A Flock of Beachkrew, 2/2: Wave Age Love Song
Aug 21, 2016 8:20:36 GMT -6
Spencer Adams, Bonnie Blue, and 2 more like this
Post by The Polar Phantasm on Aug 21, 2016 8:20:36 GMT -6
Hey y'all, Polar here- what you're about to read is part two of a mini-Guardians adventure written by myself and my UCI Tag Team Championship partner Bonnie Blue (whuuuut); check her piece out for the rest of this nonsense.
That said, hope you enjoy- should be back to usual Guardians nonsense next week, but 'til then enjoy A Flock of Beachkrew! See y'all next time- 'til then...
Stay frosty. <3
-B.
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[Scene: Little China, Chicago; more specifically, Guardians HQ (beneath the Drunken Dragon)... about four and a half hours ago. We see a bedroom, somewhat sparsely furnished... judging by the black and white checker pattern on the ceiling and floor, the toys scattered around the room and the white and blue singlet hung up near the door, though, we can safely assume this is the bedroom of Cameron and Crystal Bankston (known to the casual reader as 'the Polar Phantasm' and 'Nightmare', aka 'the Unstable Elements'). Our view turns to a desk, fairly uniform in design... atop the desk sits an access terminal, vector-graphic simulation of a large man on screen noted (amongst numerous other words in small print) as "WADE MOOR". Next to this desk (not quite entirely 'behind' this desk, to say) sits the Phantasm... he is apparently testing out the rotation action on his desk's chair, easing himself to dizziness. We hear the sound of running water from the next room... then, above the water, we hear the sound of a young woman brushing her teeth. And shouting into the next room as she does it, to boot- it sounds a bit ridiculous, but Crystal - as with all the Bankstons - identifies ridiculous as their medium much as sculptors would with clay.]
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): ...and they pretty much ran 2015? Wow- shit just fell right off after we split out!
Phantasm (half-shouting): Yeah, that's what it looks like. Another in a long line of shitty heel stables who took over in Reading.
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): At least they're not the Team of Treachery!
Phantasm (half-shouting): We can all be thankful for that; how can a team suck that bad and still have Frank on it?
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): Logan ran it!
Phantasm (half-shouting): I know, baby; I was being rhetorical.
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): What?
[She spits, then takes a sip from something and gargles briefly.]
Phantasm (half-shouting): Bonnie's having my baby.
[She spits again; there is a brief pause before she shuts off the water.]
Phantasm (half-shouting): Crystal?
Nightmare: You are very, very lucky that I know you were fucking with me right there... I had to catch myself before I had a 'flare-up'.
[She walks into the room, evil-looking smirk on her face. He sighs, rolling his eyes.]
Phantasm: No heckler worse than a woman scorned and on fire, I guess. Or something. Please don't kill your husband for his terrible jokes; he has work to do.
Nightmare: So do it. Tell me about this half-assed heel stable, Mr. Know-it-All.
[He blows a bit of air out of his mouth.]
Phantasm: They got so big they ran the company. They got so big they took on a huge amount of people... shit, Gravedigger was even a member.
Nightmare: Whoa. Talk about 'attitude adjustment', right?
Phantasm: Practically 'American Badass' 'taker, for sure. I mean, look at these fuckers...
[He presses a few buttons; the screen is filled with a number of pictures, all solo shots of former members of a little group known as the 'Beach Krew'.]
Nightmare: ...yuck.
Phantasm: Wait a second... this guy. I know this guy from somewhere.
Nightmare: ...which one?
[Polar taps an image on the screen; beneath this picture reads the name "JARED HOLMES".]
Nightmare: Probably from TV, right?
Phantasm: ...no. From... where's this guy from?
[Two clicks later, Polar gets a huge clue...]
Phantasm: ...oh. Of course...
[...and with that, memories come flooding back.]
Nightmare: ...oh, shit- Holmes went to Tulane? Maybe you-
Phantasm: 32 Audubon Boulevard.
Nightmare: Where does it say-
Phantasm: -not on the screen... but on a lot of run tickets.
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[Scene: New Orleans, Louisiana; more specifically, Audubon Boulevard. This beautiful uptown New Orleans neighborhood is known for a number of things... the beauty of its 200+ year old live oaks, for instance. Its proximity to everything old money New Orleans craves, for another- St. Charles Avenue, Audubon Park, Tulane University and a shit ton of bars are within walking distance... but just far enough away to give a feeling of being 'away from it all'. Much of that feeling comes from the other thing the neighborhood is known for... its obnoxious level of exclusivity. Audubon Boulevard is a 'closed drive'; anyone attempting entry is given a once-over that would make the Border Patrol blush, lest they have a simple window decal marking them as the 'chosen' (so to speak). The houses, no matter how ornate or simplistic, go for at least $1.5M on the open market... many on Audubon Boulevard (or neighboring Rosa Park - no relation to the civil rights figure, of course... generally, her kind aren't allowed. Those without a multimillion dollar sticker, I mean) have sold recently for $3M - $5M to give you an idea of how obnoxious we're talking about here. That said, this is not 'now'... at this moment, we're viewing uptown New Orleans in the year of our old two thousand and eleven. Either way, though... doesn't make much of a difference. People in this neighborhood have been uppity fucksticks since they owned brown people. We see a dented blue Ford pull up in front of a beautiful white and red-brick home with an ornate marble staircase to its entranceway... the door is flanked with weathered bronze gas lanterns, flickering a bit in the Wednesday evening breeze. The car's door opens; out steps a young Cameron Bankston, bleary-eyed and flustered. He has an obvious bruise on his face.]
Phantasm: Oh, holy fuck- so sore... Skinrider, you motherfucker. Don't work so fuckin' stiff, man; some of us have second jobs to get to the next day.
[He sighs, realizing it's already Wednesday.]
Phantasm: Or the day after. Shit- I gotta stop time traveling so much. Ok; new rule. Three- ok, two weeks off from the 'shrooms. I'm forgetting too much shit.
[He looks around for a second, confused.]
Phantasm: ...right, pizzas. Uh... 32 again, yay. My old buddy 'Jared'.
[He digs into his back seat, producing two large pizza boxes. He hefts them with his right hand, closing his door with his left... he looks up at the house, towering above him.]
Phantasm: Fuckin' ivory tower, man. No wonder this dude doesn't remember me even though he sees me at least once a week; I bet this dude doesn't care to remember anyone who has to climb these steps to get an audience.
[Proceeding up the stairs, Kid Phantasm reaches for the bell; he presses the button, noticing it rings like an old-school clock chime inside the house. Classy.]
Phantasm: If I ever have a house this nice... fuck, I don't know what I'd do with it.
[He chuckles to himself.]
Phantasm: Other than name it New Antarctica. Of course.
[The inner door opens, revealing a young man familiar to many... including Kid Phantasm, though for very different reasons. Hey kids, check it out- it's Jared Holmes!]
Holmes: Pizza, alright. Here, come in man-
[Jared steps aside, waving Cameron into the house; the foyer is at least the size of his bedroom.]
Phantasm: ...wow. Alright, man- I figured you'd eventually remember me.
Holmes: Huh? I was just gonna go get my wallet and I didn't want the neighbors seeing you hanging out on the porch. Wait, there's supposed to be wings- barbecue; no, wait... Jamaica jerk wings. I distinctly remember jerk wings were supposed to happen; where they at?
[Holmes picks up a microbrew from a thousand dollar glass table; he glares somewhat triumphantly, as if awaiting a plea from this subordinate to ameliorate any and all concerns at whatever the cost to him personally.]
Phantasm: Uh... shit, really? These fools- you got a phone I could use? I gotta call back and see if they forgot to hand that to me or what-
Holmes: Use your cellphone.
Phantasm: I'm... I'm out of minutes, man; come on, I'm trying to help you out here. Just-
Holmes: Just leave the pizzas, go back to whoever you've gotta go back to and get that shit straight. Jerk wings; fuck it, get the barbecue too. And get that comped, will you? We'll settle up when you get it right.
[Too exasperated to even speak, young Cameron Bankston sighs and heads for the door.]
Holmes: What happened to your face, man? You get the shit beat out of you?
[Kid Phantasm turns back, non-plussed by this entire day... without the energy to make up a story.]
Phantasm: I'm a wrestler. The bruises come with the job.
Holmes: Really, now? Well, then.
[Jared gives the Phantasm a once-over, stifling a chuckle.]
Holmes: Wrestle me up some customer satisfaction, Pizzaman.
