No Country For Old Farts

Dr. Wily finally had Mega Man right where he wanted him. The mad scientist had to admit his foe had serious mechanical balls for scaling his skull tower to the tippy-top. All the metal dragons that breathed fire on him. All the construction helmet gizmos that frustrated the hell out of him with their cheap tactics.

And yes, all of Dr. Wily’s maverick hunters had another shot at their blue-suited rival, whether it was Elec Man zapping him into next week, Bomb Man blasting everything to pieces, or Guts Man throwing hunks of metal at Mega Man with the ease of snowballs. Even after all of that, Mega Man was rocking and rolling with his arm cannon charged up and aimed directly at Dr. Wily’s massive robotic horse.

The mad scientist’s poofy white hair and lab coat blew backwards in the breeze created by his fired missiles. Mega Man blasted nearly all of them out of the sky except for one that exploded right up his “iron diaper wearing ass”. Dr. Wily pulled a few levers and had the horse breathe more flames onto Mega Man. And then more missiles were fired. And then electrical bolts shot out of the horse’s eyes.

Mega Man’s wires and pieces were jutting out of his wrecked body, especially his now crippled legs which wouldn’t take him to safety anymore. He laid there in a pile of metal and mechanical shit waiting to be squashed by the robotic horse’s hooves. Dr. Wily’s eyes beamed with deranged excitement. He smiled the creepiest pedophile smile he could. He rubbed his hands together as he prepped to deal the final blow to his lifelong rival. And then…

“Wily…Wily…WILY!”

That final cadence awakened him right as he was ready to stomp on the last remaining pieces of Mega Man’s battered body. Only he didn’t achieve victory. The only violent mess he caused was in his bed, puke covering his moustache, beard, and what passed for clean white sheets in this hellhole of an elderly prison. Dr. Wily gazed around with puffy red eyes and knew full well he had woken up into another nightmare. He was no longer the vile, cunning mad scientist that the world had grown to fear. His robotic warriors had since been blasted into scrap metal…and he had since been committed to a retirement home to live out the rest of his miserable existence, complete with a thin body and a sensitive stomach.

Dr. Wily’s stomach was the only sensitive part about living in this white-walled shithole. The overweight nurse with a pugnacious mug, crossed arms, and thinning blond hair could be described with any word but sensitive. Nurse Cassie North stood over his bed with a disgusted scowl on her face and fists balled so tightly they could snap anybody’s neck. The broken down mad scientist could do nothing in her presence but cower under the puke-laden blankets.

Cassie ripped off the sheets and revealed a trembling eighty year old in striped red pajamas underneath. She leaned in and growled, “What did I tell you about making my job harder than it has to be?” No response, just more shaking from Dr. Wily. She continued, “You think I enjoy cleaning up your disgusting puke? You think that makes me happy? I could be at home right now with my kids. I could just leave your ass here to die and feed you nothing at all. Is that what you want?” Still no response. She grabbed his arm with skin-purpling tightness and rolled up his sleeve, holding a hypodermic needle with the other hand.

“No! Leave me alone! You can’t do this to me!” quivered Dr. Wily as he squirmed in a vain attempt to get away.

“HOLD STILL, GODDAMN IT!” He did. “Your days of being a terrorist douche bag are over, old man. This ain’t no country for old farts. I don’t have time for your precious little pipe dreams. You’re not a doctor. You’re a broken down piece of amphibian shit! Now stay still while I jab this motherfucker in your arm. Don’t make me force it in you this time.”

Cassie and Dr. Wily had different ideas of what constituted force. He screamed for a bit once the needle was jabbed in his arm, but then relaxed in his messy bed drooling and teary-eyed.

“There we go. Nice and comfy. Maybe this time you’ll have dreams about making my life a little easier here at this dump of a nursing home. God, I can’t wait to retire. You little piece of shit.” Cassie stomped out of the room and left Dr. Wily to drain his eyes and saliva glands even further, numb state and all.

