Hope for a Brighter Future (4/4)
Jun 29, 2016 13:56:33 GMT -6
Crow McMorris, Bonnie Blue, and 4 more like this
Post by The Polar Phantasm on Jun 29, 2016 13:56:33 GMT -6
[Scene: Wicker Park, Chicago; more specifically, the Sloshed Pit. Alex Richards, Nightmare and the Polar Phantasm sit at a table off in one corner of the bar; Nightmare holds Jeffrey Bankston, the youngest member of the entourage, close to her as she continuously scans the scene for trouble. Alex chugs the remainder of his beverage as the Phantasm looks at his cellphone angrily. Seeing his friend troubled, Alex offers his now-empty beverage; he looks at the drinking vessel (...ok, it's a boot; life at the Sloshed Pit is a bit warped, as you might imagine), making a sad face as he turns it upside down.]
Richards: Sorry, man; crick ran dry. You want I should grab us a couple drinks? I know that look- that's that look that says you're about to smash a phone, and that's not a decision you should be making sober. Just feels wrong.
Nightmare: Know what feels wrong?
Phantasm: Can't get Frank on the phone.
Nightmare: ...I was gonna say having a three year old in a bar, but... that is pretty unusual. What's his tracker say?
Phantasm: Tracker says he's in Humboldt Park, but I don't like just popping up on the guy...
Richards: Wait, tracker? You put a tracker... on Frank Venable?
Nightmare: Yep.
Richards: Might I ask why?
Phantasm: So I don't lose him.
Richards: Ah. Well, then. Perfectly sensible reason to track another human being; no harm, no foul. Does he know you're tracking him?
Nightmare: Doubtful.
Phantasm: Eh, I think I told him back in the day- whatever, it's not important.
Richards: Seems kinda important; but what do I know? Most of last week I used a kid's jump rope as a belt.
[Alex sighs.]
Richards: Sorry, little Cindy.
Phantasm: I give up- I'm going to find him. If the data's correct, he's practically on top of the target... it's got me worried.
Nightmare: Sure. Just leave me and Alex here with-
Richards: I'm good to drive- we'll take the Strange Rover, it makes great time in the city. You ever drive over a Mini? Fun shit.
[Polar and Alex head out, leaving Nighty with her son and one... uh, truly character-building child-rearing environment. She sighs, putting Jeffy down and taking his hand. Mom and son walk toward the bar; a (questionably) young green-haired girl obviously in her cups attempts to pinch the youngest Bankston's cheek and flinches as Nightmare's arm goes back for a home-run bitchslap.]
Nightmare: Back the fuck up, jailbait- I barely need an excuse today!
Green-haired Skank: Whatever, jeez- your kid's cute, that's all.
Nightmare: You're goddamn right that's all.
[Crystal steps up to the bar; the bartender, as well as all of the patrons nearby, are quite sure now that yes, the woman babysitting in the Sloshed Pit is the craziest person in the room.]
Nightmare: Gimme a margarita and a juice box. Stat.
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"They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
faces of women and children I have seen the marks
of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning." - Carl Sandburg, Chicago
"There's one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it's one word long— PEOPLE. No matter how big the idea they all stand under, people are small and weak and cheap and frightened. It's people that kill every revolution." - Transmetropolitan, Vol. 1: Back On The Street
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!
Offbeat. Outlandish. Bizarre. These are just some of the words used to describe him, though they barely scratch the surface. The surreal is commonplace in his world, and random chance seems to be either his best friend or his guardian angel. Mimsy were the borogroves, and flubbity-wub-wub, flubbity-flubba-wub. What you see as gibberish makes perfect sense to... THE ARCHDUKE OF MASS CONFUSION, ALEX RICHARDS!
Some would call him unconventional. Some would say eccentric. Still others would prefer the term insane. But one word they would all agree on is dangerous. How else would you describe a man who claims to have traveled through time, across dimensions, fought literal gods, and lived to tell the tale? Such may sound like utter nonsense, but that's just another day in the absurd life of future UCI World Champion, and founding Guardians member... THE OMEGA MAN, JAY OMEGA!
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!
