Meet Grandpa Anarchy. He was originally a character I made in the early days of CoH, sometime in 2004. I made him on the Infinity server, but I later made a new version of him on Virtue as well. For some reason the character always appealed to me, even though I didn't really play him.
I had a whole slew of things he could say, keybinded to the nine number pad keys, so I could toss them out as he fought. I had fun with that.
Years later I wrote some stories about Grandpa Anarchy and read them to my writer's group. They're short and meant to be silly and over-the-top. I've never published them or shown them to anyone else, but now seems like a good idea. So without further ado I give you:
Doomed
M A Davis
Dressed in his usual gray suit and fedora, Grandpa Anarchy sat behind a wooden desk that looked like it might have been previously used as a battering ram. Piles of stained paper covered the surface, amid which could be seen several mugs half-filled with coffee and an overfull ash tray.
Beside him was a young boy in glasses and a form-fitting suit of dark blue. Faintly visible on the suit were mathematical formulas, etched in a glowing script. He was working feverishly at a small laptop.
In front of the desk stood a strange man with green hair and a purple lycra outfit. Stitched on the chest was the image of a clock.
“The world’s full of heroes, son,” Grandpa Anarchy said. “Are you sure I’m the only one can do it?”
“That’s right,” the clock man said. “Nobody else.”
” Seems an awfully long way to come, just to find me....”
“I had no choice.”
“Isn’t there... you know... another... someone like me....”
‘He’s dead. You’re our only hope, now.”
Grandpa Anarchy glanced to his left. Four people sat on a nearby couch. One wore a form-fitting mirror-like silver suit that covered everything, including his hands and face. Another was dressed like a wild west gunfighter, and a third was a tall and very skinny man in a suit of green and purple plaid. The last appeared to be in every way a Victorian gentleman, save for the fact that he was a gorilla.
Beyond the couch stood at least a dozen more oddly-dressed men and women.
“Wonderful,” Grandpa said. “That's just great. Fantastic.”
“So then you’ll do it?” The clock man looked hopeful.
“I’ve... ah... got a few prior commitments....” Grandpa began.
With a soft “pop”, three more people appeared. One of them stepped forward immediately. He was a soldier in a very elaborate dress uniform of pink and orange, like something out of an Ozian fairy kingdom.
"Grandpa Anarchy, I presume?” he said briskly. “My name is Lord Kip, and I've come on a mission of utmost importance."
"No, don't tell me,” Grandpa said. “Let me guess. The universe is going to end?"
The strange soldier blinked in surprise. "Why yes, how did you know?
“Just a wild guess,” Grandpa said. He turned to the next person, who also looked like an otherworldly fantasy soldier, albeit a soldier of Hell itself. His uniform was black and red, with many bright silver spikes.
The hellish soldier bowed low. “Greetings, Sir Anarchy. I am Baron-Who-Cares-For-Pets. I am my world’s foremost science villain.”
“Science villain?” Grandpa asked.
The man nodded. “In light of the current threat, I have set aside my grievances. I come here as a representative of my entire world….”
“Kind of a funny name for a villain, ain’t it?”
The Baron’s eyes flashed. “You have not seen my pets.”
“Oh, very well, so your universe is doomed and only I can save it, right?”
“Succinctly put, Sir.”
Grandpa nodded. He glanced to the third new arrival, a woman completely encased in ocher slime – or perhaps a slime creature that was attempting to female. “Your story’s the same?” Grandpa asked.
“Doomed my race is,” the slime woman replied. “Come you must. Only hope you are.”
The boy with the laptop wrinkled his nose. “Ew, she’s all slimy… and she smells….”
“Now, Kid Calculus,” said Grandpa, “as heroes we should never judge others, no matter how disgusting they may be.”
Placing his palms on the desk, the clock man leaned forward. Stained pages drifted to the ground. "Grandpa Anarchy, I must insist! This is a matter of life and death! Not just for me, but for...
“Your entire universe,” Grandpa replied. “Yeah, I heard ya. My advice, Bub, is you sit down and relax."
"We have no time! We must travel to my universe now!"
“You don't say? Take a number, kid."
The Victorian gorilla smiled and held up a small piece of paper. “I must insist that I was here first,” he said.
Grandpa turned to Kid Calculus. “How many is that so far?”
“Forty-seven,” the kid replied. “And that’s just within the last hour.”
“Forty-seven?” the clock man choked. “But... but there’s no time....”
“You’re the genius here, kid,” said Grandpa. “How many can there be?”
“Logically speaking,” said Kid Calculus, “there are an infinite number of universes. However, only a very tiny fraction could possibly be in danger of imminent destruction, where you are the only person who can stop it.”
“Good,” said Grandpa. “That’s good.”
“Not really,” said Kid Calculus. “A fraction of infinity is still an infinite number. Its quite possible that the number of universes that require your help is infinite.”
“Tarnation,” the gunfighter said. "We’re all plumb screwed, aren’t we?”
“Not necessarily.” Grandpa Anarchy stood. “Okay, monkey,” he said. “Time’s a wastin’. Let’s go.”
The gorilla leaped to his feet and saluted. “At once, good Sir! And may I extend my thanks from the citizens of my entire world.. nay, my entire universe....”
“Grandpa,” Kid Calculus said, “I don’t think you fully grasp the….”
“Nonsense, kid,” said Grandpa Anarchy. “There’s only one way to save an infinite number of universes, and that’s one at a time.”
With a soft “pop”, Grandpa Anarchy and the Victorian Gorilla vanished.
Baron-Who-Cares-For-Pets stepped forward. “I’ll take a number,” he said.
“But,” the clock man said. “It’s not possible....”:
The Baron raised an eyebrow. “To save an infinite number of universes? Of course it isn’t.” He held up his piece of paper. “But I’m only number 48....”
FINI
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