peter climbed into the driver's seat, wearing new apparel to fool the security forces. A fur coat, a white fiber tanktop, gloves to cover up leaving fingerprints, combat pants, and the same boots. "Let's get ready to roll." 

Peter and Natasha drove off into Neu Orleans. "Alright, so let me go over what we're doing: The Kommandant on the comms system, he's looking for me. We need to find the location of the frequency and track it."

"Okay I don't know all this technological shit, what are we doing in more SIMPLER terms?"

 

"UGH. Alright: We go find the station broadcasting the guy who talks to find where the guy is talking. And we kill him." 

"That's better."

 

Peter stopped at a red light and looked both ways. Four people crossed the street once the alert sounded. Once all were across, the stoplight turned green. The signal inside of the car spoke, "Proceed." Peter stepped on the gas and drove forwards. As he was cruising by, a Nazi was on the side of the road, writing someone a ticket. "Feel bad for that guy, but I'm betting what he got in trouble for wasn't for speeding." Natasha flicked her fingers against the bobblehead of Phoenix that Peter kept on the dash. "You like that? Made it myself."

"It's cool."

"Yeah... Took me a while because i had to carve out the wood and paint it specifically and all that jazz." 

The Phoenix Bobblehead's head was swinging around, then slowed down, while still rumbling to the symphony of the surface Peter was driving on. Peter popped his neck in place. Then he noticed a speaker on the side of a building. "Alright, there's a speaker. We're gonna go in there, and we're gonna ask for where it's coming from. If he doesn't spill, we'll make him." 

Peter parallel-parked between two cars and stepped out of the driver's seat. He was holding the weapon he stole from days ago. The second he walked into the building, he yelled at the clerk, "Hands up, asshole."

"DON'T HURT-"

 

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not even supposed to be here, but because of the Kommandant I am. Merry Christmas! Now tell me where the broadcast is coming from." 

"Alright- Alright, I'll tell you! Jeez!" 

The clerk pulled a revolver out from under the counter and pointed it at Peter. "I'LL TELL YOU IN HELL!"

Natasha knocked him out with the grip of her pistol. "That was sad. Got beat up by a girl." Peter held up his hand for a high-five. Natasha smacked it without hesitation.

 

"BRO MOMENT RIGHT THERE."

 

Peter dragged the manager by his collar upstairs. "This guy weighs a goddamn TON!" he complained. There was some noise come from a nearby room. Natasha took cover behind the side of the door. "Get ready!"

Peter nodded and kicked open the door. And inside was Tai Goodman inside of the room, typing up something on an electronic typewriter. He turned around in a leather chair and said, "What the heck are you doing? I'm trying to write my dang book over here! Jesus it's EVERY SINGLE TIME! THIS IS THE FOURTH BOOK, and someone's ALWAYS PEEKING IN on my PRIVACY!"

"Oh- Uh... My bad, and you NEVER saw us, got it?"

Peter shut the door. "Alright, keep going..."

The two eventually dragged him into the connections room, strapped him to a chair, and placed him in front of the radio panel. Peter slapped the clerk across his face. THWAP! The slap was enough to awaken the clerk. "WHA- WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"THE BROADCAST SOURCE, WHERE IS IT!?" Peter screamed in his face. He inched the bat closer to the man's skull. "I want an answer. And so does my little friend. Keep your mouth shut, and I'll beat the shit outta you until your dead, CAPISCHE? SO WHERE IS IT?"

The clerk answered, "OKAY! Calm down! I know where it is and I can track it. It's in Neu Orleans. Glattes Neu Orleans Radio." Peter pryed the panel open and then used the touchscreen to search for the location. Tap tap tap... And after a while, the location was revealed. A radio shack. One story building that wasn't too small, nor too large. Peter leaned forwards near the clerk. "Thanks a lot, friend-o. You have yourself a good time up here."

Natasha held the door open for Peter to exit. "HEY, ASSHOLE! UNTIE ME! HEYYY!" 

The door slammed in the clerk's face. "Seemed like a nice guy."

 

Chapter VII: Testing 1-2-3

Peter turned up the radio. “Alright everybody, we are back with the one and only Kommandant of Neu Orleans… Kommandant Enrich Meindabann!”

“Danke schon, danke schon Jeff.”

“So, Kommandant, how are you today?”

“I am doing fine.”

“So I have a few questions for you on our little show, if you don’t mind?”

“Alright.”

“Now, recently, you went onto our announcement systems about a murderer with a leather jacket and other cosmetics. How dangerous is this guy, per chance?”

“Vell… He has apparently murdered two of the members of zhe Third Reich in a gas station."

“Man, that’s heavy stuff.”

“Ja, it is. Ve have notified their loved ones and their funerals were a day ago.”

“The next question is, is this new killer tough or strong to you?”

“Vell… He has a bat. A bat is a two handed weapon, zherefore, he can easily take a bullet and die. So to me, he is a VEAK scourge.”

“Well, there was also an apartment building full of the Nazi regime who were… Uhh.. Doing ‘unorthodox’ activities. There was a massacre inside that left about 12 dead.”

“Oh, ja… That place.”

“Do you think this new criminal is powerful now that I have reminded you?”

“Nein. He still has zhe two handed veapon.”

 

Peter switched the radio off. “Alright, so he’s there alright. Time to go mess him up for the rest of his LIFE.” He continued his journey to the radio station. Natasha reclined the seat a little bit backwards, and told Peter, “You know, my father used to take me on rides like this. We would enjoy the surroundings. Ever since he passed away, I kind of miss those moments.”

Peter sucked his teeth and went, “Ooh… My condolences. What did he pass away of?”

“Tuberculosis.”

“That stuff’s freaking nasty. Sorry."

 

 

Peter eventually drove near a pawn shop. "Peter, what the hell are you doing?"

"We need some better armory than what we have now. I bet the radio station is full of a bunch of Nazi security." 

 

The two stepped out of the car and walked inside. "HEY! PETERRRR! How you doing, man?" asked the cashier. The name-tag was labeled, "Red." Peter walked over to the counter.

"Doing good, doing good... How are you doing?"

"Well I'm working right now, my feet are killing me." 

Peter looked around the store. Then he pulled out his wallet. Fifty dollars and thirty-two cents. "This is bullshit." Peter looked around and found a chainsaw on a shelf. "Whoa-hoa-hoa... You would be satisfying to stick inside of a Nazi's stomach." Peter held the chainsaw with both hands and pretended to carve into an imaginary Nazi. "Nah. I'll need fuel." 

He placed it back on the shelf. Natasha wielded a trench knife, and rotated it a few times. The top sharp spike shined in her eye. Then she placed it back in its original spot. Peter then found a small-tablet on a shelf. It looked new, unused. "Yo! Red! What's this thing right here?"

Red slipped on his eyeglasses, and their electronic magnifying ability zoomed in on the tablet. "Oh- That's... I think it's for an electric panel, you know, the things outside buildings that reconfigure the electronic settings," answered Red, squinting at the device. Peter thought of a plan for a minute.

"Alright, so me and sexy here can disable the lights, then waltz right into the building and kill every guard in the dark. Then we get to the broadcast room, and fuck up Enrich. Yeah. That's a good plan. Shit- Wait... How are we gonna see in the dark?"

 

Peter gained an idea from Red's special specs. "Hey, Red, you got anything with nightvision or something?" he ordered from his position. Red searched underneath his counter. Then he placed four sets of nightvision goggles on the glass of the counter.

"These what you looking for?"

Peter grinned at Natasha. "Definitely. How much for two of 'em and the tablet?"

 

"$72.54." 

 

"FUCK."

 

"Oh, whoops, forgot tax. That's $74.32."

 

"SHIT."

"Oh wait there's two, uhh... Alright, so it's $94.32."

 

"SHIT-FUCK." 

 

Peter looked around and spotted a security camera. "Piss off you stalker." He leaned over the counter. "Alright, listen up, Red. I'm gonna hand you the money, and you will use your own employee discount thingy to decrease the price. I don't have that stuff on me."

Red pressed the "Employee Discount" switch and the price went down to $63.87. "SON OF A BITCH."

"Alright, can you pay off that extra? I'll pay you back, I promise!"

 

Red thought for a second. "Alright, Pete, you got a deal. But just this once, alright?"

 

"Thanks a lot."

 

MEANWHILE, AT G.N.O.R.S

 

Another specialized Nazi walked into the broadcasting room, hanging out in the doorway. The host noticed him standing there. "Oh, would you look at the time... Umm... Sorry folks, this is all the time we have with Kommandant Meindabann, we thank you Meindabann-" 

Enrich examined the Nazi in the doorway. "VAIT! Who is zhat? I've never seen him before... And vhy does he look like he vas beaten or mugged? Where's your uniform?!"

The specialized Nazi had red spiked-up hair that formed a Mo-Hawk, a tanktop on with a Nazi sash, a decapitated head with technology inside of it, and brown jeans with dirty combat boots. "I'm here for my time, Kommandant. You're done," the figure informed him. Enrich threw his hands up and looked at both the host and the wild-card. "I VAS NEVER TOLD ABOUT ZHIS! MEIN TIME TO LEAVE IST AT 3:25! It's 3:20- NOW it's 3:21!"

"Look, Mr. Kommandant, we had to cut out time for our special guest... Mr. Kraut." 

The Kommandant stood up and offered a hand-shake to Kraut. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kraut," Enrich greeted him sarcastically. Kraut's eyes gave a cursory glance at Enrich's hand. Then they both traveled back up to stare at Enrich. "Zhat's a good joke. Move aside."

The Kommandant pulled out his pistol at pointed it at Kraut's head. "You must have enough courage to informally talk to Neu Orleans' assigned Kommandant, attrappe," he threatened him. 

 "I assure you, Kommandant, you are talking to someone of the same rank," Kraut answered, pulling out a badge. It had the Bundeswehr symbol on it, golden and sparkling. "Kommandant of Detroit, Michigan."

"This must be un joke... YOU? YOU ARE A KOMMANDANT? OUT OF ALL OF ZHE PEOPLE ZHEY COULD FIND, YOU are the Kommandant... I guess zhat's where your outfit came from. And judging from your behavior, I'm guessing you were given to detroit because you are a DUMMKOPF and zhe lowest tier offzier ZHEY HAD!"

