M.A.S.K:
"THE LITTLE THAT REMAINS"
WRITTEN BY ZARIUS
DISCLAIMER: M.A.S.K and all related characters are trademarked by Kenner Toys and Cookie Jar Entertainment
Just a small short piece I wrote to kick off 2014 and get some activity going in this section again. Enjoy and happy new year
Matt Trakker looked at the footage again. The influx of visual evidence, the bold and black text of newspaper clippings, the endless talking heads of newsreaders as they went over the same points again and again.
All while a black stain on a wall in suburban Manhattan covered all the photos and visual records he had been studying in this last few hours. A piece of intimidating and provocative graffiti with lettering that invited one of the world's most covert crime fighting organizations, an organization that had been enjoying the permanent thrills of what had been initially a hiatus.
Matt's son Scott soon waltzed in with a piping hot mug of coffee. He put it down on the console next to his father and waved his hand in front of him, trying to avert his glazed gaze from the main computer screen
"Tired dad?" he said
"Of many things son. Of many things" Matt replied
"Care to tell me more?" Scott asked.
"Nothing to concern yourself with" Matt said.
"Everyone tells me that nowadays" Scott said, slightly annoyed, "You, T-Bob, the Turners, everyone except my girl seems to think I should finally take some advice and stay put in my own little safety net while everyone else ventures into the danger zone. I don't work that way, never have, I'm a pretty looking pro-activisms and my looks can kill if I'm pointed in the right direction"
"You're not James Bond son. None is. Not at our age. We're much too old to be dealing with your boundless enthusiasm, this is your time to be an adult rather than force us to hold your hand"
"Ah what could I possibly need to hold on to anything for? We can handle everything, we're M.A.S.K" Scott replied
Matt stared at the imagery, the coiled stance and depiction of a snake with a very distinct difference...instead of a rattling tail, it had the stinger of a scorpion.
"Yes. And then there's V.E.N.O.M" Matt said
"That can't be, Mayhem's not in charge anymore, he went over that waterfall remember? He hit the rocks, we recovered him, he was battered from the impact, he's been lying in a coma in a prison ward ever since" Scott replied
"Staring into that foamy silver and blue abyss, that cauldron of jagged jewels, it filled me with a twin sensation, a hybrid of hope and horror, I don't know what the latter was more for, Miles or my reflection of my own self-respect being eroded as I gave into the former sensation, that of hope his nightmare was ended" Matt said, "But there are other factors, other people who shared in his wilful and ambitious plans, heavies who followed his education to an exact science. One such student seems to be eager to rise to the role of teacher"
"Like who?" Scott said
"Bruno 'Mad Dog Sheppard' seems to be a 'taker, and he wants us to be a giver" Matt replied, analyzing the imagery.
"How do you figure it's Bruno leading the pack this time?" Scott said
"Because that image was drawn using his own blood, the DNA analysis just came in this morning, it's spread across the news"
"He poured pints of blood into that work...and he's still up for a fight with you guys?" Scott said, "He must drink a lot of this" he added, looking at the coffee.
"No doubt it took a lot out of him. No doubt he thinks it doesn't matter so long as he makes a good impression. And he's done so. It's hit twitter, tumblr, the whole deal. Viral. No doubt there. So little doubt..." Matt said, his eyes fixed on the coffee mug, he steadily picked it up and downed the piping concoction into his mouth
"Careful, it's roasting" Scott said
"I have to play about with fire Scott" Matt said, "They have no doubt, and I have no choice"
"Assemble the teams best suited?" Scott said enthusiastically
"The little that remains" Matt said, before getting up, rubbing Scott's hair, giving him a firm hug, and moving towards the transport that would take him to Boulder Hill
Scott looked on at him proudly. In a time of changing tastes, changing attitudes to life, as the world evolves in technologies and philosophies, takes one step forward and two steps back, in a world where no doubt exists, and no choices are necessary, one thing remained clear as crystal to him.
The illusion of change was constant in his father, as was his insight into what was needed to preserve reality.