This was how things were going to end for Dr. Wily. He was a broken shell of his former self. He went from creating the most threatening robotic warriors the world had ever seen to wallowing in his own biological sludge. Never again would he have a shot at defeating Mega Man and achieving world domination. Never again would he be feared as the iron-fisted badass he once was. If he would have led a clean life free of violence and terror, would he still end up in this crappy nursing home? Would he still be subjected to the same white walls, the same boring schedule, the same dementia, and the same sloppy food that reminded him too much of what he was laying in currently?

A loud bang interrupted his glazed-over thoughts and widened his droopy eyes. “Could it be?” he asked nobody in particular. “Are they here?...No…nobody’s coming for me. Why would they? Just kill me already…Just let me die peacefully…”

“That’s not an option, Master Wily,” said a tough feminine voice. This voice wasn’t as husky or brutal as Cassie North’s was. It at least had some tenderness to it. Was it another nasty-tempered nurse? Was it someone finally coming to put him out of his misery? No. Dr. Wily opened his eyes and saw the voice came from his own creation, Stardust Woman. There she stood; six feet of metallic beauty, complete with an arm cannon, star-shaped armor, and the most lovely red eyes a robot could possibly have.

Standing next to Stardust Woman was another creation of Dr. Wily: Slaughter Man. Judging from his navy blue Viking armor, massive spiked hammer, and bulky body, it must have been him who created the loud thrashing noise. The walls were definitely cracked and shattered enough. Why weren’t the other patients screaming in horror? Were they so out of it that they couldn’t feel fear anymore, just like Dr. Wily himself?

Slaughter Man held his hammer high in the air and proudly declared, “We’re here to break you out of here, Master! We still have a chance at defeating that squirmy little bastard Mega Man!”

“…I’m sorry…” wheezed Dr. Wily. “I can’t make it anymore. I don’t want to fight Mega Man again. I’m aching all over. I’m tired as hell. Can you just do me a favor and smash me over the head with your hammer? I don’t want to live anymore.”

Stardust Woman scowled at Dr. Wily and folded her arms, just like Cassie did earlier, but with more concern in her posture and voice. “What happened to you, Master? This isn’t the Dr. Wily who built us with his own genius. You’re going to give up just like that? We’re practically gifting you an exit from this place. You can at least live out the rest of your days in your laboratory. Anything is better than this dump.”

“…You’re…you’re not even real…neither are you, Slaughter Man…I’m dreaming again…If Cassie catches me dreaming again…she’ll beat me…”

Slaughter Man pointed his hammer at his broken master and shouted, “Who gives a shit what that fat whore thinks?! Give me five minutes alone with her and I’ll smash her body all over the goddamn floor! You’re worth a hundred of her, Master Wily!”

“…No, I’m not…I’m worthless…I’m going to die anyways…I could never beat Mega Man before…and I can’t do it now…Please…just leave me here to die…Don’t drag this out any further than it has to be dragged out…”

As Slaughter Man growled and seethed in the background, Stardust Woman sauntered over to Dr. Wily and held his frail, bony hand in hers. Not even that would restart the old man’s heart, but hopefully her words would. “Let me tell you something about Cassie North and the rest of these sycophantic nurses and orderlies. They’re tough when it comes to dealing with fragile old people, but once they come face to face with a couple of your creations, all the courage is gone. Cassie North will sing a different tune once she sees what we’ve got for her.”

Just when Dr. Wily formed the tiniest smile, when the smallest glimmer of hope shined in his damp eyes, a meaty hand grabbed Stardust Woman by the skull and slammed it against Slaughter Man’s oversized head, dizzying both robots. Cassie put both of them in headlocks and held them there while she berated Dr. Wily some more.