The host's assistant stepped inside. "Kommandant Kraut, you're on!"

 

Kraut grinned and whispered, "Heil Fegelein... Dummes idiot." 

 

Chapter VIII: Doing it Live

 GLATTES NEU ORLEANS RADIO STATION

 

Peter parked in a parking space and him and Natasha stepped out. "Hide your shit, and follow me," Peter told her. Natasha sheathed her knife and followed along Peter's trail into an alley. He walked by the control panel and busted the knob open. Peter opened up the tablet by its sides. A hologram-like screen appeared. "Welcome user: David Werman." 

"Not my name, dumbfuck." Peter tapped the option that said, "Connect to nearby power-control area." The device scanned for a connectable port, and after a second, it discovered it. "Fuck yeah!" Peter cheered. He reviewed the drop-down list of electronic appliances within the station: Broadcasting devices, sound editing devices, music connecting devices, lights, amplifiers, microphone equipment, computers, other... 

"So many to choose from... Screw it, I can't decide." Peter disabled EVERY SINGLE DEVICE in the studio. He then shot a look at Natasha. "Let's go, MOVE MOVE MOVE!"

 

Natasha took the nightvision goggles out of her shirt and strapped them to her face. She whipped out her butterfly knife, and entered the building with haste, walking through disabled metal-detectors. "Attention, all- Dammit... HELLO? WHO KNOWS WHERE THE RESERVE POWER IS?" spoke a receptionist behind a dark counter. Natasha crept into the studio as Peter jumped over the counter. The receptionist felt two pant-legs land in front of him. "AAHH!"

 

"Shut up, SHUT THE HELL UP! Listen to me, I'm not here to hurt you, gimme your damn hands!"

Peter took the woman's necklace off and then tied it around both of her hands. "And you better be here when I get back," Peter ordered her to do, walking off with goggles on. Natasha saw a guard standing there aiming around. "Hallo? Hat jemand etwas gesehen?" 

Natasha reached for the safety on the man's weapon, and CLICK! The gun was disabled. The guard spun around and pulled the trigger three times at Natasha. "VHAT?"

She then uppercutted her blade directly through the enemy's chin, and broke his neck sideways. A person walked by a lightswitch, but it was an innocent studio-worker. Peter watched something moving get closer and closer and then BUMP! "Whoa, hey, you know what's happening?" the man asked Peter.

 

"Uh.... No?" Peter responded. 

 

"Alright, I guess I'll just get back to finding the reserve power..."

 

Peter shrugged his shoulders and continued through. He walked into a huge dark office, and then from feet away, two eyehole-sized green lights switched on, floating in mid-air. Then they swung around. "Goddammit!" 

He took cover behind something wooden. Peter looked around the corner and spotted the guard walking down the aisle. Peter then felt the twitching fingers of a moving hand pat the top of his head. "What is this by my desk?"

Peter turned around and then slammed a person's head down on a flat desktop. "ACHTUNG! WHO IS ZHERE?"

Natasha approached behind the guard and sliced the guard's back open. "AHHHHHHH!"

She plunged her hands deep through the cut and ripped out several organs and a spine. Peter watched it all go down. "Whoa... That is, uh... Amazing." 

Natasha stopped and spotted Peter through the darkness. "Hey. You saw that?"

"Yep, I did. Nice one."

 

She smiled and then proceeded. "Where the hell are we even going?" she whispered. Natasha then tripped over an object in the center of the room. "WHAAA-"

Peter sprinted over to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah."

 

Peter helped her up and continued their journey to the broadcast room. "Alright, here it is. On the count of three, we're gonna-" 

 

"RESERVE POWER, ON."

 

The lights turned on, but not electronic appliances. "SHIT- GO IN! GO GO GO!" Peter said, hurrying. He kicked open the door and Natasha sprinted inside. A flexible leash hit her in the shoulder and yanked her across the room. "PETER! HELP!"

"NATASHA!"

A light flashed over Kraut, holding Natasha. Peter's eyes enlarged at the sight of an insane-looking Nazi. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER, MOTHERFUCKER!" Peter threatened Kraut. The Kommandant pulled a single barrel, single shot revolver out, and pushed it against the side of Natasha's skull. "I von't. But only if you meet my demands."

 

"Alright, I'll hear you out, what do you want?"

 

"Umm... Another hostage?"

 

Peter heard a bump underneath the table and spotted the host. "Get out and go over there to him," Peter told him. The host, with his hands in the air, revealed himself and walked over to Kraut. "Alright, you got two hostages. What'll make you release the FIRST one?"

 

"Another hosta-"

 

"I'm not gullible enough for that bullshit, what PHYSICAL OBJECT do you want?"

 

"Umm... I vant a uhh... Arm and a leg."

 

"You can cut one off of that bald guy I just gave you. Give me a REAL demand." 

 

"Actually, instead of YOU giving me something... Let ME give YOU something..." 

 

Kraut stood up, releasing Natasha but shoving her to the floor, and twisted the cranium of the decapitated head in a circle. "What the fuck is wrong with this guy?"

Once Kraut released the cranium, it started spinning in the opposite direction and fired explosive eyeballs at Peter. Luckilly, Peter dodged the projectiles and took cover behind a chair. "Wait a minute.... CHAIR!"

Peter tossed the chair over the table and missed Kraut by about an inch. "REALLY? YOU AREN'T ZHAT INTELLIGENT, ARE YOU?"

Kraut pulled the trigger and shot Natasha in the head. 

 

"NO!!!!!!!"

Peter leaped over the table and slammed his baseball bat into the wall. Kraut had already reloaded by then. Peter repeatedly attempted to yank the bat out of the crater he created. "Come on, COME ON!"

Then he noticed the square barrel of Kraut's pistol. "Your friend is dead. Vhat are you going to do now? One shot, and I can kill you, VERMIN!"

Natasha then stood up behind Kraut. "Wait... then what...?"

Peter looked down and saw the host's corpse on the floor. "OH..... That makes sense." 

Kraut's eye rolled to the side for a second and then fired a shot into Peter's side. "AH, GOD! WHAT THE HELL?" 

 

Peter hit the ground, clutching his side. "Mother.... AAAAH! I'll kill you!" Peter screamed at Kraut. Then Kraut was stabbed in the back by Natasha. Kraut dropped his pistol and then fell over on the desk. Natasha removed the blade and sprinted over to Peter. "Oh my god, Peter, are you okay?" 

A green liquid leaked from Peter's side, and landed on his hand. Lifting two fingers, Peter analyzed it. "What the fuck is this?" he asked Natasha. Natasha ignored it and helped him up, then immediately afterwards, she removed Peter's baseball bat from the wall. "Alright. It's time to go." The two staggered out of the room, having Peter leave behind a trail of glowing green paste. Natasha heard an extra set of footsteps behind her. She stopped immediately, and the footsteps she was hearing stopped with delay. Natasha dropped Peter and instantly swung around. 

 

Kraut was still alive. He pulled the bottom of his shirt upwards, and revealed the stab-vest within his tanktop. "Ever heard of protection? Apparently you haven't. You zhink I didn't WATCH you switch yourself out vhen you vere RIGHT underneath me? You zhink I would die that fast? You are foolish. And here, ve don't like foolish people." 

Kraut held a heated assault rifle with both hands. "Zhis veapon I have fires flaming shrapnel. It burns so badly, your skin will glow orange. Oh, and don't even try to escape, your friend has a wound from a tracking bullet. He'll be getting away, but I'll be getting closer the further he gets."

 

Peter stood up with an assault rifle, trying to stay in place, and cocked it back. "And this thing is an assault rifle. It's not a pile of shit, unlike your 'gun' you got." 

Kraut fired four shots around Peter and Natasha. "GET HIM!"

"YES! COME GET ME!" 

 

Kraut watched the two scurry into the office. "You cannot hide!" 

 

"FUCK YOU!"

 

Kraut blasted open the wall and stepped on through right as the two went through the other side. "SCHTOP!" he screamed. Kraut spotted Natasha in the side of the room. "KRIMINAL!" 

Natasha slid underneath a line of finger and slid over to Kraut's foot. She stabbed him a few times and tossed Kraut over her head, behind him. "AGH! Hahahaha!" 

Kraut launched her through the hole in the wall and caused her to hit a desk on impact. Peter then sprinted out from behind cover. "CAN YOUR VEST PROTECT YOU FROM THIS?" 

Peter shot Kraut a few times in his vest. Kraut actually received damage. "MMMGH! You haven't killed me... You terrorist!" 

Peter then shot up Kraut's weapon and then shot the decapitated head by Kraut's side. "SCHIS-"

Kraut's right leg was blown off. "AGHH...." 

He endured the pain and pulled out his one-shot pistol. Tick tick tick! The gun's chamber was empty. "Alright, Enrich... Where the fuck is the information on me located?"

 

"Enrich? Das ist not me... I am... Ungh.... Kommandant Kraut... Detroit, Michigan... Kommandant Meindabann left, MINUTES ago, you stupid idiot. And if you're vondering vhere your file is, it's in Der Police Filing Station."

 

"Wow. Not a very creative name. If it was that obvious how come I never heard of it before?"

 

"And plus... I already called in BACKUP!"

 

Skinny Nazis in dark black outfits and reconaissance gear sprinted in through the doorway. Peter aimed his rifle at them. "SHIT! GESTAPOS! TAKE THEM OUT!" he yelled to Natasha. 
Natasha picked up a dead Nazi's rifle and started firing away. The gestapos split up individually. One darted right past Natasha, whacking her instantly with an electrified baton. "ARRGH! THEY'RE TOO QUICK!"

One pounced on Peter, holding his baton with both hands. "Hören Sie auf zu widerstehen, Sie sind schon immer verloren!" the gestapo yelled. Peter blocked a blow from the baton with the rifle and kicked the gestapo off of him. With spare seconds, Peter shot the gestapo in the chest and the head. Then he turned to the right only to be smacked from the left by a baton. "Jeez, I can feel that pain EVERYWHERE!"

Peter fell over on his side and then attempted to aim at the gestapo. A throwing knife struck Peter in his knee. "NATASHA! HELP ME OUT!" 

There was no answer. 

