Time: June 23rd, 2181
Location: Tenafly, New Jersey – United States of America, Earth
File this one under WTF: who's the fool? It's a beautiful summer afternoon in the suburbs of Tenafly and a little girl is having a birthday party in the backyard of her home. There's balloons, friends, games and cake. And the biggest surprise of all: a visit from Stompy, the krogan clown!
That's right… a krogan clown.
You may be thinking this is bad news for the little girl and her friends, but you'd be wrong. Stompy is actually the hero of this story. The bad guy… is off hiding in the nearby bushes, waiting to strike. Emil Shutz, a local lowlife with empty pockets and a head to match. He had been casing the neighborhood in search of some easy pickings in order to feed his red sand habit. Emil soon spotted his prize: a purse, laid out on the picnic table. Mom was sitting at the table watching the children play with Stompy, who was amazingly good with making balloon animals. Emil hung around waiting for an opportunity, probably getting a kick out of seeing a krogan in such a ridiculous getup. Eventually, Stompy got the children into a conga line and encouraged Mom to bring up the rear. As the music played on and the line snaked away from the table, the weasel struck. Emil bolted towards the table and then with purse in hand, quickly vaulted over the fence figuring nobody saw him.
Nobody that is… except Stompy.
Unlike our full-time clown Emil, at the end of the day Stompy was as full blooded a krogan as they come. And when this civic-minded citizen spotted the crime in progress, he wasted no time going after the creep. It is highly recommended that you immediately do three things if you should ever find an angry krogan charging towards you:
Run. Run. Run like hell.
And run Emil did, his life literally depending on it. It was a sight to behold: a tall, gangly human chased down the street by a krogan in full clown costume, complete with red nose and squeaky shoes. No one would have believed that this had ever happened unless you took a picture. Emil gave it his all, but Stompy was closing in fast. Looks like its curtains for Emil…
Hey, stupid! Didn't you bring something with you for just such an emergency? Of course, your stun gun! One zap from that bad boy will put that big brick hurtling towards you out of commission!
Electrical signals course around our bodies' nervous systems, flowing to our brains and back out again, regulating our vital functions, allowing us to react to our environment and go about our daily lives. Stun guns send a one-to-three milliamp charge throughout the body, disrupting the signals, forcing it to temporarily shut down. In proper working condition, the low amperage a stun gun delivers causes no permanent nerve damage and the victim fully recovers in a short time.
Emil, still pounding pavement, reached into his jacket to pull out his little lifesaver. He's tiring out and momentarily distracted.
He suddenly trips on a crack in the sidewalk…
Strike one.
He's falling, about to go face first into a puddle of water by an open hydrant on his side of the street…
Strike two.
And his handy little stun gun, still clutched to his chest… is homemade. As in shoddy, untested… and un-insulated…
Strike three…
The signals in Emil's body were not only disrupted, they were knocked completely off the rails. The meat fork, acting as the business end of his homebrew stun gun, lodged into his chest just underneath his ribcage, the jolt stopping his heart cold. The battery he used was from a busted omni-tool he salvaged from the town dump. To provide sufficient power for its various uses, the omni-tool draws a 1.21 ampere charge, well above the safety line. Emil wriggled and jiggled face down in the electrified puddle, his rear end popping up twice. And before you could finish the phrase "stick a fork in 'em," he was done.
Stompy caught up with the barbecued bandit, contacting emergency services. He then borrowed a wood-handle broom from a bystander, ever so carefully fished up the purse from Emil's warm, dead hand, returned the broom with a hearty "thank you" and returned with it to its grateful owner and a crowd of cheering kids. Mom certainly got her money's worth that day. And Emil learned the hard way that you should never judge a krogan by his greasepaint.
Three cheers for Stompy – family entertainer, crime fighter and all around swell guy!
No extra charge…
Way # 8321: Thug Zapper