“What did I tell you about your silly fantasies, old man? They don’t mean shit here. Your robots are just glorified tin cans. And you? You’re mediocre at best and a shit stain at worst. You terrorized the planet and failed. I’ll be damned if you fuck with my vacation!” She slammed Stardust Woman and Slaughter Man’s heads together again…and again…and again…each time drawing scratchy shrieks from their now former master. Once they were dizzy enough, Cassie heaved Slaughter Man’s hammer like it was nothing and smashed his heavy chest in with repeated blows. Stardust Woman fired off lasers from her cannon, but was obviously too disoriented to aim correctly. Cassie jerked her cannon arm behind her back and fired lasers up her ass, dismantling her with a war scream.

Dr. Wily cried one more time as he watched the last of his creations get easily wrecked by an ordinary woman. Maybe there was some truth in her painful rhetoric. Maybe he was deserving of the insults. Maybe dying was the only answer after all. Cassie seemed to agree as she breathed heavily and marched over to the foot of the bed after discarding the robots’ bodies like the junk they ended up being.

“I am tired of your horseshit, Doctor, and I use that title loosely. You need to know when to give up. You need to conform just like every other sad sap in this nursing home. If not, I could just kill you and write you off as natural causes. I’m sure the head doctor wouldn’t mind, the REAL doctor, by the way. Face it, Wily: you can’t win. You never could. Your imagination is shit, just like whatever’s in your pajama pants.”

Dr. Wily gazed his sore eyeballs at the needle in Cassie’s belt. Surely, that would be enough to put him down and end this madness once and for all. He had nothing left to lose. His soul was gone. His robots were trash. His mind was deteriorating with images of Cassie North mocking him with her angry tone. It was his time to go and let Mega Man escape with yet another victory.

“If it’s my time to go…and I can’t take my creations with me…I’ll find something else to take to the grave…” Wily snorted and sniffed.

“And what would that be?”

“…Your dead ass!” Using his last bit of elderly strength, Dr. Wily pulled the needle from Cassie’s belt and stabbed her in the throat with it, pressing down on the plunger afterwards. Cassie sang a different tune, alright. Her eyes bulged with the horror of her own mortality. Her mouth bled buckets. Her husky grizzly bear voice was nonexistent. Her thick legs could no longer hold her even thicker body.

Once she dropped to the linoleum ground, Dr. Wily’s mind went from empty to insane as he looked into her dying eyes. This wasn’t dementia overriding his “mediocre” creativity. This was a full on stream of rage. He got out of bed and kneeled beside her, pulling the needle out with savage force. He stabbed her in the throat again. And in the eyes. And in the face. He stabbed her over and over again until she was unrecognizable. No longer was he the silly scientist who always lost. He finally did something with his life worth commending: ridding the world of someone who was more villainous than he was.

He kept stabbing and stabbing as other orderlies rushed to save their fallen friend. They pulled him off of her and he just went limp with a smile on his face. Slaughter Man and Stardust Woman were never there to begin with, hence why the white walls were still whole. As Dr. Wily was no doubt being dragged to his death, it didn’t bother him that his work was incomplete. There were more orderlies and nurses here that deserved a brutal stabbing. All Dr. Wily could do was send a message to everybody here: the real villains weren’t the mad scientists and kooky robots. They were the humans who pretended to be more than pond scum. Dr. Wily was okay with that.

Weapons and Warriors

“What are we looking at here? Formaldehyde, necrolium, nitro benzene. This thing actually has over seven thousand chemicals. Don’t get me started on what they do to you. Prematurely wrinkled skin, stunted lung growth, tooth loss, cancer…”

“Cut the bullshit, Dr. Archer, you know damn well this is wrong,” said Nurse Taylor Patrick, who stood across the mad scientist’s lab in pink scrubs with her arms folded tightly to her chest.

“Wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Miss Patrick,” said Dr. Adam Archer as he ate a slice of pepperoni pizza while twisting the last few bolts on his “project” with a monkey wrench. “You know those goddamn hippies outside of our lab? They just so happen to be getting in the way of production. And if it wasn’t for the hard work of these loyal CEO’s, you’d be out of a job. Well, not really a job. More like an internship. Or indentured slavery. Haha!”

