Chapter 13: Ask Why
Meanwhile, Hulk has hectored Tigra and American Eagle all about Tucker Boulevard. Though both marvels, they can take only so much more maltreatment. For example, traffic has piled-up upon them-literally. Heinous Hulk keeps catapulting cars from afar as he approaches. Multiple autos sit atop Tigra, pinning her to pavement. Detroit steel has deluged American Eagle as he hammers it aside, his knuckles growing sore.
Finally, Hulk arrives. From the storm, he suddenly drops in. Immediately, Jason Strongbow jabs Greenskin in the "jewels". At this point, Eagle will do anything to quash the Incredible Hulk. The Jade Giant jeers jollily and flicks his fingers at puny Jason's forehead—jarring his grey jelly. But, American Eagle persists. He flying snapkicks forward. But, the big, bad brute simply slaps down Strongbow's leg and steps stiffly on his boot.
"Let's go toe-to-toe," Hulk utters. An unholy haymaker follows that nearly knocks Eagle's cranium crest off. Another follows the first, and teeth take flight all the way to Tigra witnessing slack-jawed.
Showing she's a tiger, Greer pushes up on the prodigious pile upon her. Twisted auto body scrapes bloodily into her own. Pain etches her face as the freakish feline femme fatale strains under the substantial steel. At least ten crushing tons lies dispersed over her. Against the terrible pressure, the she-beast fights her trap. But, suddenly, her hand slips in leaking oil. And, the whole mass mashes her again level.
Unrelenting, the Incredible Hulk batters the "silly goose" him. Blood flies with each furious buffet. Bones rattle with each bludgeoning bash. Behind the burgeoning black and blue and building bruises, the bested bird's brains must be becoming butter.
But, despite bulging face and a broken nose, Strongbow slugs back with an all-out punch to the sternum. The breastbone blow belts Hulk aback. Crimson dripping, American Eagle collapses and cants to his side. Corralled, the Cat cringes watching a warrior courageously commit to rising again. A cruel green foot kicks Eagle over. Cracking his knuckles, Hulk prepares to rain down more blows on his foe, flattened on the ground.
Gritting her teeth, Tigra taxes herself to the tendons. The heroine must free herself and rescue the dude in distress. Grinding her teeth, Greer twists in the trapping wreckage. Straining superbly, she takes her torso from the scrapped sedans. She is halfway out.
Peripherally, Hulk espies the laboring Lady Liberator looking to liberate herself and, once dislodged, likely launch at Hulk. The sadistic Savage snatches Strongbow and suspends him at arm's length. The leviathan lout leers at the lying lovely. Tigra looks him in the eye.
To her surprise, Hulk serenades her, "In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet, and the wind begins to moan. Meeemoryyy, all alone in the moonlight. . . . ." The crass creature apes decollating his captive while continuing the Cats tune. Tapping his foot, harassing Hulk taunts the potential rescuer.
Determined Tigra tries tearing her legs loose. They advance a little. Then, shockingly, someone under the pile grabs her ankles. A girl gasps. Then, a shady shape swiftly sucks her back under the heavy heap!
Bewildered beryl brows beetle on a bullying behemoth. The rampager wonders what just happened. Where the hell did Tigra go? And, who the f*** took her there?
"Over here," someone says to the side.
Hulk's head steers right. Surprise guest Doorman wields a darkforce dirk and rips it along Hulk's right hand. Greenskin bays as green skin splits. Strongbow slips from a slackened grip. And, Tigra fleetly fetches him before he can even fall a foot. Doorman has teleported her to Eagle's aid just as he conveyed the cavalry, Doc Samson, to St. Louis to help.
But, Hulk is quick too. The beast abruptly backhands Doorman out cold, utterly unconscious. Doorman may be an Angel of Death, but he is an oblivious agent of Oblivion now.
Big feet lumber past the sprawled sap as Hulk stomps over to the Roxxon rig. A huge hand takes the bumper and tilts the tractor askew. The trudging terror tows the rig along the wet road until he stops just short of a distressed duo.
"You wouldn't dare," Greer gets his intention. But, she knows he would.