[Just a few moments later, on his way down the steps, something occurs to the young Phantasm as something catches his eye... the thought that crosses his mind is simply "I think I hate that guy". Not realizing it, Cam stares off at a white and green sign on the neighbor's lawn.]
Phantasm: Yeah, Wave- go fuck yourself. Now I'll go be a good bitch boy and fetch this asshole's chicken.
[...the sign he was staring at, of course, is a fairly common sight in uptown New Orleans. Along with a cartoony picture of an anthropomorphic tidal wave in fisticuffs position is a simple message in text colored in by a greenish blue rush of current... "GO WAVE!"]
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[Scene: bedroom of the Unstable Elements, continued. Slightly shaking her head in wonder, Nightmare soaks in the details of Polar's story. Making connections himself, Polar finds himself drifting into a thought.]
Phantasm: Green Wave. Huh. Jared Holmes went to Tulane...
Nightmare: Lots of people have gone to Tulane, Cam.
Phantasm: I know. Just... some coincidences never quite feel like coincidences. Either way, it's got me wondering- how would a 'Beach Krew' be on the wane during a post-Wave world? They're... they've gotta be-
Nightmare: Sleeping beast. Up to something.
Phantasm: Yes and yes- exactly. Beaver's stepping up, Moor's come back to the living... fuck. Last thing we need on top of Sanchez, a crumbling Chicago and Omega being temporarily assigned to fucking space is high tide coming in on us.
[Nightmare sits on the bed, trying to assume Polar's usual role of looking at things analytically.]
Nightmare: Forget the future; stick with the present. Moor and Beaver, right? You already know Beaver, front and back- guy doesn't strike me as a technical dynamo. He doesn't have anything you haven't already seen, right? So what about Moor?
Phantasm: Beaver's not exactly the riddle of the fuckin' sphinx, for sure; he's no jobber, but he's not exactly a heavy hitter either. He's like the New York Jets of wrestlers. Moor, though... guy's a beast. It may take both Bonnie and I to put Moor down when it comes time to drop the hammer, and that makes Beaver a bit of lagniappe nobody wants on the side. Plus, who the fuck knows what else happens- fuckin' Hacksaw Jim Thuggin shows up, shoots Bonnie and I with blowgun darts and pulls our hearts out like Mola Ram in Temple of Doom before the match for all I know.
[The door opens; Bonnie Blue enters, hair a bit damp. She's dressed and ready for an international adventure... the Bankstons not so much.]
Nightmare: Hey, Bonnie- we were just talking about Moor and Beaver.
Bonnie: Oh, joy- Beach Krew. My favorites. What do y'all make of that lot?
Nightmare: ...disorganized pack of thugs who rose to prominence on a wave of frat-boy rape culture.
Phantasm: ...two parts nWo, one part community college hacky-sack team.
Bonnie: True and true... but thing is, they're still a sickness upon the wrestling business. Hardly the plague they once were, but... still, bears mentioning... anytime you think they're gone, they come out of remission like cancer soon as you blink.
Phantasm: Bonnie, I know this is a shitpile of fuck, but we'll get through it somehow... and we'll keep these belts. We're the Guardians; we do this teamwork thing every day of our lives. This isn't a frat boy reunion for a street fight; it's a frat boy reunion for the UCI Tag Team Championship. They've got no idea what they're up against.
Nightmare: Fuckin' a.
Bonnie: Yeah, well... my fear's that we don't have any idea what we're up against yet either.
Phantasm: Then we'll be ready for that. Come on; you know my playbook's barely been cracked yet. You about ready for this London swing?
Nightmare: Yeah, I can't believe we get to hang out with our Ambassador to the UN of supes...!
[The Bankstons chuckle a bit, though Bonnie is not amused.]
Bonnie: You two finished yet? Get dressed and come on- we're gonna be late.
[Polar laughs as he stands, stretching a bit.]
Phantasm: Not me! ARCTIC goes faster than a motherfucker.
Nightmare: Ugh- not this again.
Bonnie: Look, you get there whenever the hell you want, ok? I have to be there on time because I'm the one representing our whole freaking country, ok? ...whatever, I'll be waiting in the hangar.
[Bonnie stamps off; both Bankstons seem confused.]
Nightmare: Something's weird with her lately.
Phantasm: ...at least one something, for sure. Maybe a few somethings.
Nightmare: Think it's this Hampshire fella?
Phantasm: I... heh. I kinda hope so, honestly. "Likes a boy" is pretty far from worst-case scenario when it comes to "reasons your tag partner got all weirdsies".
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"You know... I really can't get over the beauty of it all. The beauty that is... surf saxophone." -Les Claypool, Hendershot
"'Do you think taxpayers would like it, Utah, if they knew that they were paying a federal agent to surf and pick up girls?'
'Babes.'
'I beg your pardon..?'
'The correct term is babes, sir.'" - Point Break
Born in the future, destined for glory in the past; her entire culture was wiped from existence in the blink of an eye. As a founding member of the Guardians, and with the aid of a wisecracking humanoid cat and a cybernetic Hank Brown, she uses her time traveling Ranchero to help defend the Metaverse and the UCI, the importance of which is as yet unknown. Time waits for no man, but it obeys one woman... THE DAUGHTER OF TIME, BONNIE BLUE!
Introduced to one another in a deathmatch, they became a team both in combat and in life. He, the Polar Phantasm, calculating yet comedic, intense yet irreverent... she, Nightmare, virtuous yet violent, belligerent yet beautiful. Together they work to defend this universe as strategist and infiltrationist (respectively) of the Guardians... they are THE UNSTABLE ELEMENTS!
Amongst the denizens of the underworld - and I'm not talking the 'criminal' underworld - he's public enemy number one. He's a rogue demonologist, practitioner of the mystical arts and generally an all-around ok guy once you get to know him; that all said, few and far between are those keen to stick around the seemingly cursed young man from East London. Personal and professional hangups aside, he has made great strides on behalf of the people of Earth as the founder (and Speaker) of the Renaissance Men, Earth's first global multinational metahuman peacekeeping organization! Say what you will about him, you've at least got to admit he's got his own... unique style. Yeah, that's a good way to put it... it's as good a description as any of the man they call "JACK OF SHADOWS"... JACK HAMPSHIRE!
[It's a big strange world, especially since the Wave. Now both aware of the existence of an international metahuman peacekeeping effort (the Renaissance Men) and represented in their number (by Bonnie Blue, America's representative amongst the rabble), the Guardians find themselves with some allies in their fight to preserve order. But it's not all sunny days for the Guardians, by any means... specifically, UCI Tag Team Champions Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm have an overcast afternoon ahead of them. Mere days before Overload and their matchup with Dustin Beaver and Wade Moor, the Guardians will get perhaps a bit of a taste of things to come...]
[...after all, far as this team is concerned... even a day at the beach is no day at the beach. Keep your eyes on the circling skies, Guardians... be on your guard, and... for some reason, something tells me y'all should be on the lookout for... seagulls?]
United Championship Infinite presents... Guardians: A Flock of Beachkrew, Part Two of Two:
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POLAR PHANTASM #14: "Wave Age Love Song"
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[Scene: Pembrokeshire, Wales; more specifically, the beach at Barafundle Bay. Our heroes (Bonnie Blue, Nightmare, Jack of Shadows and the Polar Phantasm) arrive at the scene just in time to see absolute fucking anarchy reigning supreme. A number of smaller (5' or so) demons run toward beachgoers trying to scamper for their lives... two larger demons (about the same size as our heroes, anyhow) ready themselves for battle and give an evil hiss toward the Guardians (and their ally from the Renaissance Men). A very large (at least a hundred pounds in weight and a foot in height over the largest of the four, if an ounce or an inch) demon turns to the four, giving a loathsome roar.]
Phantasm: Jack, what's the play?
Hampshire: What do you mean, "what's the play"? I don't exactly carry a crib sheet for this sort of thing, you know? It's not ABC or anything.
Bonnie: You got any inklin' of what we're up against here, Jack?
[He reaches into a coat pocket, producing a pocket-sized book; he flips through a bit, stopping on a page.]
Hampshire: Sand demons. These three are the big pricks among the bunch... big fella's 'Rafe Worr', other two are 'Autumn Aquissarius' and 'Drixin Veezit'. They're beach rats; the worst kind.
[Bonnie and Polar look at one another in resignation.]
Bonnie: Size of the Jam we're in... we're cursed or somethin'.
Phantasm: Totally. We'd better try and clear this up before someone calls the Police.
[The demon to their left, 'Autumn', responds.]
Aquissarius: Your whole Human League... all the time, just Talk Talk.
[The demon on their right, 'Drixin', continues.]
