Windy City Stories Pt. V: The Sloshed Pit Summit
Jul 24, 2016 12:35:03 GMT -6
Bonnie Blue, David Sanchez, and 1 more like this
Post by The Polar Phantasm on Jul 24, 2016 12:35:03 GMT -6
Hey everybody; welcome to another fun Guardians adventure! This week it's a very special co-production with our friends across the way at the Syndicate- big props to Erin Fausse and David Sanchez for getting in on this madness.
And I mean madness - this is eight pieces with eight writers, y'all. To everyone who took part in the creation of this story... thank you. And to you, the readers- we hope that you enjoy reading this stuff as much as we enjoy writing it.
Here's a (theoretical) table of contents - that said, who knows when all of this gets up :/
Guardians/Syndicate: Windy City Stories
Part I: Who Killed Diego Garcia?
Written by: Bonnie Blue
Interlude 1: Shock and Awe*
Written by: Andre Holmes
(* - Who knows what the hell Holmes ends up calling this? He's Andre Holmes. Let him do what he do. -B.)
Part II: God is Dead
Written by: Erin Fausse
Part III: Hear No Evil, See All Evil
Written by: Preecha Kamon
Part IV: Push Me, Pull Me
Written by: Alex Richards
Interlude 2: We Are Legion
Written by: Frank Patrick Venable
Part V: The Sloshed Pit Summit
Written by: the Polar Phantasm
Part VI*: My United States of Whatever
Written by: David Sanchez
(* - I think Sanch posted as Part V... whatever, there's two part fives. Numbers mean nothing, even when they're Roman numerals! I discard you with disdain, mathematics! -B.)
And now, here's Part V (ish) of Windy City Stories... the Sloshed Pit Summit! Enjoy... see you next week; same Guardians time, same Guardians channel.
-B.
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[Scene: Wicker Park, Chicago; more specifically, the Sloshed Pit. A dive bar existing seemingly apart from the bustling neighborhood it sits wedged in the middle of... the Pit stands out in the way that only a black hole amidst a shining backdrop of stars can. It's the sort of place where one can easily lose large chunks of time... it's the kind of place where one can step out of reality for a while. It's the kind of place that would be owned and operated by the Archduke of Mass Confusion... that is to say that it is really, really weird. Weird in a way that goes beyond quaint or charming and straight on into beautiful and glorious... that is not to say it is 'beautiful' or 'glorious' by any conventional definition. I mean... let's be frank* here; the place is a shithole. It's the kind of place where drunks dream of going when they die; the booze is cheap, the women have low standards and the sun barely exists there (even conceptually). The house band are there, then aren't there, then are there... it's like a broken jukebox that plays when it feels like it and can't be turned off. But, you know... live! That's what you get with a band called 'Temporal Wonkiness', I guess. Also, they're pretty terrible- but that's just icing on this cake, man. I mean, if you pick up a girl in the Sloshed Pit you should proceed immediately to the free clinic upon kicking her out of your apartment; that is assuming you didn't fall for the 'let's go to my place so I can cut your kidneys out and leave you in a bathtub full of ice' gag. It's that kind of joint. It is also, at least for the time being, the Chicagoland HQ of UCI's Guardians. Toward the back of the bar we see an unlikely assembly of personalities... some Guardians, some unaffiliated UCI workers... a few aren't even on the roster. That said, it's pretty obvious this isn't some friends and family get together to celebrate somebody's birthday. Corey Black's wearing war paint- that shit doesn't happen for a birthday party unless the invitation specifically states that there will be ninjas. The Avenger sits at the far end of the tables-wedged-together setup they've got going on in back of the diveyest dive to ever dive; to his left sits the Relentless One himself, Mr. Andre Holmes. To their right sits the venerable Frank Venable, known to the children of the world as their hero FPV; as to what this says of our world's children we can only guess.]
(* - catchphrase borrowed from FPV; whatup brah? -B.)
Black: Shit's weird all over, man. It's kinda nice to see everybody here, though- where's Omega?
FPV: Polar said something to me about Jay being in space with some princess... some Daran System shit. You know he brought me blue sand back from space? It's awesome. I mean, it's sand, but it's cool as hell sand. You know?
Holmes: What the fuck is up with people being in space? Jay Omega's a fucking wrestler, man. I mean- don't get me wrong, I'm not telling y'all how to live your lives or anything, but what the fuck is he doing in space?
Black: He already said, dude- some space princess. You know as soon as green-skinned chicks land on this planet that dude's first in line to run up in 'em.
FPV: ...shit, man, I can't blame him- I'd probably hit that. I mean, if it's worth leavin' the planet for...
Holmes: Yeah, I guess- I don't know man, I'm too focused for shit like that. I got a life on Earth. I got a job, you know? And so does that dude. Or did; I don't know. Everything got fuckin' weird all of a sudden.
Black: You ask me? It's that dude, right there.
[Corey subtly gestures toward the man at the 'head' of the conglomeration of furniture... one Cameron Bankston, aka the Polar Phantasm.]
Black: I've known that dude for almost five years now, and I'll tell you straight up- shit always gets weird anytime the Phantasm shows up.
FPV: Corey... that's Polar, man. Polar. We stood in his wedding, man.
Black: Yeah, and I was at his bachelor party.
Holmes: ...what happened at his bachelor party?
Black: None of us remember, man. We spent the whole next day trying to figure it out... we thought we'd lost Jeff Purse somewhere in Vegas.
FPV: Yeah, that was hilarious.
Holmes: Man, Pantheon partied that hard? Fly was World Champ for like, seven thousand matches. How did his liver not explode?
FPV: My guess is bionic liver.
Holmes: Come to think of it, how is Alex Richards still alive?