The courageous Cat cradles crimsoned, concussed comrade close. Fury personified flips the gas tanker like a thirty-ton flail. The massive cylinder smites. Strong stainless steel splits and sections. Gasoline sprays, spills, and splashes along the inundated avenue. In a wide circumference, it spreads as excited Hulk grunts and grins. His inner Maestro anticipates seeing sanguine stuff seeping amongst the fuel. Sourly, one spots none. However, Hulk supposes Tigra and Eagle smashed anyway. But, for his peace of mind, he decides to surely seal their fate. A flickering lamppost sways in the downpour. Wiley wrath steps lively for it.
Secretly, fifteen seconds ago, Tigra squatted powerful legs and intently sprang back before the blow. Two bodies exited the Tucker overpass. Strongbow and Nelson fell to the location below. On a loading dock, drenched freight squished upon their hard impact. Piled paper sacks exploded, and some wheaten sludge grossly consumed the duo.
Tigra sniffs the sodden, sticky, slurping slop that sucks Strongbow and her centerward. It is cat food! The befuddled feline woman furrows a brow. Then, she spots the company logo square above. St. Louis has a major pet food company located at Tucker and Gratiot. Tigra giggles at the slapstick situation. This fiasco of a fight just keeps getting sillier. She pulls purled pallet wrap from her person, and the peeled plastic pours impure ponding in her peepers. Plastered Jason projectile pukes on pelt. Greer gags in turn.
A stone's throw away, overhead spouts and spigots sluice in sheets upon Gratiot Street. Joe Don Mahoney earnestly slogs east away from the tumult transpiring on Tucker. A whipping west wind drives the frazzled driver forward, fixed on safety. Flash flooding swamps his steel-toes.
Suddenly, U.S. Agent sprints past in the opposite direction, and Wasp wings by likewise toward trouble. Moseying on, Mahoney muses that they are braver than he.
On Tucker Boulevard, Hulk snaps a steel lamppost and brings forth the live wires within. He raises the hissing cables high. Over him, a shadow hurdles. Behind him, U.S. Agent alights. From thin air, Wasp appears before the brute. She catches the cantankerous creature's attention. She is the decoy. From the rear, Walker wraps Banner's waist and raises him rapidly. In one fell swoop, the super-soldier smacks the monster into the cement with a wicked wrestling take-down.
Simultaneously, Jan reduces to Wasp size. Snarling, Hulk sends the sizzling cables toward the ground's great gas puddle. In the nick of time, Wasp unleashes an unrestrained sting at the electricity's source. The bio-blast bisects the conduit neatly and cuts the jeopardous juice just as the Jade Giant jabs it past the fuel fumes. Hulk rails with rage. Wasp grins widely, for she does not want to be blown-up again as occurred twice recently.
Ever on task, U.S. Agent presses his advantage. He uprights his enormous opponent and knees him in the spine and kidneys. They are stunning strikes. Next, John seizes Bruce's posterior shorts—to Hulk's surprise. Lifting, Agent swings the off-balance oaf by the briefs and spins around successively faster and faster. Hulk holds on tight—seemingly for modesty's sake. And, Agent has to smile, for the action indicates that civilized Banner is in there somewhere. Spiraling Cap slings the "Hulk hammer" southwest, far through the St. Louis sky. The patriotic protector pursues.
The lobbed leviathan lug lands in Layafette Square, a good length away. From the park, livid Hulk launches several trees in frustration. The large logs arc over the mile from whence he came. Charging U.S. Agent checks the chunks' trajectory, turns down Chouteau Avenue, and keeps chasing after Hulk.
Wasp checks on her fellows. She channels her communicator, and chum Tigra answers the earpiece as chunky cat chow slithers down her cheek. Jan comes to her comrades. Greer shakes the s*** from her fur in the washing, rinsing rain. Van Dyne spots blood-spattered Strongbow supine and lying still. She stoops by his swollen face and speaks encouragement. The stalwart super unsteadily sits-up, his head swimming. He sucks for breath and passes out again. Little Jan snags the swooning man before head bumps pavement.
Wasp tells Tigra, "Aid U.S. Agent. John is alone against Bruce. He'll get his ass kicked."
"Like the rest of us have?" chafed Tigra would raise her hackles if it didn't hurt.
"Don't fuss. The boy heroes sometimes need a rescue," fluttering Wasp tows American Eagle toward a loading area first aid station, "For example, that is why I must stay here and play Florence Nightingale."