[Chicago, Illinois; home base of United Championship Infinite, underground fight-league (suddenly become both legal and fashionable) employing our heroes the Guardians... and, some might say, one of the great cities of the world. Guardian Alex Richards loves his town; the other Guardians seem to be learning to at least enjoy the place, rough around the edges as it may be... ah hell, let's face it. It's rotten outside and in. Street gangs vie for territory in all-out asymmetrical warfare, night or broad daylight... areas that were quiet not even ten years ago are becoming shooting galleries as whole neighborhoods in some cases (as in the case of Garfield Park) are demolished and replaced with shining promises of a future their former residents are not meant to be a part of, leaving elements criminal and otherwise to filter through the city and take root where it can.]
[To his credit, Mayor David Sanchez has done a great job of restoring order to parts of a city now known worldwide as 'Chi-raq'; that said, his methods of holding order have raised more than a few eyebrows... among those few privy to such a sight, anyhow. Even then, though, his hench-ployees' actions may be getting lost in the shuffle; reports of rampant vigilantism throughout the city have brought the Guardians to Chicago in search of the source (sources?) of all the madness, as we've previously seen*. Still, though, as the Phantasm and Alex Richards search for their 'target', his mind wanders to thoughts of Hope Valley... and just what it is they're doing over there that needs such a shiny, promising distraction to lead eyes away from it. Perhaps that's why Polar never put two and two together when he noticed his 'target' and his old friend Frank have been on top of each other for the last two hours. Polar Phantasm: Dumbest Genius Ever. Ah well- maybe one of these days he'll learn. I, for one, have...]
(* - Alex Richards' "Wicker Park, Next Three Exits", a guest star's "Big Trouble in Little China" and Jay Omega's "Low on the West Side", parts one through three of this escapade... -B.)
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POLAR PHANTASM #8: "Hope for a Brighter Future"
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[Scene: Humboldt Park, Chicago; more specifically, rolling down a divided residential street in the Strange Rover. Alex looks around, seemingly staring at everything and nothing at once... Polar checks his wrist computer, which makes a little beeping noise.]
Phantasm: I put trackers on the whole team, back in the Cryogenix days... take a right up here, man.
[Alex cuts a sharp right, clipping a trashcan and crushing a hotdog cart.]
Richards: How's that working out, anyway?
Phantasm: Eh, spotty at best. Not sure if they're working anymore, actually... I mean, Purse in Pennsylvania makes sense, and Price in Mexico makes sense too if you've read the wire reports. Frank in Chicago makes sense, but... Corey? And the readings on Orbit are all over the place. He's either in Oakland or Iceland, I'm not sure which. Or either, actually.
[Alex flips off a school bus. I wish I could give a reason for this, but- does one really need a reason to flip off a school bus?]
Richards: You didn't put trackers on us, did you?
[Polar stares at Alex in confusion.]
Phantasm: Seriously? Come on, man.
[Alex shrugs.]
Phantasm: Of course I did. Remember when we lost Jay on Aja Darrik?
Richards: Yeah, but he found us...
Phantasm: Right... at some pretty long odds. I mean, what are the chances he crashes without getting killed on an alien planet, gets picked up by the good guys and just happens to find us and get us back to the others in time to save them from being overwhelmed by the bad guys?
Richards: Eleventeen. Seventy-tuna. Gazorpafour.
Phantasm: Damn straight. The numbers don't make any sense, man.
[Polar notices a large population of bearded and/or mustachioed douchebags in the neighborhood, most with vaguely attractive douchebaguettes* dressed like 90s trailer trash on their arms. He turns to Alex with confusion.]
(* - I couldn't help myself; I totally know that isn't a word. But damn if we shouldn't start using it anyway. -B.)
Phantasm: What's going on with this neighborhood? Seems like low/mid income family suburban stuff for the most part, but I'm seeing a ton of hipsters around here...
Richards: Yeah, I fucking hate it, man. This neighborhood's got it worse than I do over in Wicker Park; over there the hipsters moved in and just turned into wasted chumps like everybody else. Problem solved, you know? Over here, though, you got the gangs... in this 'hood you're seeing gentrification run afoul of turf war.
Phantasm: That's... wow. 'What Starbucks you claimin', dogg?' Wow. I almost want that to happen.
Richards: Everything changed in the last year... Garfield Park getting torn down and built back up as Hope Valley displaced a lot of people.
Phantasm: And shit got weird all over.
[Alex nods with a big smile.]
