Gargoyles
Biker Mice from Mars
"Business Partners"
Pt 5
"Hey guys, need a lift!?" A voice shouted out from above.
"CHARLEY!?" The Bros shouted back, kind of surprised to find their friend falling next to them, as they plummeted to their doom next to a New York Skyscraper. Well, that and the small fact she was being carried by a large, winged creature too.
"Hey, Babe! Make some new friends while we were gone?" Vinnie asked in a pleasant conversational tone. "I guess you could say that." She replied slightly exasperated by his ever-calm demeanor in these heart-stopping situations.
"Guys, these are the Gargoyles, Brooklyn, Lexington, Broadway and this is Hudson." She said pointing out each creature. "Hi. Hello. Nice to meet you." They replied with waves. Hudson, who was carrying Charley simply nodded.
"This is Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie." Charley continued with the introductions. "Hey. Sup. You guys come here often?" The Mice responded similarly waving back. "As nice as it is to meet new people, I feel I should point out that if we don't make a change of venue, this Conversation will be ENDING soon, and Very Messily." Brooklynn interjected while pointing at the rapidly approaching street!
Agreeing with this statement, the mice lifted their arms above their heads, so the Gargoyles could grab them. Gliding over and taking up a sliding position, the Trio made it look nearly effortless as each moved towards a mouse.
Brooklynn grasped Throttle by his wrists, Broadway doing the same with Vinnie. Lex did the same with Modo, only not quite managing to achieve the same as his two larger clan brothers.
"URK!" Lex grunted, arms going straight as Modo's full considerable weight pulled on them. "Little Help Here!" He cried out, small wings flapping rapidly, slowing them down, but not quite able to catch the updraft.
"On you're left!" Brooklynn called drifting over, reaching out for Lex's shoulder. "I'm coming, hold on, almost there!" Broadway gasped doing the same on the opposite side. Throttle and Vinnie wrap their tails around the single arms to free up one to help Lex and Modo.
"Not One Word outta you two!" Modo huffed, cutting off his two bros before friendly insults on an old subject could be tossed out. "What? I didn't say nothing did you say anything, nope not me!" Throttle and Vinnie joked.
3 sets of leathery wings unfurled to their best width, and the updraft between the tall buildings finally gave enough lift to carry them all back up into the shadowy night near the tops of the towers. The cars and pedestrians remained blissfully unaware of what was going on literally above their heads.
Owen let out a long sigh. Watching the Gargoyles carry the odd intruders away into the darkness. His outer self displays irritation at a check being made against his highly regarded self-efficiency at not completing his task to the expected results. His inner self turned with a very different set of uncertain thoughts and emotions.
8 sets of eyes, one set being human and the others very much not, kept a strong scrutiny on the other. Albeit in a non-aggressive way, or as close as possible. "Wow, can't believe there are real-life aliens, this is kinda cool and creepy!" Broadway muttered staring at the quartet across the rooftop.
"Don't let your imagination run away with you, we don't know for sure that their real aliens." Brooklynn gruffly growled, hunched on all fours, he studied the group across from them, trying to not miss any hints or tells they might give, intentionally or otherwise.
"Are you sure, if they're not aliens, what else could they be: some of Servarius's Clones, or the Mutates like Talon, and Maggie?" Lex asked, watching the Martians just as intently but filtered through a more scientific curiosity. He also didn't fail to notice Brooklynn flinching at that last name.
"Yeah, Charley seems nice enough, kind of reminds me of Elisa, just a bit more laid back yet spunky at the same time." Broadway added. "Look, I'm not saying we shouldn't trust them. but it wouldn't be the first time Xanatos was playing some long-twisted game on us. "
"Brooklynn is right, we shouldn't let ourselves become so calloused by recent events that we shut ourselves off from being able to trust others, it is not the way of the Gargoyle." Hudson grumbled, giving support to Brooklynn, the (hopefully) temporary clan leader who gave him a silent thanks.
"Spunky?!" Lex asked shooting Broadway an odd look, who just shrugged. "Well, she is. "Hudson and Brooklynn just rolled their eyes while watching the mice across the roof.