 

Kraut was crawling out of the battle zone, and Peter caught him doing so in the corner of his eye. "Where do you think you're going, you fucking mental patient. Smile for the camera." He leveled the barrel with Kraut's head and missed once a gestapo counter-attacked him. "SUMBITCH!"

Peter kicked the gestapo in the head, knocking him back. Then he continued firing until Peter's weapon went TICK! Peter watched the gestapo's body full of holes fall backwards. He attempted to stand, and felt a deep pain digging into the kneecap of his leg. "FUCK! AH!" Peter screamed in agony. The throwing knife was still lodged in his leg. Peter yanked it out of the crevice in his leg. The feeling of blood-stained steel being hauled out of a limb of Peter's was excruciatingly painful. And the second the knife completely came out, Natasha walked over to Peter. "I'm alright, are you?"

 

"Yeah, now."

 

Peter then pointed over to Kraut, crawling away, still. "Get that asshole so we can take him home." 

 

 

Chapter IX: Punching Bag

PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

 

Peter splashed Kraut with a bucket of ice water. "OHHH! OHHH! SO KALT! AH!" he cried, freezing and drenched in cold water. Peter then grabbed Kraut by his chin and forced him to face him.

"I bet you're wondering where you are. You're at one of my friends' house. I blocked the nasty wound you got from bleeding out. Don't thank me though, because there's a pretty bad reason why I did that," Peter informed Kraut. The Nazi shook his hands around, only to hear chains jingling. He was hanging by his hands from shackles tied to the ceiling. "RRRGH! FICK SIE UND IHR LAND!"

Peter kicked Kraut in his stomach. "You'd make a good target for target practice."

Then he punched Kraut in his crotch. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" he cried in fear and pain.

 

Natasha strolled over to Peter. "Can I have a turn, Peter?" she questioned him. 

"You sure can, fuck him up as much as you like- Keep him alive, though."

Natasha whipped out her butterfly-knife. "You... You zhink I'm scared of a knife, you... WHORE!" Kraut insulted her. Natasha cut a line down Kraut's cheek. His teeth were churning back and forth across each other. "Keep going, woman! You can keep cutting me up but VILL IT DO YOU ANY GOOD?" 

"Nope. But it'll make me feel a lot better."

Kraut kicked Natasha away with his single leg. Peter approached Kraut with his baseball bat. "YOU WANNA TRY THAT AGAIN? Don't think I motherfucking won't, I'll fuck you up 24/7 you little MEAT-BAG! Besides, we gotta go to the filing station anyways."

 

FILING STATION

 

"WHOA WHOA, VAIT A MINUTE... HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FILING STATION IS ALREADY?" Kraut questioned Peter.

Peter looked around. "Uh.... Umm... Shut the fuck up or I'll kill you or.. something- ALRIGHT LET'S GO!"

 

FILING STATION

 

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Kraut informed him. Peter got up in his face. "Listen to me, shut your FUCKING mouth. And YOU shouldn't even be in our business, so let me inform you in PRIVATE: ************************************. Alright, you understand, cause I'm not doing it again!"

"Ja, ja, just get it over with."

 

FILING STATION THAT WAS LOCATED SOMEHOW

 Peter walked by the front of the station and then found one of Tyler's propaganda posters. It was a poster of a crow in a Nazi uniform pecking at an American soldier's corpse. "Jeez, this thing looks like crap." He proceeded inside and then reviewed his surroundings. There were two people in the lobby, one receptionist. "Hmmmm..... I've got a sexy plan." 

Peter just walked through the lobby and proceeded into the filing room. "Oh, wow, it was that easy. Okay then..." Peter then walked over into an office complex of cubicles and employees on computers. He looked to the right and saw one typing away at his computer. Peter slowly tip-toed over to the man, sitting there in his chair. "Now, carefully grab him." Peter placed his hand over the man's mouth and restrained him with his arm. "SHH SHH SHH.... It's alright. Don't say a damn word, and follow me." 

The employee nodded in fear. Peter noticed that feature and said, "Hey, chin up, I ain't gonna hurt you." The two continued into a janitor's closet, and Peter threw him against the wall. "ALRIGHT MOTHERFUCKER, SPILL IT! WHO OPERATES THE FILES FOR THE TERRORIST WITH A BASEBALL BAT?"

"UHH... UHHHH..."

Peter picked up a square carton of bleach and twisted the cap off. "YOU GOT FIVE SECONDS TO TELL ME OR YOUR FEET ARE GONNA BURN BADLY." 

"Giovanni! Giovanni Rennes! Please leave me alone!" 

"What's he look like?"

"He's... He's BALD."

"KEEP GOING..."

"He's skinny! Blue suit, green tie with purple stripes!"

"SO IS HE NOT WEARING PANTS OR WHAT?"

"He's wearing.... umm.... Khakis?" 

"Alright. That's all I needed to know."

 

Peter walked out of the closet with the employee tied up and wearing his uniform. He proceeded past cubicles, noticing the electronic name-plates on each as he strolled past. "Giovanni..." He saw names like James Gray, Beau Caldonia, and Norman Sudolph. Nothing by the words of Giovanni. "Alright I've been walking around like an idiot for about 2 minutes, where the fuck is Giovanni?" 

Peter gulped and walked up behind an employee named Herschel Diamond. "Hey, man, where's Giovanni? Can't seem to find him." 

"He's in his office, like usual...." 

"Where's his office again?"

Herschel spun around in his chair. "Dude- Oh, wait, you're that intern.... Ummm... See that door over there? Knock first, and then go in," he informed Peter. He nodded, and then knocked on the door. The screen on the door said, "COME INSIDE." 

He strolled through the door which disappeared, and Giovanni was sitting right there. "Hey, intern-orino! What's up?" Giovanni asked, enthusiastically. Peter noticed a drawing board with Nazi advertisements all over it. "Where's the files for that guy with the uh... Leather trench coat and baseball bat?"

"Why do you need it?"
"Umm... Uhhh.... B-Beau needed it." 

"Ah, they are right..."

A slot opened up the table and a file exited the hole. 

"Here."

Peter took the folder and said, "Thanks, man!" as he walked out the door. 

"WAIT. STOP! I've got something for you! Bonus points on your credit for college, take these files and give 'em to Eugene for me," Giovanni told him. Peter rotated himself and accepted the files. Walking out the door, he threw away some files in a bin. "Hey, trashcan, deliver these to that guy."  Peter passed the janitor's closet door, and heard THUMP! The door budged a little. Peter flinched and kept on moving. As he was exiting the station, he read the files. "Let's see... Assignment for Eugene Phillips... Target: Wait, what? Man with a shotgun and body armor..." 

Peter spun around and then thought, "SHIT, WRONG FILE!"

He rolled right back into the police station and saw a janitor pulling the tied up hostage out of the closet. "SHIT. HURRY THE FUCK UP." Peter leaped over the hostage and sprinted to the trashcan. Digging through it, his fingers found the files. "YES!"

Then the second he turned around, he saw every employee staring at him. The hostage ripped the tape off of his mouth and screamed, "KICK HIS ASS!"

 

Peter dodged a chair flying in his direction. "Book it. And I mean BOOK. IT." He jogged through two employees trying to grab him and made it through the lobby. The receptionist announced, "Attention everybody, there is an intruder in the filing station. Please request assistance, immediately." Peter made it to his vehicle, and flung the car door open. Getting inside, he watched a few employees chasing after him. "Pulling out motherfuckers! Uhh... That's what she said." Peter stomped on the pedal and the car didn't budge. "SHIT!" 

He pressed down on the other pedal and drove backwards onto the road. Peter forced the gears in "FORWARD" and took off. Peter reached into the glove-box and pulled a secret microphone out. He leaned over to it and spoke, "Replace license plate with code: FCK-N4Z1S." The license plate on the back of the car shifted into a new label. 

 

Chapter X: The Rise of Explodian

The garage door opened up and revealed Peter standing there with his files. "Play it cool." Kraut looked up and said, "HOW ARE YOU ALIVE? I am sure security vould have cratered you into ZHE GROUND!" 

"This 'security' was barely even there. All I did was snatch the file and run. So if there was some in the building, they're probably the laziest bunch of guards this world has ever laid eyes on." 

Peter slapped the folder down on the workbench and then walked over to Kraut, hanging from the ceiling. He examined Kraut, face to face. "You weren't very intelligent getting yourself here. And if I'm not misunderstood, you're probably gonna hang here until you die. For right now, however, all you're useful for is a punching bag that I can beat the crap out of when I'm pissed off," Peter informed him, receiving a spit of saliva from Kraut on his cheek. "Hahahah.... THAT'S THE TICKET!" 

Peter socked Kraut face. "You want all the rest of your limbs to stay intact? Then don't do that again," Peter threatened him, walking over to the workbench. The moment he opened the file, there was a whole lot of blackmail content on Peter. People he has killed with his "trusty" baseball bat, the "crimes" he's committed, and his basic information. "Man, whoever jotted this stuff down's really got a NOIICEE pair of baby blues in their eye-sockets." In the corner of the paper was a big red-ink stamp that was marked, "SIGNED BY KOMMANDANT MEINDABANN." 

 

"Oh my GOD.... Meindabann..."

Kraut grinned.

"...He's..... He's..."

"JA, JA, SPIT IT OUT!"

 

"BOOOOOOORIING! Nobody wants to hear about that cretin! He can go suck a fat one. You wanna hear about action packed violence, guns, explosions, and PECS! That's why you're reading this! So, ooh, a convenient comic book!"

 

THE RISE OF EXPLODIAN

WRITTEN BY HAROLD TILLMAN
ILLUSTRATED BY WINONA PIERCE

PUBLISHED BY DEEP FREEZE COMICS INC.

 

"In the United States of America, there is a time of war, peace, and life. But at this time, it's war. One man, one lethal weapon, will stand up to the oppression as EXPLODIAN!"

 

KENTUCKY

 

People were being gunned down on the streets by marching soldiers and moving tanks. One enemy standing on top of a tank was watching all of the chaos unravel within the town. "HA HA HA! This is an EXCELLENT PLOT OF LAND for my X-RAY! Once it is planted, I WILL HAVE THE ULTIMATE WEAPON! And NOBODY can stop me!" 

Then a superhero wearing a bombshell's top came out from around a corner. "MY MY! What is that? Is that EXPLODIAN? Come back to get trashed again by my tanks?" said the enemy.