Black: Look, I'm just saying... it's not always bad, right? Sometimes Polar throws the coolest parties. But sometimes just knowing that dude gets you into the worst shit ever and you can't do much about it; you're just in that shit 'til you're not.
FPV: Vegas, again... when we busted Seth out.
Black: Right. I'm lucky I was in and out of that- you were front lines of that fiasco 'til the bitter end. You crazy mother fucker.
FPV: I was on so much acid-
Holmes: I'm not sure if I'm upset I missed that or glad I missed that.
Black: Right? Either Polar throws the coolest parties, or...
Holmes: ...worst shit ever. I'm starting to see what you mean.
FPV: So Polar's gone for like, eighteen months or something... shows back up, couple of weeks later everything goes haywire.
Holmes: Sanchez comes into power, people start turning into X-Men...
Black: ...and mere seconds into the whole thing, Polar shows up with Bonnie and Omega like "We've got this, guys. We're the Guardians."
FPV: I mean, it kinda fits together...
Holmes: Sounding pretty damn solid to me, man.
Black: I don't know anything. I just see a guy I've known for four or five years show up out of nowhere and now he's freezing water with his brain and going into space.
FPV: I don't know, man. Personally, I give Polar the benefit of the doubt... I think the Guardians are actually trying to do something about all this.
Holmes: Yeah, but that doesn't mean they didn't start it in the first place. Could've been an accident, even. Wouldn't change much. Fucking up reality is fucking up reality all day long.
Black: Come on, Frank; you still fucked up from that Vegas trip? It's been like, four years.
FPV: You know I'm not- come on, Corey; why are you still fucking with me about something that happened four years ago?
[Corey looks to Andre; they both have a hearty laugh at that wide-open setup.]
Holmes: That's what we do, man!
Black: Yeah, dude... we're professional wrestlers. Making fun of people for shit that happened back in the day is our bread and butter, man.
[Just then, the Phantasm raises his voice and booms out to the assembly...]
Phantasm: Is everybody here?
-------------------------------
"Who watches the watchmen?" - Alan Moore's Watchmen
"Seven years of power
The corporation claw
The rich control the government, the media the law
To make some kind of difference
Then everyone must know
Eradicate the fascists, revolution will grow...
The system we learn says we're equal under law
But the streets are reality, the weak and poor will fall
Let's tip the power balance and tear down their crown
Educate the masses, we'll burn the White House down!" - Queensryche, Speak
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!
What is a man but what he perceives? Would a man who cannot hear be classified as less of a man for his handicap? Then what is a handicap but a challenge? In this world of distraction, it is easy to forget the cold precision of silence... but among all the bumping and blaring and bleating, one man exists apart. A man who sees, feels... knows more than most realize is there. Close your ears... open your mind. Now you can see... THE EDGE OF SILENCE, PREECHA KAMON!
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!
It's a cold world out there; sometimes one has to dabble outside of the law to make ends meet. Sometimes one finds out they're really good at that sort of thing... then sometimes one wakes up one day and realizes what they've become and steps away from 'the life'. Some get killed... some get pressured back in... some get run out of town. Those people? They don't have enough moxie to make it, that's all. If life's one big chess game, then the secret to winning is to talk the other guy into tipping over his king. At least, that's the rather compelling worldview of ARMAND DE LA FONTAINE!
Born in a crack in time, he has seen the very edges of the multiverse and lived to tell the tales... tales which most brush off as the ramblings of an intense-looking lunatic, though a great many painful truths lay within. He is a man of great sight, great knowledge and many answers... though more often than not, they're answers to questions no one has yet thought to ask. Occasionally, they're questions no one in this dimension will ever think to ask. It's an occupational hazard when you can see the reality next door as easily as one might see a building. He calls himself Para-Pirutseo-Bal, but his 'friends' know him as HOPHNI!
By day, he masquerades as Creeping Death, fighter in the Yakuza-run Chicago Puroresu League... by night, he stalks the rooftops of Chicago looking for weak points in their organization and earning a reputation as the bane of Japanese pimps city-wide. Behave, Windy City... you're being watched by THE AVENGER, COREY BLACK!
He was a terror of the squared circle, known worldwide as a man who could snap at any moment and become a whirlwind of 'Headshots'... after one more run in Japan, he hung up his boots and took on a career as an interviewer. The jury is still out as to whether or not being on the other side of things has at all curbed his pension for punting as puncutation. He's over there; oh, yeah, and he's over there, and... you know, it's best not to ask too many questions when talking about FRANK PATRICK VENABLE!
Single father, honest man, incredible talent. All are great attibutes of this man, as strong a worker as the wrestling business has ever seen... but when you ask about him, that's rarely what you'll hear. The man is somewhat eclipsed by the monster that lurks within... a temper so legendary that he should come with a warning label. Kind, courageous, athletically gifted... heh. Ask his opponents and they'll tell you who he is. He is "RELENTLESS" ANDRE HOLMES!
[Life in Chicago has become a struggle for much of the city in the past few weeks... at first, Garfield Park destruction and then Hope Valley construction made things slightly inconvenient for pockets of the city. We saw the criminal element forced into the deserts of Chiraq; turf scuffles began popping up like Starbucks, by which I mean seemingly on every corner and seemingly there to stay. All of these small fires flickered and refused to be extinguished; all it would take to set the city ablaze would be one moment, which inconveniently (for most... but conveniently for some) came with uncanny timing. Mayor Sanchez and Erin Fausse pulled a page from the fascist playbook, outlawing organized religion in the city of Chicago; a tanker truck of gasoline was crashed into that metaphoric pile of embers, launching the city into a frenzy. A few short days later, a noteworthy and popular public figure in the Latin Kings community is killed in what looks like a textbook gang hit... Little China's Triads are quickly blamed for the killing, but not everything adds up. And once again, who truly benefits from any of this?]
