Spirit of 77 Season 2 Episode 3
Spirit of 77 S2E3: Time to Clean Your Junk
Starring
- Mike as Tom S Fisherman: I haven't stopped the drugs or cleaned them up, but I told the drug dealer's mom and I'm hoping that'll be enough.
- Stephen as Killian "Baphomet" Burque: If all the drugs in the city are tainted, how am I gonna get get lit?
After Fisherman got back to the bowling alley, Tony Lucia and his boys were already waiting for him.
"You's been tellin my ma that I've been hurtin the kids with this junk? How do you know it's really bad for people? Ain't nobody does this junk but the weirdos anyway," Tony Lucia stood in the living room area of Fisherman's loft, flanked by two large members of his gang.
"We've seen what it can do to people first hand," Tom said, "We aren't tryin to stop you from selling the junk. We just want to make sure it's clean junk."
"What makes you so sure that it messes people up? The weirdos seem pretty messed up to me to begin with," Tony did not seem to want to believe them that his drug supply was tainted.
"Well I'd had some and saw what it could do," Baphomet said, "Have one of your boys test it if you don't believe us? Cause I'm not gonna go along trying to help somebody that doesn't believe me."
Tony looked Baphomet up and down then snapped his fingers without breaking his stare. One of the two goons behind him stepped up and Tony handed him a baggy of drugs, "Try these out and you tell me if these two assholes are jerkin my chain and we got a couple of jokers on our hands or if we got a serious problem with the supply on our hands."
The goon took off his jacket, sat down on the chair, and begin to snort long lines of the drug off the coffee table. Within moments of the first line, the goon's arms felt to his sides slack, his jaw slung open and he started to drool.
When Tony tried to get his attention the goon just stood up and walked into a wall and kept trying to walk through it.
"Man that junk messed him up. What's wrong with him?"
Tom sat down at his desk, removed a bottle of x-tech 30 year old scotch whiskey and freed his mind to observe the goon. The goon's psychic energy was pulled from his head and into the sky. Tom watched it as he headed for the waterfront.
"They stole part of his soul. We need to find the beast that's collecting the energy and stop him from tainting the junk," Fisherman said as his eyes snapped back open.
Baphomet was lost in a drug flashback, his mind following the pyschic energy to the waterfront and watched as it slipped into the storm drains, "It's hiding in the storm drains."
"How'd he know that?" Tony Lucia seemed confused by all of this.
"Never mind that. You need to go get some artillery and some men to help us take this son of bitch down. Meet us at the waterfront in 2 hours," Tom said as he pushed Tony and the goons out the front door.
"We'll need to arm ourselves properly this time. I know a guy who can give me a trade show discount on a gun," Fisherman went to his desk to make some calls, "The biggest god damned hand cannon pistol you've got and meet me on the corner of 53rd and 3rd to drop it off. I am in a rush tonight."
As the pair headed out to the street, Fisherman realized they lost their ride last night and he was determined not to use public transportation. Instead called his editor to press his expense account to it's limits.
"Those sons of sewer rats owe me their livelihood," Tom announced as he listened to the phone ringing as soon as the editor picked up Tom launched into a passionate speech, "The only god damned circulation that crummy paper you have gets is to the people that wanna read my article before they use the rest of it to line hamster cages. I need a car to follow a story and I don't need any of your tightfisted bullshit. YOU HEAR ME?"
Baphomet could only hear Tom's side of the conversation: "Well yeah but-" "THAT WAS ONE TIME! Leave it to you to throw that in my face!" "I've got no idea where it is. You never said you'd need it back!" "YOU'LL GET YOUR GOD DAMNED CONTENT WHEN I GET MY GOD DAMNED STORY WHICH I NEED A CAR FOR!" "Okay, deal. He's sending something. It'll be hear soon."
A short time later, a man pulling a rickshaw showed up. He announced he was from the paper and meant to take them around town. The pair climbed aboard and after a short stop to pick up a big gun for Tom, then arrived at the docks.
They were early, so they started snooping around while they waited for Tony and his crew. It didn't take long to find the not so hidden dock that had the boat they'd seen at the drug delivery the night before moored at the end. Two small cloaked creatures walked down the dock and climbed inside the boat. One comes out carrying something and screeches at the one still in the boat.
"Let's go poke it with a stick," Tom says as he eases down to the dock, carefully trying unsuccessfully not to cause any of the wood soaked boards to make any creaking noises as they went.
Tom peeks his head into the boat and sees a flurry of claws, fur, and screeching coming at his face. The creature slashes at his face and knocks him onto his back. It leaps onto his chest and begins to slash at him.
Baphomet steps up to the creature and sliced it's belly open vertically spilling it's guts all over Fisherman. When the creature stops twitching they are able to see that it has huge claws and a mutated mole-like face.
As Baphomet was preparing to stab the dead creature in the dick, the headlights of a car pulling into the parking lot broke their focus. They climbed inside the boat to hide.
The inside was very dark, garbage everywhere, some dirty lab equipment, and two large radar screens where the windows should be. There seemed to be no way to see outside the boat from the inside. The hid as best they could out of sight as they heard the dock creaking under the weight of whoever was approaching.