"What're you snickering about Vinnie?" Charley snapped, getting annoyed by the smirk on the White-Furred Martian's face. "Oh, nothing…Spunky!" He chuckled, big ears twitching both at overheard comments and Charley's confused look.
"Let's try to keep this conversation on the track, Vincent!?" Throttle wearily requested of his younger bro, but secretly not expecting much. "Ok, OK, Fine!" Vinnie acquiesced for once. "Now, you said they told you they're from Earth, and not some other planet Charley?" Throttle asked her.
"That's what they told me, and I want to believe it, but the story they told me was a big one to swallow, why do you think they could be lying?" Throttle thought about it before answering her. "I see no reason to doubt them, it aint all that uncommon for a planet to have more than one sentient race."
"It could be they are from some other world but crashed here a real long time ago and have just forgotten, that happens too!" Modo helpfully added. "They do kinda look like Arcturid Stone Rollers!" Vinnie said.
"Nah, they got two heads, remember." Modo corrected him. "Oh, yeah right, how did I forget that?" Vinnie said with an odd look of reminiscing. "It would help if you actually tried using the one you've got now for something other than a blunt object." Charley joked.
"Hey, they've saved our tails once already so I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, therefore instead of us babbling to ourselves, I say we just go over there and talk to them Directly." And with that Throttle turned and walked towards the Gargoyles.
Charley stepped in between the two groups and quickly did the introductions again. This time in a more relaxed setting. The Gargoyles gave a few restrained but not unfriendly greetings, but clearly not letting their guards down yet.
The Mice removed their helmets and returned the greetings in a more relaxed manner. Broadway's eyes opened wide. "Ooh, they got little rubber thingies on the tops of their heads, OW!" He rudely blurted out and got a tail whack to the back of his head from Hudson with a disapproving glare.
"Uh, sorry." Broadway mumbled while rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, it's ok big guy and their Antenna." Modo chuckled and got his pair to give a decent little wiggle. "Wow!' Broadway watched fascinated by it. Brooklynn and Hudson could only groan while Lex just smiled along with his large friend.
"Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, why did you guys run a raid on Xanatos's Castle?" Throttle looked over the top of his field specs at the White Haired and Brown Gargoyle, obviously the leader. The slightly predator-like stance he took of standing upright on his slightly bent legs, leaning just noticeably forward with wings out but curled, with his eyes focused directly on him, looking like he could pounce at any second.
Throttle couldn't keep a small smirk off his face. Brooklynn just screamed young and inexperienced leader with a bit of a hot-headedness he was fighting to keep in check. This estimation of the young gargoyle was pretty much confirmed by the seemingly nonchalant elder gargoyle Hudson's almost unnoticeable deep breath acting like he wasn't watching Brooklynn like a Hawk, which he was. Ready to step in, if needed.
The memory of a young totally wet behind his big ears, hot-headed know-it-all-all-tan-furred Martian being taken under the wing of Certain then Freedom Fighter Colonel Stoker back on Mars a long time ago sprang to mind.
Taking the complete opposite posture, he relaxed against a brick wall, arms, and legs crossed with his tail casually swaying. "Blunt, I like that." Throttle smiled, while Brooklynn's gaze tightened. Hudson stiffened but remained quiet.
"For starters, that wasn't a Raid, more like a covert intel gathering op." All 4 of the Gargoyle's eyes shot wide open at that. "To be honest, we're really more of a Strike Force." Vinnie, Modo, and Charley nodded vigorously in support of that statement.
"OK, what are you trying to find out about Xanatos exactly?" Lex cut in, his curiosity piquing, getting a glare from Brooklynn. "Now that you know us, we can tell you anything you want about Xanatos, we know everything about him!" Broadway added happy to join the conversation.
"He's a megalomaniac trying to take over the world just for his own twisted sense of entertainment," Brooklynn growled, letting his emotions come to the surface again. Both Hudson and Throttle did not fail to notice it.