[It's a common theme these days... more questions than answers, and answers seem to lead to more questions. But Alex, Crystal, Cam and Bonnie know there's answers out there, solid answers to questions that frame reality itself... real solid answers to life, the universe and everything. Right now, though... they'd settle for just being able to figure out who killed Diego Garcia.]
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POLAR PHANTASM #11: The Sloshed Pit Summit
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Phantasm: Is everybody here?
Bonnie: Everybody but Jay-
Holmes: Where is Omega, anyway?
[Alex sighs.]
Phantasm: It's a long story... remind me, though. I'll tell you later*.
(* - to be published soonish as Earthbound Misfits... once I, uh, finish writing it. *hangs head* -B.)
Black: Ain't usually a happy ending when somebody says it like that.
Bonnie: We're hoping it's not an ending.
Richards: Jay will manage... he always does.
[There is a pause; there is a brief nod from many of the group.]
Richards: Unless he dies again.
[There is another pause; there is a slight groan from Polar and Bonnie.]
Phantasm: He's not gonna die again.
Nightmare: Probably.
Bonnie: He'll be fine! He's got a space princess to keep an eye on him.
Nightmare: Isn't he supposed to be keeping an eye on her?
[Bonnie lets that hang for a second.]
Nightmare: Nevermind- valid point.
Black: Enough about the spaceman... Little China's about to become a warzone.
Phantasm: You don't have to tell us- Crystal and I were just out looking at it from the air. Chaos is spreading far too quickly for this Phantasm-
Armand: It's not much prettier on the ground.
[Armand stands up, making a bit of a presentation of his turn to speak; he's already figured out he's going to need to stand out to be heard in this rabble... so he does.]
Armand: We've been there, and we've seen this coming for a while... it's not just Little China, either.
Holmes: Humboldt Park is running wild.
Black: -it's going down in West Town too. Yakuza are all over the place, making moves left and right.
Holmes: They tried to sell me, Polar. That is not going unanswered.
Bonnie: You're about to tear up the Yakuza. By yourself.
[Andre cocks an eyebrow at Bonnie.]
Holmes: I'm gonna get my pound of flesh, at the very least.
Black: Amen to that-
Phantasm: Not so loud... that kinda talk gets you in trouble these days. So, Andre... Corey mentioned you're the electrician in these parts now.
Black: Craziest shit I've ever seen.
Nightmare: Now that is sayin' something. What'd you do, 'dre?
Holmes: Nothing close to what I'm gonna do.
[Armand jumps back in, well into his unexpected (by most, anyway) role as speaker.]
Armand: Not to interrupt, but we should get back on track with this meeting.
[And with that, he promotes himself to moderator.]
Armand: It's pretty obvious the Yakuza are behind all of this. The Triads are by no means innocent; Xing and his people are everywhere on that end of town, too... but they didn't kill Garcia.
Bonnie: How d'ya know that?
Black: Same way I know it- watching what's going on out on the streets. Yakuza been makin' plays for everything... drugs, whores, gambling, human trafficking... even pro wrestling.
Richards: I have officially heard everything.
Nightmare: What are the chances you're blacked out right now, Alex?
[He considers for a moment.]
Richards: Fair to good.
Nightmare: Ok... just figured I should give everyone a side note on that comment.
Holmes: That's serious though... Yakuza tried to get me on at Puroresu, before they tried to clap irons on me.
[By body language alone, one could tell that Andre Holmes is unhappy with the Yakuza; by one's knowledge of Holmes alone, one can tell that this is a severe understatement. Oh, man, is it. If looks could kill...]
FPV: What kinda world are we in where the mob is running wrestling?
Phantasm: Frank... the mob has run everything at one point or another. And they usually do a pretty good job of things... just a bit iron-fisted, you know?
Bonnie: An' how much different is Yakuza Pro Wrestling from the Sanchez Administration, really? Everything's rotten to the core in this town.
Black: It's enough to make you wonder if the two aren't connected.
Armand: Your painted friend may be onto something... Sanchez' shock troopers have been sneaking around, and a little too close to Triad and Yakuza operations to be doing so on the slick...
Phantasm: Someone knows they're there.
FPV: You talking about the guys who look like me?
[Preecha points at Frank's face.]
Armand: Yep. Those guys in the gas masks... are you.
FPV: ALL OF THEM?
Phantasm: Fuck- this is not good.
Bonnie: If they're clones or something they-
Phantasm: -could remember everything Frank knows. Double fuck.
Nightmare: Bonnie, how much of Reb's memories do you have?
Bonnie: A lot more of 'em than I'm comfortable with an army of Franks having of his.
Black: That's just... fuck, way too many Franks. Like... infinity too many Franks.
FPV: Wouldn't that be... infinity minus one too many Franks?
[Corey just stares for a second.]
FPV: 'Cause like, there's the one Frank, and then-
Black: I understand how numbers work, Frank.
Holmes: That's cold. That man just told you he knows how numbers work-
FPV: Yeah... he's lucky I don't show him how numbers work when you're Frank fuckin' Venable!
[This impossibly tense moment is somewhat self-defusing... at least, that's the best way to describe the lazy slap-fight that breaks out between Corey Black and Frank Venable. Corey chucks an empty plastic cup, smacking Frank in the forehead; it rebounds off, amazingly landing right-side-up on the table. The humorous moment becomes an excited cheer.]
Holmes: No way you can do that again.
FPV: I... actually, I kinda want to see if he can do that again.
Black: Twenty bucks. Anybody in? 20 a piece I make this shot.