Dr. Archer dropped a slice of pepperoni into the “life core” of his machine and ate it shamelessly, causing Taylor to cover her mouth in disgust. “Look, I need this internship, I really do, but putting a serial killer’s mind into a robot body? That’s just sick and twisted. Not only that, but it’s probably illegal too! You know, there’s always that remote possibility of prosecution.”

“Don’t worry about the legal shit, Miss Patrick,” said Dr. Archer as he finished tightening the last bolt on his robot. “It’s nothing a little hush money can’t fix. And trust me, we’ve got enough hush money to go around, kind of like that welfare shit you hippie liberals love so much. Haha!” Taylor rolled her eyes and shook her head.

The puffy white haired scientist in a dark lab coat stepped backwards to admire his handiwork…and to uncomfortably wrap his arm around Taylor’s shoulders. “You see this, my dear?” said Dr. Archer as he waved his hand about for theatrical purposes. “I want you to meet the new enforcer for Sexton-Naylor Oil Trade.”

“SNOT?” said Taylor when putting the company name into an acronym.

“We don’t call it that, sweetheart,” said Adam before patting Taylor on the shoulder and causing her to shove his arm off. The mad scientist danced happily over to the power box to flip the electrical switch while Taylor sat down in the fetal position with bile coming up from her throat. The poor nurse rocked back and forth silently praying to herself that she would live though this scientific nightmare.

“World? Meet Cain Gutwrench, society’s most sadistic, bloodthirsty, animalistic, and gory serial killer! He’s perfect for slaughtering protesters and anybody else who decides to screw up business for us! Are you ready? I said! Are! You! Ready?!” Adam threw down the electrical switch and lightning bolts flooded through the cords attached to this hellish creation. The robot thrashed and wailed about while Taylor Patrick cried softly to herself. Was this internship really necessary? Were there no other jobs out there for a nurse like her? How did she wind up in this shit-hole of a project? What the fuck was she thinking?!

The lightning flowing through the robot’s body turned purple, green, and blood red whilst crashing into the metallic body in larger waves. Taylor slowly picked her head up from her fetal position to see that the electricity was getting slower and gentler before it fizzed out. The cords running through Cain Gutwrench’s body snapped off and the creature from the ninth circle of hell slowly sat up on the table with an ogre-like groan.

Cain’s face was that of a metallic dragon. His body was that of a robotic skeleton. His hands and feet both held scythe blades that could cut through a telephone pole like a stick of butter. He had black bat wings on his back to make his appearance even more frightening. The life core in his chest had the appearance of blood and ooze in a nuclear container.

Taking one look at this robotic monster caused Taylor to tuck her head and cry a waterfall onto her knees. She wanted so badly to leave this place, but she was too terrified to stand up and move. She shook harder than one of Dr. Archer’s power tools.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t be like that! It’s going to be amazing! There’s going to be blood everywhere on the streets! It’ll be great!” boasted the sadistic scientist, who received a slash to the gut for his efforts. Taylor screamed like a banshee as Cain Gutwrench stood up from the table and hoisted Dr. Archer’s gushing corpse high in the air. The murderous robot gave a sick laugh before tossing the limp body off to the side and allowing the stomach wound to soak the floor.

As Cain slowly stalked the nurse in the corner, Taylor screamed bloody murder once again before crawling quickly on her hands and knees toward the door. The robot flapped its bat wings and stood in Nurse Patrick’s way, causing her to scream and sob some more while on her knees.

“Please! Please don’t kill me! I’ll do whatever you want! I swear! Just please let me go!” Taylor begged with her hands together prayer style.

Cain held a finger to his monstrous face and creepily shushed her. With tears and snot rushing down the nurse’s face, Cain petted her hair gently and sang in his demonic rasp a lullaby for her. “Hush little baby. Shh! Don’t say a world. Momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring. Shh. It’s okay, little princess. I won’t let the big bad monster hurt you.”

