Josh Earns his Burritos
by Micah Faulkner
The embers settle on the roof of the school-bus, the parking lot, a book bag. Josh brushes coals frantically from his neck in fear they will scurry into his T-shirt, bitching. The movie theater spouts black and grey smoke form the easternmost corner from the gaping and craggy hole blown in it.
"What the fuck was that?" Josh yells from his sanctuary: the wheel-well of bus number four.
"It was a bomb Josh, what do you think?" the armored man hovering some twenty feet away says. There are fiery plumes of propellant coming from the man's feet, keeping him afloat.
"Why would someone bomb the multiplex? I mean, what good could that do?"
"Calm down Josh. Everything happens for a reason," the flying man assures. He pivots his helmed head from Josh to the direction of the building. People are fleeing the emergency exits, but not very many. It had been a matinee that Tony and Josh were seeing. Josh had thought of it as a date.
Tony fires up his visual analyzers. The infrared comes up first showing mostly just a bunch of bright illegibility. He figured this would be. Next the radar and sonar tandem scan. This brings back some good results. He can see the seats of the theater now and the last few people scurrying out of the building. He keeps this analyzer on in a drop-down window in his visor and turns back to Josh using regular eyesight as his priory.
"It was probably terrorists, Iron Man. You are a member of the Avengers, you know. Our date was no secret," Josh shouts from behind his vantage. "Where did the bomb come from? Inside the theater?"
Josh Dahl and Tony Stark had been on a radio promotion date to see the new Piglet Movie. Neither of them particularly cared to see the film. It was appropriate, the station, WIDR, deemed, since Tony was considered an icon of wholesome Americana. Much of their time was spent, not watching the film, but in the form of a "Q and A" session. Josh pressed for specifics on various achievements of Tony's, about what Captain America and Wonder Man were 'really like', and for details on the newer high-tech gadgetry with which the Iron Man armor was currently equipped. Josh was annoyed by Tony's non-answers and the chaffing of his elbow on the shared armrest by the armor's elbow piece.
The explosion had taken out a large chunk of the wall near their seats. Tony had grabbed Josh by the scruff of his coat and flown him out of the building through the hole the detonation had created. He tossed Josh to the ground near the school bus and had shouted a command: Take cover!
"Yes, Josh. The blast was from the inside. Probably a homemade bomb taped to a wall," Tony glances 'through' the theater again to see if the culprit is still there. Likely not. "Do you have any enemies Josh?"
"Um, that would bomb me?"
"Yes."
"Not that I know of. Nope. Can't think of any," Josh grins. "Do you?"
"Of course, Josh. But they all should know that such an insignificant blast would not harm me through my suit. I can only assume they meant to harm you."
Josh becomes concerned now. He sees the logic in this assessment. Why would anyone want to kill him? He is a harmless comic book fan.
Inspiration strikes.
"I am entrusted in your care publicly, Tony! You lose face if I die on our date!"
"True, Josh."
"Grrr! I hate this shit!"
"Language!"
That is when the second bomb detonates.
The second bomb was stolen from a Navy transport ship leaving the Great Lakes naval base north of Chicago. The bomb was stolen during the confusion of mass movement necessitated by the new war in Iraq. It detonates, now, on the far end of the theater's parking lot. It had been stowed in a Ford Taurus.
The blast flings Josh against the driver's side wheel and well of the school bus-- Tony against the brick side of the building. A fiery mushroom cloud swells into the suburban sky. The windows of the bus closest to the blast blow in, the windows away hold firm. The explosion, Josh guesses, is not as intense as it seemed.
"What the fuck was that?"
UPS trucks, moving at high speed, pull into the parking lot. They screech to stops in a half-circle around the unmoving body of Iron Man. Men in stolen riot gear file out of the backs of them. One holds an assault rifle in Josh's direction, but does not take his eyes from Tony.
"E . . . M . . . P . . . bomb . . .," Tony moans. He cannot lift his arms or torso from the sidewalk that runs beside the theater. ". . . can't move."
"Alcoholic scum!" the man with a rocket-launcher screams at the broken man- machine. "Die for your misrepresentation of our brothers in the disease!"
"What?" Josh is stunned.
"You have made light of the affliction in your falsity for too long, Mr Stark. You glamorize our addiction with your fancy armor and corporate success! Well, no more!"
"What?!?" Josh reiterates.
"We arranged this public appearance! Feel the wrath of the Friends of Bill W!"
"Now, hold on!" Josh stands and begins marching to the man in the front. All the men are anonymous in their SWAT helmets. "You plan on killing Tony Stark because you think he is too functional of an alcoholic?!?"
"Yes. What of it?"
"With a rocket launcher?"
"Er . . . yeah. Why?"
"Nothing. Just checking," Josh smirks. "Tony?"
Iron Man turns his helm, scraping red paint on the asphalt, in the direction of Josh's voice. In the confines of the armor's weight and digital GUI visor display, he is virtually paralyzed and literally blind.
"Yes Josh?"