[Across the table, Armand leans into Preecha and Hophni as if giving counsel. Polar and Bonnie look on wondering what's brewing there... when Armand looks back over, he's very businesslike in demeanor. It's almost as if he's taking this meeting thing seriously.]
Armand: My friend Hophni's seen some things, too. Echoes of the past, he says...
[The mystic pipes up, knowing this is his chance to share his... findings?]
Hophni: Everything changed in May, even the way the past echoes through timespace. The future is not the future that was. The present is not the present that would have been. The past is not the past that it will be.
[Polar looks to Nightmare, then to Alex, then to Bonnie.]
Phantasm: I... got nothin'.
Bonnie: I think I get what he's saying- the Wave. It changed everything... past, present, future.
Nightmare: Right, but... past is not the past that will be?
Phantasm: That can't be right... unless...
Richards: Unless we're supposed to fix the past.
[The other Guardians (as well as Armand and Hophni) turn to Alex in surprise.]
Phantasm: ...holy shit, Alex.
Nightmare: Maybe there's something to this Pastafarian thing. It's delicious and enlightening.
[Bonnie can't help but giggle, recalling Alex's sacramental colander.]
Bonnie: All hail the Flying Spaghetti Monster for granting you such wisdom!
Richards: What? Sounded like a pretty easy riddle to me.
[Armand just shakes his head.]
Armand: The guy's like a fuckin' savant. I've never seen anybody... well, decode this guy! Amazing.
[Polar stands, nodding slightly to the Daughter of Time.]
Phantasm: Gotta have a little conference with my partner, but we'll be back in a sec... don't go anywhere, guys.
[As they duck off into the shadows about 25 feet away, they can hear Corey and Andre attempting to duplicate Corey's ridiculous feat of flinging.]
Bonnie: Is it just me, or is every clue we're finding pointin' worse an' worse places?
Phantasm: It's not just you. Comedian says Chicago, Chicago is going to hell. Hophni says we should look in the past-
Bonnie: -yeah, that's a small window. We can cover that in...
[Bonnie trails off, expecting Polar to have a line. Polar hangs there, waiting for an actual calculation.]
Bonnie: ...come on, partner, I set you up an' everything.
Phantasm: ...shit. Did I just whiff? Oof. Steee-rike. Take 2?
Bonnie: We can cover that in...
Phantasm: ...guessing ten thousand years. Or a hundred Sanchez promos, whichever comes first.
Bonnie: Yeah, that sounds about right. Way to catch the rebound.
Phantasm: It's what I do. Christ- Holmes with powers. He's the lightning guy!
Bonnie: Makes sense; you're the iceman, Crystal's the torch...
Phantasm: ...you're the time witch. And Alex is...
Bonnie: ...Alex. Or Alexa.
Phantasm: Alright, so it's not that weird. Still, talk about potential for destruction, though... that's...
[Polar leaves Bonnie an opening...]
Bonnie: ...a lot?
[Polar hangs his head.]
Bonnie: I froze! Damn. Gimme a second shot at it?
Phantasm: Talk about potential for destruction, though... that's-
Bonnie: -a truck full of napalm crashin' into a fireworks factory... made entirely out of C4.
Phantasm: Nailed it. Nailed it and spiked the football; fifteen yard penalty, but fuck it.
Bonnie: So, Armand...
Phantasm: Yeah, and Hophni... and Preecha.
Bonnie: Buried treasures, partner. With Jay off-planet, we could use a few more hands.
Phantasm: Shit, those cats are way more than 'hands'.
Bonnie: I know, right?
Phantasm: Let's talk to 'em after this. Come on; wanna wrap this up... I can tell Crystal's gettin' tired.
Bonnie: Of sleepin' in a bar?
Phantasm: Don't you know it.
[They get closer and closer to their party as their conversation continues.]
Bonnie: Oh, hey- we got a plan for the Stiletto match?
Phantasm: ...yeah, I thought I texted you. They go high- underscore, hatchback, bird-on-a-wire, check your zipper. They go low- bird-on-a-wire, fedora, defenestrator. Then if you're feeling it, friendship bracelets.
Bonnie: ...that's mean, Polar.
Phantasm: Hey... that's wrestling.
[They glance over to see the whole table watching their coded/jargon-filled/nonsensical strategy meeting.]
Black: That didn't sound like wrestling. That sounded like you were ordering from a restaurant run out of an insane asylum.
[Polar and Bonnie sit back down as murmured discussion picks back up.]
Phantasm: Alright, one more thing... taking on Sanchez might make for some strange bedfellows. We all have common interests in this fight... as well as a lot of others.
FPV: Damn right.
Holmes: Whole city!
Phantasm: I may reach out to some people who have issue with Sanchez' new policy... frighteningly powerful people.
Black: What, more supers?
Phantasm: No, not this time. I was thinking about calling the Vatican.
[As the gravity of this sets in, much of the assembly stands to leave.]
Phantasm: Yeah, probably a solid plan to stay out of that; hey, Armand, Hophni, Preecha; give us a sec, yeah?
[Bonnie and Polar look across the table at these three men, acquaintances become allies...]
Bonnie: We were thinkin' maybe you guys could use some work.
[Mimicking De La Fontaine's businesslike tone during the meeting, Phantasm delivers his pitch with a bit of a smirk.]
Phantasm: Have you ever considered a career with the Guardians?
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WINDY CITY STORIES
Series conceived by Bonnie Blue, David Sanchez and the Polar Phantasm
Series directed by the Polar Phantasm
Episode Five: The Sloshed Pit Summit
Episode written by the Polar Phantasm
'The Guardians' created by Bonnie Blue, Jay Omega and the Polar Phantasm
'The Syndicate' created by David Sanchez and Taylor Wright
(Come home soon, Spaceman.)