Veezit: Just get to the Clash already... so we can make you into Missing Persons!
[The largest demon, 'Rafe', foregoes speech in favor of blowing flames at the four of them... Nightmare steps in front of her allies, cloaking herself in flames as she absorbs the blast.]
Nightmare: You surfer bros are going down today... question is, do you want to go Dead or Alive?
[She fires back- literally, as she decides to fight fire with fire- to little effect.]
Worr: Hahaha! Don't you know it's Madness trying to scorch a demon?
[...as her teammates spread out around her, Nightmare charges the large demon... and gets batted away for her trouble. The smaller demons approach as she tries to get back to vertical base...]
Veezit: Hey there, Toto-
Aquissarius: Bow Wow Wow.
Veezit: This is Europe... you're a long way from Kansas!
Nightmare: Look- Rick Astley!
[The demons turn their heads for a second; they are rewarded with a flaming flying tackle... into the bay. Nightmare flies back to find Polar trying to counter the flames with a frost jet as Bonnie and Jack flip through his book.]
Phantasm: I was a little distracted there, baby, but... did we have a Cameo, or did you just real-life Rickroll two demons?
[Before Nightmare can respond, she watches Polar overpowered by the massive demon; he is tossed to one side like an empty cardboard box, landing roughly in the sand as if he were so many golf balls.]
Bonnie: Polar!
Hampshire: Christ, mate, you practically flew to Berlin. You still with us?
[Groggily, Polar responds.]
Phantasm: Yes. Not sure if good thing or bad thing.
[The demon roars as he prepares to charge them.]
Nightmare: Shit, this guy makes an Art of Noise...
Bonnie: ...Big Audio Dynamite, for sure. Crystal, behind you!
[Nightmare turns, mid-air, to see her two lesser demon friends approaching... they mimic her flame-job, though only on their head and arms.]
Veezit: Hey, Blondie- pipe down, yeah?
Aquissarius: Right, what he said- Men at Work here!
[They leap at Nightmare, grabbing her each by a leg... she attempts to fly away, but they tug harder and harder.]
Bonnie: Who you callin' Blondie, Circle Jerks?
[Polar sees the spot Nightmare's in, frantically climbing to his feet to rescue his wife... he looks to his right to see Rafe Worr, massive sand demon, charging at him like a Peterbilt. He draws his twin cryopistols, aiming at the juggernaut; suddenly, the impending freight train slows as if on 'instant replay'. Polar realizes suddenly that Bonnie - who he assumes is responsible for this, as it's kind of her thing - has likely saved his life.]
Phantasm: Judas Priest that was close! Thanks, partner-
Nightmare: Cam- do something!
Bonnie: You'd better handle that; I think we've got this.
[Jack studies the page one last time, somewhat nervously; we see that Bonnie has etched a bit of a summoner's circle in the sand around the Jack of Shadows.]
Phantasm: Good luck, we're all counting on you.
[Jack looks to Bonnie, amusement on his face.]
Hampshire: Sorry, but... did he just Airplane! us?
[The Phantasm fires four shots; he clips the demons' arms, causing them to release his bride... the shots cause their flames to go out, as their arms and the top of their heads are covered in an icy residue... then become like ice themselves.]
Phantasm: Enjoy the Cold, you beach-bum bitches.
[The demons begin to shatter as they crumble into piles of crushed ice.]
Nightmare: Talk about Erasure, huh?
Phantasm: Eh, that was a reach... but I'll take it.
[They glance over to see Bonnie doing her best to slow Rafe Worr as Jack is amidst his incantation... she is mildly successful, though right as Jack finishes his phrase he gets tossed to one side by the barreling beach blob.]
Bonnie: Jack-
Hampshire: I'm fine; keep a lock on him!
Bonnie: -can't hold onto him long-
[She herself gets tossed; now free of his slow-time prison, the demon roars once more and blows flame into the air in triumph.]
Nightmare: Hey, Cock Sparrer... remember us?
Phantasm: Maybe he thinks we're a Minor Threat, Crys.
Nightmare: Sad, but too often the case with Simple Minds.
Worr: Iceman, Firewoman- your kind is a disease, and I will give you the Cure!
[His roar knocks them back... and Nightmare clear out of the sky.]
Nightmare: Oingo Boingo!
Phantasm: Yeah, my thoughts exactly. We need a plan... gotta go at this with a New Order, you know?
Bonnie: Cam!
[He detects the voice of his tag partner from the other side of their opponent... and responds in kind.]
Phantasm: Bonnie!
Bonnie: Saturn or Kronus?
[Polar and Nightmare exchange glances.]
Nightmare: Gods, or...
Phantasm: ...Eliminators. Bonnie- it's a Saturn day, for sure!
Hampshire: Crystal- give me a hand with this!
[The Elements make a run for it; Worr clutches at the Phantasm, who slides on an ice slick just beneath the giant's grasp and spins himself a round. Polar, in position, awaits his partner... slowing time just a bit, Bonnie flies in as if Trinity in the god-damn Matrix with a massive spinning heel kick. As she closes in on contact, Polar goes for a roundhouse leg sweep; as they connect, Bonnie releases her grip on the flow of time. In what seems like milliseconds, the massive beastly demon makes impact with the sand, actually shaking the grainy fluid-earth that makes up the 'ground'. Polar and Bonnie look over to see the Jack of Shadows, surrounded by a circle of flame, forcefully damn his quarry to beach-demon hell with a few short phrases in a language none of them can quite place. The creature is swallowed by the sands, a belch of fire accompanying its exit... and the sands covering up its escape. The four regroup, dusting (sanding?) themselves off.]
Bonnie: Jack, we're sorry this happened- and for this... mess.
[They look around at the carnage; mild, by Guardians battle standards, but still fairly epic.]
Hampshire: Eh, it's just Wales. It's not like we're in Bournemouth or something.
Phantasm: Not bad for a Foreigner, right?
Hampshire: Not bad for anyone, mate- even Yanks.
Bonnie: Please don't call me that- it just doesn't sit well with me.
[He puts his hands up a bit.]
Hampshire: Duly noted; apologies, all around. Right then, back to London- Terranaut, party of four.
[...with that, a portal opens before them; they step through, the Elements expressing some confusion.]
Phantasm: Still don't get how that works... but I kinda like it. We need a Terranaut.
Nightmare: If he figures out Alex makes his own liquor, we just might get one.
[On the other side of the portal... we have returned to Renaissance Men HQ, notably less glamorous or technologically advanced than Guardians HQ but with a lot more rustic old-world charm. Bonnie, already starting to know her way around the place, follows Jack toward the main chamber; the Elements struggle to keep up, still in awe of the place.]
Nightmare: Why can't we get a kickass ancient building for headquarters?
Phantasm: Because America's not even 300 years old yet, dear.
Hampshire: So what do you Yyy- chaps like to do for fun after a scuffle with the underworld?
Phantasm: Eh... as you said in Chicago, "When in Rome..."
Hampshire: Well, then... karaoke night at the pub it is.
Bonnie: Oooh... that gives me an idea.
Nightmare: Oh man, me too- let's do it, Cam.
Phantasm: I'm with you guys... bring on the karaoke.
(* - 80s Band Name Drop Counter: 33. Somebody call Guinness- if that's not record for number of 80s bands mentioned in one single narrative scene in a short story written for an online roleplay wrestling federation, I'll Buggles myself. -B.)
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[Scene: East London, England, UK; more specifically, the Nag's Head Pub. This quaint neighborhood establishment, classical by pub standards, is in no way prepared for Crystal Bankston's karaoke interpretation of Midnight Oil's "Beds are Burning"... but they're getting it, either way. She stands on a small stage in one corner of the establishment next to a pair of dartboards, blasting the microphone (and, in turn, her audience) with nigh-furious emotion.]
Nightmare (singing): The time has come! To say fair's fair- to pay the rent, Lord, to pay our share! The time has come! A fact's a fact! It belongs to them! Let's GIVE IT BACK-
[She gestures exuberantly with the guitar riff. At a nearby table, Jack looks to Polar, giving a bit of a laugh at his new friends' wife's behavior.]
Phantasm: Yeah, Crystal's...
Bonnie: ...a bit of an acquired taste.
Phantasm: Let's go with that. That's a fair estimate.
Hampshire: How'd the ice guy and the fire gal get together, anyway?
Bonnie: They weren't always ice guy and fire gal, for one thing-
Phantasm: -true... though she and I always have been fire and ice*.