"No, he isn't!" Lex contradicted. "He isn't some screwy Saturday morning Cartoon bad guy!" Broadway sided with his little rookery brother. "Yeah, he aint that, well sure he has done some crazy and nasty things, but he isn't that bad."
"How about the time He made a statue of Hudson and then convinced us he was dead when his robot duplicates of Macbeth who dropped it off a building?!" Brooklyn fired out to back up his position. Hudson grunted at being reminded of that little misadventure.
"Yeah, that was Bad, but it still wasn't Muwahaha I'm going to Destroy the World because I'm Evil Bad. Sorry, Hudson." Lex rebuttable while apologizing to Hudson. The Mice and Charley just watched this little interpersonal debate both confused and kind of impressed by it.
"Hey, look we don't really care about this Xanadan guy..." "Xanatos" Modo, Vinnie, and Charley quickly corrected Throttle, who continued "Whatever, it's not him we're worried about, it's Limburger that was after, and what he's doing in New York." "The Fat Guy in the purple suit with the Big Construction Robots that smells like a combination of weird cheese and bad fish?" Broadway asked.
"Yeah, that's old Lard Butt to a T all right!" Vinnie laughed out loud at that description of their Arch Nemesis. "So, what does He want that makes him worse than Xanatos to you guys?" Brooklynn responded by returning their point back at them.
"He wants to strip mine your entire planet down to a dried-out and dead husk." All the Gargoyles just stared back at the Mice and Charley for a few silent seconds. "Ok, that's pretty bad." Brooklynn mumbled.
"By the way you said that, are we to take it that this Limburger is an Alien from another planet like you?" Hudson inquired as tactfully as possible, but not tactfully enough for Modo. Single Eye Glowing Red and both fists clinched, he growled back a reply.
"He aint Nothing Like Us, He's a Low Down Dirty Rotten Stinking Piece of…!" Throttle put up a paw cutting him off and calming him down, at least a little bit. "Whoa big bro, put on the brakes, but no, He aint nothing like us." Throttle politely pointed out.
"My apologies, I meant no offense." Hudson nodded solemnly. "Oh, gosh no sir, it's my fault, shouldn't let my temper get the better of me, my dear gray-furred old mama always said I had a bit of a hot head." Modo smiled meekly, ashamed of his outburst.
"You're Rookery Matriarch, um that is Mother sounds very wise indeed." Hudson graciously smiled, silently grateful for being able to defuse the situation. "Ok, so he isn't like you guys, that point has been made So would you care to explain to us Exactly what he is?" Brooklynn inquired.
"For starters, he aint human or Martian, he's a big fish wearing a disguise to blend into your society." Throttle elaborated while Broadway mumbled, "Well, that would explain the smell." Everyone chuckled while Throttle continued to explain.
"The Plutarkians don't go around Conquering planets, at least not at first, it's a waste of the resources they want." He started, and Modo took the next part. "They slime their way into the society and then start bribing and buying off your leaders with their advanced tech and stuff, all the while literally stealing the planet out from under yer feet."
"Yeah, you think you're dancing your way to the bank when it's really a blind trip into a shallow grave." Vinnie laughingly growled at his phrasing. "By the time we figured out what they were doing back on Mars, it was way too late, we started to fight back but their weapons and tech were better than ours, and they had no issues with using them, our race was all but wiped out except for a few small pockets of survivors." Throttle sadly replied.
"You really should trust them." Charley suddenly stepped into the discussion. "If it wasn't for the Bros, Chicago would be nothing but an empty crater right now, at one point He even tried to pull the Earth out of its Orbit and move it across the Galaxy to his planet, just so they could rip it apart at their Leisure. Limburger and the Plutarkians are the very definition of Big Evil Alien Bad Guys." Her somber expression hid none of her feelings.
The Gargoyles exchanged somber looks, suddenly feeling that they had something in common with the Strange Motorcycle Riding Mice. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Brooklynn turned to them and asked "OK, I think it's safe to say you've convinced us. So, what can we do to help?"