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. Corey Black appears courtesy of our collective nightmares. All rights reserved.]
And I mean madness - this is eight pieces with eight writers, y'all. To everyone who took part in the creation of this story... thank you. And to you, the readers- we hope that you enjoy reading this stuff as much as we enjoy writing it.
Here's a (theoretical) table of contents - that said, who knows when all of this gets up :/
Guardians/Syndicate: Windy City Stories
Part I: Who Killed Diego Garcia?
Written by: Bonnie Blue
Interlude 1: Shock and Awe*
Written by: Andre Holmes
(* - Who knows what the hell Holmes ends up calling this? He's Andre Holmes. Let him do what he do. -B.)
Part II: God is Dead
Written by: Erin Fausse
Part III: Hear No Evil, See All Evil
Written by: Preecha Kamon
Part IV: Push Me, Pull Me
Written by: Alex Richards
Interlude 2: We Are Legion
Written by: Frank Patrick Venable
Part V: The Sloshed Pit Summit
Written by: the Polar Phantasm
Part VI*: My United States of Whatever
Written by: David Sanchez
(* - I think Sanch posted as Part V... whatever, there's two part fives. Numbers mean nothing, even when they're Roman numerals! I discard you with disdain, mathematics! -B.)
And now, here's Part V (ish) of Windy City Stories... the Sloshed Pit Summit! Enjoy... see you next week; same Guardians time, same Guardians channel.
-B.
------------------------------
[Scene: Wicker Park, Chicago; more specifically, the Sloshed Pit. A dive bar existing seemingly apart from the bustling neighborhood it sits wedged in the middle of... the Pit stands out in the way that only a black hole amidst a shining backdrop of stars can. It's the sort of place where one can easily lose large chunks of time... it's the kind of place where one can step out of reality for a while. It's the kind of place that would be owned and operated by the Archduke of Mass Confusion... that is to say that it is really, really weird. Weird in a way that goes beyond quaint or charming and straight on into beautiful and glorious... that is not to say it is 'beautiful' or 'glorious' by any conventional definition. I mean... let's be frank* here; the place is a shithole. It's the kind of place where drunks dream of going when they die; the booze is cheap, the women have low standards and the sun barely exists there (even conceptually). The house band are there, then aren't there, then are there... it's like a broken jukebox that plays when it feels like it and can't be turned off. But, you know... live! That's what you get with a band called 'Temporal Wonkiness', I guess. Also, they're pretty terrible- but that's just icing on this cake, man. I mean, if you pick up a girl in the Sloshed Pit you should proceed immediately to the free clinic upon kicking her out of your apartment; that is assuming you didn't fall for the 'let's go to my place so I can cut your kidneys out and leave you in a bathtub full of ice' gag. It's that kind of joint. It is also, at least for the time being, the Chicagoland HQ of UCI's Guardians. Toward the back of the bar we see an unlikely assembly of personalities... some Guardians, some unaffiliated UCI workers... a few aren't even on the roster. That said, it's pretty obvious this isn't some friends and family get together to celebrate somebody's birthday. Corey Black's wearing war paint- that shit doesn't happen for a birthday party unless the invitation specifically states that there will be ninjas. The Avenger sits at the far end of the tables-wedged-together setup they've got going on in back of the diveyest dive to ever dive; to his left sits the Relentless One himself, Mr. Andre Holmes. To their right sits the venerable Frank Venable, known to the children of the world as their hero FPV; as to what this says of our world's children we can only guess.]
(* - catchphrase borrowed from FPV; whatup brah? -B.)
Black: Shit's weird all over, man. It's kinda nice to see everybody here, though- where's Omega?
FPV: Polar said something to me about Jay being in space with some princess... some Daran System shit. You know he brought me blue sand back from space? It's awesome. I mean, it's sand, but it's cool as hell sand. You know?
Holmes: What the fuck is up with people being in space? Jay Omega's a fucking wrestler, man. I mean- don't get me wrong, I'm not telling y'all how to live your lives or anything, but what the fuck is he doing in space?
Black: He already said, dude- some space princess. You know as soon as green-skinned chicks land on this planet that dude's first in line to run up in 'em.
FPV: ...shit, man, I can't blame him- I'd probably hit that. I mean, if it's worth leavin' the planet for...
Holmes: Yeah, I guess- I don't know man, I'm too focused for shit like that. I got a life on Earth. I got a job, you know? And so does that dude. Or did; I don't know. Everything got fuckin' weird all of a sudden.
Black: You ask me? It's that dude, right there.
[Corey subtly gestures toward the man at the 'head' of the conglomeration of furniture... one Cameron Bankston, aka the Polar Phantasm.]
Black: I've known that dude for almost five years now, and I'll tell you straight up- shit always gets weird anytime the Phantasm shows up.
FPV: Corey... that's Polar, man. Polar. We stood in his wedding, man.
Black: Yeah, and I was at his bachelor party.
Holmes: ...what happened at his bachelor party?
Black: None of us remember, man. We spent the whole next day trying to figure it out... we thought we'd lost Jeff Purse somewhere in Vegas.
FPV: Yeah, that was hilarious.
Holmes: Man, Pantheon partied that hard? Fly was World Champ for like, seven thousand matches. How did his liver not explode?
FPV: My guess is bionic liver.
Holmes: Come to think of it, how is Alex Richards still alive?
Black: Look, I'm just saying... it's not always bad, right? Sometimes Polar throws the coolest parties. But sometimes just knowing that dude gets you into the worst shit ever and you can't do much about it; you're just in that shit 'til you're not.
FPV: Vegas, again... when we busted Seth out.