From outside they heard two people talking to each other, "What da hell is that thing?! Why are it's guts everywhere?! I don't knows if we should go in there. Tony just said to see if they was down here. He never said nothing bout goin on the boat. I'm goin back and tellin him about dat thing with the guts."
Realizing they had been hiding from Tony's crew the pair rushed out to great the goons, "Heya fellas its-" Tom was cut off as the startled goons spun around and fired a round from their shotguns toward them.
Fisherman and Baphomet were lucky enough to dive for cover, but the two goons were on edge. They marched the pair at gunpoint back to the parking lot to have their boss Tony decide if they were telling the truth or not.
The two goons apologized to Tony before lowering their gaze and going to stand by the cars.
"So what've you fellas been busy with gettin here before us?" Tony asked as the doors opened and the rest of Tony's goons got out of the car.
"We got attacked by one of the creatures that worked on that boat you got your drop off from. Baphomet took care of it-"
"I gut it like a mother fucking fish," Baphomet interjected.
"Right, he gut it like a mother fucking fish. We checked out their boat and there was nothing on it, but there was a second one we saw head down into the storm drains. I say we head down there and find the little bastards and show them what they get for fucking with us," Fisherman said to try and rally the gang of goons but no one reacted.
Tony turned to look at the gang of goons and after a second a few of them clapped, before Tony turned back toward Fisherman.
"Good enough, let's go," Fisherman lead them all down into the tunnels.
One of the goons was able to spot a hidden alcove that had a stairway leading down. From the top of it they could hear chanting somewhere down below. The gang of goons all started to get nervous.
Fisherman and Baphomet leading the way down the spiral staircase. It seemed like it must have been a dozen floors worth of stairs by now. Steam from some deep utility tunnels was rising up along with the volume of chanting, making the spiral trip downwards almost dizzying.
At the bottom, they regrouped and realized they had reached some sort of ancient steam tunnels below the city. Following the sounds of chanting the group found a large hall filled with mole men. At one end 3 large machines that looked like school buses with drills on one end and rockets on the other. There was a man dressed in a green suit whose body seemed to be made of smoke standing with his back to the crowd of mole people. He was talking about rising up to the surface and reclaiming surface rights for themselves.
Baphomet was done waiting in the shadow. He jumped out into the center of the room, then up a sonic blast of sweet sweet sitar licks. The mole people became entranced with Baphomet's amazing explosion of jazz sitar fusion. This gave Fisherman an open shot at the smokey gentleman in the green suit.
The first shot misses, but Fisherman is quick with the trigger and land a hit to what he assumed would be his rib-cage. The man didn't seem to notice except to comment that his suit was ruined.
The sound of Fisherman's very loud gun, and the yelling about a ruined suit from their leader, snaps some of the mole people out of the trance they had been in. They instantly move to attack Fisherman.
Tony and his crew ran out the moment the action started. When Baphomet went out and started playing sitar like a madman they took the opportunity to get the hell out unnoticed.
Tom is firing away at the mole people that are trying to reach him to land an attack, spending untold numbers of rounds, but keeping the little creatures at bay. Baphomet uses the distraction to head for the tunnel machines. A quick dodge here, a fast duck there, and he was at his goal without running getting caught up with any danger.
Using his electrical field Baphomet fries the circuitry of two of the tunnel machines and heads for the third.
Before he can get within range a suit falls in front of him as a tunnel of smoke pours in to fill it, "Nice to finally meet you Mr Burque. In the flesh that is, I've been hanging out in your head all day," he taps the side of Baphomet's head as he the words.
"Enough games. Let's deal, smoke man. Drinking contest between T.S. Fisherman and whatever the fuck you're supposed to be. If we win, no invasion and we walk free. I fry the ship and you and your piece of shit mole people can get jobs like the rest of us that migrate to this city and want a little piece of the god damned pie. If you win, I won't fry your last tunnel machine and you can have your way with us."
The smoke man's eyes turned into pits of fire as his flaming grin spread, "Well I do love a deal and you thing your friend can out drink me? Sounds like a great deal to me. Hope your elbow's loose."
The smoke man tells the mole people to prepare. Fisherman is collected and strapped to a chair and made to wait while the mole people bring in a table and a large chair for the smoke man.
"Pour 'em up, Smoker's Breath," Fisherman was feeling thirsty anyway.
The smoke man went first and took the shot quickly. Fisherman took his down without flinching.
"Well done Mr Fisherman. I see that Mr Burque is not the only one with an unnatural tolerance. Most mortals die on the first drink. Shall I pour another?" said the smoke man.
"God damned right you will. I'd better be dead before I let the lot of you move in and take the piece I carved out of the city for me. Fuck the lot of you. Pour it."
The smoke man poured a second round. Tom matched him again without flinching. he did so for the third through twelfth drink either.
"Make the next one a double you pink bellied smoke signal," Fisherman said as he slammed down his glass.
The smoke man had trouble keeping his hands steady to pour, but managed to get Fisherman's glass full before he collapsed into his seat dropping the bottle to the floor.
Tom matches him drink for drink. Finishes with a double. Downs the double in one go
"Who the hell are you?" the smoke man mumbled at them
"Eeeyy, if you don't know me you can blow me," Fisherman said as he finished his drink, flipped the table over, and started to trash the lab area, "Baph fry that drill thing. Let's go home. These steam tunnels smell like dinosaur farts."
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