(* - In case you're wondering just how they did get together... hell, it's a story worth telling again. Last time it was told was back in the pre-Wave days - 2012's Kid Phantasm #7, "The Ballad of Fire and Ice". I wonder how different that story sounds on this side of the Wave... or when I'll feel like telling it again. Heh. -B.)
Hampshire: So how do you keep it together, then?
Phantasm: You ever get that feeling like nobody will ever accept you for your weird and love you for that shit?
Hampshire: Well, of course, mate... wager everyone does, even most married folk.
[Bonnie laughs.]
Phantasm: That woman puts up with all of my shit because I put up with hers; even on days we can't fucking stand each other, it still works. Add to that the fact that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and we've made this wonderful child we love so much-
Bonnie: Jeffy says hi, by the way.
Phantasm: -oh, very funny.
[They're jarred from their conversation by three things... polite applause at the end of Nightmare's song (strained as it is), Nightmare joining them with a huge smile on her face... and Bonnie's name appearing on screen as next up to perform.]
Nightmare: Oh my god I needed that so bad...
Hampshire: Midnight Oil... interesting choice.
Phantasm: Interesting lady.
Hampshire: I'll say. Speaking of which-
Bonnie: Yeah, I had this idea to sign up... 'cause of earlier, when... fuck it, I just gotta do this.
[Somewhat surprisingly, Bonnie looks back to them as she heads toward the stage...]
Bonnie: How do I look?
Phantasm (as 1970s Billy Crystal): You look mahvelous.
[On screen, the words "BLONDIE - ATOMIC" appear... Polar begins applauding before the music even begins.]
Phantasm: Fuck yeah, Blondie. Man, what's up with today? It's been 80s as hell all afternoon.
Hampshire: Some days are more retro than others, mate. Just go with it.
Nightmare: I like that. Just go with it, Cam.
[He sighs.]
Phantasm: Alright... fuck it. Y'all pushed me into it.
[He heads to the small DJ station, whispering to the DJ... as "Atomic" by Blondie comes through the speakers, the DJ nods to Polar in response to his inquiry. Bonnie visibly exhales and prepares herself. At the table, Nightmare looks to Jack... his eyes, though, are on stage. As Nightmare looks, she sees that upon that stage her teammate has her eyes firmly locked on the man to her right as if returning fire.]
Bonnie (singing): Uh huh, make me tonight... to-niiiiight, make it riiiiight...
[Polar approaches, sitting beside his wife... they view the scene before them, then look knowingly at one another.]
Nightmare (whispered): Likes a boy.
Phantasm (whispered): Worse things could make your partner all weirdsies.
Bonnie (singing): Ohhhhh, your hair is beautiful... ohhhhh, toniiiiight...
[Her voice drops an octave; her face takes on an almost... flirty? sort of look.]
Bonnie (singing): ...atomic!
Nightmare (whispered): Their kids would be adorable-
Phantasm (whispered): Crystal, don't even fantasize my tag partner pregnant; at least the last time that happened I could blame myself!
[She elbows him in the ribs; he doubles over a bit. Jack, suddenly distracted, turns to the Bankstons with concern.]
Hampshire: You alright, mate? Kidneys hurting or something?
Nightmare: Eh, I just had to sock him one. Cam, what'd you sign up for?
Hampshire: Hey, yeah- you're up next, then?
Phantasm: Yeah, I'm on deck... little something I've had rattling around my head, gonna see if I can iron it out.
[On stage, Bonnie begins wrapping up the 80s 'surf rock' classic...]
Bonnie (singing): Toniiiiiight... make it magnificent... toniiiight, make me toniiiiiight, toniiiiiiiiight...
Nightmare: Not to be out of line here-
Phantasm: -oh god, buckle up.
Nightmare: -and I'm no attorney... certainly not in this country... but I'm pretty sure where you're concerned, friend... that karaoke performance would count as consent.
Phantasm: Fuck, Crystal-
[As terrible a joke as it is, none of them can help laughing.]
Hampshire: Oh fuck, that's rich...
Phantasm: Four years together and I still have no idea just how sick this particular puppy is, Jack.
Nightmare: And you never will with that attitude.
[She gives her husband a teasing wink.]
Nightmare: You're up to bat, slugger.
Hampshire: Break a leg, mate!
[Bonnie joins them, seeming a bit more reserved than she did moments ago... with a bit of a giggle, she 'tags' her partner 'in'.]
Bonnie: Did I sound alright?
Hampshire: I think you outdid ol' Debbie Harry herself, luv.
Nightmare: About the only vote that matters, I think-
Bonnie: Oh, Crystal- seriously, how did I do?
Nightmare: You killed it, sister. Now, the real question... what's Cam gonna do?
[On screen, the words "R.E.M. - IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (AND I FEEL FINE)" appear; they all glance at one another with questioning looks.]
Bonnie: Oooh, a tough choice- this one could go sideways on you fast.
Nightmare: He said he'd been working on something... this one could go sideways on him really fast!
Hampshire: No offense, Crystal, but your husband's a bit of a maniac.
Nightmare: Oh, god... I know. I totally know.
Bonnie: It, uh... works for them.
Nightmare: I'm a little drunk, so I'll admit this- just watching him plot shit makes me wet.
Bonnie: Wow.
Hampshire: Bit too much information, perhaps... but good to know, if it ever comes up.
[Both ladies laugh. The music starts... and with it, Cameron Bankston addresses reality itself.]
Phantasm (singing): This place, it started when we got Waved... Crows and Dunes and outer space... and Jeff Purse is still afraid...
Bonnie: Stars and bars...
Nightmare: ...go Cam!
Phantasm (singing): Overdose of dick pic, make us all grow sick, world serves a true need, listen to the beast feed... get yourself a one, two, three, no, three as the ladder starts to topple and there's no belt, where, belt... Wave is a rave, all the freaks are coming out, and the government is Sanch and the Sanch is bugged out, uh... Syndicate is everywhere, I feel too many Frankies breathing DOWN- MY- NECK...
Hampshire: Fuck off- look at this guy!
Phantasm (singing): ...week by week opponents baffled, tapped, stretched pinned... look at shiny gold belts! Fine, well... Uh-oh, Beach Krew, population, stable group... but it'll do, competition; better save yourself!
Bonnie: Yeah you right, partner.
[Crystal laughs.]
Phantasm (singing): World serves a great need, Guardians the heartbeat... who else has been flowing deep since jump, street... may I mention, representing, tag fight, champs might... be feeling pretty psyched.
[He gives Bonnie an over-the-top wink. She laughs.]
Bonnie: Go Polar! Woo!
Phantasm (singing): It's the end of the world as we know it- come on, y'all sing! It's the end of the world as we know it... it's the end of the world as we know it-
[He holds out the microphone; the entire population of the pub, as confused as they may be by Polar's interpretation of REM's classic, respond in chorus.]
Patrons (singing): -and I feel fine!
Phantasm (singing): Nine o' clock, Overload, shoot promo gets old... talk shit, stroke dick, listen to yourselves spit... open mouth, bullshit, more shit, looped shit... every promo cookie cutter, every time? Just quit... Light a candle, light a joint, shut the fuck up, make a point... watch your ego swell swell swell uh-oh... No fear, nothing but commitment and desire... in a tournament, a tournament, a tournament of liars! Even at its worst, UCI is still better than that time- you know what time.
Bonnie: He's right about that...
Nightmare: I'm still not altogether clear on the- you know what, fuck it. Just pretend I get what he's singing about.
Hampshire: With you there, luv.
Phantasm (singing): It's the end of the world as we know it- two more times, end of the world as we know it- one more... the end of the world as we know it-
Patrons (singing): And I feel fine!
[With that, Jack makes a sudden decision... he dashes for the stage, jumping in as backing vocals.]
Phantasm (singing): It's the-
Hampshire (singing): -time I had some time alone...
[Nightmare turns to Bonnie, seeing the big smile on her face...]
Nightmare: So I guess it's safe to say we double date well.
[Bonnie just gives her a sarcastic smirk.]
Bonnie: Who said this was a date?
[And, with that... we leave the three Guardians and the Speaker of the Renaissance Men to enjoy their night out in London. That said... it feels weird closing a Guardians story that didn't have Alex Richards in it. I wonder what he's up to right now?]
----------------------------------------
[Scene: a restroom. Alex Richards sits on a toilet, pants around his ankles, reading a copy of 'FANGORIA' magazine. He glances up, noticing he's not alone...]
Richards: You did this to yourselves, people- never trust a narrator.