"What we Need to do is Get our Bikes back!" Vinnie pointed out. He never felt easy when his beloved ride wasn't at his side. "Exactly. We need to get them back before Xander finds them which would tip off Limburger that we're in town and on his case." Throttle added. "Xanatos." Broadway politely corrected him again. "Whatever." Throttle shrugged.
"Xanatos has enough scary technology of his own, but him figuring out some actual Alien Tech, that is a scary concept." Lex shuddered, while secretly dying to get a look at the bikes himself.
"Aye, He causes enough with the toys he already has." Hudson grumbled. "Well. If he tries anything with My Lil' Hoss He'll Regret, it!" Modo growled, eye glowing and metal paw curling into a fist.
"Sounds like we got a game plan." Vinnie smiled, always ready to get back into some action. "Yeah, we just have to figure out how to get to the goalpost." Brooklynn pointed out while also pointing at Xanatos's Imposing Building stretching high into the New York Sky.
Everyone there turned at looked as well. A hush fell over the roof. "I get the feeling this won't be as easy a second time." Charley sighed. "Yeah, this time will probably be even More FUN!" Vinnie laughed.
A Cold Thick Fog was starting to roll in off the dark New York Harbor. Limburger inhaled deeply, savoring the tastes and aromas before exhaling with a deep sigh which turned into a deep rumbling chuckle.
Leaning against his purple limousine he took the surroundings again. Down on a less-than-prosperous section of the New York Waterfront, the slimly polluted water slapped against an old rotting dock with a dilapidated old tugboat tied to it.
Standing at the entrance to an alley between two deserted old warehouses, with dirty graffiti-covered walls and grime encrusted and broken windows and abandoned vehicles. He took another whiff of the stench coming from the long-ignored and overflowing trash cans and dumpsters.
It did so remind him of home. Reaching into a coat pocket, and taking out a fancy little case, he removed a couple of fat wiggling slime worms and greedily slurped them into his wide jaws.
"A midnight meeting down on the old waterfront. I gotta admit that does bring back some memories and has a certain old-school charm. "Tony Dracon joked walking out of the fog along the dock. His Imposing Lieutenant Glasses and the usual half dozen of the usual enforcers emerged a few seconds after.
"Oh, I willingly admit that I do favor a certain partiality for the Old School Way of doing things Mr. Dracon, for as they say, the old ways are often the best ways." Limburger replied in kind returning Dracon's Gangster style of Dark Humor.
"You won't get any arguments from me on that, but then it would be rather rude of me to disagree with the guy that got me out of prison early, however, you managed to do it that is. "Dracon replied with a look of deep gratitude, but with an undercurrent of suspicion lacing it.
Limburger couldn't hold back his smile watching the young human gangster doing his best to demonstrate that he wasn't someone to mess around with in the tried-and-true Old Hoodlum Style. "Let's just say that the rumors of my current financial frustrations have been somewhat Over-exaggerated, which has been quite useful in greasing certain wheels of this fine city's certain legal and business authorities."
"Again, you've to my thanks, especially for getting me out of that cell away from that Czech Wannabe Mobster Brod, so what say we put an end to all this Polite back and forth and we get to the real reason for why you called this little meeting." Dracon said, obviously getting tired of this little game of playing nice.
"Ah, the vitality & zeal of youth, such an invigorating concoction." Limburger cooed. "But yes, there is something to be said about getting to the point." Dracon nodded his head in agreement, the impatient expression on his face backing this up.
"My reason for setting up this little shall we say seaside seminar is to augment the acceleration of alliance of our associated ambitions for furthering our own excessive yet, shall we say, not entirely legal enterprising endeavors."
"What are talking about Limburger!?" Dracon snapped out, apparently not having followed what Limburger had just said in that convoluted word salad. "I want to get Mobbed Up, become a Goodfella, join your Outfit, be a Goombah, or to put it in plain English, Join Forces!" Limburger explained first in Mafia Lingo, which He was quite proud of.