Black: Right. I'm lucky I was in and out of that- you were front lines of that fiasco 'til the bitter end. You crazy mother fucker.
FPV: I was on so much acid-
Holmes: I'm not sure if I'm upset I missed that or glad I missed that.
Black: Right? Either Polar throws the coolest parties, or...
Holmes: ...worst shit ever. I'm starting to see what you mean.
FPV: So Polar's gone for like, eighteen months or something... shows back up, couple of weeks later everything goes haywire.
Holmes: Sanchez comes into power, people start turning into X-Men...
Black: ...and mere seconds into the whole thing, Polar shows up with Bonnie and Omega like "We've got this, guys. We're the Guardians."
FPV: I mean, it kinda fits together...
Holmes: Sounding pretty damn solid to me, man.
Black: I don't know anything. I just see a guy I've known for four or five years show up out of nowhere and now he's freezing water with his brain and going into space.
FPV: I don't know, man. Personally, I give Polar the benefit of the doubt... I think the Guardians are actually trying to do something about all this.
Holmes: Yeah, but that doesn't mean they didn't start it in the first place. Could've been an accident, even. Wouldn't change much. Fucking up reality is fucking up reality all day long.
Black: Come on, Frank; you still fucked up from that Vegas trip? It's been like, four years.
FPV: You know I'm not- come on, Corey; why are you still fucking with me about something that happened four years ago?
[Corey looks to Andre; they both have a hearty laugh at that wide-open setup.]
Holmes: That's what we do, man!
Black: Yeah, dude... we're professional wrestlers. Making fun of people for shit that happened back in the day is our bread and butter, man.
[Just then, the Phantasm raises his voice and booms out to the assembly...]
Phantasm: Is everybody here?
-------------------------------
"Who watches the watchmen?" - Alan Moore's Watchmen
"Seven years of power
The corporation claw
The rich control the government, the media the law
To make some kind of difference
Then everyone must know
Eradicate the fascists, revolution will grow...
The system we learn says we're equal under law
But the streets are reality, the weak and poor will fall
Let's tip the power balance and tear down their crown
Educate the masses, we'll burn the White House down!" - Queensryche, Speak
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!
What is a man but what he perceives? Would a man who cannot hear be classified as less of a man for his handicap? Then what is a handicap but a challenge? In this world of distraction, it is easy to forget the cold precision of silence... but among all the bumping and blaring and bleating, one man exists apart. A man who sees, feels... knows more than most realize is there. Close your ears... open your mind. Now you can see... THE EDGE OF SILENCE, PREECHA KAMON!
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!
It's a cold world out there; sometimes one has to dabble outside of the law to make ends meet. Sometimes one finds out they're really good at that sort of thing... then sometimes one wakes up one day and realizes what they've become and steps away from 'the life'. Some get killed... some get pressured back in... some get run out of town. Those people? They don't have enough moxie to make it, that's all. If life's one big chess game, then the secret to winning is to talk the other guy into tipping over his king. At least, that's the rather compelling worldview of ARMAND DE LA FONTAINE!
Born in a crack in time, he has seen the very edges of the multiverse and lived to tell the tales... tales which most brush off as the ramblings of an intense-looking lunatic, though a great many painful truths lay within. He is a man of great sight, great knowledge and many answers... though more often than not, they're answers to questions no one has yet thought to ask. Occasionally, they're questions no one in this dimension will ever think to ask. It's an occupational hazard when you can see the reality next door as easily as one might see a building. He calls himself Para-Pirutseo-Bal, but his 'friends' know him as HOPHNI!
By day, he masquerades as Creeping Death, fighter in the Yakuza-run Chicago Puroresu League... by night, he stalks the rooftops of Chicago looking for weak points in their organization and earning a reputation as the bane of Japanese pimps city-wide. Behave, Windy City... you're being watched by THE AVENGER, COREY BLACK!
He was a terror of the squared circle, known worldwide as a man who could snap at any moment and become a whirlwind of 'Headshots'... after one more run in Japan, he hung up his boots and took on a career as an interviewer. The jury is still out as to whether or not being on the other side of things has at all curbed his pension for punting as puncutation. He's over there; oh, yeah, and he's over there, and... you know, it's best not to ask too many questions when talking about FRANK PATRICK VENABLE!
Single father, honest man, incredible talent. All are great attibutes of this man, as strong a worker as the wrestling business has ever seen... but when you ask about him, that's rarely what you'll hear. The man is somewhat eclipsed by the monster that lurks within... a temper so legendary that he should come with a warning label. Kind, courageous, athletically gifted... heh. Ask his opponents and they'll tell you who he is. He is "RELENTLESS" ANDRE HOLMES!
[Life in Chicago has become a struggle for much of the city in the past few weeks... at first, Garfield Park destruction and then Hope Valley construction made things slightly inconvenient for pockets of the city. We saw the criminal element forced into the deserts of Chiraq; turf scuffles began popping up like Starbucks, by which I mean seemingly on every corner and seemingly there to stay. All of these small fires flickered and refused to be extinguished; all it would take to set the city ablaze would be one moment, which inconveniently (for most... but conveniently for some) came with uncanny timing. Mayor Sanchez and Erin Fausse pulled a page from the fascist playbook, outlawing organized religion in the city of Chicago; a tanker truck of gasoline was crashed into that metaphoric pile of embers, launching the city into a frenzy. A few short days later, a noteworthy and popular public figure in the Latin Kings community is killed in what looks like a textbook gang hit... Little China's Triads are quickly blamed for the killing, but not everything adds up. And once again, who truly benefits from any of this?]