--------------------------------------------
A FLOCK OF BEACHKREW
Series conceived by Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm
Episode II: Wave Age Love Song
Episode written by the Polar Phantasm
'The Guardians' created by Bonnie Blue, Jay Omega and the Polar Phantasm
(Come home soon, Spaceman.)
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. All rights reserved.]
That said, hope you enjoy- should be back to usual Guardians nonsense next week, but 'til then enjoy A Flock of Beachkrew! See y'all next time- 'til then...
Stay frosty. <3
-B.
------------------------
[Scene: Little China, Chicago; more specifically, Guardians HQ (beneath the Drunken Dragon)... about four and a half hours ago. We see a bedroom, somewhat sparsely furnished... judging by the black and white checker pattern on the ceiling and floor, the toys scattered around the room and the white and blue singlet hung up near the door, though, we can safely assume this is the bedroom of Cameron and Crystal Bankston (known to the casual reader as 'the Polar Phantasm' and 'Nightmare', aka 'the Unstable Elements'). Our view turns to a desk, fairly uniform in design... atop the desk sits an access terminal, vector-graphic simulation of a large man on screen noted (amongst numerous other words in small print) as "WADE MOOR". Next to this desk (not quite entirely 'behind' this desk, to say) sits the Phantasm... he is apparently testing out the rotation action on his desk's chair, easing himself to dizziness. We hear the sound of running water from the next room... then, above the water, we hear the sound of a young woman brushing her teeth. And shouting into the next room as she does it, to boot- it sounds a bit ridiculous, but Crystal - as with all the Bankstons - identifies ridiculous as their medium much as sculptors would with clay.]
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): ...and they pretty much ran 2015? Wow- shit just fell right off after we split out!
Phantasm (half-shouting): Yeah, that's what it looks like. Another in a long line of shitty heel stables who took over in Reading.
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): At least they're not the Team of Treachery!
Phantasm (half-shouting): We can all be thankful for that; how can a team suck that bad and still have Frank on it?
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): Logan ran it!
Phantasm (half-shouting): I know, baby; I was being rhetorical.
Nightmare (mumbling, shouting): What?
[She spits, then takes a sip from something and gargles briefly.]
Phantasm (half-shouting): Bonnie's having my baby.
[She spits again; there is a brief pause before she shuts off the water.]
Phantasm (half-shouting): Crystal?
Nightmare: You are very, very lucky that I know you were fucking with me right there... I had to catch myself before I had a 'flare-up'.
[She walks into the room, evil-looking smirk on her face. He sighs, rolling his eyes.]
Phantasm: No heckler worse than a woman scorned and on fire, I guess. Or something. Please don't kill your husband for his terrible jokes; he has work to do.
Nightmare: So do it. Tell me about this half-assed heel stable, Mr. Know-it-All.
[He blows a bit of air out of his mouth.]
Phantasm: They got so big they ran the company. They got so big they took on a huge amount of people... shit, Gravedigger was even a member.
Nightmare: Whoa. Talk about 'attitude adjustment', right?
Phantasm: Practically 'American Badass' 'taker, for sure. I mean, look at these fuckers...
[He presses a few buttons; the screen is filled with a number of pictures, all solo shots of former members of a little group known as the 'Beach Krew'.]
Nightmare: ...yuck.
Phantasm: Wait a second... this guy. I know this guy from somewhere.
Nightmare: ...which one?
[Polar taps an image on the screen; beneath this picture reads the name "JARED HOLMES".]
Nightmare: Probably from TV, right?
Phantasm: ...no. From... where's this guy from?
[Two clicks later, Polar gets a huge clue...]
Phantasm: ...oh. Of course...
[...and with that, memories come flooding back.]
Nightmare: ...oh, shit- Holmes went to Tulane? Maybe you-
Phantasm: 32 Audubon Boulevard.
Nightmare: Where does it say-
Phantasm: -not on the screen... but on a lot of run tickets.
------------------------------
[Scene: New Orleans, Louisiana; more specifically, Audubon Boulevard. This beautiful uptown New Orleans neighborhood is known for a number of things... the beauty of its 200+ year old live oaks, for instance. Its proximity to everything old money New Orleans craves, for another- St. Charles Avenue, Audubon Park, Tulane University and a shit ton of bars are within walking distance... but just far enough away to give a feeling of being 'away from it all'. Much of that feeling comes from the other thing the neighborhood is known for... its obnoxious level of exclusivity. Audubon Boulevard is a 'closed drive'; anyone attempting entry is given a once-over that would make the Border Patrol blush, lest they have a simple window decal marking them as the 'chosen' (so to speak). The houses, no matter how ornate or simplistic, go for at least $1.5M on the open market... many on Audubon Boulevard (or neighboring Rosa Park - no relation to the civil rights figure, of course... generally, her kind aren't allowed. Those without a multimillion dollar sticker, I mean) have sold recently for $3M - $5M to give you an idea of how obnoxious we're talking about here. That said, this is not 'now'... at this moment, we're viewing uptown New Orleans in the year of our old two thousand and eleven. Either way, though... doesn't make much of a difference. People in this neighborhood have been uppity fucksticks since they owned brown people. We see a dented blue Ford pull up in front of a beautiful white and red-brick home with an ornate marble staircase to its entranceway... the door is flanked with weathered bronze gas lanterns, flickering a bit in the Wednesday evening breeze. The car's door opens; out steps a young Cameron Bankston, bleary-eyed and flustered. He has an obvious bruise on his face.]
Phantasm: Oh, holy fuck- so sore... Skinrider, you motherfucker. Don't work so fuckin' stiff, man; some of us have second jobs to get to the next day.
[He sighs, realizing it's already Wednesday.]
Phantasm: Or the day after. Shit- I gotta stop time traveling so much. Ok; new rule. Three- ok, two weeks off from the 'shrooms. I'm forgetting too much shit.
[He looks around for a second, confused.]
Phantasm: ...right, pizzas. Uh... 32 again, yay. My old buddy 'Jared'.
[He digs into his back seat, producing two large pizza boxes. He hefts them with his right hand, closing his door with his left... he looks up at the house, towering above him.]
Phantasm: Fuckin' ivory tower, man. No wonder this dude doesn't remember me even though he sees me at least once a week; I bet this dude doesn't care to remember anyone who has to climb these steps to get an audience.
[Proceeding up the stairs, Kid Phantasm reaches for the bell; he presses the button, noticing it rings like an old-school clock chime inside the house. Classy.]
Phantasm: If I ever have a house this nice... fuck, I don't know what I'd do with it.
[He chuckles to himself.]
Phantasm: Other than name it New Antarctica. Of course.
[The inner door opens, revealing a young man familiar to many... including Kid Phantasm, though for very different reasons. Hey kids, check it out- it's Jared Holmes!]
Holmes: Pizza, alright. Here, come in man-
[Jared steps aside, waving Cameron into the house; the foyer is at least the size of his bedroom.]
Phantasm: ...wow. Alright, man- I figured you'd eventually remember me.
Holmes: Huh? I was just gonna go get my wallet and I didn't want the neighbors seeing you hanging out on the porch. Wait, there's supposed to be wings- barbecue; no, wait... Jamaica jerk wings. I distinctly remember jerk wings were supposed to happen; where they at?
[Holmes picks up a microbrew from a thousand dollar glass table; he glares somewhat triumphantly, as if awaiting a plea from this subordinate to ameliorate any and all concerns at whatever the cost to him personally.]
Phantasm: Uh... shit, really? These fools- you got a phone I could use? I gotta call back and see if they forgot to hand that to me or what-
Holmes: Use your cellphone.
Phantasm: I'm... I'm out of minutes, man; come on, I'm trying to help you out here. Just-
Holmes: Just leave the pizzas, go back to whoever you've gotta go back to and get that shit straight. Jerk wings; fuck it, get the barbecue too. And get that comped, will you? We'll settle up when you get it right.
[Too exasperated to even speak, young Cameron Bankston sighs and heads for the door.]
Holmes: What happened to your face, man? You get the shit beat out of you?
[Kid Phantasm turns back, non-plussed by this entire day... without the energy to make up a story.]
Phantasm: I'm a wrestler. The bruises come with the job.
Holmes: Really, now? Well, then.
[Jared gives the Phantasm a once-over, stifling a chuckle.]
Holmes: Wrestle me up some customer satisfaction, Pizzaman.
[Just a few moments later, on his way down the steps, something occurs to the young Phantasm as something catches his eye... the thought that crosses his mind is simply "I think I hate that guy". Not realizing it, Cam stares off at a white and green sign on the neighbor's lawn.]
Phantasm: Yeah, Wave- go fuck yourself. Now I'll go be a good bitch boy and fetch this asshole's chicken.