"No, Brutale, I've come to stop you from terrorizing this town," spoke Explodian, standing still. He cocked the gadgets on his wrists and the electronic label read, "READY." Explodian popped his neck in place. Brutale looked down through the hatch of the tank and nodded, whispering, "KICK. HIS. ASS."

 

The tank fired a missile and blew up a building's entrance near Explodian. Just in time, he dodged a falling rock coming from above him. It fell and split into bricks and pieces of stone. Explodian snatched up an entire brick, and aimed for the barrel of the tank. "POWER THROW!" 

Explodian punted the brick into the nozzle of the tank's barrel. Brutale watched it happen, and then looked up in fear. "OH LORD." 

He jumped off of the tank, afraid. "Sir, permission to fire? Sir? SIR? Alright, I guess I'll fire anyways!" said the driver. The missile launched and was caught inside of the barrel. "Wait, WHAT THE F-"

 

KABOOM! The tank exploded into pieces of scrap and shrapnel. Brutale searched for a place to hide, and watched Explodian come out of smoke. Brutale slipped on his spiked brass knuckles. "Alright, you want a piece of me? LET'S FIGHT!" 

"Bring it, Brutale!"

Explodian punched Brutale into the pavement. He quickly composed himself, stood out of the crater, and kicked Explodian in his stomach and chopped him in his neck. "How does pain taste, SUPER-ZERO?" 

"Tastes like POWER SURGING THROUGH MY VEINS!"

Explodian fired two homing missiles from his gadgets, which were quickly shot down by Brutale and landed in separate buildings. Brutale enabled his laser-sight on his weapon and aimed for Explodian's head. Before he was able to fire, Explodian enabled the electromagnetic pulse on his vest and disabled Brutale's gadget. "What in the name of Christ? COME ON, DAMNED THING, WORK!" 

Brutale slammed his fist repeatedly on his gadget and then watched Explodian approach him with a grenade. "No, WAIT! STOP! THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

Explodian pulled the pin and rolled it beneath Brutale's feet. "NO! NO!!!!!"

Then the grenade caused a jail cell to form instead of exploding. "There's been enough death today, FIEND." 

 

"BULLSHIT-A-MUNDO! That ending sucked ass! Let's rewrite that!" Peter complained.

 

 Explodian walked over to Brutale with the grenade, shoved it down Brutale's mouth, and pulled the pin. "See you in Hell, PUSSY!" Explodian remarked as he walked away. Brutale exploded into several giblets and parts. Then two women came out of nowhere and took Explodian by his arms. "Oh, Explodian... Your muscles are big and strong..."

"I know, random woman, let's go back to my place." 

 

"ALRIGHT, now THAT is a badass ending! I don't know what type of retarded troglodite wrote that original one." 

 

Chapter XI: The Search for Meindabann

Peter lightly smacked the ground with his baseball bat. "Alright, Nazi bitch, where's Meindabann? And you better answer or else I'll kill you slowly and painfully, so you can savor every last millisecond you have to BREATHE." 

Peter readied the baseball bat with two hands. "Don't make me ask twice!" Peter screamed at him. 

"AH! OKAY! Alright, I tell you! He's... He's downtown..."

"GO ON."

"Downtown... and UP YOUR ASS AT ZHE TOP CORNER."

"TIME TO PLAY BALL!"

 

Peter smacked Kraut in his leg. The barbs dug deep into the flesh, and then hauled right out of the wound. "Tell me where the hell he is. And maybe I won't put another hole in you." Kraut watched his leg bleed onto the ground. "No answer, eh? Alright..."

Peter whacked Kraut in his side, and pulled the bat out. "That side of your body's where some of the internal organs are. Where I hit you, your intestines are probably bleeding right now." 

Natasha entered the garage and walked over to Peter while he was steaming-mad. "Peter, calm down for a minute. I have a solution." 

She walked over to Kraut with a pill-case. Her tender hands opened the case as if she was opening a crocodile's mouth for it. Inside was a red pill. With two fingers, they clamped the top of the tablet and stuck the pill in Kraut's mouth. The pill dissolved immediately. "It's a psychological drug. Whatever he wouldn't have told you, he will now." 

Peter grabbed Kraut by his hair and held it upwards. "Look at me- LOOK AT ME! Where's Meindabann. All details, no shit!" 

 

"From vhat I recall.. 44 avenue, big brown brick building... Three story... Several parking meters are in front of zhe entrance.." 

Peter patted him on the head. "Good boy. Natasha, you wanna come?"

"Sure. Let's find this maniac."

 

Chapter XII: The Day Meindabann Dies

 "I bet you saw the name of the chapter, and you're wondering... 'Is this the part where the not-so-important-but-at-this-point-is-important-guy dies? Yes. It is. And you get to see all the details. SO if you haven't guess, this is about to get REALLY messy." 

 

Meindabann was in his office, neatly stacking papers on top of each other. The telephone on his desk rang. "Nehmen Sie bitte den Anruf entgegen," he told the phone's automated microphone. The call transferred to the audio output.

"Hey, Enrich, it's me, Gustaff."

"Ah, greetings Gustaff. How may I help you today?"

"Well, you know that mass-murderer with the baseball bat, right?"

"Mhm... Vhat about him?"

"Well.. He might've broke into the filing station and stole his own file..."

"UND NOBODY DID ANYTHING ABOUT IT?"

"No, Kommandant. I wish there was nearby security but they went on break. We tried to fight back ourselves but it didn't do anything."

"Schisse.... Vell, send one of the surveillance majors to make a new file. It's zheir duty to restore zhe lost files in case of theft." 

"Alright, thanks a lot Kommandant."

"Nein, danke schon. Heil Fegelein."

"Right, Heil Fegelein."

 

The call hung up. Then once he got back to whatever he was doing, there was a loud CRASH two floors below. He dialed the operator. "OPERATOR! WAS WAR DER SOUND?" 

"KOMMANDANT! DER TERRORIST MIT DEM BASEBALL BAT, ER-" 

The call was disconnected. "MMMMRGH! Schisse! Ich muss ALLES selbst machen!" 

 

He slammed his big hand onto a red button underneath his desk. A suit of armor rose from a lift from underneath a carpet. The suit of armor was covered in hexagonal metal pieces to add ballistic resistance. He stepped inside of it and closed the back. "STURM UND DRANG!" 

Enrich opened up a cabinet and pulled two assault rifles out. Both were fully loaded. He pushed both of their bolts together and cocked both. There was shooting downstairs. Enrich proceeded out of his office and bumped into two of the people in the building. "You! Vhat is happening down zhere!"

"I-I-I don't know, Kommandant! There was a loud crash and- Then there's shooting!"

"Move." 

Enrich trotted past the man and walked over to the stairwell. 

 

Downstairs on the first floor, Peter knocked the helmet and ear off of a Nazi soldier, and then slammed the bat directly on the man's forehead. 

"FUCK THEM UP!"

Natasha was nearby, stabbing a soldier in the chin with her knife, and then using him as a human shield to incoming gunfire. "PETER! HELP!"

Peter pulled out his assault rifle and took cover behind a bust podium. "HOLD ON! I GOT YOU!"

He fired a shot and blew a hole through a Nazi soldier's teeth and through the back of his skull. Two more came around the corner with shields. Peter identified their gear from his position. "SHIT! THEY GOT SHIELDS, WE GOTTA MOVE UP!" 

Natasha nodded and slowly started moving toward the people. Peter shot two more times and hit the shields instead of the enemy. "FUCK!" Peter screamed. A gestapo swung into the room from a rappeling wire. Peter heard the two feet slam on the ground behind him. Caught between a super athletic spy and two armed men with shields, he was out of room. "Shit, think fast." 

The gestapo whipped out a concealable baton, extending it, and then he squeezed the grip to summon a spinning circular saw blade. "Ho, that don't look good." 

The moment both were about to attack, Peter smiled. "Nah, I have a fool-proof plan." 

The gestapo charged at Peter, who had ducked underneath his feet as he attempted to dropkick him. "NOT TODAY!" he remarked, kicking him over his head into the incoming gunfire from the shields. Natasha dropped her human-shield and flipped over one of the shields. She plunged her knife through one of the soldier's neck, and then slashed the other one twice. In the middle of the room, the gestapo was inching away from Peter, who was walking toward him. 

"Alright- You little son of a BITCH. I'm gonna FUCK YOU UP!" 

 

Peter whacked the man in the eye and bashed in his face until it was all scrambled into bloody pieces. Natasha smiled and tugged on his sleeve. "Peter, come on, let's go!"

They went around the corner, and Peter accidentally whacked a Nazi in his face, breaking his jaw and injuring him badly. With the other hand, he popped the Nazi in his face with his rifle. Natasha called the elevator. "We can use this to get up to the third floor!"

"Great. I have a feeling some other people are taking the stairs!"

Peter watched three Nazis bust out of the stairwell doors. "FUCKERS! SHOOT 'EM!"

Natasha stole a dropped rifle from the last man Peter murdered, and shot a widespread line of fire. The recoil was all over the place for her. "HOW DO YOU AIM THIS THING?" she squealed. Peter popped one's helmet off, and then shot a bullet clean through his forehead. Then he watched one pulled out a grenade. "SHIT! DUCK AND COVER!"

 

The soldier pulled the pin, and lobbed it over to Peter's feet. "NATASHA, MOVE!" he yelled at her. Peter collected the live-grenade, and tossed it back to its thrower, blowing the two Nazis to pieces all over the ceiling, wall, and floor. Blood was dripping from the ceiling. Then the elevator went DING! 
"Elevator's here, let's go go go!" Peter screamed out. The doors slid open, with vacant room inside. The two stepped into the elevator and pressed the 3rd floor button. "We're coming Meindabann, fuckle your seatbelts cause you're going to Hell." 

The elevator began to travel up to the third floor. Peter eyeballed Natasha, panting in the corner. "You high and tight there, Natasha?" Peter asked.

"Hehe.... High and tight... That's what she said."

"Yeah. I'm just... Exhausted already. After we kill this asshole, what're we doing next?" 

"We're gonna go get my friend back."

"Oh... The Masked Terror?"

"Damn straight."

The elevator car was disrupted during its travel, stopping at the 2nd floor. "SHIT- THEY CUT THE POWER TO THE CAR!" 