Richards: Shit got weird all over. Yes sir. Gotta love this town-
Phantasm: Oh, I feel you there- it ain't perfect, but it's home. Place I come from's a lot like that... been so broken for so long that everybody just kinda likes it like that, you know?
Richards: Where are you from again, man? Sorry, I- you probably told me and I-
Phantasm: New Orleans.
Richards: Oh, shit. Yeah, you definitely know weird, then- every couple years your town has to swim.
Phantasm: Eh, we mostly just refuse to sink. Let me ask you something, man- what do you think is up with people suddenly manifesting powers? Something in the water in this town, or what?
[Alex looks to Polar with genuine confusion.]
Richards: Dude, I don't think I've drank a glass of tap water in twenty five years. How the hell would I know? For all I know it's aliens controlling our minds or something ridiculous like that. Hey, are you any good at making hats out of tin foil? 'Cause-
Phantasm: Wait, go back- back and right!
[Alex flips the 'Rover around in a big circle, causing traffic to flip around the vehicle all over the place. An Illinois State Trooper flies into the side of a tractor-trailer, impaling it.]
Richards: Sweet! First Chicago series and we've already had one obvious Blues Brothers homage- I think we're doing well so far. How about you, Polar?
[Polar somehow missed this entire exchange (and, as The Blues Brothers is one of his favorite films of all time, would totally be pissed to know he missed it) as he was lost in his wrist computers' screen, his interest in their target too intense.]
Phantasm: Up there- that big parking lot, what is that?
Richards: Looks like a strip mall to me, man. You wanna hit Bed, Bath and Beyond? Get your old lady a flame design shower curtain or somethin'? She'd love that.
Phantasm: That's... a really good idea, actually, and we should totally do that. But after we find the target- it's reading at about 250 yards out and closing fast, so we must be on 'em. Find a spot to park this thing and let's do some recon.
[Alex parks the Strange Rover in roughly seven spaces marked 'COMPACT'.]
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[Scene: Humboldt Park, Chicago; more specifically, a strip mall arcade. Alex Richards approaches Frank Venable, who is in the middle of a dead fucking serious game of Killer Instinct with a teenager; before he taps FPV on the shoulder, Alex ponders the action for a moment as if weighing his other options. He then taps Frank on the shoulder, causing him to turn around and jump at the sight of Alex Richards behind him.]
Arcade Cabinet: Cuh-cuh-cuh-COMBO BREAKER!
FPV: What the- fuck, Alex man, look at what you did!
[On screen, we watch as a woman with huge bouncy polygon boobs and pseudo-lightsabers delivers combo after combo to a skeleton with a scimitar and a wooden shield.]
Richards: Wow, it just keeps going, doesn't it?
Arcade Cabinet: ULLLTRRAAAAAAA
Teenager: Ha! You just got your ass whooped by Orchid!
FPV: Hey, you got DQ'ed 'cause Richards did a run-in with his spooky ass face. That's totally a foreign object! And you only play Orchid because you like to perv on her weird pointy boobs; Spinal's the coolest and you know it. Say it!
Teenager: Dream on, loser!
[Frank stares this punk kid down like they're about to duel, pistols at dawn...]
FPV: Say it or I'll superkick you to Addison Street.
Teenager: You wouldn't-
Richards: Trust me, kid; one time this guy superkicked a motorcycle over the grand canyon!
[Frank, impressed, turns to Alex Richards.]
FPV: You heard about that? It wasn't even on YouTube or anything.
[They turn back to see the teenager has fled. Meanwhile, across the arcade...]
FPV: That's how the game's played, Jimmy- if you don't get high score, you have to give me two quarters. I don't make the laws of Pac-Man, I just enforce them.
Phantasm: Frank!
[Frank waves off a handful of kids, stashing a sign reading "PAC-MAN - CASH PRIZES AVAILABLE".]
FPV: Polar! What are you doing here? I thought you were, you know, like... in space or something.
Phantasm: We were! It was awesome. I brought you some sand; it's kinda bluish and probably full of alien diseases, but it looks cool. Oh hey, Frank- while we're talking... why are you registering as a superhuman?
[To double-check himself, Polar glimpses back at his wrist-computer... as he looks back up, he sees Alex Richards approaching with a second Frank in tow.]
Richards: Oh, so you found Frank too! That's fun. Normally double vision isn't this convincing, you know? I've got a good buzz on today, man.