"Oh, really? Did you make the same offer to Xanatos, get turned down so you offer the same deal to me, thinking you could do better by Slumming it in the gutter?!" "Oh, my dear boy no, please discontinue with this self-derogatory discrimination." Limburger cooed very smoothly like an eel sliding through dark waters after its prey.
"And just what do you mean by that?" Dracon demanded, his curiosity starting to get the better of him the more this odd conversation continued. "You want to offer me the old My Brawn and Your Brains type of garbage?" Again, Limburger shook his head No.
"It's both your Brawn and your Brains I want dear boy." Limburger chuckled at the now even more confused look on the young thug's face. "Xanatos and his pampered ilk are up there in their towers, and yes they do control things via wealth and influence, ah but you, my dear young lad do so as well, yet with shall we say very different topographical vantages!"
"STREETSMARTS MY DEAR BOY!" Limburger interjected, cutting off Dracon's perplexed reply he was obviously about to make again. "As you were implying before; Xanatos likes to say that He owns this city, which in technically legal terms is true, but once he steps foot outside his edifices, he is utterly beyond the parameters of the comfort zones of his little ecosphere of imaginary influence."
"I think I managed to follow that." Dracon slowly said. "You're saying it's my knowledge of the local terrain that you want to take advantage of." Limburger nodded his large head, a look of something like amused pride at a slow pupil finally learning a simple lesson.
"I don't know whether to feel honored or insulted." Dracon perplexedly replied. "Oh, most assuredly the foremost acclaim my valued felonious delinquent." Limburger chuckled. "I swear I've never met anyone that could twist a compliment like you." Dracon sighed.
"Why, thank you dear boy, but let's direct this diabolical discussion back in the right direction, shall we?" Dracon nodded wholeheartedly with this and braced himself for the next round of complex and confusing comments from this Chicagoan Criminal Conundrum.
Chuckling at his little twisted phrasing of inner dialogue, Dracon almost missed that Limburger was talking again. "As I was saying dear boy, it's both your Mind and Muscle that are required for this little merger." Chuckling he turned and moved to the trunk of his purple limousine's trunk.
Spinning around with heels clicking together, Limburger went right from Businessman to Salesman. "Even the Best Mind and Muscle still need the very important items needed to put those attributes to use, or in other words. The Merchandise!"
Acting as if on cue, the trunk lid popped open on its own. Out popped a large box. It unfolded into a larger shape that shouldn't have fit in the space it came from. "As the old earth, erm I mean that saying goes, every workingman has to have the right tools to get The Job Done!" Limburger joked while quickly covering up that phrase faux pas.
He took something from the case and held it up for Dracon to examine. "What's that supposed to be? Some kind of blaster gun?" He smirked and reached into his jacket's inner pocket. "Hate to disappoint big man, but already got one."
Dracon held up a larger, slightly blocky but kind of sleeker-looking pistol-like device. Bracing his arm, he aimed it at an overflowing old trash can in the alley in between the warehouses and fired!
TH-WHACK! A loud rattle shook Dracon's whole arm, while a bright red beam shot out, hitting the trash can! The refuse exploded out and started burning, while the brick wall began smoking with a fist-sized scorch mark on it!
Shacking off the jolt, Dracon lowered the heavy weapon and gave Limburger a What do you think of that smug look? With a bewildered expression on his face, Limburger acted in awe of the display. "Oh, Dear, Oh My, that was, now what is the word I'm looking for?"
Casting his gaze around the area, he looked at the abandoned old Tugboat next to the dock and smiled. Casually pointed his smaller weapon at it and opened fire. The crumbling vessel was racked by explosions as the energy bolts punched and burned holes in and through it! Limburger stopped firing, and after a few more seconds, the tugboat broke apart and sank into the dark and dirty waters of the bay. Ah, yes. The word I was pondering for is QUAINT!" His deep rumbling laughter shook the area.
Dracon and his thugs stood there in shocked silence for a couple of seconds. Glasses' glasses almost fell off his nose when his jaw dropped open. "Wow!" "Holy…!" "I want one of those!" The Thugs gasped.