Aching Tigra rolls her eyes, "Neither your feminist appeal nor I am adamantine though."
Duty-bound, the harried, hairy heroine heads for the battle between Bellerophon and the Chimera. Tigra's extraordinary ears can almost hear it.
In Lafayette Square, Hulk blusters above the booming thunder and buffeting gale. Arms broad, he bellows his building belligerence for all above, around, and below. Bone-chilling, bestial blurts break through the black evening barraging St. Louis as citizens batten down in their abodes' basements—cyclone sirens blaring.
"Aaah, shad up!" Agent's shield scuds the deluge and slams directly into the monster's open maw.
Amazingly, the hurled disk hits with such force and accuracy that it actually wedges in the Green Goliath's gaping mouth! Mashing his molars! Assaulting his uvula and epiglottis! Transfixing his tongue! Chiseling his jawbone loose in an instant! And, stretching his smarting cheeks like a mauled chipmunk's!
"Uuuuugh!" Hulk lets out.
The shocked sucker swivels his head violently back and forth, but the dismayed dastard cannot dislodge the damned disk easily. The riled rampager reaches to rip the shield clean—regardless what red may spray.
But, a super-soldier wont' let the big guy regain an advantage. Walker's boot whumps Banner's belly. And, the Captain's dukes clock the berserker one way before biffing and boxing him the other and then the other. Hulk suddenly blocks a blow. But, Agent instantly body slams the belligerent bruiser.
U.S. Agent is an expert fighter of the highest degree who might yet defeat the Hulk in hand-to-hand combat. However, he wouldn't mind some help. He would not mind Wasp, Tigra, and American Eagle hastening here. The Captain would welcome such a group effort. Hell, Walker would not mind Spider-Woman, Giant-Man, and Doc Samson showing up too.
Champing at the bit, Hulk bounces to his feet. Sans hesitation, U.S. Agent bastes Hulk on "the button", the chin. Unshaken, the Green Goliath beans Cap's crown. He bats him backward and busts him through a bench. Getting back up, Agent grabs a boulder and breaks it on Hulk's head. But, he rapidly realizes that it was actually a big old urn, a park artifact purposefully kept on a pedestal. The patriotic putz wonders what history just got obliterated. However, Cap cannot cogitate much before Hulk begins birching him repeatedly with an uprooted tree! The long trunk lashes. Walker grabs the abusing extension and plays crack the whip. The woody whip does indeed crack into kindling. Bold Agent bull-rushes Hulk—who simply boots the brazen bozo through the brush. The powerhouse pursues. The skidding soldier plows through a large flower bed as if coming to rest in his funeral plot. He impotently throws dirt in Hulk's eyes when the Incredible arrives. Addled anger ambles over and yanks an irritating jerk upright. Getting mean, Agent mashes the shield lodged between Hulk's lips, and the man-monster lets loose an agonized cry. Cocking his arm, Walker prepares to really wallop the wedge home. But, the great beast arrests Agent's able arm in mid-stroke.
The mammoth monster mumbles, "Wait." Surprised, U.S. Agent inhales sharply. He hopes that civilized and mild Banner returns.
Exhaling violently, Hulk spits a vibranium shield, bloody saliva, and viscous boogers into U.S. Agent's face. Cap cringes beneath the blob of bunk. The Savage swats the scummy pest across Lafayette Park,
and the super-patriot rings a Sen. Benton's bronze statue like a bell, cracking it. Galloping over, the Gamma Goon grabs two burnished British cannons affixed here since 1897. America acquired them from the Actaeon in 1776. He devilishly deracinates the dear dual relics with high dudgeon. The raised cannons resemble clubs about to cruelly crack cranium. Crud-covered Cap careens for his shield. With a CLANG, he blocks one bulky bludgeon. But, the other clobbers his side. Swinging his shield, Cap capably cuts the offending iron in half. Crossing back, Agent parries another perilous blow. Quickly, he clasps the ironclad club, crimps it, and crushes it into scraps.
Immediately, U.S. Agent signals time-out. Curious, Hulk holds his cocked right cross.
Jingoist Johnny adjures, "Wait. We need to move our melee. Too much urban Americana is getting wrecked."
"Okay, puny human," Hulk flings the noble fighter away.
