Saturday, June 15, 2013

Wes Jackson vs. The Arrogant Prick

A popular scene from my novel "Action Figure" that has a tie-in to "Man of Steel"...sort of.  Hope you enjoy it.

A chapter excerpt from the avant-garde action adventure novel Action Figure.
Warning: Adult Language,Violence, and Mature Situations.

An arrogant looking prick of a villain was lurching over the woman in the driveway. 
As he whined on, there was something about the harsh, shrill, nasal tone of his voice that made my skin crawl with irritation. His stocky form was clad in a polo shirt and a pair of dress slacks. 
My blood began to boil as I watched him loom in closer to the woman, like some kind of lecherous, deviant, preppy thug. The woman tried stand her ground and give it right back.
“Get the fuck out of here now Nester, or you’re going have a real problem,” she said as she matched the prick shout for shout. 
Despite the woman’s strength of will, this jagoff was not going away that easy. 
As I rounded the corner of the house and approach the scene, I could see the murderous rage in his squinty eyes. 
“Oh, is that right bitch?” Nester the Arrogant Prick said as he lumbered in even closer to the woman. His body language threatened violence at any moment. “And who’s going to give me trouble, huh? You?” 
“No … that would be me,” I roared from across the driveway as I exploded onto the scene. 
I stopped about three feet away and stood in a statuesque “relaxed” muscular pose. I stared into the Arrogant Prick’s squinty eyes. I could see the sweetness of fear. Already the battle was mine. 
The Arrogant Prick ran to his car in a mad panic and popped his trunk open. Oh god not another hand gun. But instead, he came charging back toward me with a different weapon of choice—a golf club. 
He lunged toward me like a raving freak and let a wild a roundhouse swing slice through the air. He cackled out loud with a fuck you laugh of feigned superiority. “I got you now mother fucker. I’m going to make you wish you minded your own business.”
The Arrogant Prick’s eyes moved down toward my right hand. There was a mocking smirk on face. He laughed out loud. 
I looked down. I was still clutching the Superman action figure in my right hand. 
“What you going to do? Beat me up with your cute little toy,” he said in the mocking tone of fake baby language. 
“It is not a toy,” I said in my best Bull Mongoni base. “It’s a collectible action figure.” 
“What the fuck did you say?” the Arrogant Prick said as he cut loose another practice swing. 
The club sliced through the air only inches away from my face. I dared not flinch. 
“It is not a toy.” I said. “It’s a collectible Superman Kingdom Come action figure. And yes, I am going to beat you up with my action figure.” 
The now not so confident cackling laughter of Nester the Arrogant Prick filled the air before trailing off. This obnoxious asswipe was clearly thrown off by my searing confidence. 
An eternal moment of dense silence followed. I could feel every neuron receptor firing to life deep inside the core of my flesh. I took a second to relish the surge of euphoric adrenaline bathing over me. I was truly going to enjoy destroying this despicable fiend. 
I stared down my enemy. There was only one alpha male gorilla standing in this driveway, and it sure the hell was not this golf club swinging asshole standing before me. 
The Arrogant Prick pulled back his right elbow, squeezed the golf club with both his hands, and began to cock back in preparation for a mighty hack. 
It was a blow intended to decapitate me. But then something strange happened … something wonderful. Time seemed to slow down around me. I thought about how great athletes often talk about being in the zone, about how they see the playing field so clearly when the game slows down around them. I was in my zone now—the zone of revenge and redemption—the zone of rebirth and renewal. 
The Arrogant Prick’s motions were so deliberate, clumsy, and slow. There was an infinite span of micro-seconds for me to choose the moment of my counter blow. I launched myself forward while he was in the midst of setting up for the swing. 
With my left arm I grabbed him by the collar of his polo shirt to hold my target steady. I took my right hand and drove the action figureup into his beak of a nose. 
There was an explosion of blood. 
The golf club dropped to the ground as Nester the Arrogant Prick staggered toward his ragtop with the vanity plate that read "player". Next to it on the right bumper was an NRA shield. 
"You haven’t heard the last of this," he whimpered as he stumbled into his car and drove away. "I’ll kill you Christine. I’ll kill you both." 
The sound of his winding engine trailed off as my conquered enemy sped away down Tabitha Drive. 
I looked down at the Superman Kingdom Come action figure in my hand. Despite the assault, despite being descended upon by forces of evil, despite the fact that the plastic casing was smashed and dented—the action figure itself was still fully intact. 
As a matter of fact, it had never looked better. 
It was perfect. Wes jackson 5—fate 0.
Copyright 2008, 2013 James J. Caterino
All Rights Reserved

No comments:

Post a Comment