[...the sign he was staring at, of course, is a fairly common sight in uptown New Orleans. Along with a cartoony picture of an anthropomorphic tidal wave in fisticuffs position is a simple message in text colored in by a greenish blue rush of current... "GO WAVE!"]
--------------------------------------
[Scene: bedroom of the Unstable Elements, continued. Slightly shaking her head in wonder, Nightmare soaks in the details of Polar's story. Making connections himself, Polar finds himself drifting into a thought.]
Phantasm: Green Wave. Huh. Jared Holmes went to Tulane...
Nightmare: Lots of people have gone to Tulane, Cam.
Phantasm: I know. Just... some coincidences never quite feel like coincidences. Either way, it's got me wondering- how would a 'Beach Krew' be on the wane during a post-Wave world? They're... they've gotta be-
Nightmare: Sleeping beast. Up to something.
Phantasm: Yes and yes- exactly. Beaver's stepping up, Moor's come back to the living... fuck. Last thing we need on top of Sanchez, a crumbling Chicago and Omega being temporarily assigned to fucking space is high tide coming in on us.
[Nightmare sits on the bed, trying to assume Polar's usual role of looking at things analytically.]
Nightmare: Forget the future; stick with the present. Moor and Beaver, right? You already know Beaver, front and back- guy doesn't strike me as a technical dynamo. He doesn't have anything you haven't already seen, right? So what about Moor?
Phantasm: Beaver's not exactly the riddle of the fuckin' sphinx, for sure; he's no jobber, but he's not exactly a heavy hitter either. He's like the New York Jets of wrestlers. Moor, though... guy's a beast. It may take both Bonnie and I to put Moor down when it comes time to drop the hammer, and that makes Beaver a bit of lagniappe nobody wants on the side. Plus, who the fuck knows what else happens- fuckin' Hacksaw Jim Thuggin shows up, shoots Bonnie and I with blowgun darts and pulls our hearts out like Mola Ram in Temple of Doom before the match for all I know.
[The door opens; Bonnie Blue enters, hair a bit damp. She's dressed and ready for an international adventure... the Bankstons not so much.]
Nightmare: Hey, Bonnie- we were just talking about Moor and Beaver.
Bonnie: Oh, joy- Beach Krew. My favorites. What do y'all make of that lot?
Nightmare: ...disorganized pack of thugs who rose to prominence on a wave of frat-boy rape culture.
Phantasm: ...two parts nWo, one part community college hacky-sack team.
Bonnie: True and true... but thing is, they're still a sickness upon the wrestling business. Hardly the plague they once were, but... still, bears mentioning... anytime you think they're gone, they come out of remission like cancer soon as you blink.
Phantasm: Bonnie, I know this is a shitpile of fuck, but we'll get through it somehow... and we'll keep these belts. We're the Guardians; we do this teamwork thing every day of our lives. This isn't a frat boy reunion for a street fight; it's a frat boy reunion for the UCI Tag Team Championship. They've got no idea what they're up against.
Nightmare: Fuckin' a.
Bonnie: Yeah, well... my fear's that we don't have any idea what we're up against yet either.
Phantasm: Then we'll be ready for that. Come on; you know my playbook's barely been cracked yet. You about ready for this London swing?
Nightmare: Yeah, I can't believe we get to hang out with our Ambassador to the UN of supes...!
[The Bankstons chuckle a bit, though Bonnie is not amused.]
Bonnie: You two finished yet? Get dressed and come on- we're gonna be late.
[Polar laughs as he stands, stretching a bit.]
Phantasm: Not me! ARCTIC goes faster than a motherfucker.
Nightmare: Ugh- not this again.
Bonnie: Look, you get there whenever the hell you want, ok? I have to be there on time because I'm the one representing our whole freaking country, ok? ...whatever, I'll be waiting in the hangar.
[Bonnie stamps off; both Bankstons seem confused.]
Nightmare: Something's weird with her lately.
Phantasm: ...at least one something, for sure. Maybe a few somethings.
Nightmare: Think it's this Hampshire fella?
Phantasm: I... heh. I kinda hope so, honestly. "Likes a boy" is pretty far from worst-case scenario when it comes to "reasons your tag partner got all weirdsies".
------------------------------------
"You know... I really can't get over the beauty of it all. The beauty that is... surf saxophone." -Les Claypool, Hendershot
"'Do you think taxpayers would like it, Utah, if they knew that they were paying a federal agent to surf and pick up girls?'
'Babes.'
'I beg your pardon..?'
'The correct term is babes, sir.'" - Point Break
Born in the future, destined for glory in the past; her entire culture was wiped from existence in the blink of an eye. As a founding member of the Guardians, and with the aid of a wisecracking humanoid cat and a cybernetic Hank Brown, she uses her time traveling Ranchero to help defend the Metaverse and the UCI, the importance of which is as yet unknown. Time waits for no man, but it obeys one woman... THE DAUGHTER OF TIME, BONNIE BLUE!
Introduced to one another in a deathmatch, they became a team both in combat and in life. He, the Polar Phantasm, calculating yet comedic, intense yet irreverent... she, Nightmare, virtuous yet violent, belligerent yet beautiful. Together they work to defend this universe as strategist and infiltrationist (respectively) of the Guardians... they are THE UNSTABLE ELEMENTS!
Amongst the denizens of the underworld - and I'm not talking the 'criminal' underworld - he's public enemy number one. He's a rogue demonologist, practitioner of the mystical arts and generally an all-around ok guy once you get to know him; that all said, few and far between are those keen to stick around the seemingly cursed young man from East London. Personal and professional hangups aside, he has made great strides on behalf of the people of Earth as the founder (and Speaker) of the Renaissance Men, Earth's first global multinational metahuman peacekeeping organization! Say what you will about him, you've at least got to admit he's got his own... unique style. Yeah, that's a good way to put it... it's as good a description as any of the man they call "JACK OF SHADOWS"... JACK HAMPSHIRE!
[It's a big strange world, especially since the Wave. Now both aware of the existence of an international metahuman peacekeeping effort (the Renaissance Men) and represented in their number (by Bonnie Blue, America's representative amongst the rabble), the Guardians find themselves with some allies in their fight to preserve order. But it's not all sunny days for the Guardians, by any means... specifically, UCI Tag Team Champions Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm have an overcast afternoon ahead of them. Mere days before Overload and their matchup with Dustin Beaver and Wade Moor, the Guardians will get perhaps a bit of a taste of things to come...]
[...after all, far as this team is concerned... even a day at the beach is no day at the beach. Keep your eyes on the circling skies, Guardians... be on your guard, and... for some reason, something tells me y'all should be on the lookout for... seagulls?]
United Championship Infinite presents... Guardians: A Flock of Beachkrew, Part Two of Two:
----------------------------------------------------------
POLAR PHANTASM #14: "Wave Age Love Song"
----------------------------------------------------------
[Scene: Pembrokeshire, Wales; more specifically, the beach at Barafundle Bay. Our heroes (Bonnie Blue, Nightmare, Jack of Shadows and the Polar Phantasm) arrive at the scene just in time to see absolute fucking anarchy reigning supreme. A number of smaller (5' or so) demons run toward beachgoers trying to scamper for their lives... two larger demons (about the same size as our heroes, anyhow) ready themselves for battle and give an evil hiss toward the Guardians (and their ally from the Renaissance Men). A very large (at least a hundred pounds in weight and a foot in height over the largest of the four, if an ounce or an inch) demon turns to the four, giving a loathsome roar.]
Phantasm: Jack, what's the play?
Hampshire: What do you mean, "what's the play"? I don't exactly carry a crib sheet for this sort of thing, you know? It's not ABC or anything.
Bonnie: You got any inklin' of what we're up against here, Jack?
[He reaches into a coat pocket, producing a pocket-sized book; he flips through a bit, stopping on a page.]
Hampshire: Sand demons. These three are the big pricks among the bunch... big fella's 'Rafe Worr', other two are 'Autumn Aquissarius' and 'Drixin Veezit'. They're beach rats; the worst kind.
[Bonnie and Polar look at one another in resignation.]
Bonnie: Size of the Jam we're in... we're cursed or somethin'.
Phantasm: Totally. We'd better try and clear this up before someone calls the Police.
[The demon to their left, 'Autumn', responds.]
Aquissarius: Your whole Human League... all the time, just Talk Talk.
[The demon on their right, 'Drixin', continues.]
Veezit: Just get to the Clash already... so we can make you into Missing Persons!