The cables above started to make creaking noises. "We gotta get out, UH, UHHHH.... THE HATCH, GET UP THERE!" Peter yelled, panicking. Above the two was the emergency escape hatch. Peter used the bottom of his baseball bat to pull the latch down and open the hatch door, which swung directly over to Peter and hit him in the head. His vision was blurred. "God... That actually hurt..." 

Peter walked around the hatch that was in front of his face and climbed up the prongs to the ladder. Natasha peered upwards to see people cutting the cables to the elevator. "PETER! HURRY UP!"

Peter's ankle twisted and he fell back into the elevator car, hitting his head on the fall. "OW! MY HEAD!" he grunted. The car started inching downwards. Natasha stepped onto the safety platform and waited eagerly for Peter to exit the car. "COME ON! WE DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME!"

She aimed above at the people cutting the cables and shot one in the shoulder. "AAGH!" 

Natasha fired again, and hit the Nazi in his neck. The Nazi lost his grip and plummeted down onto the elevator car with a thud. Peter released the first prong due to the vibration of the car from the impact. Natasha watched one of the cables snap. "PETER!" 

The second one was about to snap, and before it did, Peter bounced through the hole as the cable snapped and the elevator car sunk all the way back down. Natasha grabbed Peter's hand right when the safety platform sky-rocketed all the way up to the 3rd floor. Once it was completely level with the 3rd floor, the small bump ruptured the two's balance. Shots started coming towards the doorway, so Natasha heaved Peter onto the platform. "Get ready." 

The two stepped beyond the doorway and Natasha was dropkicked back down into the elevator shaft. "AAAAAHHH!"

"NATASHA!"

Peter gaped at the long dark hole that Natasha fell all the way down to her death. "No. No no no NO! There's no fucking way she's dead. Not when we're this close." Peter was rotated to face a Nazi with a grip with a trigger built into it. A tear dripped out of Peter's eyelid. "You.... YOU! ASSHOLE! YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING PAY FOR THAT YOU GODDAMNED SON OF A BITCH!"

The Nazi pulled the trigger on his grip and a sword's blade extended out of the slender hole in the top. Peter identified the person due to his nametag, "Werner." 

 

 

The ninja-like swordfighter murmurred, "LIKEWISE." 

Peter dropped the rifle in his other hand and grasped the bottom of his baseball bat with two hands. "You got balls, I'LL GIVE YOU THAT MUCH, YOU NAZI PIECE OF GARBAGE!"

 

The two clashed melee weapons together, and both looked each other in the eye. Peter's blue eyes locked onto Werner's brown eyes. "You don't sound like a-"

The weapons' force against each other grew larger. 

"-German... What the fuck are you doing in this house of cards?"

Werner kicked Peter through the bottom of the swords and answered, "You're right. I'm from Britain. Came to America in 1944, joined the Third Reich in '45. If you can't beat them..." 

Flames sparked up the side of the blade that Werner held. 

 

"JOIN THEM."

 

Werner demonstrated his sword's ability by slashing a bust diagonally. Peter's elbow bumped into the stock of his rifle. "Guns are better than swords, DICKHEAD!" 

Werner noticed a fire extinguisher on the wall, and punctured the metal surface of it. A cloud of vapor erupted from the hole and covered the area. Peter fired into the cloud. "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? GET THE HELL OUT HERE SO I CAN RIP YOU APART!" 

Peter's rifle was stolen by Werner, who was standing behind him. Werner fired all of the rest of the bullets in the magazine at the ceiling. Peter whacked the rifle out of Werner's hands, and continued the melee fight. Werner pulled a device out of the back of his pants and threw it unnoticably behind Peter. Footsteps were approaching. Peter kicked Werner away and turned around. "What the f-?" 

On the floor was a noise-making distraction. And then Peter was slashed in the back with Werner's sword. "That's like a knife through my heart... Actually, yeah, it's EXACTLY like that." 

Peter twisted around and fell backwards, crawling in the opposite direction from Werner. His hand was slighlty cut by a fragment of the fire extinguisher's body. "There's something to grab, Pete." Peter slung the metal piece at Werner, and hit him in the shoulder. Werner proceeded through like nothing happened. "Wait... I GIVE UP! DON'T HIT ME! PLEASE!" 

Peter was then impaled through the stomach by Werner's sword. The flames burned his insides, and then switched off. All there was, was a regular blade in his side. 

"I went to Japan, once. Some... random crazy guy was on the street offering free swordfighting lessons. I said, 'Why the hell not?' and walked over into his building. Apparently he wasn't lying, those lessons paid the hell off." 

Werner twisted the sword around repeatedly. Peter clutched his side. "AGH!"

"You think you can just take on the entire Reich with a baseball bat? You aren't the sharpest tool in the shed, now are you? TWAT!"

 

Then Phoenix appeared right besides Peter. "Peter, what in the FUCK are you doing? REMEMBER, GIVING UP IS FOR PUSSIES," Phoenix advised Peter. Peter shook his head.

Phoenix stuck two fingers into Peter's wound. "So... GET UP, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!"

Peter's eyebrows tilted downwards to the bridge of his nose. "RIGHT!"

 Peter kicked Werner backwards, and with both hands, removed the sword from his side. "YOU REALLY FUCKED UP NOW, BUDDY!" 

He swung the sword and missed Werner. Werner punched Peter in the side and then flipped backwards. Werner attempted to grab Peter's baseball bat. "How the fuck do you use this thing?"

His fingers pulled the trigger and the thruster caused Werner to slam the bat into the ground. "SHITE!" 

Peter one-handedly sliced Werner's hands off and then walked over to him. "Hope you enjoy the ride down," he told him. Werner spat on the side of Peter's cheek. "See you in Hell, CUNT." 

Peter kicked Werner into the elevator shaft, sending him two stories down. Then the wall behind Peter crumbled down, as Enrich blasted through it with his suit of armor. "You are skilled in the art of two-handed weapons, but are you skilled in surviving the pain you are about to suffer?" Enrich announced. Peter collected his rifle and reloaded. "Don't listen to that dumbass. He's just gonna try and drag you down." Peter fired several shots that hit Enrich's suit of armor. Enrich was only taking direct impact, not physical damage, however. With one finger, Enrich fired a small missile at Peter. "SHIT."

"See it. Shoot it." Peter watched a red projectile hovering towards him, and destroyed it with one shot. The explosion staggered both Peter and Enrich. Peter took cover behind a corner and peeked out from behind it. Enrich was ripping a piece of the wall out and preparing to hurl it at Peter. "Come out, RODENT! Let me SQUASH YOU!"

Peter checked his rifle and noticed a firing mode labeled, "HEATED-METAL." His thumb switched it on. "That's more like it!" Peter shot Enrich in the shoulder and the orange-steaming metal started to singe the ballistic armor. "Mmmrgh! SCHISSE!"

Peter continued to fire, and hit Enrich's suit a few more times. The burning orange color started to merge into one. The more shots Peter fired, the more orange it turned. Enrich touched the burning parts of the suit.

"AAAAAAAH! AHAH! AHHHHHHH! ES BRENNT! ES VERDAMMT VERBRENNUNGEN! Holen Sie es sich von mir!"

Enrich removed the power-armor and yanked out his pistol. "ALRIGHT, AMERICAN, LET'S SEE WHAT'S IN YOUR HEAD!"

 

Peter froze right when he felt a bullet hit him in the skull. "GODDAMN, THAT HURTS.... Aghh... Feels like a thousand needles plunging into the side of my eye and cheek.... GOD.... Ahh...."

He hit the floor, face first. Enrich stepped over to his body. "BUT I NEVER SAID I WAS DEAD, DID I?"

 

Peter fired the rest of his magazine into Enrich's body, setting him ablaze. "AHHHH! AHHHHHH!" he squealed in flames. Before he was able to be killed, he mashed a button on his suit. "SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE, ENABLED. 10 SECONDS UNTIL DETONATION." 

"Turning this place into a damn barbecue now?"

Peter sprinted over to the stairwell and started pulling on the knob to the door. "ACCESS CARD MISSING." 

"BULLSHIT!"

He sprinted over to the elevator and nearly fell off. "WHOA..." 

Peter sprinted out from the doorway. There was no other way out. Peter dropped his rifle and snatched his bat quickly. "5 SECONDS UNTIL DETONATION."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"3 SECONDS UNTIL DETONATION."

"HELL!"

"..2..."

"MMMRGH!" Peter grunted, jumping into the elevator shaft.

"...1..."

The third floor was blown to bits and began to crumble by the second.

Chapter XIII: Bringing it Down

 Peter's hands wrapped around one of the loose cables and almost dropped down the entire  shaft. "Holy SHIT!" he said, with relief that he didn't fall to his death. And then someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Huh?" 

He looked to his left, and Natasha was also hanging on a cable. "Missed me?"

"Thank Christ, you're alright- I thought he actually killed you."

"I can cheat death too many times."

"Keep laughing at death and at one point it's gonna laugh back."

"Well I'll have the last laugh. So anyways, how are we gonna get out of this thing?"

 

Below them was the crushed elevator car. Peter looked at the unopened set of doors to the second floor below Natasha's shoes. "Alright, I got a plan that sucks ass but it might just work. The second floor's entrance is right there, if I can get over there and pry the doors open, we can swing inside."

He looked at Natasha's leg. "Alright, I'm about to grab your foot, hold on, alright?"

"Gotcha." 

Peter boosted momentum to swing over to Natasha, and swung over to Natasha, grabbing her foot. Peter inserted his fingers between the doors of the 2nd floor, and inched one a few to the right. "Come on..." 

Peter shoved the grip of the bat between the doors and pryed it further. "Alright, let's go!"

He entered the 2nd floor and so did Natasha. The third floor had crumbled into the 2nd floor, covering the floor in rocks, dust, and woodchips. "This place is coming down fast, we gotta move!" Peter screamed over the noises of flames. Natasha held her breath, following Peter throughout the smoke clouded hallway. "Holy fuck, I hope I don't get lung cancer from all this smoke." Peter watched a security guard get completely squashed by a falling rock. "HOLY- OKAY, alright we gotta go a LITTLE BIT FASTER!"