Walker reels south to Lafayette Park's duck pond. When he plants there, the pool at least purges his putrid coverings. U.S. Agent pauses beneath the pond to plan a counterattack. But, Hulk plugs unrelentingly to his prey. The wild wight wades into the dingy water, frenetically feels about the boggy bottom, finds John, and plucks a "dead duck" from the muck. Sadistically, the Savage slugs Agent east. Knuckles knock the knight through nettles to a nearby grotto. Grating his teeth, Hulk crashes through the growth between U.S. Agent and him. As though a daft golfer, the crazed creature grabs the grotto's antique iron bridge and deftly chooses a decent driver to chip-shot a chump. He dislodges the bridge and dings his mark in a high arc o'er the park. At the green's perimeter, a pointed iron fence stands. Spotting the possible impalement, the sailing super-soldier slips his shield between his shoulders. It snubs the spikes, and saves Johnny from being skewered. He somersaults upright on the Park Avenue sidewalk.
Right behind Agent, a leaping Hulk lands. "Sucker punch!" Greenskin announces. A jab jars the super-soldier's side.
"Slug bug!" a ferocious fist stuns the Jingoist of Justice's shoulder. There is, in fact, a Beetle parked on Park Avenue near the park.
"Rabbit punch!" a wrathful rap rams Agent forward with such force as to buckle the Lafayette barrier, erected in 1869 and now wrecked one hundred and fifty years later.
"Shield sling for stupid man," a prodigious palm cups the shield strapped on Agent's back.
Hulk hefts the hostage, "Let me tell you something, Avenger. I know Captain America. Captain America is a friend of mine. And, puny, you're no . . . um . . . aah . . . you're stupid!"
Simple Hulk simply slings the shield—and thus attached U.S. Agent—crisply southwest. The odd discus spins the secured silly before the ballistic breaks an expansive stained glass window. Then, the loopy's landing splinters several pew rows inside a revered Methodist church, raised in 1888.
To his credit, Hulk considerately hops through the existing aperture, the busted glass, to enter the temple. As the heavens rage outside, the Green Goliath raises a sinister fist with bad intent. Hulk would smash the super-soldier. But, U.S. Agent checks the churl. Chagrined, he chucks his convex colors at the chippy chap. With effort, the champion tremulously stands.
The chauvinist chevalier declares, "Not in a church. That would be un-American."
"Fine, let's fight outside," Hulk chews his lip. Upon finding the oaken exit doors locked, the choleric cur collapses them. Cap cringes.
Outside, precipitation pours from the churning skies to the chugging sewers. The cold shower feels very cherry to Hulk, and he chuffs from his chest like an immodest chimp. By chance, he spots a charnel facility, a funeral home, facing the church. He chortles. Hulk can just shove the Agent chunks through the mail-chute when he's done. Chin high, Hulk turns around to face his foe.
But, the gargantuan child sees no challenger standing in the street.
"Cheap shot!" camouflaged Cap casts his circular swatter from a caliginous alley.
The shield chops a chicaned chump's common fibular nerve, and a big knee buckles like cut chafe. The huge creature caterwauls. And, he caresses his tender charley horse. From the shadows, U.S. Agent charges the chastened dope like a full-tilt choo-choo. Like Bobby Steele, Johnny blitzes the brute and carries the cross clod all the way to the next street corner.
The combatants crash into a quiet public library. Weary Walker busts the bestial Banner through brick, plaster, and several bookcases. Agent chocks Hulk's heel and crashes the chivvying pair through a crown glass door. In the library's central chamber, Agent briefly chokes Hulk and chips the marble floor with a huge melon. The monster grabs for extended arms. John changes tactics. He cartwheels upright. America's shield severs an antique chandelier overhead. It drops toward Hulk—who cracks it aside. The charming relic breaks on the wall.
Scratching his chin, Greenskin stands, "Why you trash library like Hulk? Here has nice old things."
"I'm being practical now," the super-soldier declares, "F*** historical preservation!"
"Good, because I'm hitting you that way," the ponderous palooka points. A powerful punch propels Cap's "can" into dual chiffoniers, chocked with archival treasures: from first editions to a forty-eight-star Old Glory.