"How many times have you saved America? A few hundred times?"
"I don't like to talk of such things, Josh"
"Fine," Josh turns again to the rocket bearer, "Well, I do. I love to talk about such things. Mr. Anonymous, how many times have you saved the United States from super-threats? In fact, how many times has AA saved our country from them?"
"Well, we save people every day."
"From themselves, yeah. But from supervillains? Ever?"
"Well, no."
"And you realize that the guy you plan on blowing up has done this many times, right?"
"Well, of course. But I don't see how that has much to do with his defamation in public of the alcoholic. He is a bandwagoneer, exploiting the real pain of our people with his lies of addiction. Where is his pain? Where is his loss? He has none."
"I beg to differ, friend. If you would look more closely at this man's life, you will see that his armor, though glossy and powerful in appearance, is merely a shell for the withered soul inside. Tony Stark has experienced great loss due to his addiction. He is a lonely man with demons that torture him constantly. He would probably appreciate your proposed end to his torment."
"I don't think this is approp..." Tony interjects.
"Quiet, Iron Man," Josh snaps, "I have little use for addicts. Now back to what I was saying. This husk of a man clings to the only happiness he has left: his empire. Take away his wealth and technologies, and he is another pathetic drunk laying on a sidewalk. But! He struggles and makes the best of his disease by saving others. You all provide support for them; he secures their safety. It's just stupid for you to think he is not a representative for your struggle."
"I . . . I see your point," the man in the SWAT helmet sobs. All of the armed addicts, including Tony, have steamed face masks. They cry their sympathy.
"Now, go home to your families, drunkards. They need your help. I'll take care of Mr. Stark."
"O . . . Ok. We'll just go home then, ok?"
"Fine. And return that gear."
"Sure."
The AA members shuffle off to their stolen UPS trucks and drive off. Josh takes note of their license plates to report them to the police. He then walks over to the useless shell immobilized on the nearby sidewalk. He stands over him proudly, a classic Josh posture, then bends down to help him off with his helm.
"I knew the EMP thing would get me someday. Thank you for your help, Josh."
"No problem. I always like to help. Cummon, I'll let you buy me some tacos after I get you out of this armor."
"You bet, Josh. I'd be happy to."
"I bet you would, I bet you would."
Josh and Tony go to Taco Bell and eat 7 layer burritos. Tony tells Josh all about his new gadgetry he plans to install in his new armor. Josh is pleased. The whole episode was recorded on a pocket recorder. Josh let WIDR broadcast the whole thing.
by Micah Faulkner
The embers settle on the roof of the school-bus, the parking lot, a book bag. Josh brushes coals frantically from his neck in fear they will scurry into his T-shirt, bitching. The movie theater spouts black and grey smoke form the easternmost corner from the gaping and craggy hole blown in it.
"What the fuck was that?" Josh yells from his sanctuary: the wheel-well of bus number four.
"It was a bomb Josh, what do you think?" the armored man hovering some twenty feet away says. There are fiery plumes of propellant coming from the man's feet, keeping him afloat.
"Why would someone bomb the multiplex? I mean, what good could that do?"
"Calm down Josh. Everything happens for a reason," the flying man assures. He pivots his helmed head from Josh to the direction of the building. People are fleeing the emergency exits, but not very many. It had been a matinee that Tony and Josh were seeing. Josh had thought of it as a date.
Tony fires up his visual analyzers. The infrared comes up first showing mostly just a bunch of bright illegibility. He figured this would be. Next the radar and sonar tandem scan. This brings back some good results. He can see the seats of the theater now and the last few people scurrying out of the building. He keeps this analyzer on in a drop-down window in his visor and turns back to Josh using regular eyesight as his priory.
"It was probably terrorists, Iron Man. You are a member of the Avengers, you know. Our date was no secret," Josh shouts from behind his vantage. "Where did the bomb come from? Inside the theater?"
Josh Dahl and Tony Stark had been on a radio promotion date to see the new Piglet Movie. Neither of them particularly cared to see the film. It was appropriate, the station, WIDR, deemed, since Tony was considered an icon of wholesome Americana. Much of their time was spent, not watching the film, but in the form of a "Q and A" session. Josh pressed for specifics on various achievements of Tony's, about what Captain America and Wonder Man were 'really like', and for details on the newer high-tech gadgetry with which the Iron Man armor was currently equipped. Josh was annoyed by Tony's non-answers and the chaffing of his elbow on the shared armrest by the armor's elbow piece.
The explosion had taken out a large chunk of the wall near their seats. Tony had grabbed Josh by the scruff of his coat and flown him out of the building through the hole the detonation had created. He tossed Josh to the ground near the school bus and had shouted a command: Take cover!
"Yes, Josh. The blast was from the inside. Probably a homemade bomb taped to a wall," Tony glances 'through' the theater again to see if the culprit is still there. Likely not. "Do you have any enemies Josh?"
"Um, that would bomb me?"
"Yes."