Peter proceeded through two crossed wooden beams that fell from the ceiling. Natasha crawled underneath it to continue. "Well, I guess you could say this part is gonna end the first part of this journey I'm on-"

 

Natasha noticed Peter's eye and said, "PETER? What the fuck happened to your eye? Did you get SHOT?" 

"Whoops! Can't forget about that!" Peter popped his neck in place and said, "Umm... Yes?"

"Ugh, it looks ugly by the second, we got to get you out and to a hospital-"

"No, no no no- Not a hospital, they'll sniff me out quick and we can't have that," Peter denied Natasha's idea. The two arrived at a window. "Alright, I don't see any other way out, so this is the only way! READY?"

A beam fell behind them, scorched by fire.

"YES!"

The two held hands and crashed through the window, landing on a taxi outside. "Okay, NOW we're good. So cue the second part." 

 

 

PART 2

 PART 2

What, did you think something else was gonna be here? - Peter Frederick Shkeppaltiger.

 

Chapter XIV: Low

 PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

SUBSEQUENT AFTER THE INCIDENT AT 44 AVENUE

 

Tyler finished the bolt on Peter's eye. "Alright, can you see now?" Tyler questioned him. Peter's right eye still couldn't see anything. 

"Nope. Still dark."

Tyler tightened the bolt on the frame of the robotic eye. "What about... now?"

The magnification lens inside the robotic eye blinked. It blinked twice more. "Whoa.... IT ACTUALLY WORKS! I can see!" Peter cheered, with an ecestatic emotion on his face. "You're a genius Ty." 

"Thanks, umm... If it starts messing with your head or something, come tell me so I can fix the kinks in it." 

 Peter nodded and everybody left the garage. In the corner, Kraut had duct tape over his mouth and earplugs in, as he watched what just happened. Then Hans entered the room after everybody made a mass exodus, with his arms crossed. 

"Tell me, Peter, vas it really a vise decision to bring a Nazi into the place? He swore in German so many times that Joseph might grow up saying zhat... PROFANITY. He vill be all over zhe place saying, 'Schisse' and 'Arschloch' and all of the other vones."

"I brought him here to interrogate him and beat the shit out of him per protocol. I believe it was a good decision." 

"Vhat if he breaks out, huh? Vhat if he manages to escape, and zhen comes for all of us? Vhat vill ve do zhen? Or vait, vhat if he runs off vith our address? Zhen vhat?"

Peter stood up and pointed to Hans, saying, "Hans, you need to chill out. In case you haven't noticed, he's got one FUCKING leg to hop on. We're safe." 

Hans grabbed a chainsaw with both of his hands and revved up the engine. "WHOA! HOLD ON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?"

"Making a precaution BECAUSE YOU CAN'T!"

Peter shook his head with no choice. "I gotta do something quick." He snatched his bat off the table and smacked the chainsaw out of Hans' hands. "What the fuck is the matter with you? We're fine the way we fucking are, so deal with it!"

"Fine? VE ARE NOT FINE VHEN ZHE ENEMY IS IN OUR TERRITORY!"

"YOU WERE ONE OF THEM SO YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

"I LEFT ZHE REICH FOR ZHE GREATER GOOD!"

"THAT IS A FATASS LIE, YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE A PUSSY AND DIDN'T WANT PHOENIX TO BEAT YOUR ASS!"

"ZHAT TOO."

"NICE JOB ROMEO, YOU JUST EXPOSED YOURSELF."

"FICH DICH!"

 

Hans shoved Peter into his workbench, banging his bang against the table. "Little SCHISSE, you aren't zhe sharpest tool in zhe shed, ARE YOU NOW?"

 Peter straightened his back and pounded his fists together. "Oh ho ho, you're gonna pay for that!" 

Peter punched Hans in the side of the head, but then felt a kick in the knee. Both men backed away from each other. "Hans, you... This ain't worth it, alright? Just get outta-" 

Peter rolled to the right of Hans, who was charging toward him with a screwdriver. "HANS! I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU BEFORE YOU KICK YOUR OWN ASS BY ME KICKING YOUR ASS BECAUSE OF YOU WANTING TO KICK MY ASS BECAUSE I SAID PHOENIX KICKED YOUR ASS. Yeah, read that twice if you gotta." 

Hans threw the screwdriver at Peter and missed, hitting a board behind him. "ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!" 

Peter sprinted over to Hans and pinned him to the floor, strangling the breath out of him. Peter slammed Hans' head on the floor in anger, giving him a scowl. His neck started turning red, and the color kept rising until it reached Hans' hairline. "...SCHTOP.... PLEASE!" 

Peter's fingers grasped even harder down on Hans' throat. He leaned in and said, "GIVE ME A DAMN REASON, YOU LITTLE STUPID FUCK!"

"PLEASE... I CANNOT BREATHE!"

"Let 'em go. He's had enough, the little shit." Peter then realized what he was doing. With both of his eyes wide open, his grasp on Hans untigthened as he fell backwards. "Hans... You alright?"

"Ja.... I'm O.K. Please just... No more strangers or Nazis in zhe house, ja?"

 

Hans reentered the house and closed the door behind him. Natasha came out of the panic room, right as one of Phoenix's vises' handles started rotating. "What happened? Is everyone OK?" 

"Yeah... Hans just got in a brawl with me over bringing fuckface into the garage!" 

Natasha walked over to Kraut and lifted his shirt up. On Kraut's bare chest was a tattoo of a swastika. "You see this? We don't allow swastikas in the house, right? So you get a front row seat to watch me 'edit' it." 

Peter grabbed a bottle of beer and sat down on a stool. "Fuck him up!"

Natasha whipped out the blade on her butterfly-knife held his shirt up a few inches. "This is my masterpiece, don't squirm, please. Let the artist work."

Kraut started squirming back and forth while still chained to the ceiling. Natasha poked the point of her knife at his head. "HEY! I SAID STOP MOVING, YOU FILTHY WORM!"

Kraut stopped moving immediately. Natasha then continued her work, and started to plunge a few centimeters of her knife into the Nazi's chest. Peter was in the background, sitting there in laughter and entertainment. His eyes symmetrically locked with Kraut's for a second. Then Peter broke eye contact. "Nazis aren't human, so what's the point in looking them in the eyes." Natasha cut a round corner and kept cutting. "MMMMMMRGH! MGH!"

Natasha shushed him, leaving a bloody fingerprint on the piece of tape covering his lips. "It'll be over before you know it. And that's NEVER."

Natasha cut up a few inches, and then started cutting another half circle. Then it was finished. She ripped the piece of flesh off of Kraut's chest and handed it to Peter. It was a crossed out Swastika. Kraut's eyes focused onto the big blotch of blood on the left side of his upper-shirt. "This right here is pure art. Thanks!"

Natasha kissed Peter on the cheek. "WHOA WHOA WHOA, HOLD THE FUCK UP. YOU GUYS READ THAT RIGHT? THAT SURPRISED ME TOO! SO SURPRISING I'LL REPEAT EVERY PART OF THE CHAPTER ABOVE THIS LINE!"

 

 PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

SUBSEQUENT AFTER THE INCIDENT AT 44 AVENUE

 

Tyler finished the bolt on Peter's eye. "Alright, can you see now?" Tyler questioned him. Peter's right eye still couldn't see anything. 

"Nope. Still dark."

Tyler tightened the bolt on the frame of the robotic eye. "What about... now?"

The magnification lens inside the robotic eye blinked. It blinked twice more. "Whoa.... IT ACTUALLY WORKS! I can see!" Peter cheered, with an ecestatic emotion on his face. "You're a genius Ty. BUT YOU GUYS AREN'T BECAUSE YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT I WOULD REPEAT THE ENTIRE CHAPTER... ANYWAYS, fast foward to the present!"

 

*FAST FORWARD >>*

 

Peter patched it onto his jacket and then rolled out a blueprint. "Alright, Tasha, listen up because we only got one shot at this, my friend Phoenix is frozen on a platform that is constantly keeping him cold. We need to shut it down with something. Then we can melt the molten nickel at a temperature where it won't burn him. After that... Umm... I guess we just go after Fegelein." 

Natasha blinked and said, "Okay... So let me repeat all that... You're going after your friend named Fegelein who is-"

"No, PHOENIX."

"Yeah, Phoenix, and we're.... what?"

Peter sighed. "Alright, well let's fast forward to the next chapter so you guys don't have to listen to a lengthy and overly complicated description of the crap going down."

 

*FAST FORWARD >>*

Chapter XV: The Nuclear Option

 *PAUSE*

 

Peter walked through the living room and then was stopped by a few fingers. "Peter, you might want to hear this, Fegelein's talking about something... malevolent," Tyler informed him. Peter plopped himself down by the television in an armchair. Tyler rotated a small thin dial on the TV remote and raised the volume to 20. 

Fegelein was on the screen, speaking to the public. "...Citizens of Zhe United Schtates of America, focus your attention toward me at zhis moment, because I vill not repeat zhis message. Zhis is zhe zecond time I vill say zhis. Zhe Reich und I have made a horrible, but right decision in case of extreme action. Here in zhe Montana palace, ve have a... Erm... A nuclear response. No, ve are not at war vith any countries, as zhe other countries under our control are handling them. But our country, our perfect union... It is struggling to keep on its toes vith governmental pride. Zhere is always VONE terrorist trying to knock off zhe figurehead. Ve have had a long streak vithout tormet after zhe fall of zhe Masked Terror... But now, zhere's a new vone. Vone who has murdered the Kommandant of Neu Orleans and apparently captured zhe Kommandant of Detroit. So, und vhat I'm about to say vill haunt or threaten most of you, and it has a possibility of not happening as long as everybody remains calm and zhe terrorism and revolutions within conclude. IF zhis does not happen, ve vill send out an entire electronic pulse, ranging across zhe United States, to Hawaii, und ve even have vone in Alaska. Zhis pulse vill decay everybody down to subatomic particles, or in other vords, kill you if you are not vearing a suit of protective armor or in zhe emergency shelters placed around zhe United States. Zhe button on my desk, vhich is activated by consent of all of zhe major heads in zhe building, vill be released and vill be able to cause the effect. It vill remain here, in zhis palace, controlled by me. Und you have control over vhether I press it or not. Make your choices visely." 