[It's a common theme these days... more questions than answers, and answers seem to lead to more questions. But Alex, Crystal, Cam and Bonnie know there's answers out there, solid answers to questions that frame reality itself... real solid answers to life, the universe and everything. Right now, though... they'd settle for just being able to figure out who killed Diego Garcia.]
-------------------------------------------------------------
POLAR PHANTASM #11: The Sloshed Pit Summit
-------------------------------------------------------------
Phantasm: Is everybody here?
Bonnie: Everybody but Jay-
Holmes: Where is Omega, anyway?
[Alex sighs.]
Phantasm: It's a long story... remind me, though. I'll tell you later*.
(* - to be published soonish as Earthbound Misfits... once I, uh, finish writing it. *hangs head* -B.)
Black: Ain't usually a happy ending when somebody says it like that.
Bonnie: We're hoping it's not an ending.
Richards: Jay will manage... he always does.
[There is a pause; there is a brief nod from many of the group.]
Richards: Unless he dies again.
[There is another pause; there is a slight groan from Polar and Bonnie.]
Phantasm: He's not gonna die again.
Nightmare: Probably.
Bonnie: He'll be fine! He's got a space princess to keep an eye on him.
Nightmare: Isn't he supposed to be keeping an eye on her?
[Bonnie lets that hang for a second.]
Nightmare: Nevermind- valid point.
Black: Enough about the spaceman... Little China's about to become a warzone.
Phantasm: You don't have to tell us- Crystal and I were just out looking at it from the air. Chaos is spreading far too quickly for this Phantasm-
Armand: It's not much prettier on the ground.
[Armand stands up, making a bit of a presentation of his turn to speak; he's already figured out he's going to need to stand out to be heard in this rabble... so he does.]
Armand: We've been there, and we've seen this coming for a while... it's not just Little China, either.
Holmes: Humboldt Park is running wild.
Black: -it's going down in West Town too. Yakuza are all over the place, making moves left and right.
Holmes: They tried to sell me, Polar. That is not going unanswered.
Bonnie: You're about to tear up the Yakuza. By yourself.
[Andre cocks an eyebrow at Bonnie.]
Holmes: I'm gonna get my pound of flesh, at the very least.
Black: Amen to that-
Phantasm: Not so loud... that kinda talk gets you in trouble these days. So, Andre... Corey mentioned you're the electrician in these parts now.
Black: Craziest shit I've ever seen.
Nightmare: Now that is sayin' something. What'd you do, 'dre?
Holmes: Nothing close to what I'm gonna do.
[Armand jumps back in, well into his unexpected (by most, anyway) role as speaker.]
Armand: Not to interrupt, but we should get back on track with this meeting.
[And with that, he promotes himself to moderator.]
Armand: It's pretty obvious the Yakuza are behind all of this. The Triads are by no means innocent; Xing and his people are everywhere on that end of town, too... but they didn't kill Garcia.
Bonnie: How d'ya know that?
Black: Same way I know it- watching what's going on out on the streets. Yakuza been makin' plays for everything... drugs, whores, gambling, human trafficking... even pro wrestling.
Richards: I have officially heard everything.
Nightmare: What are the chances you're blacked out right now, Alex?
[He considers for a moment.]
Richards: Fair to good.
Nightmare: Ok... just figured I should give everyone a side note on that comment.
Holmes: That's serious though... Yakuza tried to get me on at Puroresu, before they tried to clap irons on me.
[By body language alone, one could tell that Andre Holmes is unhappy with the Yakuza; by one's knowledge of Holmes alone, one can tell that this is a severe understatement. Oh, man, is it. If looks could kill...]
FPV: What kinda world are we in where the mob is running wrestling?
Phantasm: Frank... the mob has run everything at one point or another. And they usually do a pretty good job of things... just a bit iron-fisted, you know?
Bonnie: An' how much different is Yakuza Pro Wrestling from the Sanchez Administration, really? Everything's rotten to the core in this town.
Black: It's enough to make you wonder if the two aren't connected.
Armand: Your painted friend may be onto something... Sanchez' shock troopers have been sneaking around, and a little too close to Triad and Yakuza operations to be doing so on the slick...
Phantasm: Someone knows they're there.
FPV: You talking about the guys who look like me?
[Preecha points at Frank's face.]
Armand: Yep. Those guys in the gas masks... are you.
FPV: ALL OF THEM?
Phantasm: Fuck- this is not good.
Bonnie: If they're clones or something they-
Phantasm: -could remember everything Frank knows. Double fuck.
Nightmare: Bonnie, how much of Reb's memories do you have?
Bonnie: A lot more of 'em than I'm comfortable with an army of Franks having of his.
Black: That's just... fuck, way too many Franks. Like... infinity too many Franks.
FPV: Wouldn't that be... infinity minus one too many Franks?
[Corey just stares for a second.]
FPV: 'Cause like, there's the one Frank, and then-
Black: I understand how numbers work, Frank.
Holmes: That's cold. That man just told you he knows how numbers work-
FPV: Yeah... he's lucky I don't show him how numbers work when you're Frank fuckin' Venable!
[This impossibly tense moment is somewhat self-defusing... at least, that's the best way to describe the lazy slap-fight that breaks out between Corey Black and Frank Venable. Corey chucks an empty plastic cup, smacking Frank in the forehead; it rebounds off, amazingly landing right-side-up on the table. The humorous moment becomes an excited cheer.]
Holmes: No way you can do that again.
FPV: I... actually, I kinda want to see if he can do that again.
Black: Twenty bucks. Anybody in? 20 a piece I make this shot.
[Across the table, Armand leans into Preecha and Hophni as if giving counsel. Polar and Bonnie look on wondering what's brewing there... when Armand looks back over, he's very businesslike in demeanor. It's almost as if he's taking this meeting thing seriously.]
