TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE DUKE MANFIST SAVED CHRISTMAS EPISODE TWO

by PHIL ELMORE

LEAGUE ENTERTAINMENT Tampa, FL

Written by Phil Elmore Published by League Entertainment This is a work of ction. Names, characters, places and incidents, even those based on real people, are either the product of the authors imagination or are used ctitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2011 by League Entertainment, LLC. Created by Phil Elmore, John Jackson & Ken Chapman Cover and Interior Art by Johnny Atomic Duke Manst and its characters are trademarks of League Entertainment, LLC Printed in the United States of America 1

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE DUKE MANFIST SAVED CHRISTMAS, EPISODE 02: 364 DAYS LATER he enormous HUMWAY assault vehicle, which resembled nothing so much as a city bus humping the leg of a dump truck cradled in the arms of an armored personnel carrier, belched blue smoke as it lurched to a halt amidst the throngs of Occupy Nondescript Metro Area protestors. The gigantic moreterrain tires (so named because they were capable of traversing more terrains than all the terrains that had yet been discovered) narrowly missed crushing a tent labeled, Information. The HUMWAY promptly reversed course, turned slightly, and crushed the tent into the lthy asphalt. Several equally lthy hippies ran screaming from the tent moments before the HUMWAY attened it. The big man who climbed from the drivers seat of the HUMWAY wore camouage pants tucked into heavy combat boots. A stainless steel wristwatch the size of a diving helmet was strapped to his left wrist. His black muscle-shirt strained at the edges of his tremendous biceps, while his equally tremendous pot-belly threatened to burst the shirt at the belt line. His belt buckle was the size of a manhole cover and shaped like an eagle taking ight. On his head, nestled in his perfectly tousled dark hair, sat a pair of black-on-black Ray-Ban style sunglasses. His face was made of granite and his chin was so strong he lifted weights with it. His hands were the size of hams. He was the manliest action hero who had ever walked the Earth. His name was Duke Manst. Duke was joined by his partner, Ken Goodspeed, who climbed from the HUMWAY and looked around nervously. Goodspeed was on loan from an ofce-temporary agency and had not yet grasped the import of the paperwork he had signed. He had, in fact, answered an advertisement through his agency for seasonal clerical work at Secret Headquarters, the organization established by 1

the Shadow Government to support Duke Manst in his ongoing punching of evil wherever it lurked. No sooner had young Goodspeed entered the building, concealed within a decrepit amusement park fun house, than Doctor Coplawyer had sprung his trap. Coplawyer, who acted as Secret Headquarters police liaison, chief medical ofcer, on-call psychotherapist, optometrist, documentation specialist, union representative, legal advisor, accountant, and operations coordinator, was forever insisting that Duke Manst travel in the company of a partner. The problem was that Dukes partners had an alarmingly brief lifespan once they became his partners. The paperwork Coplawyer had each man sign not only legally changed the mans name to Ken Goodspeed for the duration of his assignment otherwise, Duke would have to learn and remember hundreds of new names per year but committed the volunteers incontrovertibly to the service of the Shadow Government until they were released. The contract was, once signed, ironclad, even if signed under duress or through misrepresentation. Coplawyer had rened the legal verbiage of the forms through the years to make certain of that. As Secret Headquarters penchant for using up volunteers from other branches of service became known through the covert agency community, personnel willing to act in the capacity of Duke Mansts partner had become harder and harder to nd. Coplawyer had turned to a variety of inventive and ever-more deceitful methods to ll the berth in the HUMWAYs passenger seat. Among these deceits, tricking an ofce temp into signing the Goodspeed contract was arguably the least offensive. The P.R.O.B.E. with which each Goodspeed was subsequently equipped was... well, slightly more so. Coplawyer had originally had Duke Manst himself equipped with a 2

Personal Rectal Observation and Benchmark Equalizer. The device sent to Secret Headquarters a real-time telemetry identifying the subjects location, vital signs, and sphincter dilation. It was a means of tracking the ongoing status and closeness-to-being-horribly-killed of Secret Headquarters eld operative, but when Duke learned of the devices presence, he had insisted it be removed.