 

Peter covered his mouth with the palm of his hand in despair. Then Tyler stood up to make a motivational speech. "Alright, everybody, let's get to work!"
And then he sat back down. Peter clapped once sarcastically. "That sucked fuck. Let me give you a real motivational speech:

 

Everybody SHUT THE HELL UP! We're supposed to be out there killing BAD motherfuckers! And they want to kill everyone? THAT'S FUCKED UP."

 

Fegelein then said, "Thank you for your cooperation-"

Peter whipped out his baseball bat and pointed it at the television screen. "I'm gonna kick your ass, bitch!"
Tyler held him back, "STOP!"

"THEN TURN OFF THAT PORN MACHINE- I MEAN, TELEVISION!"

Tyler looked at the screen for a few more seconds and looked through the channels. "HEY! I TOLD YOU TO TURN THAT OFF, NOT LOOK FOR THE CRAZY RICH WOMEN CHANNEL!"

"No, I'm looking for other intel on Fegelein."

Chapter XVI: Bringing the Plan Together

Peter had a blueprint of the EMP device and the melting device. Natasha walked over to Peter and asked him, "So... where are we going to get the parts for this?"

Peter pointed to a safe in the corner without facing that direction. "Go type in 1913 on that thing over there and open it up," he ordered her to do. Natasha walked over to the safe, and pressed 1-9-1-3 on the touchscreen codepad. The safe unlocked and was opened wide, full of cash. She took a money stack and weighed it in her hands, flipping through all the bills. "Where... did you get all of this? Is this stolen money?"

"Yep. Got the bank stamps on the bands, you see them?"

The blue bands that conjoined the bills had a distinct Neu Orleans stamp on them. Natasha questioned, "So you're not just wanted for murder and breaking and entering and all that... But for theft too?"

"I don't think they knew it was us who robbed it. That's what was left of what we used to kill Dovkin Schriener, Anna Pultzei, and Franz Pultzei. We're all smart in the technical region. It's the future. Everything's electronic, touchscreen, all that jazz because apparently it's a necesity when it's NOT. We get things done faster because of all these things."

Natasha nodded. "I can't remember the time I haven't seen one of those computing devices in a place it doesn't belong."

Peter chuckled and answered, "Dumpsters."

Natasha gave another example, "Chimneys."

She took him by the gloved hand, and Peter's eyes went bloodshot into space. "Whoa. Uhh.. what do I say, WHAT DO I SAY?"

"Sinks."

Natasha grasped his hand firmly and she started leaning over to his ear. "Fuseboxes."

"Phonographs."

She inched toward his side and whispered, "Stores." 

Before Peter gave another example, she shushed him with one finger. Natasha looked at Kraut, who had fell asleep. And then she gazed back into Peter's eyes. He was staring at her beautiful looks and her proximity to him. Very close. Extremely close. Too close for comfort. "What in the fuck is going on..." Natasha laughed once and then whispered into his ear, "Peter... Do you like me?"

"You better say something that isn't 'no.'" Peter nodded and answered, "Yes. Yes I do." Natasha wrapped her hands around him. "Do you like it when I do this?"

Peter nodded, "Mhmm!"

Natasha kissed him on the lips, and while that happened, Peter didn't hold back. He succumbed to Natasha. The two's lips departed from each other, and Peter gave her a look in the eye. Quickly, without thinking, he tried to move all of the stuff off of the workbench. "Peter, let's hurry this up!" she said, antsy. 

Peter quickly calculated the dimensions of the bench and then was interrupted by Natasha kissing him repeatedly. "Hold on a second! There's Phoenix's panic room!" 

Peter turned the vise's handle and revealed the panic room in the floor. "Let's do this." 

The two sprinted down into the panic room.

"What happened while I've been doing all this destruction and mayhem? What's going on while I'm saving the United States and Phoenix Leopard from despair and agony? I'm not the hero and I'm not the villain. I'm technically a vigilante. Vigilantes aren't exactly legal but they're there to clean up the crap people leave for the cops and Nazis to deal with. And to clean up the Nazis themselves. Not all heroes do that though, which makes me, Phoenix, Tyler, Abhy, Hans- well all of us, special. We don't need powers to be heroes. Everybody's got a hero inside of them whether they like it or not."

 

4:32 AM

PHOENIX'S RESIDENCE

PANIC ROOM

 

Peter moved his finger across Natasha's arm, who was laying symmetrical to him. "That was fun, wasn't it?" he asked her. Natasha nodded. "It was my first time. Thanks." 

Peter winked at her and then stood up, pulling his pants back up as soon as Tyler walked into the panic room and caught both of them red handed. He gave away his position when he said, "WHOA-HOA-HOA!"

Natasha grabbed her shirt and covered the top half of her body as Tyler went down a few more steps. "What was happening in here?"

Tyler looked at Peter who had no shirt on. "OHHHH... I get it, I got it, I got it. You two, you know?"

"Tyler, fuck off man!"

"Alright. Jeez. Well you guys woke us up at night with all that moaning and groaning and, 'OOH YEAH, DON'T STOP!' and all that, 'YOU'RE PRETTY GOOD!' and junk like that." 

"We were that loud?"

"Yeah. That Nazi bastard in the garage was woke up too. By the way, why does he have a hole in his chest-"

"Tyler, get out, PLEASE!"

 

Chapter XVII: Cool Steel

 "Took us about 5 days to construct two pieces of technology to get Phoenix outta that tight spot. So much metal, enough to construct a giant robot or something. I mean Jesus, I've got enough cuts and scrapes on my hands already. Phoenix, I'm coming buddy." 

 

LOUISIANA AIRPORT

 

Peter and Natasha walked onto Flight A-4 with their tickets. They both climbed into their seats and sat down in front of an electronic television on the seats. "Hello, and welcome to High Tide Air. If you need assistance or want to entertain yourself for relaxation, tap the screen to continue." 

Natasha tapped the screen and several movie choices pulled up. "Whoa... What are all these?" she asked. Peter answered, "Movies. Let's choose one. Umm... How about Casablanca? Heard that was a good one. Or that um... 'Citizen Kane' one."

"There's one called Fantasia with that weird mouse."

"I guess.. I could use a break from drama anyways."

She tapped it and then two headphone sets lowered from the ceiling. Peter the pair in front of him on his head. He then listened to the edited film of Fantasia...

 

Steamboat Willy appeared on the screen and gave a "Heil Hitler/Fegelein" salute with a Nazi outfit on. Peter shook his head. "Unnghh.... Nazi bullshit-"

"Sir, is there a problem?" said a plane assistant, standing still besides him.

"WHA- I mean, no. No there's no problem here."

The film began. Mickey walked into his house and took off his Kommandant outfit. "Alright what the fuck. Really? REALLY? He's- AAAAAARGH!" Peter continued to watch the cartoon. Minnie came into the foiyer of the house and gave Mickey a swift smooch on the cheek before removing his Kommandant cap and hanging it on a hat rack. "Heil to the Reich, am I right there Minnie?" he questioned her. She saluted him and said, "Heil to the Reich, there Mickey. I made you bratwurst, the way you like it; Cut into pieces and slowly cooked to the red. Pink inside!"

"Mhmm! Wunderbar! Let's give it a little taste, shall we?" he said, strolling into the kitchen with enthusiasm. Mickey did a backflip and landed onto the chair at the stool at the table. The heat-stability machine opened and the bratwurst was slung out of its inner bowels and landed on a plate in a joyful circle. So did a fork.

Mickey, while dancing a jig in his seat, pierced all rounds of the bratwurst and thrusted them into his mouth. Minnie danced on into the kitchen and snatched up the plate to throw into the dishwasher. The moment she was about to throw it like a frisbee, she missed by a small degree and flung it into the laundry room where a boiler was placed. And it flew into the boiler and melted. “Oh… Oopsie!”

She turned around to see Mickey with his hands on his hips. Minnie’s arms and head drooped down at the checkered floor. Then Mickey had a change of heart, smiling and then started laughing.

Then all of a sudden, Donald Duck crashed through the window… With Phoenix’s digital mask on. “Wait wait wait, WHAT IS THAT?” he thought, staring at Donald. In the flap of his duck wings was a pistol. “MICKEH! GET YOUR HEAD OUTTA YOUR BEHIND AND GET FHA FHLAPPIN’ FHLAP ON FHA GROUND!”

“Masked Terror! I will not stand for this!” Mickey screamed. Donald was steaming angry, and flipped a clip into the air, and caught it with grace into the pistol receiver. “FHAN… DIE RAT!”

Mickey grabbed a nearby knife and disarmed Donald with a knife throw. Peter stopped the movie and disturbed Natasha. “Wha- Why’d you stop it?”

"Something on there I didn't like. The fact they're making satire out of Phoenix, I'm not gonna let that slide because that's a load of bullshit. Let's watch... Umm... Casablanca."

The film started playing as soon as he tapped the option. Then an entire graphic image of Hitler giving a salute pulled up. "GODDAMMIT, alright how about we watch NOTHING!" Peter complained, shutting it off. The stewardess walked by him and questioned, "Sorry, is there a problem, Sir?"

"NO! Oh, I mean, uh, nope. There's no problem... here.... I guess... Yeah there's nothing wrong," he responded, nervously. Peter watched her stroll away, and noticed a relaxation switch on his seat handle that had a headrest on it. "Ooh. Neat." Then two headrest-sized cushions appeared and clamped against his head. "If your headrest is uncomfortable, press the button again to retract the headrest. Thank you."

"I'm already uncomfortable the way I am. On a Nazi plane in a Nazi country ran by Nazi fuckwads who do Nazi things. The only one who should be comfortable is Hitler, 6 feet under."

Peter was tapped on the shoulder by Natasha. "Peter... You brought our weapons, right?" she whispered to him, concealing her voice. 

"Yeah?"
"Wait, then how did they not get detected by security?"
"I turned on the EMP device so it would shut the metal detector off."

"Oh! Alright, I understand."

 

Chapter XVIII: The Time for Action

 "We're in Montana. At the park where Phoenix's statue is. He didn't deserve a fate like this. I just hope he's still alive under there. Once we free him, the United States has something to fear again. Louisiana Justice is what I call that. You're time is now Phoenix. See you there."

Peter and Natasha brought their suitcases through the park and found the statue. Phoenix was... flipping them off. 

"Wait, this is your friend?"

"You bet."

"You mean *this* guy? The statue? The one flipping us off?"