FPV: Check it out, Cam- I'm my own tag partner!
Richards: Whoa, Franks in stereo.
Phantasm: ...but which one is the real Frank Venable?
[The Franks high-five each other (themselves?) and one disappears.*]
(* - SELF HIGH FIVE! -B.)
FPV: Beats me.
Phantasm: Frank... there's just one of you now.
FPV: Yeah, but... how do I know if I'm the real one?
Richards: Whoa. That's deep, man.
[Polar facepalms. Just then, his wrist-computer echoes out the voice of Bonnie Blue...]
Bonnie: I've found the target, y'all-
[At this, Polar and Alex look at one another, then at the remaining Frank.]
Phantasm: Uh, no... I've found the target.
[As he says this, Cameron Bankston can hear his teammate Jay Omega's voice echoing back at him saying the exact same thing.]
Richards: Curiouser and curioser.
Omega: I'm heading back to base to figure this all out- meet back there?
Phantasm: Roger, just want to make a quick detour and scout out some of Hope Valley. Back at the Pit in a few; Phantasm out.
[Looking up from his wrist-computer, Polar asks a vague and tempting question of his friends.]
Phantasm: You guys wanna go scope out Sanchez' backyard?
[Frank jingles his pocket, shrugging.]
FPV: Yeah, I think I can call it a day.
Richards: And I'm the designated driver!
[Alex pulls a flask from his pocket, his keys attached to it by a brass link.]
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[Scene: Hope Valley, Chicago; more specifically, a newly-minted thoroughfare over what was once Garfield Park. The Strange Rover pulls off the road and into a massive construction site roughly three city blocks wide. It's after dark, so the site is almost completely empty; save, of course, for our heroes... as far as we can tell, anyhow. The boys exit the Rover and take a cursive glance around them... their conversation seems to follow them from their ride into their new environment.]
FPV: It just kinda works, you know? I want to be in two places, I'm in two places.
Richards: I'm still kinda spotty on how mine work, too. See?
[Alex disappears.]
Richards: Now I'm invisible.
FPV: And your voice changed...? That's weird as hell, man.
Phantasm: What else were you expecting?
FPV: Cam- did you just make that rat an icicle?
Phantasm: Yep.
FPV: That's cool as shit! You really are the Polar Phantasm now!
[Alex reappears.]
Richards: What do you think caused all this, Frank?
FPV: I don't know... but I know it's pretty fuckin' awesome.
[There is a squelch of a speaker; from the shadows, a voice echoes.]
Syndicate: You are tresspassing on Syndicate property. You will exit Hope Valley; you have thirty seconds to comply.
[Polar looks to his friends; their surprised reactions turn to conviction.]
Richards: Nobody tells me to get outta my town.
FPV: I wonder what it is they're hiding out here...
Phantasm: ...that's what I'm thinkin' too, Frank. Alright, team- get ready for incoming.
[From the shadows, half a dozen Syndicate members approach... a moment later, a phone begins ringing. Polar checks his pocket; it is he receiving an incoming call, number registering as an unknown. The Syndicate soldiers do not raise their arms; Polar sighs and answers his cellphone.]
Phantasm: Hello?
[From the other end of the phone, a somewhat familiar voice replies.]
Sanchez: I can see you.
Phantasm: Mayor Sanchez. To what do I owe the honor?
Sanchez: Get out of Hope Valley, Phantasm. There's no reason for you to dirty yourself with the day-to-day of rebuilding this fine city-
Phantasm: Is that what's happening here? Lot of security for a simple construction job.
Sanchez: Give that inquistive nature of yours a break, Phantasm. Not all questions are worth answering.
Phantasm: One thing you should know about me, Sanchez- I always find the answers I'm looking for.
Sanchez: Then perhaps you need incentive to stop looking? I've already had my men pay Alex Richards' rathole bar a visit- I specifically asked them to be nice about it, by the way. Of course, I could have the whole neighborhood condemned and razed...
Phantasm: Alright, Sanchez- you've made your point. Call your men off.
Sanchez: I knew you'd see things my way, Phantasm. We'll talk again sometime-
Phantasm: -yeah you right. We ain't done yet, Sanchez. Not by a long shot.
[Polar hangs up his phone, putting it back in his pocket; he waves Frank and Alex back over, heading toward the Strange Rover.]