Coplawyer had chosen not to have the P.R.O.B.E. reinserted in Duke Manst, mostly because Duke Manst had threatened to punch him deaf and blind were he to make the attempt. Doctor Coplawyer had thus wisely chosen to P.R.O.B.E. the Goodspeeds, who were decidedly less likely to pummel him with their sts until his sinuses lled with a paste comprising the jellied bone of his own skull. The expense of the seldom-recovered P.R.O.B.E. units was considerable, but he had arranged for a discount now that he was buying them in bulk. It was, all in all, a satisfactory solution. Except that his Blueberry went off every time one of the Goodspeeds died. He had been forced to put the device on silent. Hes very tense, Coplawyer told Duke Manst through the Greentooth headset Manst wore in one ear. You should do your best to reassure Ken 3

Goodspeed that his contributions to the organization are valuable. If you afrm him, you will empower him. No takers, Nancy, Duke growled. He ripped the Greentooth from his ear and icked it into the crowd, where it lodged in the throat of a shouting hippie. The other demonstrators, waving signs and chanting in unison, did not notice as the young man with the greasy beard and lth-encrusted dreadlocks went down, clutching his throat. Who was that you were talking to? Goodspeed asked, nervously straightening the collar of his polo shirt. He wore business casual attire as directed by his temp agency. His khaki slacks were permanent press. He had refused a gun when offered one by Coplawyer. The pencil-neck from Secret Headquarters, Duke said. He raised one thick palm to shield his eyes as he stood on his tip-toes, scanning the crowd. He forgot to sign my time card, Goodspeed said. We got bigger problems, Nancy, said Duke. He turned to Goodspeed. Wheres your gun? Why would I need a gun? Goodspeed said. I dont think your supervisor understands The Doc aint my supervisor, Manst said. He just gives out the assignments. Doesnt that make him your I said, Duke Manst growled, hes not my boss. I answer to the President. You report to President Bar No, dummy, Manst sneered. Not that tool. The real president. The Shadow President of the Shadow Government. Ive never heard of that, Goodspeed said. Wouldnt be much of a secret if you had, would it, Mary? 4

Which is it? What? Duke asked. Nancy or Mary? Duke paused. He rubbed his chin for a moment and looked down at Goodspeed as throngs of protestors surged around them, screaming and waving signs and scratching at eas. Finally, Duke said, You want me to slap em? Them? Your nads. Because I will if you gimme any more backtalk, Susan. I dont understand, Goodspeed said. You sure dont, Manst said. Ill explain this once, Alice. You do what I say. You stay outta my way. You help if you can. Flaming arrow. What? Goodspeed said, perplexed. Duke Manst sighed, reached out, and shoved Goodspeed to the pavement. A aming arrow arced over the mans body. It would have pierced his neck had he been standing. Was that... is someone trying to kill me? Those are almost always meant for me, Duke said. Who shot it? Doesnt matter. It happens. Focus, Betty. Im an ofce temp! Goodspeed shrieked. Im supposed to be sorting les and sending faxes! I was going to play Minesweeper on my lunch hour! Half hour, Duke said. What? Secret Headquarters allots a half-hour for lunch. Well thats just great! Goodsped screamed. Why did that man you say isnt your boss make me sign those papers? Why did he try to give me a gun, too? Why are we here in the middle of a near-riot? Why does this parking lot smell 5

like pee? Who are you? Duke Manst sighed. It was going to be a long Shouldnt we nd whoever shot that aming arrow? Goodspeed said. I dont follow up on the little stuff, Manst said. Down with greed! screamed one of the protestors. He had hair to his shoulders, wore a three-hundred-dollar ski jacket, and obviously hadnt bathed in weeks. Duke Manst got a good whiff of the protestor as the man approached, waving his sign. Manst wrinkled his nose and backed up a pace, waving his big st in front of his nose. Yeeaarrggh, Manst said. You smell like you slept inside a dead guy who slept in his clothes. DOWN WITH GREED! chanted the nearest throngs of people. We demand free health care! the protestor screamed. WE DEMAND FREE HEALTHCARE, the mob repeated. The protestor reached up to scratch at his scalp. Dozens of his fellow protestors began to close ranks, arraying themselves behind the ea-bitten hippie yelling at Manst. Their signs had been professionally printed. They bore a variety of anti-corporate, anti-capitalism, pro-Communist slogans. Pictures of Che and hammers and sickles abounded. The printed mottos were all variations on a theme, which Manst expressed as he surveyed the mob. Gimme, gimme, gimme, he said. GIMME, GIMME, GIMME, chanted the protestors. Mister Manst, said Ken, these people are scratching themselves like Like leopards in an Ivy League forest? Manst said. Uh... do you mean lepers? Sure. In a forest of poison ivy? Goodspeed said. 6

Them too, Manst said, frowning. Everybody shut up and back off, Manst announced, holding up his massive arms. The Shadow President has ordered me to re-purse you. Disperse, Goodspeed corrected. Should you be talking about the secret government? Shut it, Jenny, Manst shot back. EVERYBODY SHUP UP, BACK OFF, SHADOW PRESIDENT, chanted the protestors. Wow, thats really annoying, said Duke. WOW THATS REALLY ANNOYING, repeated the mob. MIKE CHECK. MIKE CHECK. Mister Manst, Goodspeed said, Im kind of a civil libertarian at heart. Dont these people have a right to protest? Protest, yes, Manst said. Poop eas all over the city, no. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of paper. This is a public health citation, he said. PUBLIC HEALTH CITATION, repeated the protestors, scratching at themselves furiously. That might be lice, not eas, Goodspeed said helpfully. Thanks, Carol, Manst said. Youre a real help. More loudly, he said, You got, like, twenty seconds to get the heck out of here. Or Im gonna have to make you leave. Youre wasting your time, Goodspeed said. Ive been watching this on the news. The cops came buy and asked the protestors very nicely to go. They said no. Manst stared at him. Asked them? They even said please, Goodspeed nodded. 7