"SHUT UP!" Dracon shouted at them, then turned to Limburger. "OK, it's safe to say that we're impressed." Getting his crew back under control, he walked closer to Limburger. "Let's talk business and just what all this is going to cost me." The Chicago Industrialist shook his big head. "Tut, tut my dear boy, you've got me all wrong in this little venture."
The look on Dracon's face didn't seem convinced, but he kept quiet. "I want to Join our Forces, not hire you to work for me." He tossed the red blaster to the young mob boss as an example of this. "That, and more." Gesturing at the open box, inner lights came on, showing racks of pistol-sized blasters and larger ones resembling gangster land Tommy guns.
Dracon looked at his new toy before slipping it into his jacket and gesturing at his thugs to take their new toys as well, which they all did acting like greedy kids on an illicit Christmas morning, rushed forward and started grabbing.
"Now isn't this delightful. You supply the Manpower, and I'll supply the Firepower if need be, I can also supply some additional Muscle when it's needed for those more special occasions." Dracon raised an eyebrow at that comment.
"And just what do you mean by that?" Limburger's smile widened, which gave him the appearance of a certain kind of predatory fish. "Oh, say, for example, those recent nocturnal infestation issues you've had some issues with shall we say."
"You know about the…" Dracon practically spits out, but Limburger interrupted him. "Oh, you'd be Surprised at all the things I know about this city dear boy." Putting a fatherly arm around the gang leader's shoulders, while being silently thankful that Karbunkle's deodorizer was working for once, he navigated Dracon's attention towards another nearby alleyway.
"Now, for a further demonstration of the resources I'll be making available to you for those minuscule moments some additional might is necessitated shall we say." Limburger held his hand out making a Look at this Gesture in pure Salesman making a pitch fashion, but the only thing happening was the thick fog quietly hanging in the alley.
Dracon gave Limburger a withering glance, which got a sheepish smile in reply. "Ah, heh, yes, well, ahem. When MIGHT is NECESSITATED!" Clearing his throat, he repeated the latter part in a louder voice, but again only quiet fog was the response.
Limburger snarled and muttered something under his breath which to Tony sounded something like that was your cue you overly lubricated lummox. "GREASEPIT, GET OUT HERE!" Limburger Bellowed! Tony and his Thugs flinched as Limburger's facade of Smooth Salesman slipped off to be replaced by the Explosive and hidden dominating one.
It seemed the silence would continue until something did come from the alleyway. An at first distant thudding noise that quickly got closer. Something Big and Heavy was making its way towards them.
Tony and the Thugs flinched again when The Thing emerged out of the fog! It looked like it barely fit the space between the old warehouses! Wearing big workman boots and filthy overalls covered in stains and a comical-looking little red hat on top of its oddly shaped massive head, The Thing stomped slowly at them!
The Thing looked like some kind of Shaved Ape (a really dumb and ugly one) and a greasy slab of…something! Limburger had to hold Tony next to him with his large arm with a look of irritated impatience as he evenly waited for The Thing to get there.
"About time you moron" Limburger grumbled. "Gentleman, allow me to introduce you to my Powerful Employee Greasepit!" Back in Full Salesman mode, Limburger announced The Thing's arrival. "So, what's it run on, 10W-30?" Tony jokingly asked watching the thick greasy substance that was oozing and dripping off Greasepit.
"Heh, yes very droll." Limburger placatingly tittered. "Ah, don't let my immense operative's stature deceive you, but what He lacks in swiftness and stealth, he more than makes up for in the Strength Category, isn't that correct Greasepit?"
"Duh, huh what? Oh, no Boss, I made sure to take care of that before I came out just like you told me to, but I tink dat Gas Station will need a new magazine shelf." Greasepit's nonsensical response gets another very skeptical look from Tony Dracon.
"Grr-you-stupid-brick-brained-buffoon-Grr!" Limburger growled through grinding teeth before regaining his composure. "Heh, heh, yes, perhaps an Actual Demonstration of what I'm trying to pitch to you will help alleviate some of your obviously misplaced apprehensions." He looked around for something to do just that.