Phantasm: I'm not sure what we've found here just yet... but it's something, alright.
[And he was right- the Phantasm and his friends had found, if nothing else, a squishy soft point in the concrete and steel empire of David Sanchez. As to when they'd know just what they'd discovered... that, my friends, would be another story.]
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WINDY CITY
Series conceived by the Polar Phantasm
Series directed by Jay Omega
Episode Four: Hope for a Brighter Future
Episode written by the
Richards: Sorry, man; crick ran dry. You want I should grab us a couple drinks? I know that look- that's that look that says you're about to smash a phone, and that's not a decision you should be making sober. Just feels wrong.
Nightmare: Know what feels wrong?
Phantasm: Can't get Frank on the phone.
Nightmare: ...I was gonna say having a three year old in a bar, but... that is pretty unusual. What's his tracker say?
Phantasm: Tracker says he's in Humboldt Park, but I don't like just popping up on the guy...
Richards: Wait, tracker? You put a tracker... on Frank Venable?
Nightmare: Yep.
Richards: Might I ask why?
Phantasm: So I don't lose him.
Richards: Ah. Well, then. Perfectly sensible reason to track another human being; no harm, no foul. Does he know you're tracking him?
Nightmare: Doubtful.
Phantasm: Eh, I think I told him back in the day- whatever, it's not important.
Richards: Seems kinda important; but what do I know? Most of last week I used a kid's jump rope as a belt.
[Alex sighs.]
Richards: Sorry, little Cindy.
Phantasm: I give up- I'm going to find him. If the data's correct, he's practically on top of the target... it's got me worried.
Nightmare: Sure. Just leave me and Alex here with-
Richards: I'm good to drive- we'll take the Strange Rover, it makes great time in the city. You ever drive over a Mini? Fun shit.
[Polar and Alex head out, leaving Nighty with her son and one... uh, truly character-building child-rearing environment. She sighs, putting Jeffy down and taking his hand. Mom and son walk toward the bar; a (questionably) young green-haired girl obviously in her cups attempts to pinch the youngest Bankston's cheek and flinches as Nightmare's arm goes back for a home-run bitchslap.]
Nightmare: Back the fuck up, jailbait- I barely need an excuse today!
Green-haired Skank: Whatever, jeez- your kid's cute, that's all.
Nightmare: You're goddamn right that's all.
[Crystal steps up to the bar; the bartender, as well as all of the patrons nearby, are quite sure now that yes, the woman babysitting in the Sloshed Pit is the craziest person in the room.]
Nightmare: Gimme a margarita and a juice box. Stat.
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"They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
faces of women and children I have seen the marks
of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning." - Carl Sandburg, Chicago
"There's one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it's one word long— PEOPLE. No matter how big the idea they all stand under, people are small and weak and cheap and frightened. It's people that kill every revolution." - Transmetropolitan, Vol. 1: Back On The Street
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!
Offbeat. Outlandish. Bizarre. These are just some of the words used to describe him, though they barely scratch the surface. The surreal is commonplace in his world, and random chance seems to be either his best friend or his guardian angel. Mimsy were the borogroves, and flubbity-wub-wub, flubbity-flubba-wub. What you see as gibberish makes perfect sense to... THE ARCHDUKE OF MASS CONFUSION, ALEX RICHARDS!
Some would call him unconventional. Some would say eccentric. Still others would prefer the term insane. But one word they would all agree on is dangerous. How else would you describe a man who claims to have traveled through time, across dimensions, fought literal gods, and lived to tell the tale? Such may sound like utter nonsense, but that's just another day in the absurd life of future UCI World Champion, and founding Guardians member... THE OMEGA MAN, JAY OMEGA!
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!
[Chicago, Illinois; home base of United Championship Infinite, underground fight-league (suddenly become both legal and fashionable) employing our heroes the Guardians... and, some might say, one of the great cities of the world. Guardian Alex Richards loves his town; the other Guardians seem to be learning to at least enjoy the place, rough around the edges as it may be... ah hell, let's face it. It's rotten outside and in. Street gangs vie for territory in all-out asymmetrical warfare, night or broad daylight... areas that were quiet not even ten years ago are becoming shooting galleries as whole neighborhoods in some cases (as in the case of Garfield Park) are demolished and replaced with shining promises of a future their former residents are not meant to be a part of, leaving elements criminal and otherwise to filter through the city and take root where it can.]