[The largest demon, 'Rafe', foregoes speech in favor of blowing flames at the four of them... Nightmare steps in front of her allies, cloaking herself in flames as she absorbs the blast.]
Nightmare: You surfer bros are going down today... question is, do you want to go Dead or Alive?
[She fires back- literally, as she decides to fight fire with fire- to little effect.]
Worr: Hahaha! Don't you know it's Madness trying to scorch a demon?
[...as her teammates spread out around her, Nightmare charges the large demon... and gets batted away for her trouble. The smaller demons approach as she tries to get back to vertical base...]
Veezit: Hey there, Toto-
Aquissarius: Bow Wow Wow.
Veezit: This is Europe... you're a long way from Kansas!
Nightmare: Look- Rick Astley!
[The demons turn their heads for a second; they are rewarded with a flaming flying tackle... into the bay. Nightmare flies back to find Polar trying to counter the flames with a frost jet as Bonnie and Jack flip through his book.]
Phantasm: I was a little distracted there, baby, but... did we have a Cameo, or did you just real-life Rickroll two demons?
[Before Nightmare can respond, she watches Polar overpowered by the massive demon; he is tossed to one side like an empty cardboard box, landing roughly in the sand as if he were so many golf balls.]
Bonnie: Polar!
Hampshire: Christ, mate, you practically flew to Berlin. You still with us?
[Groggily, Polar responds.]
Phantasm: Yes. Not sure if good thing or bad thing.
[The demon roars as he prepares to charge them.]
Nightmare: Shit, this guy makes an Art of Noise...
Bonnie: ...Big Audio Dynamite, for sure. Crystal, behind you!
[Nightmare turns, mid-air, to see her two lesser demon friends approaching... they mimic her flame-job, though only on their head and arms.]
Veezit: Hey, Blondie- pipe down, yeah?
Aquissarius: Right, what he said- Men at Work here!
[They leap at Nightmare, grabbing her each by a leg... she attempts to fly away, but they tug harder and harder.]
Bonnie: Who you callin' Blondie, Circle Jerks?
[Polar sees the spot Nightmare's in, frantically climbing to his feet to rescue his wife... he looks to his right to see Rafe Worr, massive sand demon, charging at him like a Peterbilt. He draws his twin cryopistols, aiming at the juggernaut; suddenly, the impending freight train slows as if on 'instant replay'. Polar realizes suddenly that Bonnie - who he assumes is responsible for this, as it's kind of her thing - has likely saved his life.]
Phantasm: Judas Priest that was close! Thanks, partner-
Nightmare: Cam- do something!
Bonnie: You'd better handle that; I think we've got this.
[Jack studies the page one last time, somewhat nervously; we see that Bonnie has etched a bit of a summoner's circle in the sand around the Jack of Shadows.]
Phantasm: Good luck, we're all counting on you.
[Jack looks to Bonnie, amusement on his face.]
Hampshire: Sorry, but... did he just Airplane! us?
[The Phantasm fires four shots; he clips the demons' arms, causing them to release his bride... the shots cause their flames to go out, as their arms and the top of their heads are covered in an icy residue... then become like ice themselves.]
Phantasm: Enjoy the Cold, you beach-bum bitches.
[The demons begin to shatter as they crumble into piles of crushed ice.]
Nightmare: Talk about Erasure, huh?
Phantasm: Eh, that was a reach... but I'll take it.
[They glance over to see Bonnie doing her best to slow Rafe Worr as Jack is amidst his incantation... she is mildly successful, though right as Jack finishes his phrase he gets tossed to one side by the barreling beach blob.]
Bonnie: Jack-
Hampshire: I'm fine; keep a lock on him!
Bonnie: -can't hold onto him long-
[She herself gets tossed; now free of his slow-time prison, the demon roars once more and blows flame into the air in triumph.]
Nightmare: Hey, Cock Sparrer... remember us?
Phantasm: Maybe he thinks we're a Minor Threat, Crys.
Nightmare: Sad, but too often the case with Simple Minds.
Worr: Iceman, Firewoman- your kind is a disease, and I will give you the Cure!
[His roar knocks them back... and Nightmare clear out of the sky.]
Nightmare: Oingo Boingo!
Phantasm: Yeah, my thoughts exactly. We need a plan... gotta go at this with a New Order, you know?
Bonnie: Cam!
[He detects the voice of his tag partner from the other side of their opponent... and responds in kind.]
Phantasm: Bonnie!
Bonnie: Saturn or Kronus?
[Polar and Nightmare exchange glances.]
Nightmare: Gods, or...
Phantasm: ...Eliminators. Bonnie- it's a Saturn day, for sure!
Hampshire: Crystal- give me a hand with this!
[The Elements make a run for it; Worr clutches at the Phantasm, who slides on an ice slick just beneath the giant's grasp and spins himself a round. Polar, in position, awaits his partner... slowing time just a bit, Bonnie flies in as if Trinity in the god-damn Matrix with a massive spinning heel kick. As she closes in on contact, Polar goes for a roundhouse leg sweep; as they connect, Bonnie releases her grip on the flow of time. In what seems like milliseconds, the massive beastly demon makes impact with the sand, actually shaking the grainy fluid-earth that makes up the 'ground'. Polar and Bonnie look over to see the Jack of Shadows, surrounded by a circle of flame, forcefully damn his quarry to beach-demon hell with a few short phrases in a language none of them can quite place. The creature is swallowed by the sands, a belch of fire accompanying its exit... and the sands covering up its escape. The four regroup, dusting (sanding?) themselves off.]
Bonnie: Jack, we're sorry this happened- and for this... mess.
[They look around at the carnage; mild, by Guardians battle standards, but still fairly epic.]
Hampshire: Eh, it's just Wales. It's not like we're in Bournemouth or something.
Phantasm: Not bad for a Foreigner, right?
Hampshire: Not bad for anyone, mate- even Yanks.
Bonnie: Please don't call me that- it just doesn't sit well with me.
[He puts his hands up a bit.]
Hampshire: Duly noted; apologies, all around. Right then, back to London- Terranaut, party of four.
[...with that, a portal opens before them; they step through, the Elements expressing some confusion.]
Phantasm: Still don't get how that works... but I kinda like it. We need a Terranaut.
Nightmare: If he figures out Alex makes his own liquor, we just might get one.
[On the other side of the portal... we have returned to Renaissance Men HQ, notably less glamorous or technologically advanced than Guardians HQ but with a lot more rustic old-world charm. Bonnie, already starting to know her way around the place, follows Jack toward the main chamber; the Elements struggle to keep up, still in awe of the place.]
Nightmare: Why can't we get a kickass ancient building for headquarters?
Phantasm: Because America's not even 300 years old yet, dear.
Hampshire: So what do you Yyy- chaps like to do for fun after a scuffle with the underworld?
Phantasm: Eh... as you said in Chicago, "When in Rome..."
Hampshire: Well, then... karaoke night at the pub it is.
Bonnie: Oooh... that gives me an idea.
Nightmare: Oh man, me too- let's do it, Cam.
Phantasm: I'm with you guys... bring on the karaoke.
(* - 80s Band Name Drop Counter: 33. Somebody call Guinness- if that's not record for number of 80s bands mentioned in one single narrative scene in a short story written for an online roleplay wrestling federation, I'll Buggles myself. -B.)
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[Scene: East London, England, UK; more specifically, the Nag's Head Pub. This quaint neighborhood establishment, classical by pub standards, is in no way prepared for Crystal Bankston's karaoke interpretation of Midnight Oil's "Beds are Burning"... but they're getting it, either way. She stands on a small stage in one corner of the establishment next to a pair of dartboards, blasting the microphone (and, in turn, her audience) with nigh-furious emotion.]
Nightmare (singing): The time has come! To say fair's fair- to pay the rent, Lord, to pay our share! The time has come! A fact's a fact! It belongs to them! Let's GIVE IT BACK-
[She gestures exuberantly with the guitar riff. At a nearby table, Jack looks to Polar, giving a bit of a laugh at his new friends' wife's behavior.]
Phantasm: Yeah, Crystal's...
Bonnie: ...a bit of an acquired taste.
Phantasm: Let's go with that. That's a fair estimate.
Hampshire: How'd the ice guy and the fire gal get together, anyway?
Bonnie: They weren't always ice guy and fire gal, for one thing-
Phantasm: -true... though she and I always have been fire and ice*.
(* - In case you're wondering just how they did get together... hell, it's a story worth telling again. Last time it was told was back in the pre-Wave days - 2012's Kid Phantasm #7, "The Ballad of Fire and Ice". I wonder how different that story sounds on this side of the Wave... or when I'll feel like telling it again. Heh. -B.)