Armand: My friend Hophni's seen some things, too. Echoes of the past, he says...
[The mystic pipes up, knowing this is his chance to share his... findings?]
Hophni: Everything changed in May, even the way the past echoes through timespace. The future is not the future that was. The present is not the present that would have been. The past is not the past that it will be.
[Polar looks to Nightmare, then to Alex, then to Bonnie.]
Phantasm: I... got nothin'.
Bonnie: I think I get what he's saying- the Wave. It changed everything... past, present, future.
Nightmare: Right, but... past is not the past that will be?
Phantasm: That can't be right... unless...
Richards: Unless we're supposed to fix the past.
[The other Guardians (as well as Armand and Hophni) turn to Alex in surprise.]
Phantasm: ...holy shit, Alex.
Nightmare: Maybe there's something to this Pastafarian thing. It's delicious and enlightening.
[Bonnie can't help but giggle, recalling Alex's sacramental colander.]
Bonnie: All hail the Flying Spaghetti Monster for granting you such wisdom!
Richards: What? Sounded like a pretty easy riddle to me.
[Armand just shakes his head.]
Armand: The guy's like a fuckin' savant. I've never seen anybody... well, decode this guy! Amazing.
[Polar stands, nodding slightly to the Daughter of Time.]
Phantasm: Gotta have a little conference with my partner, but we'll be back in a sec... don't go anywhere, guys.
[As they duck off into the shadows about 25 feet away, they can hear Corey and Andre attempting to duplicate Corey's ridiculous feat of flinging.]
Bonnie: Is it just me, or is every clue we're finding pointin' worse an' worse places?
Phantasm: It's not just you. Comedian says Chicago, Chicago is going to hell. Hophni says we should look in the past-
Bonnie: -yeah, that's a small window. We can cover that in...
[Bonnie trails off, expecting Polar to have a line. Polar hangs there, waiting for an actual calculation.]
Bonnie: ...come on, partner, I set you up an' everything.
Phantasm: ...shit. Did I just whiff? Oof. Steee-rike. Take 2?
Bonnie: We can cover that in...
Phantasm: ...guessing ten thousand years. Or a hundred Sanchez promos, whichever comes first.
Bonnie: Yeah, that sounds about right. Way to catch the rebound.
Phantasm: It's what I do. Christ- Holmes with powers. He's the lightning guy!
Bonnie: Makes sense; you're the iceman, Crystal's the torch...
Phantasm: ...you're the time witch. And Alex is...
Bonnie: ...Alex. Or Alexa.
Phantasm: Alright, so it's not that weird. Still, talk about potential for destruction, though... that's...
[Polar leaves Bonnie an opening...]
Bonnie: ...a lot?
[Polar hangs his head.]
Bonnie: I froze! Damn. Gimme a second shot at it?
Phantasm: Talk about potential for destruction, though... that's-
Bonnie: -a truck full of napalm crashin' into a fireworks factory... made entirely out of C4.
Phantasm: Nailed it. Nailed it and spiked the football; fifteen yard penalty, but fuck it.
Bonnie: So, Armand...
Phantasm: Yeah, and Hophni... and Preecha.
Bonnie: Buried treasures, partner. With Jay off-planet, we could use a few more hands.
Phantasm: Shit, those cats are way more than 'hands'.
Bonnie: I know, right?
Phantasm: Let's talk to 'em after this. Come on; wanna wrap this up... I can tell Crystal's gettin' tired.
Bonnie: Of sleepin' in a bar?
Phantasm: Don't you know it.
[They get closer and closer to their party as their conversation continues.]
Bonnie: Oh, hey- we got a plan for the Stiletto match?
Phantasm: ...yeah, I thought I texted you. They go high- underscore, hatchback, bird-on-a-wire, check your zipper. They go low- bird-on-a-wire, fedora, defenestrator. Then if you're feeling it, friendship bracelets.
Bonnie: ...that's mean, Polar.
Phantasm: Hey... that's wrestling.
[They glance over to see the whole table watching their coded/jargon-filled/nonsensical strategy meeting.]
Black: That didn't sound like wrestling. That sounded like you were ordering from a restaurant run out of an insane asylum.
[Polar and Bonnie sit back down as murmured discussion picks back up.]
Phantasm: Alright, one more thing... taking on Sanchez might make for some strange bedfellows. We all have common interests in this fight... as well as a lot of others.
FPV: Damn right.
Holmes: Whole city!
Phantasm: I may reach out to some people who have issue with Sanchez' new policy... frighteningly powerful people.
Black: What, more supers?
Phantasm: No, not this time. I was thinking about calling the Vatican.
[As the gravity of this sets in, much of the assembly stands to leave.]
Phantasm: Yeah, probably a solid plan to stay out of that; hey, Armand, Hophni, Preecha; give us a sec, yeah?
[Bonnie and Polar look across the table at these three men, acquaintances become allies...]
Bonnie: We were thinkin' maybe you guys could use some work.
[Mimicking De La Fontaine's businesslike tone during the meeting, Phantasm delivers his pitch with a bit of a smirk.]
Phantasm: Have you ever considered a career with the Guardians?
--------------------------------------------------
WINDY CITY STORIES
Series conceived by Bonnie Blue, David Sanchez and the Polar Phantasm
Series directed by the Polar Phantasm
Episode Five: The Sloshed Pit Summit
Episode written by the Polar Phantasm
'The Guardians' created by Bonnie Blue, Jay Omega and the Polar Phantasm
'The Syndicate' created by David Sanchez and Taylor Wright
(Come home soon, Spaceman.)
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. Corey Black appears courtesy of our collective nightmares. All rights reserved.]