[To his credit, Mayor David Sanchez has done a great job of restoring order to parts of a city now known worldwide as 'Chi-raq'; that said, his methods of holding order have raised more than a few eyebrows... among those few privy to such a sight, anyhow. Even then, though, his hench-ployees' actions may be getting lost in the shuffle; reports of rampant vigilantism throughout the city have brought the Guardians to Chicago in search of the source (sources?) of all the madness, as we've previously seen*. Still, though, as the Phantasm and Alex Richards search for their 'target', his mind wanders to thoughts of Hope Valley... and just what it is they're doing over there that needs such a shiny, promising distraction to lead eyes away from it. Perhaps that's why Polar never put two and two together when he noticed his 'target' and his old friend Frank have been on top of each other for the last two hours. Polar Phantasm: Dumbest Genius Ever. Ah well- maybe one of these days he'll learn. I, for one, have...]
(* - Alex Richards' "Wicker Park, Next Three Exits", a guest star's "Big Trouble in Little China" and Jay Omega's "Low on the West Side", parts one through three of this escapade... -B.)
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POLAR PHANTASM #8: "Hope for a Brighter Future"
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[Scene: Humboldt Park, Chicago; more specifically, rolling down a divided residential street in the Strange Rover. Alex looks around, seemingly staring at everything and nothing at once... Polar checks his wrist computer, which makes a little beeping noise.]
Phantasm: I put trackers on the whole team, back in the Cryogenix days... take a right up here, man.
[Alex cuts a sharp right, clipping a trashcan and crushing a hotdog cart.]
Richards: How's that working out, anyway?
Phantasm: Eh, spotty at best. Not sure if they're working anymore, actually... I mean, Purse in Pennsylvania makes sense, and Price in Mexico makes sense too if you've read the wire reports. Frank in Chicago makes sense, but... Corey? And the readings on Orbit are all over the place. He's either in Oakland or Iceland, I'm not sure which. Or either, actually.
[Alex flips off a school bus. I wish I could give a reason for this, but- does one really need a reason to flip off a school bus?]
Richards: You didn't put trackers on us, did you?
[Polar stares at Alex in confusion.]
Phantasm: Seriously? Come on, man.
[Alex shrugs.]
Phantasm: Of course I did. Remember when we lost Jay on Aja Darrik?
Richards: Yeah, but he found us...
Phantasm: Right... at some pretty long odds. I mean, what are the chances he crashes without getting killed on an alien planet, gets picked up by the good guys and just happens to find us and get us back to the others in time to save them from being overwhelmed by the bad guys?
Richards: Eleventeen. Seventy-tuna. Gazorpafour.
Phantasm: Damn straight. The numbers don't make any sense, man.
[Polar notices a large population of bearded and/or mustachioed douchebags in the neighborhood, most with vaguely attractive douchebaguettes* dressed like 90s trailer trash on their arms. He turns to Alex with confusion.]
(* - I couldn't help myself; I totally know that isn't a word. But damn if we shouldn't start using it anyway. -B.)
Phantasm: What's going on with this neighborhood? Seems like low/mid income family suburban stuff for the most part, but I'm seeing a ton of hipsters around here...
Richards: Yeah, I fucking hate it, man. This neighborhood's got it worse than I do over in Wicker Park; over there the hipsters moved in and just turned into wasted chumps like everybody else. Problem solved, you know? Over here, though, you got the gangs... in this 'hood you're seeing gentrification run afoul of turf war.
Phantasm: That's... wow. 'What Starbucks you claimin', dogg?' Wow. I almost want that to happen.
Richards: Everything changed in the last year... Garfield Park getting torn down and built back up as Hope Valley displaced a lot of people.
Phantasm: And shit got weird all over.
[Alex nods with a big smile.]
Richards: Shit got weird all over. Yes sir. Gotta love this town-
Phantasm: Oh, I feel you there- it ain't perfect, but it's home. Place I come from's a lot like that... been so broken for so long that everybody just kinda likes it like that, you know?
Richards: Where are you from again, man? Sorry, I- you probably told me and I-
Phantasm: New Orleans.
Richards: Oh, shit. Yeah, you definitely know weird, then- every couple years your town has to swim.