Taylor tucked her head down and puked all over Cain’s bladed feet, to which the serial killer said, “Oh, for shit’s sake! You can stop acting now! We all knew you switched out life cores! Well, everybody except Dr. Archer, but you get the point!”

“Sorry,” said Taylor in a weak, shaky voice. “it’s just that seeing the violence for the first time…it’s just a little too much, that’s all.”

“You saw it alright, Taylor. And you’re going to see it again…and again…and again. Did you already forget how angry you were when the CEO stiffed you on your payments? Did you already forget how traumatized you were when they stuck you in this dump basement with that pervert Adam Archer?” Cain leaned his head down so that he was making direct eye contact with his co-conspirator. “Did you also forget that time when Adam offered you money to put your mouth on his…you know what? You’re right. It is a lot to take in at once.”

The trembling voice turned from frightened sadness to volcanic anger when Taylor said, “Trust me, Cain, I didn’t forget about any of that. I had fantasies every night about killing Dr. Archer. I thought about slaughtering every executive in this whole fucking building for the shit they put me through. It’s all I could think about. All those sleepless nights led to this moment. And yet…I still feel empty and cold. This isn’t right, Cain. This isn’t right at all.”

“Do I also need to remind you that it was you who swapped out life cores in my body with out Dr. Archer’s knowledge? Just because you don’t like the results of your actions, doesn’t mean you’re excused from them. There’s no turning back, Taylor. Either you see this whole thing through, or you can puss out and sit in a jail cell. Which will it be?” asked Cain.

Taylor wiped the tears and snot from her face and slowly rose to her feet to give the robotic demon her answer. “I’m sorry, Cain. I really am. I can’t go through with this, not after seeing Dr. Archer looking the way he does. You slaughtered him like a farm animal. It smells awful in here!”

“It’s okay, Taylor. I understand,” said Cain as he put his bony hand on her shoulder. “Not everybody can handle this kind of violence. Which is exactly why…I’m not letting you live a life as a prisoner. Then again…you won’t be living at all!”

In one swift motion, Cain kicked Taylor in the stomach and impaled her body on his scythe feet. Her spine was severed, her life juices poured out of her like a biblical flood, and the room just got a whole lot smellier now that she emptied her intestines and bladder. After discarding her corpse on the floor like common trash, Cain said, “I’m sorry, Taylor. It had to happen. You were going to jail for this one way or another. But since you took the coward’s way out, there was no future for you. Revolution is only for the brave.”

There were heavy knocks on the bolted steel door of the laboratory along with shouts of, “Open up! Security! Open up this goddamn door now before we get the battering ram! Move it!”

Cain Gutwrench reached inside his life core, pressed a few buttons, and detonated a secret bomb that Taylor tucked away in the core should things go south. They went south in a hurry and now a volcanic flow of hellfire blew through the laboratory, taking the SWAT-like security team and anybody else standing around with him to the underworld. Even with the sprinkler system going nuts to put out the fire, it grew and grew until the SNOT building resembled a corporate effigy. One way or another, this shit was going to end badly for somebody. It wasn’t best for business. But then again, if Taylor was still alive, she wouldn’t give the shits that came out of her intestines when she did die.

Wilde & Jung

TEAM NAME: Wilde & Jung


NAME: Bellatrix Wilde
AGE: 50
OCCUPATION: Mad Scientist
CANON: Wilde & Jung


NAME: Cletus Jung
AGE: 45
OCCUPATION: Monster Psychologist
CANON: Wilde & Jung

Ever since playing Final Fantasy IV and fighting the ultra-insane Dr. Lugae and his bumbling creation Barnabas, I’ve had an obsession with the mad scientist occupation. I went with that angle in 2002 when I created Dr. Scott Cain and Dr. Herman Stan (then known as Dr. James Lugae). After those two raped and sodomized everything in their paths, here I am in early 2011 thinking to myself, “How can I out-crazy those two freaks of nature?” Come on over, Bellatrix Wilde and Cletus Jung. Because as American Bang once said, “We are wild and young! We have just begun!”