THEY EVEN SAID PLEASE, chanted the protestors. Redistribution! screamed the hippie in the three-hundred-dollar ski jacket. He took out his own Blueberry and began to type on it with one thumb, wagging his sign with the other hand. The sign said, TAKE FROM THE RICH AND GIVE TO THE POOR. Duke took out his ip phone and reluctantly dialed it. Coplawyer picked up on the rst ring. Why do I hear nothing but choking noises through the Greentooth? Coplawyer demanded. Skip it, Nancy, Manst said. Why didnt you tell me the cops tried and failed to unpurse this crowd? Their hands were tied, Coplawyer said. They can hardly be expected to use force. After all, the protests are union-run, and the cops are all in... well, the same union. Nobody thought that might be a problem? Duke demanded. There are certain complicated exigencies, Coplawyer began. Save it, Nancy, Manst said. But did you ask them to disperse? Yeah, Manst said. They aint going. Well then our work at Occupy Nondescript Metro area is done, Coplawyer said. Any further action on our parts would risk a lawsuit, not to mention several hundred union grievances, and we simply RE-DIS-TRIB-UTE, RE-DIS-TRIB-UTE, chanted the crowd. TAKE AND GIVE, TAKE AND GIVE. Agent Manst, Coplawyer said, I am ordering you and Goodspeed back to headquarters. Also, Goodspeeds sphincter dilation is up 30 percent. Is he Doc, Manst said, You have got to be kidding me. He shot a glance at 8

Goodspeed, who was being menaced by a pair of Occupy protestors who seemed intent on raping him. Duke, Coplawyer said, the P.R.O.B.E. indicates Goodspeed is being menaced by individuals who are intent on raping him. Doc, Manst said, why are we letting this happen? Its free speech, Coplawyer insisted. Agent Manst, Im ordering you to rescue Agent Goodspeed and return to Secret Headquarters. Im all for everybody getting their freak on, Manst said, but Goodspeeds about to get his butt occupied. That isnt any free speech I know about. Do not, I repeat, do NOT apply violence to this situation, Coplawyer ordered. Doc, Manst said, Im not gonna apple anybody with violence. Im just going to do some... redistributing. He crushed his ip-phone into powder, turned to face the mob of protestors, and reached up to lower his sunglasses on his eyes. Somewhere in the crowd, Ken Goodspeed was suddenly swamped by a pack of protestors. The last sight Duke had of his partner was of Goodspeeds hand reaching desperately up from the stack of men and women piling on top of him. Dukes back-up phone began vibrating. He picked it up and looked at the display. Coplawyer had sent a text message: GOODSPEEDS PROBE REGISTERS EXTREME LOCALIZED BUTTOCKS DISTRESS. Not my fault, Duke Manst said. Raising his voice and lowering his chin, he shouted to the protestors, Repeat after me, you lthy hippie dipwads, REPEAT AFTER ME, said the mob, YOU FILTHY HIPPIE DIPWADS. Im, said Duke. IM, said the protestors. Gonna make you pay, said Duke. 9

GONNA MAKE YOU PAY, said the mob. ...WITH MY FIST! Duke roared. WITH MY FIST! screamed the mob. Catchphrase? shouted a heckler from within the crowd. Ow! said Duke Manst. My eyes! Oh God, I forgot how to do math! Mommy? It hurts so much! Please stop hitting me! Where did you even get a banjo? Its full of stars! I cant hear the pumpkin wedges through the permanent brain damage! My legs! I cant feel my legs! OW... the crowd began. As the suddenly very menacing form of Duke Manst approached the mob, the protestors stopped speaking. They turned to each other and then back to the hulking action hero bearing down on them. Run! someone screamed. Oh, youre sure gonna repeat it, said Duke Manst. Youre gonna repeat all of it. And oh, sure did they. THIS AINT OVER...

10

About The Author

Phil Elmore grew up reading his fathers collection of Mack Bolan novels. As a teenager, he had no idea that he would one day ghost-write more than a dozen entries in Harlequin Enterprises long-running Executioner series. Today, Phil publishes ction and nonction on a variety of topics, through multiple outlets, including his own publishing company, Samurai Press. A technical writer by trade, Phil Elmore is also the Senior Editor of League Entertainment, an Intellectual Property development company based in Florida.