Phantasm: Eh, we mostly just refuse to sink. Let me ask you something, man- what do you think is up with people suddenly manifesting powers? Something in the water in this town, or what?
[Alex looks to Polar with genuine confusion.]
Richards: Dude, I don't think I've drank a glass of tap water in twenty five years. How the hell would I know? For all I know it's aliens controlling our minds or something ridiculous like that. Hey, are you any good at making hats out of tin foil? 'Cause-
Phantasm: Wait, go back- back and right!
[Alex flips the 'Rover around in a big circle, causing traffic to flip around the vehicle all over the place. An Illinois State Trooper flies into the side of a tractor-trailer, impaling it.]
Richards: Sweet! First Chicago series and we've already had one obvious Blues Brothers homage- I think we're doing well so far. How about you, Polar?
[Polar somehow missed this entire exchange (and, as The Blues Brothers is one of his favorite films of all time, would totally be pissed to know he missed it) as he was lost in his wrist computers' screen, his interest in their target too intense.]
Phantasm: Up there- that big parking lot, what is that?
Richards: Looks like a strip mall to me, man. You wanna hit Bed, Bath and Beyond? Get your old lady a flame design shower curtain or somethin'? She'd love that.
Phantasm: That's... a really good idea, actually, and we should totally do that. But after we find the target- it's reading at about 250 yards out and closing fast, so we must be on 'em. Find a spot to park this thing and let's do some recon.
[Alex parks the Strange Rover in roughly seven spaces marked 'COMPACT'.]
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[Scene: Humboldt Park, Chicago; more specifically, a strip mall arcade. Alex Richards approaches Frank Venable, who is in the middle of a dead fucking serious game of Killer Instinct with a teenager; before he taps FPV on the shoulder, Alex ponders the action for a moment as if weighing his other options. He then taps Frank on the shoulder, causing him to turn around and jump at the sight of Alex Richards behind him.]
Arcade Cabinet: Cuh-cuh-cuh-COMBO BREAKER!
FPV: What the- fuck, Alex man, look at what you did!
[On screen, we watch as a woman with huge bouncy polygon boobs and pseudo-lightsabers delivers combo after combo to a skeleton with a scimitar and a wooden shield.]
Richards: Wow, it just keeps going, doesn't it?
Arcade Cabinet: ULLLTRRAAAAAAA
Teenager: Ha! You just got your ass whooped by Orchid!
FPV: Hey, you got DQ'ed 'cause Richards did a run-in with his spooky ass face. That's totally a foreign object! And you only play Orchid because you like to perv on her weird pointy boobs; Spinal's the coolest and you know it. Say it!
Teenager: Dream on, loser!
[Frank stares this punk kid down like they're about to duel, pistols at dawn...]
FPV: Say it or I'll superkick you to Addison Street.
Teenager: You wouldn't-
Richards: Trust me, kid; one time this guy superkicked a motorcycle over the grand canyon!
[Frank, impressed, turns to Alex Richards.]
FPV: You heard about that? It wasn't even on YouTube or anything.
[They turn back to see the teenager has fled. Meanwhile, across the arcade...]
FPV: That's how the game's played, Jimmy- if you don't get high score, you have to give me two quarters. I don't make the laws of Pac-Man, I just enforce them.
Phantasm: Frank!
[Frank waves off a handful of kids, stashing a sign reading "PAC-MAN - CASH PRIZES AVAILABLE".]
FPV: Polar! What are you doing here? I thought you were, you know, like... in space or something.
Phantasm: We were! It was awesome. I brought you some sand; it's kinda bluish and probably full of alien diseases, but it looks cool. Oh hey, Frank- while we're talking... why are you registering as a superhuman?
[To double-check himself, Polar glimpses back at his wrist-computer... as he looks back up, he sees Alex Richards approaching with a second Frank in tow.]
Richards: Oh, so you found Frank too! That's fun. Normally double vision isn't this convincing, you know? I've got a good buzz on today, man.
FPV: Check it out, Cam- I'm my own tag partner!
Richards: Whoa, Franks in stereo.
Phantasm: ...but which one is the real Frank Venable?
[The Franks high-five each other (themselves?) and one disappears.*]
(* - SELF HIGH FIVE! -B.)
FPV: Beats me.
Phantasm: Frank... there's just one of you now.
FPV: Yeah, but... how do I know if I'm the real one?