"Not that I know of. Nope. Can't think of any," Josh grins. "Do you?"
"Of course, Josh. But they all should know that such an insignificant blast would not harm me through my suit. I can only assume they meant to harm you."
Josh becomes concerned now. He sees the logic in this assessment. Why would anyone want to kill him? He is a harmless comic book fan.
Inspiration strikes.
"I am entrusted in your care publicly, Tony! You lose face if I die on our date!"
"True, Josh."
"Grrr! I hate this shit!"
"Language!"
That is when the second bomb detonates.
The second bomb was stolen from a Navy transport ship leaving the Great Lakes naval base north of Chicago. The bomb was stolen during the confusion of mass movement necessitated by the new war in Iraq. It detonates, now, on the far end of the theater's parking lot. It had been stowed in a Ford Taurus.
The blast flings Josh against the driver's side wheel and well of the school bus-- Tony against the brick side of the building. A fiery mushroom cloud swells into the suburban sky. The windows of the bus closest to the blast blow in, the windows away hold firm. The explosion, Josh guesses, is not as intense as it seemed.
"What the fuck was that?"
UPS trucks, moving at high speed, pull into the parking lot. They screech to stops in a half-circle around the unmoving body of Iron Man. Men in stolen riot gear file out of the backs of them. One holds an assault rifle in Josh's direction, but does not take his eyes from Tony.
"E . . . M . . . P . . . bomb . . .," Tony moans. He cannot lift his arms or torso from the sidewalk that runs beside the theater. ". . . can't move."
"Alcoholic scum!" the man with a rocket-launcher screams at the broken man- machine. "Die for your misrepresentation of our brothers in the disease!"
"What?" Josh is stunned.
"You have made light of the affliction in your falsity for too long, Mr Stark. You glamorize our addiction with your fancy armor and corporate success! Well, no more!"
"What?!?" Josh reiterates.
"We arranged this public appearance! Feel the wrath of the Friends of Bill W!"
"Now, hold on!" Josh stands and begins marching to the man in the front. All the men are anonymous in their SWAT helmets. "You plan on killing Tony Stark because you think he is too functional of an alcoholic?!?"
"Yes. What of it?"
"With a rocket launcher?"
"Er . . . yeah. Why?"
"Nothing. Just checking," Josh smirks. "Tony?"
Iron Man turns his helm, scraping red paint on the asphalt, in the direction of Josh's voice. In the confines of the armor's weight and digital GUI visor display, he is virtually paralyzed and literally blind.
"Yes Josh?"
"How many times have you saved America? A few hundred times?"
"I don't like to talk of such things, Josh"
"Fine," Josh turns again to the rocket bearer, "Well, I do. I love to talk about such things. Mr. Anonymous, how many times have you saved the United States from super-threats? In fact, how many times has AA saved our country from them?"
"Well, we save people every day."
"From themselves, yeah. But from supervillains? Ever?"
"Well, no."
"And you realize that the guy you plan on blowing up has done this many times, right?"
"Well, of course. But I don't see how that has much to do with his defamation in public of the alcoholic. He is a bandwagoneer, exploiting the real pain of our people with his lies of addiction. Where is his pain? Where is his loss? He has none."
"I beg to differ, friend. If you would look more closely at this man's life, you will see that his armor, though glossy and powerful in appearance, is merely a shell for the withered soul inside. Tony Stark has experienced great loss due to his addiction. He is a lonely man with demons that torture him constantly. He would probably appreciate your proposed end to his torment."
"I don't think this is approp..." Tony interjects.
"Quiet, Iron Man," Josh snaps, "I have little use for addicts. Now back to what I was saying. This husk of a man clings to the only happiness he has left: his empire. Take away his wealth and technologies, and he is another pathetic drunk laying on a sidewalk. But! He struggles and makes the best of his disease by saving others. You all provide support for them; he secures their safety. It's just stupid for you to think he is not a representative for your struggle."
"I . . . I see your point," the man in the SWAT helmet sobs. All of the armed addicts, including Tony, have steamed face masks. They cry their sympathy.
"Now, go home to your families, drunkards. They need your help. I'll take care of Mr. Stark."
"O . . . Ok. We'll just go home then, ok?"
"Fine. And return that gear."
"Sure."
The AA members shuffle off to their stolen UPS trucks and drive off. Josh takes note of their license plates to report them to the police. He then walks over to the useless shell immobilized on the nearby sidewalk. He stands over him proudly, a classic Josh posture, then bends down to help him off with his helm.
"I knew the EMP thing would get me someday. Thank you for your help, Josh."
"No problem. I always like to help. Cummon, I'll let you buy me some tacos after I get you out of this armor."
"You bet, Josh. I'd be happy to."
"I bet you would, I bet you would."
Josh and Tony go to Taco Bell and eat 7 layer burritos. Tony tells Josh all about his new gadgetry he plans to install in his new armor. Josh is pleased. The whole episode was recorded on a pocket recorder. Josh let WIDR broadcast the whole thing.