"Greasepit, do you perceive that derelict device of drudgery?" Limburger asked while pointing at an abandoned work truck next to a wall. "Huh, What? Oh, No Boss, I never do that, especially on a first date."
"THAT OLD DUMPTRUCK DO YOU SEE IT?!" Face going red Limburger roared at the Big Dummy. "Oh, yeah, I see it Mr. Limboiger!" Greasepit nodded. "Good." Limburger getting his composure back, pulled something like a small black pager from a pocket and pushed a button on its side.
"DESTROY IT!" He commanded. Suddenly what little sentience Greasepit seemed to have drained away, leaving only an empty animal look in his eyes. "GRRRAARRRGH!" He started growling The Giant Stomped over to the old truck!
Big Ham-sized hands turning into fists Greasepit started punching, kicking, and tearing away at the large truck! Metal crunched and tore as large chunks ripped and flew off as he attacked it savagely!
Limburger smiled darkly to himself seeing that he'd once again regained the looks of respect and some additional apprehension on Dracon and his Thug's faces just as he hoped it would. Dracon was so immersed in watching Greasepit in action, that he didn't even notice when Limburger removed Tony's stolen laser pistol with well-practiced ease.
He took aim at Greasepit's shoulder. "As I was saying Gentlemen, what My Employee lacks in Brains, He more than makes up for in Brawn." A Zap rang out as he shot him.
"GRRUUUUHH!?" Greasepit spun around, a small smoking singe mark on his slimy shoulder, but even that quickly faded away. "And in Durability!" He pushed the button on the side of the box again. Greasepit shook his head and regained what little senses he had, or as close to them as he ever did.
"Bwuwahhwha?" He felt his shoulder and looked up. "Stupid pigeons, I really shoulda brung my umbrella." Limburger smiled and handed Dracon his pistol back, who politely refused it. "Keep it, I got this one." He returned Limburger's smile and put his new gun in his inner pocket.
"Why, thank you, dear boy." He gave the pistol a cherishing look. "You also got a new partner." He held up his hand to seal the deal with Limburger, who took it. "Oh, I am ever so grateful, my dear boy, you Really don't know what this means to me!"
"Yeah, I bet." Tony smiled. "Not sure what this is gonna cost me, but it better be worth it." Tony gave the Chicago Businessman a look just to remind him that he wasn't someone to mess with either.
"Again, dear boy, there is no price, this is a partnership! Share and Share Alike, and I can Guarantee you, there will be MUCH to share!" Limburger smiled laying on the charm good and thick. "The only thing I expect is some shall we say Mutually Beneficial Cooperation in some inevitable combative occurrences."
"I get you, all for one huh, I understand that all right. Welcome to the Family." Tony said with a wave and turned back to Glasses and walked away. Limburger gave a little wave as he watched them depart. "The Beginning of a Beautiful Business Domesticity to be Sure!"
Tony waited a minute before turning to Glasses walking next to him. "So, have you learned anything more about our New Partner?" Glasses just shook his head. "I've been in touch with our Chicago Contacts, and they know as little about this guy as we do. He just showed up out of nowhere a few years ago, and before anybody knew it, His fingers were in every kind of deal going on, both legal and otherwise."
"Won't be the first deal I've made with the Devil, but at this point what have I got to lose." Tony chuckled as he and the Thugs faded back into the thick harbor fog. A devilish smile appeared on Limburger's face as his deceptively small ears heard everything the Mobster had said.
"Duh did I do good this time Boss?" Greasepit asks as he bumbles his way next to his employer. "Oh yes, dear boy, you achieved a level of passable pathetic achievement for once." Limburger insultingly congratulated the big fool, who simply smiled back at him stupidly.
"As for you, Mister DRACON, I wouldn't worry about any painful costs of our Very Fleeting Partnership. My Plans for You and this Planet are Definably not LONG TERM!"
Laughing evilly, he callously tossed the laser pistol into the polluted bay as the fog flowed in around him. Deep Demonic Laughter hung in the suddenly very chilly air.
To Be Continued…