"Yes. I know what it looks like, don't even ask."

Peter unzipped his suitcase and turned on the EMP device. He laid it on top of the slab, and then pulled the heating device out. "Alright, be on the lookout, cause this is gonna look pretty shady to other people," Peter informed her. Natasha started walking in circles around the statue, trying to surveil the area. The heater switched on and displayed a screen that read, "72 DEGREES, RADIATING."

The heat was applied against the molten nickel. Peter started tapping his foot in nervousness. "Come on, heat the hell up NOW." The heater went up a degree every second. The temperature was then 132 degrees. "Alright, we're over the hundreds, see anything?"

People walked past and seemingly ignored the two. A drop of molten nickel melted and dripped onto the concrete material of the slab. Peter repeatedly tapped the heat button. "COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!!!!"

The heat reached 296 degrees. The molten nickel started melting into the slab. Phoenix's jeans were revealed as well as one of his combat boots. "Oh my God... He's coming out, YES! Okay that sounded wrong." People walking by began to notice their deed. "Peter! You might want to hurry it up! People are getting suspicious of what we're doing and they don't like it!"

Peter controlled the burn temperature and maintained it at 550 degrees. Half of the metal had melted. He rotated to the other side and melted that half of the molten nickel. "Come on..." 

Natasha noticed someone calling the police on their mobile device. "PETER, WE HAVE TO GO! HURRY UP!" 

The half melted eventually, and Phoenix fell out of the mold. The middle fingers retracted and Phoenix landed on top of Peter. "GOD, PHOENIX, DID YOU GAIN LIKE A HUNDRED POUNDS?" Peter shook Phoenix until he awakened. "Phoenix, buddy, you gotta wake up! Come on! Phoenix, WAKE UP! WAKE THE HELL UP!"

Then Phoenix's mask displayed an angry expression. "Wait, what the hell?" Peter said, as Phoenix grabbed Peter by his neck and started standing up. "NAZI SCUM!"

 

"HEY HEY HEY! WAIT! I'M NOT A NAZI! PHOENIX, I'M YOUR FRIEND! REMEMBER? PETER SHKEPPALTIGER!

 

"TELL IT TO MY FIST!"

 

And then... Phoenix noticed the piece of flesh pinned to Peter's jacket. The crossed out swastika stuck out.

Phoenix released Peter, having him land on his feet. Peter coughed and hacked a few times. "Jesus CHRIST... Your grip hasn't changed a DAY!" he complained to Phoenix. 

"Where... where have I been?"

"The past year, you've been frozen as a statue. Put on display in the park. So you are a year late for dinner! Eh? Ehhh? You guys... Get it... Umm..." 

Phoenix shook his head along with Natasha. "It's been a year and your jokes still suck ass, Peter," Phoenix informed him. Peter grew angry.

"Fuck you, man. Come on."

Chapter XIX: The Hill to Fegelein

 "Alright, Fegelein. I got a lethal weapon with me. Ready to feel its wrath? I bet you are. He's gonna cave in your skull, rip out your colon and make a balloon animal out of it. Something along those lines. As long as it's violent, slow, and painful, there's nothing I'm gonna do to stop him while he's in action. And I hope you feel every... last... second. The ripping and the tearing- It's got a little bit of a jingle to it. But that jingle will be the last thing you hear."  

The three scurried into the car with the technology in bags, and Peter cranked the engine. Every electronic appliance inside turned on, blinking with resplendent light. "Oh, where's my manners? Phoenix, this is Natasha. Ass-kicking machine." 

"Huh. Nice to meet you, but really quickly, how many Nazis have you killed?" 

"A fuckload."

"Oh ho ho! Well then, I think we'll get along nicely!"

The car shot off with the three in them, heading to Helena. "Phoenix, in case you don't know, let me fill you in: Fegelein took control after you killed Hitler-"

"Wait-"

"...Fegelein's planning-"

"Peter!"

"What?"

"I didn't kill him." 

Peter instantly parallel-parked between two cars. He slowly turned around to face Phoenix in the back seat. "What... What did you just say?" questioned Peter. Phoenix's mask displayed an image of Hitler and a grenade, and answered, "The pussy killed himself. That's how I got frozen, he pulled the pin to a grenade at the last second and I jumped into cover. Last thing I see, a glass pane traps me against a corner and the blast goes off. And I'm being frozen."

Peter didn't look Phoenix in the mask. "He... He didn't kill Hitler. That's surprising. I'm speechless, I don't know what to say. People have been looking up to him for murdering that asshole and he DIDN'T EVEN KILL HIM." Peter pulled out of the parking spot. Phoenix inched his head past the two front seats and said, "What? Something wrong?"

"Yeah, you're receiving bullshit for a man you didn't even fucking kill. People of the United States of America think YOU KILLED HITLER!" 

"Peter, shut up, it's over with. Go over your plan thingy." 

 

"Ungh... We're going to the Nazi palace to kill Fegelein. Fegelein said over TV that he's gonna kill the United States citizens that aren't protected with an EMP field that will deatomize people. Shred them to paste, and we gotta stop it NOW. But he said he'll do it only if terrorism occurs. So the plan is, don't cause shit until we get into the palace. Understand?"

"Gotcha."

"Yep."

"We only got one shot at this. Anybody presses that button, we're all seriously fucked. And we're gonna take the blame, and we're either gonna be shot, stabbed, lynched, or whatever shit the American people have in store for us. It's not gonna be pleasant either."

 

Chapter XX: The Death of Fegelein

 "Alright. We do this suave. Gotta keep that in mind, enhance the suave-y-ness... Alright. You got this." 

Phoenix punched the door open and the three headed inside. Peter looked around at the nearly empty lobby. "Phoenix, you remember where Hitler's office was? Guide us there before we get cratered by the fuckhead guards!"

Phoenix nodded, and crashed his entire body through a guard, splattering him across the stairs and onto Peter's clothing. "Damn, I smell like iron." Peter tagged along with Phoenix, and Natasha followed the two from behind. Peter pulled the slide back on his pistol, and the electronic indicator read, "9/10 BULLETS REMAINING." Guards noticed them going up the staircase. "HALLO! VHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHO ARE YOU?" 

Peter flipped him off and said, "Your momma, bitch!"

The guard sprinted with his rifle over to the spiral staircase, and suddenly watched Natasha slide down the rail with her butterfly-knife. And then SMACK! Natasha stabbed him in the face with her knife, and kicked him over the railing to break his neck from the fall. Peter continued to follow Phoenix, and watched guards surround the corpse on the first floor. "FUCK, PHOENIX, BOOK IT- NOW!" Peter screamed. Phoenix bolted upstairs to the floor of the office and stared both ways. "Umm... To the right, this way!" 

Phoenix popped his neck in place and then arrived at the office. Natasha had just arrived and screamed, "GUYS! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!" 

"Got a gun on you?" Peter screamed back.

"No!"

Peter tossed his pistol at Natasha, and she caught it with both hands. Two soldiers reached the floor, and Natasha shot both in the head, knocking them down the staircase. Phoenix kicked the door open and noticed Fegelein with Phoenix's cyberpistole. Fegelein grinned with a malicious face. "DIE, VERMIN!"

He shot the entire clip into Phoenix's body. "PHOENIX, NO!" Peter squealed. The holes in Phoenix's body started gushing blood into the clothes on the outside. And then he fell over. Fegelein dropped Phoenix's cyberpistole. Peter shook Phoenix's body back and forth repeatedly. "PHOENIX! PHOENIX? Come on DON'T BE DEAD! PLEASE!"

Then he heard some mechanical sounds. Peter laid his ear against Phoenix's chest. "Daw SHIT!" Peter flinched backwards out of the doorway, and the electrocution vest around Phoenix's chest electrocuted the area around him. Phoenix had been revived. "I'm back, MOTHERFUCKER." 

Fegelein opened the seal to the destructive button and laid his finger across the top. "STAY BACK, Masked Terror. As soon as ve had heard you somehow thawed out of your statue form, we knew you were coming. If any of you takes a step forwards, I'll mash the button and kill EVERYBODY." 

"You.. YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER! DON'T YOU DARE PRESS THAT BUTTON!" 

"VHAT ARE YOU MAD AT, RED COATED ARSCHLOCH?"

 "MAD? I'M HERE TO KILL YOU!"

"Oh ho ho... Is that so? Alright. Masked Terror, leave me and Mr. Redcoat alone. Und Masked Terror, enter the room again, and the United States will be vaporized." 

Natasha walked back over to the room, covered in blood. "What'd I miss?"

"Hmm... I got an idea." Peter tapped her on the shoulder and held his hand out. "Can I see my pistol for just a second?" he questioned her. She nodded, handed him his pistol, and POW! Peter shot Fegelein in the head and killed him. Everybody stayed still for a few seconds. Nobody moved. 

"Wow. That was really easy. Alright, secure the room!"

 

Peter pulled up the headmaster's camera in the office, and broadcasted the office to the United States. "Attention, people of the United States. Fegelein is dead. And it's about time to tell you, no more Nazi bullshit. Phoenix, take it away."

Phoenix's eyebrows lowered. "What?"
"Say something."

"I thought you were speaking."

"Just get over here."

 

Phoenix stood in front of the camera.

 

“United States, listen up, cause we’re only gonna say this once. I am NOT a terrorist. I’m trying to help you guys. These men came into our country and messed it up, and you guys are gonna just gonna WHAT? Pucker up and kiss Nazi ass like it’s the only thing you can do? No. We’re gonna fight back. No more bullshit. So here’s what we’re gonna do. If you want things to be the way they were before, before all this chaos, because I can tell each of you are sick of the strict rules you’ve got now: Kill every Nazi and every accomplice you see. And if you don’t, I’m gonna press this button and kill you all. This country is a tune, and it must be sung together. Same goes for you, Hawaii, Alaska, Canada, and Mexico. Whatever’s left, fight back. Let’s do this.”

Natasha said, “Guys, we’ve got people coming!”

Peter pulled out his baseball bat and grinned. “Alright guys, let’s even the odds a little. FUCK THEM UP!”

 

BLOODWORTH IV: PETER STRIKES BACK

WRITTEN BY TAI GOODMAN

STAY TUNED FOR BLOODWORTH V!

 

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.04.2019

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