Amidst debris, U.S. Agent lies a moment catching his breath. The Hulk is a considerable opponent even for the world's most elite fighter (Steve Rogers might disagree with John). And, Walker can hear the heavy steps stomping his way—echoing ominously in the library's dome. Actual thunder accompanies them.
Another cruel blow cruises in, but Agent's upraised iconic aegis absorbs much of the impact. Avenger Walker rallies. He counterattacks—cuffing Hulk across the face. Furious, the Jade Giant socks back—but misses. His fist demolishes the wall. His other huge hand simply shoves U.S. Agent into the next room.
Ever rampaging, Hulk wrecks the wall wider to allow himself access to the adjacent area. The children's section has no kids currently. These days, American elementaries teach primary pupils "run, hide, fight". And, the runts reading today have run out into the raging rain rather than face one of those fracases common in the nightly news.
So, the Incredible Hulk endangers only the idyllic environment and intrepid U.S. Agent. The creature crushes little furniture and crunches cheap computers. He throws chintzy art about and topples stuffed toys. He sends some low ceiling to the calico carpet. He tosses a bookcase or two through the broad bay window.
Then, the Jade Giant towers over tired U.S. Agent. His silhouette is terrible and threatening against the tenebrous, tempestuous eve's backdrop. The colossal creature snarls. But, to Walker's surprise, Banner also sighs. Then, Hulk sucks some oxygen and slumps a wee—before squaring his shoulders once again. Fatigued Walker wonders if, somehow, the tall terror is tired too.
"Hulk smash you good!" the monster raises his whopping fist.
"Actually, Hulk smashes one well," reproves someone from the side, "Read a book." Tigra tosses a forty-pound dictionary at the great green dunce.
A massive middle finger simply taps the tome aside. Hulk trudges toward Tigra. Interestingly, his gait betrays a certain fatigue.
"I am here to protect my pal," Tigra crosses her arms assertively. Within, Greer is nervous as a cat.
The Green Goliath flexes his monumental muscles, "Hulk is the Strongest One There Is. What is puny pussycat going to do?"
"What am I going to do?" Tigra selects a book from a shelf, "Why, pick a book for you, of course. You can't beat a good book."
Looking befuddled, Hulk barks, "Banner reads books! Hulk does not!"
Behind Hulk, U.S. Agent sneaks-up. He notices a strange sluice of sweat cascading down the beast's back.
Before Hulk, Nelson notices Greenskin's complexion changing slightly. The emerald hue shifts to lime—with hints of ashen gray. And, Tigra Cheshire-grins slyly at the chromatic change. Observable enervation offers relief and cause for optimism. Tigra stalls for some time.
"Are you sure that you won't read awhile? It relaxes the mind," the amiable Avenger offers the book again.
Hulk grows grayer, and his height falls a foot. Stored mass farts from his physique.
"This is a good book," Greer insists, "You should read it."
Indignant eyes judge the cover. Gray Hulk cuffs the TPB aside, "Don't have to. Hulk has lived it."
"What, dummy? You don't like books with pictures?" Agent antagonizes from aft, "Them 'r my favorite."
Spinning, Joe Fixit throws crackerjack combinations. But, Cap masterfully maneuvers about. The monster misses again and again. Eventually, he hits once heavily. But, the right hook just rings Walker's rampart, raised like a punch mitt. Mr. Fixit flings another that the rigid bulwark likewise blocks, bruising dun knuckles.
"Hey! Why don't you try hitting yourself," the super-soldier suggests. He recalls that Eagle, at the stadium, egged Hulk to hit himself and that the tactic kind of worked.
To the side, Tigra subtly shakes her head. The superheroine is unsure what she can do to aid "yutz" U.S. Agent. Ms. Nelson had Hulk nicely relaxed and nearing normal. Now, Walker has Banner in fickle flux again.
Astonishingly, a green third arm instantly morphs from Hulk's gray chest and uppercuts him unreservedly. Agape, Cat and Cap witness the freak wobble, pass-out, and pitch forward. Hulk is Banner before he even hits the floor, which the heroes let him.
"That was unexpected," U.S. Agent jocosely comments.
Tigra preens, "I am very proud of myself. I just defeated the Hulk." She pushes him with a playful foot.
Of course, the Cat could merely have her mind's version of events.
Doc Samson could explain. If he has survived Zzzax, the Living Dynamo.