In order to out-crazy the likes of Scott Cain and Herman Stan, I had to make these two new characters into 100% Complete Monsters. It was the only way. Bellatrix and Cletus had a daughter together and they molested the shit out of her until she was a legal adult. Not shocked yet? How about the fact that they create and psychological taint monsters for a living and set them loose on the city? Still feeling numb? Then try this shit on for size: these two nut jobs decided to outdo themselves and create Gorgeous George, a slobbering, green blooded, razor fanged, heartless, brainless ogre who would have snapped Cletus Jung’s spine if Bellatrix Wilde wasn’t there to rescue him. It’s so nice to see such a beautiful couple working together…and then having hot tub sex afterwards.

In case Gorgeous George wasn’t doing enough damage to the fictional version of Portland, Cletus and Bellatrix pulled together some money and hired an assassin who’s twice as fucked up as they are, but two decades younger and ten times hotter. Her name was Nina Machete and her only job was to rape the shit out of an autistic trauma patient named Elijah Mellows and give him a goopy black version of the clap. Apparently, Elijah’s testimony would have been enough to lock Bellatrix and Cletus away for a long time, despite the fact that Portland’s police force is running scared.

With so much chaos, blood, and mayhem painting the streets of Portland, there were only so many ways to live under such a society. The first solution was a tragic one that claimed the life of one of Portland’s most profound psychologists: Dr. Charlie Graeme. He was the only hope for this city and even he cracked under pressure, even with the wisdom of a 55-year-old man. Dr. Graeme locked himself in his office and committed suicide via hanging from his work desk. He had no idea how many people cried for him and still wouldn’t know even to this day.

Dr. Charlie Graeme left one last solution for the people of Portland and that would be the second way of coping with the violence: leave the fucking city. You know your city is a crappy place to live when the only solution is to give up and let it burn to the fucking ground. To help with that was a very good friend of Dr. Graeme’s: an intercity bus driver named Kelly O’Brien. Her bus driving skills alone would be enough to transport the remaining population of Portland out of the city and to literally a tropical paradise. Elijah Mellows, who was riding in the seat right behind Kelly, led the passengers in singing “They Dance Alone” by Sting. That heartwarming moment alone was enough to bring hope to traumatized citizens of a citywide madhouse.

But whatever happened to Bellatrix Wilde and Cletus Jung, the original two subjects of this blog post? Remember what I said about letting Portland burn to the ground? Well, legend has it that the chaos the two scientists have caused was so out of hand that the city did indeed collapse on itself and take those two nitwits with them. That’s what the legend says. Nobody knows for sure because nobody wants to go over there to find out and possibly get eaten by Gorgeous George. Or sodomized by Wilde and Jung, one of those two.

There are three reasons why Wilde & Jung was a flop. One, it was only 11 chapters long, which meant only so many words, which meant no agent would take it, so I didn’t try. Secondly, the style of writing I employed at the time could only be described as a hyperbolic joke every other sentence, which amounted to awkward and generally shitty writing on my part. But the third reason is the one that’s most important: because nobody likes Complete Monsters. Even the most hardcore horror fans will tell you that these kinds of characters are hard to deal with. There are devout BDSM practitioners who despise Christian Grey; that’s saying a lot! So if Wilde and Jung ever get the band back together, maybe I could tone down the CM level just a little bit.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“’More than happy.’ People like to say that a lot, don’t they. ‘Oh, I’ll be more than happy to do that for you.’ Doesn’t that sound like some kind of mental disease to you? ‘Aw, man, we had to lock him up in the loony bin. He just wasn’t right in the head. He was…more than happy!’”

-George Carlin-