Hampshire: So how do you keep it together, then?
Phantasm: You ever get that feeling like nobody will ever accept you for your weird and love you for that shit?
Hampshire: Well, of course, mate... wager everyone does, even most married folk.
[Bonnie laughs.]
Phantasm: That woman puts up with all of my shit because I put up with hers; even on days we can't fucking stand each other, it still works. Add to that the fact that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and we've made this wonderful child we love so much-
Bonnie: Jeffy says hi, by the way.
Phantasm: -oh, very funny.
[They're jarred from their conversation by three things... polite applause at the end of Nightmare's song (strained as it is), Nightmare joining them with a huge smile on her face... and Bonnie's name appearing on screen as next up to perform.]
Nightmare: Oh my god I needed that so bad...
Hampshire: Midnight Oil... interesting choice.
Phantasm: Interesting lady.
Hampshire: I'll say. Speaking of which-
Bonnie: Yeah, I had this idea to sign up... 'cause of earlier, when... fuck it, I just gotta do this.
[Somewhat surprisingly, Bonnie looks back to them as she heads toward the stage...]
Bonnie: How do I look?
Phantasm (as 1970s Billy Crystal): You look mahvelous.
[On screen, the words "BLONDIE - ATOMIC" appear... Polar begins applauding before the music even begins.]
Phantasm: Fuck yeah, Blondie. Man, what's up with today? It's been 80s as hell all afternoon.
Hampshire: Some days are more retro than others, mate. Just go with it.
Nightmare: I like that. Just go with it, Cam.
[He sighs.]
Phantasm: Alright... fuck it. Y'all pushed me into it.
[He heads to the small DJ station, whispering to the DJ... as "Atomic" by Blondie comes through the speakers, the DJ nods to Polar in response to his inquiry. Bonnie visibly exhales and prepares herself. At the table, Nightmare looks to Jack... his eyes, though, are on stage. As Nightmare looks, she sees that upon that stage her teammate has her eyes firmly locked on the man to her right as if returning fire.]
Bonnie (singing): Uh huh, make me tonight... to-niiiiight, make it riiiiight...
[Polar approaches, sitting beside his wife... they view the scene before them, then look knowingly at one another.]
Nightmare (whispered): Likes a boy.
Phantasm (whispered): Worse things could make your partner all weirdsies.
Bonnie (singing): Ohhhhh, your hair is beautiful... ohhhhh, toniiiiight...
[Her voice drops an octave; her face takes on an almost... flirty? sort of look.]
Bonnie (singing): ...atomic!
Nightmare (whispered): Their kids would be adorable-
Phantasm (whispered): Crystal, don't even fantasize my tag partner pregnant; at least the last time that happened I could blame myself!
[She elbows him in the ribs; he doubles over a bit. Jack, suddenly distracted, turns to the Bankstons with concern.]
Hampshire: You alright, mate? Kidneys hurting or something?
Nightmare: Eh, I just had to sock him one. Cam, what'd you sign up for?
Hampshire: Hey, yeah- you're up next, then?
Phantasm: Yeah, I'm on deck... little something I've had rattling around my head, gonna see if I can iron it out.
[On stage, Bonnie begins wrapping up the 80s 'surf rock' classic...]
Bonnie (singing): Toniiiiiight... make it magnificent... toniiiight, make me toniiiiiight, toniiiiiiiiight...
Nightmare: Not to be out of line here-
Phantasm: -oh god, buckle up.
Nightmare: -and I'm no attorney... certainly not in this country... but I'm pretty sure where you're concerned, friend... that karaoke performance would count as consent.
Phantasm: Fuck, Crystal-
[As terrible a joke as it is, none of them can help laughing.]
Hampshire: Oh fuck, that's rich...
Phantasm: Four years together and I still have no idea just how sick this particular puppy is, Jack.
Nightmare: And you never will with that attitude.
[She gives her husband a teasing wink.]
Nightmare: You're up to bat, slugger.
Hampshire: Break a leg, mate!
[Bonnie joins them, seeming a bit more reserved than she did moments ago... with a bit of a giggle, she 'tags' her partner 'in'.]
Bonnie: Did I sound alright?
Hampshire: I think you outdid ol' Debbie Harry herself, luv.
Nightmare: About the only vote that matters, I think-
Bonnie: Oh, Crystal- seriously, how did I do?
Nightmare: You killed it, sister. Now, the real question... what's Cam gonna do?
[On screen, the words "R.E.M. - IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (AND I FEEL FINE)" appear; they all glance at one another with questioning looks.]
Bonnie: Oooh, a tough choice- this one could go sideways on you fast.
Nightmare: He said he'd been working on something... this one could go sideways on him really fast!
Hampshire: No offense, Crystal, but your husband's a bit of a maniac.
Nightmare: Oh, god... I know. I totally know.
Bonnie: It, uh... works for them.
Nightmare: I'm a little drunk, so I'll admit this- just watching him plot shit makes me wet.
Bonnie: Wow.
Hampshire: Bit too much information, perhaps... but good to know, if it ever comes up.
[Both ladies laugh. The music starts... and with it, Cameron Bankston addresses reality itself.]
Phantasm (singing): This place, it started when we got Waved... Crows and Dunes and outer space... and Jeff Purse is still afraid...
Bonnie: Stars and bars...
Nightmare: ...go Cam!
Phantasm (singing): Overdose of dick pic, make us all grow sick, world serves a true need, listen to the beast feed... get yourself a one, two, three, no, three as the ladder starts to topple and there's no belt, where, belt... Wave is a rave, all the freaks are coming out, and the government is Sanch and the Sanch is bugged out, uh... Syndicate is everywhere, I feel too many Frankies breathing DOWN- MY- NECK...
Hampshire: Fuck off- look at this guy!
Phantasm (singing): ...week by week opponents baffled, tapped, stretched pinned... look at shiny gold belts! Fine, well... Uh-oh, Beach Krew, population, stable group... but it'll do, competition; better save yourself!
Bonnie: Yeah you right, partner.
[Crystal laughs.]
Phantasm (singing): World serves a great need, Guardians the heartbeat... who else has been flowing deep since jump, street... may I mention, representing, tag fight, champs might... be feeling pretty psyched.
[He gives Bonnie an over-the-top wink. She laughs.]
Bonnie: Go Polar! Woo!
Phantasm (singing): It's the end of the world as we know it- come on, y'all sing! It's the end of the world as we know it... it's the end of the world as we know it-
[He holds out the microphone; the entire population of the pub, as confused as they may be by Polar's interpretation of REM's classic, respond in chorus.]
Patrons (singing): -and I feel fine!
Phantasm (singing): Nine o' clock, Overload, shoot promo gets old... talk shit, stroke dick, listen to yourselves spit... open mouth, bullshit, more shit, looped shit... every promo cookie cutter, every time? Just quit... Light a candle, light a joint, shut the fuck up, make a point... watch your ego swell swell swell uh-oh... No fear, nothing but commitment and desire... in a tournament, a tournament, a tournament of liars! Even at its worst, UCI is still better than that time- you know what time.
Bonnie: He's right about that...
Nightmare: I'm still not altogether clear on the- you know what, fuck it. Just pretend I get what he's singing about.
Hampshire: With you there, luv.
Phantasm (singing): It's the end of the world as we know it- two more times, end of the world as we know it- one more... the end of the world as we know it-
Patrons (singing): And I feel fine!
[With that, Jack makes a sudden decision... he dashes for the stage, jumping in as backing vocals.]
Phantasm (singing): It's the-
Hampshire (singing): -time I had some time alone...
[Nightmare turns to Bonnie, seeing the big smile on her face...]
Nightmare: So I guess it's safe to say we double date well.
[Bonnie just gives her a sarcastic smirk.]
Bonnie: Who said this was a date?
[And, with that... we leave the three Guardians and the Speaker of the Renaissance Men to enjoy their night out in London. That said... it feels weird closing a Guardians story that didn't have Alex Richards in it. I wonder what he's up to right now?]
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[Scene: a restroom. Alex Richards sits on a toilet, pants around his ankles, reading a copy of 'FANGORIA' magazine. He glances up, noticing he's not alone...]
Richards: You did this to yourselves, people- never trust a narrator.
--------------------------------------------
A FLOCK OF BEACHKREW
Series conceived by Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm
Episode II: Wave Age Love Song
Episode written by the Polar Phantasm
'The Guardians' created by Bonnie Blue, Jay Omega and the Polar Phantasm
(Come home soon, Spaceman.)
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. All rights reserved.]
