A third shot went down Ulysses' throat, not even touching his tongue and he slammed the glass upside down on the Texas bar top like a pro.
"No! You piece of $#&%! We said 15%! 15% or no go!" A bar patron ranted, not dissuading the truck driver from putting back another.
"You dare meddle with me, the great Doctor Demonicus!"
The man in the magenta, blue, and white demon getup with the cape was getting louder as he stood up and proclaimed his villainous name. Sure, The Dry Hump was a bar for the lower elements of society but Ulysses "US" Solomon Archer just wanted to drink in peace. He didn't need some spandex wearing nut getting the place into a fuss over some deal gone south.
US ordered a white russian. He'd sip at it for a while then head out. He was a few days ahead on his Earth-side delivery, taking a few weeks off from the intergalactic scene after the incident with the Kree. Hauling goods and drinking Bud was good for the soul so he thought of this as a bit of a vacation for him.
"No no no! I won't touch that stuff for anything less than 15%!"
A sound, not unlike that of a kid's you ray-gun, went off and US sment ozone and burning flesh. With a sigh US slowly spun on his stool to see what was going on. The ridiculously attired Doctor Demonicus had just smoked some poor sucker with a high-tech looking gun. US was unimpressed- it didn't hold a candle to the "kill-death canons" of Saturious-14. Now THOSE things killed you dead. This just didn't have the same "flair". The confederates of what was now a smoking crater at the table all seemed up in arms over the disintegration of their friend. If US had a dollar for every time he was in a bar fight he didn't start...
Moments after his white russian arrived, sure enough, the dingy little south Texas bar exploded into one of the fiercest impromptu brawls you ever did see. US sat, calm as a dog in a ray of sun, and just sipped his white russian. A few guns discharged, the raygun vaporized a poor sod or two, and as soon as it started it came to an end. There were a few injured, two dead, and not a man in the room who didn't at least have a shiner- well... except US and the bartender (and no one hits a bartender if they ever want to drink again). The toxic mix of drunks and fists has settled because Doctor Demonicus had pulled out a rapidly beeping sphere with a lot of blinking red lights that looked an awful lot like a bomb.
"FOOLS! BOW TO ME! YIELD! CEASE YOUR SQUABBLING AND BEHOLD! MY NEGA-TRON DETONATOR! WITH IT I CAN VAPORIZE ALL LIFE IN 12 SQUARE MILES AND LEAVE THIS BUILDING UNTOUCHED!"
Finishing his white russian, US slipped a $50 to the bartender who nodded and he got up off his stool. He fished out a well-worn quarter from his wallet when he paid for his bill and began to rub it unconsciously. The smeared face of Washington on it told of the thousands of times he'd practiced this habit. He walked over to the far wall where Doctor Demonicus was preaching. The gaudily clad super villain looked him up and down disapprovingly as he approached.
"WHO DARES APPROACH THE GREAT DOCTOR DEMONICUS!"
US itched his nose with one finger in an annoyed fashion, then rubbed the back of his neck to complete the picture of anxiety,
"Firs' off. It's a nega-train particle reaction. Nega-tron ain't a thing." Came US's uneducated, preachy, sounding southern drawl.
The mad scientist looked quite taken aback. How could this scruffy looking trucker know about nega-train particle reactions?! He'd only discovered it recently after month of studying the discarded remains of an alien warship he bought on the black market.
"Secon' off. Yer interrupting this fair place of business with yer' nonsense. They can't rightly serve patrons if you are kill'en folk' all the time. So let's say I buy you a drink and you-"
"FOOL! THE GREAT DOCTOR DEMONICUS DOES NOT CRAVE LIBATIONS!"
US ducked his head a little to show just how annoyed but still willing to talk he was.
"Ok ok ok then chief. Third point. How you' gonna' to set off a nega-train particle reaction, which as you pointed out destroys all life and leaves the buildings intact, if you are holding it."
"I-... THE..."
"Thought so. So you are pretty useless."
"THE GREAT DOCTO-"
"Yeah yeah. Great doctor whatever. Know what else people think are useless? Coins. Folks want to get rid of them. Me? No way. There is somethin'... I don't know. Kinda 'right' 'bout holding onto a metal chip- sump'ten kina' real about it." US said holding up his well-worn quarter and rubbing his thumb over the surface of it out of nervous habit.
"FOOL! WHAT MATTER ARE COINS?! I SHALL DESTROY YOU! MY SUIT IS INSULATED AGAINST NEGA-TRAIN PARTICLE REACTIONS!"
"Now now big guy- I'm getting somewhere. Don't interrupt. Now, coins are useful. You can use them to open a beer, weigh things down, do magic tricks; they were a great toy as a kid. I used ta' go diving for them."
"FOOL! I SHALL-"
"And ones like this- they can be just the perfect place to install a remote control system for your truck. All innocuous."
"I CARE NOT FOR YOUR PATHETIC COINS! I DEMAN-... what?"
"Beep beep mothertrucker."
US said this playful little line with a wink before he dove sideways, grabbing the Nega-train bomb from Doctor Demonicus as a semi's horn blared from the other side of the wall. A big rig, breaks squealing, exploded through the back wall and laid out Doctor Demonicus. Standing up from the carnage, US flicked a switch and the bomb shut off.
US shook his head, opening the door to the cabin and tossing the disarmed bomb inside. The shocked patrons looked at the clean hole the semi's front had punched in the building and nothing more.
"Sorry 'bout the hole. Al. Put it on his tab... oh yeah, and next round's on him." US said, adding another wink before adjusting his hat and backing up.
Good for the soul. That's what this Earth trip was. Damn straight.
Author's Notes:
I love old, campy, obscure, comic characters and US Ace has always had a special place in my heart. For those who don't know of Ulysses Solomon Archer- he was a character published in the 70s in a series called "US 1" to promote a series of truck toys. It stared "US", a genius inventor who followed in his brother's footsteps by becoming a truck driver. This is because US's brother, Jefferson, was killed while giving him a ride in his truck. The pair were pushed off the road by the legendary "Blackrig". US survived his injuries and basically got a plate in his brain. US used his engineering skills to trick out his truck like he was Q giving James bond a new car. This included a coin he could use to steer his truck with. What followed was some of the most absurd comic nonsense you've ever heard of. It involves blimps, chickens, aliens, hot air balloons, and eventually US became a space-trucker. He occasionally pops up in Marvel as an oddity but they haven't done WHOLE lot with US in a long time. In this version we see US as an older (later 30s? Early 40s?), somewhat world-weary, genius, Southern, space-trucker. I hope to write more absurd stories about US and his truck, but I'll admit I wrote most of this just to use the line "Beep beep mothertrucker".