Richards: Whoa. That's deep, man.
[Polar facepalms. Just then, his wrist-computer echoes out the voice of Bonnie Blue...]
Bonnie: I've found the target, y'all-
[At this, Polar and Alex look at one another, then at the remaining Frank.]
Phantasm: Uh, no... I've found the target.
[As he says this, Cameron Bankston can hear his teammate Jay Omega's voice echoing back at him saying the exact same thing.]
Richards: Curiouser and curioser.
Omega: I'm heading back to base to figure this all out- meet back there?
Phantasm: Roger, just want to make a quick detour and scout out some of Hope Valley. Back at the Pit in a few; Phantasm out.
[Looking up from his wrist-computer, Polar asks a vague and tempting question of his friends.]
Phantasm: You guys wanna go scope out Sanchez' backyard?
[Frank jingles his pocket, shrugging.]
FPV: Yeah, I think I can call it a day.
Richards: And I'm the designated driver!
[Alex pulls a flask from his pocket, his keys attached to it by a brass link.]
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[Scene: Hope Valley, Chicago; more specifically, a newly-minted thoroughfare over what was once Garfield Park. The Strange Rover pulls off the road and into a massive construction site roughly three city blocks wide. It's after dark, so the site is almost completely empty; save, of course, for our heroes... as far as we can tell, anyhow. The boys exit the Rover and take a cursive glance around them... their conversation seems to follow them from their ride into their new environment.]
FPV: It just kinda works, you know? I want to be in two places, I'm in two places.
Richards: I'm still kinda spotty on how mine work, too. See?
[Alex disappears.]
Richards: Now I'm invisible.
FPV: And your voice changed...? That's weird as hell, man.
Phantasm: What else were you expecting?
FPV: Cam- did you just make that rat an icicle?
Phantasm: Yep.
FPV: That's cool as shit! You really are the Polar Phantasm now!
[Alex reappears.]
Richards: What do you think caused all this, Frank?
FPV: I don't know... but I know it's pretty fuckin' awesome.
[There is a squelch of a speaker; from the shadows, a voice echoes.]
Syndicate: You are tresspassing on Syndicate property. You will exit Hope Valley; you have thirty seconds to comply.
[Polar looks to his friends; their surprised reactions turn to conviction.]
Richards: Nobody tells me to get outta my town.
FPV: I wonder what it is they're hiding out here...
Phantasm: ...that's what I'm thinkin' too, Frank. Alright, team- get ready for incoming.
[From the shadows, half a dozen Syndicate members approach... a moment later, a phone begins ringing. Polar checks his pocket; it is he receiving an incoming call, number registering as an unknown. The Syndicate soldiers do not raise their arms; Polar sighs and answers his cellphone.]
Phantasm: Hello?
[From the other end of the phone, a somewhat familiar voice replies.]
Sanchez: I can see you.
Phantasm: Mayor Sanchez. To what do I owe the honor?
Sanchez: Get out of Hope Valley, Phantasm. There's no reason for you to dirty yourself with the day-to-day of rebuilding this fine city-
Phantasm: Is that what's happening here? Lot of security for a simple construction job.
Sanchez: Give that inquistive nature of yours a break, Phantasm. Not all questions are worth answering.
Phantasm: One thing you should know about me, Sanchez- I always find the answers I'm looking for.
Sanchez: Then perhaps you need incentive to stop looking? I've already had my men pay Alex Richards' rathole bar a visit- I specifically asked them to be nice about it, by the way. Of course, I could have the whole neighborhood condemned and razed...
Phantasm: Alright, Sanchez- you've made your point. Call your men off.
Sanchez: I knew you'd see things my way, Phantasm. We'll talk again sometime-
Phantasm: -yeah you right. We ain't done yet, Sanchez. Not by a long shot.
[Polar hangs up his phone, putting it back in his pocket; he waves Frank and Alex back over, heading toward the Strange Rover.]
Phantasm: I'm not sure what we've found here just yet... but it's something, alright.
[And he was right- the Phantasm and his friends had found, if nothing else, a squishy soft point in the concrete and steel empire of David Sanchez. As to when they'd know just what they'd discovered... that, my friends, would be another story.]
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WINDY CITY
Series conceived by the Polar Phantasm
Series directed by Jay Omega
Episode Four: Hope for a Brighter Future
Episode written by the
