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Book: The Face of Satan's Bog
Chapter 27: Smack in the Gob

Justin sat motionless on his bench at the rear of the Blenheim’s bridge. With the cold efficiency of a digital post office he filtered, sorted, stacked, and analysed the myriad of data packets flowing into his manufactured mind from the Blenheim’s sensor array. A detailed contour map of the topside of the crashed vessel below appeared in his mind’s eye as a 100Hz flicker-free vector image of green and blue. The cyborg examined the image, paying particular attention to the rear of the giant vessel. Several hundred objects were moving across the engine section and onto the harbour walls. Justin issued a few commands to the sensor array. The commands were obeyed and an enlarged sensor map of the objects appeared. Instantly, a more detailed analysis of the objects was formulated:

1. The objects were non-living.

2. The objects contained cyborg systems.

3. The objects movements were servo-assisted.

Justin’s posi-digital-hypercube-derived-omni-directional-phantom-powered brain developed a logical conclusion from the data. The objects were mechanoids - fellow artificial beings! This conclusion automatically activated Justin’s inorganic motivation sub-routine sending simulated synthetic excitement around his internal data-net. His processing speed was instantly augmented. He sent a new series of commands to the sensor array. This time the array zoomed in on only one of the objects. A highly detailed analysis popped into Justin’s consciousness. The vector image that formed included every contour of the object’s surface, texture, movement characteristics, and odour. A new logical conclusion was drawn - the objects were not plain mechanoids. From their unsteady lumbering, their rusty hand weapons, and their rancid aroma they could be only one thing: reanimated corpses. A disappointment sub-function executed which instantly purged Justin of all the simulated synthetic excitement messages.

Justin requested an analysis of the objects’ direction. The Blenheim replied without delay. The corpses were heading towards the ruined downtown district of the city. As the entire population of the downtown area had been killed by the impact of the huge ship, Justin decided that they were of no immediate threat to liberty and justice, and also that no immediate action was required. He returned his attention to the sensor reading of the main ship.

A new reading appeared, this time from the front of the vessel. Justin monitored three objects as they made their way slowly across the hull. He ordered a more detailed scan. In a millisecond one appeared. It was clear now that the centre object was pulling the other two, and considering the immense mass of one of the other two the centre object was remarkably strong. Another millisecond later Justin knew why. The Blenheim’s computer identified the centre object and informed the cyborg. It was Sind’a Thighs, the trainee bounty hunter that had accompanied Peter the Ace and Panman on their covert mission.

The sensor showed that Sind’a Thighs had dropped the two beings she was dragging and was now waving.

Justin took the hint.

With the grace and might of a D’doc sub-surface condor, the Blenheim descended.

A chill ocean breeze blew from the west and ruffled Sind’a Thighs’s remarkably short skirt. Goose pimples appeared all over her bare and well-toned legs. She didn’t mind though: all trainee bounty hunters were taught to ignore goose pimples and other skin adjustments during the first term of year one. As usual Sind’a Thighs had topped the class. She had even broken the endurance record on the S.A.B.S. (Severe Acne and Blemish Simulator).

The trainee bounty hunter watched as the Blenheim made its majestic descent, silhouetted against the bright moonlight. Already the air around had been noticeably warmed by the ship’s astonishing engine exhaust.

Sind’a Thighs looked down at Digby. He was in a remarkably bad way. His legs were lacerated and shattered, and several of his ribs protruded from his chest. His deathly looks were enhanced by the pale blue light of the moon.

Her prisoner, Mister Blister, looked even worse. His bulbous body was torn and contorted, and his face was cracked and disfigured beyond necessity. The trainee bounty hunter smiled broadly. The thrill of capturing the villainous tyrant sent shudders of pleasure through her body. Her only regret was that his injuries were so bad that he might not make it back to the palace to experience the severity and ferocity of Amino justice.

A thunderous explosion lit up the entire surface of the Satan’s Bog. The blast wave almost knocked Sind’a Thighs off her feet. She squinted as she looked towards the light. Shards of red hot debris had been blasted into the air and were spreading out like flares. After a few seconds the almost blinding light faded and from out of the smoke and flames a dark shape emerged. The trainee didn’t recognise it. Slowly it turned until the large weapons array on its topside was pointing straight at her, then with a rumble of powerful motors it started to approach.

Sind’a Thighs instantly went on the defensive. She took up a cat-like stance and waited for the inevitable - the monstrous machine that was advancing towards her would not get her without a fight. Of course, she realised the incredible insanity of unarmed combat with such a well-endowed vehicle of war, but she also realised that it was only that very insanity that could save her and allow her to escape without a scratch - Panman had taught her that at the casino onboard the Korma Sauce.

Above her the Blenheim was less than a hundred metres away and nearing touchdown. Why didn’t it fire on the approaching vehicle? Why didn’t it help her? Was this some kind of sadistic test?

Two other craft could now be seen in the dark sky circling above. What was going on? The noise of thrusters and engines and wind was affecting Sind’a Thighs’ mental stability. Had she come this far only to die like a hog?

The trainee bounty hunter was disgusted with herself for sinking into such negativity. She concentrated hard, shutting out the noise around her and focusing on the swelling insanity inside her soul. It was growing and evolving. It could save her. It will save her!

The dark vehicle was almost upon her now. Sind’a Thighs stared at the mass of potent weaponry bearing down on her. She waited for the inevitable moment when streams of energy would lash out, and she waited for the stench of burning flesh as she and Digby and Mister Blister were incinerated. She wondered how even the power of insanity could possibly save her. She wondered what Peter the Ace and Panman would do in this situation.

The bulky vehicle stopped only two metres in front of her. Two bright headlamps switched on. Sind’a Thighs shielded her eyes. Was this to be her moment - her time to meet the Almighty Impaler, god of all science?

There was a deep thud and a crunch to her left, followed by a low hiss. The Blenheim had landed. The vehicle in front of her turned off its engine. A strange calm fell upon the world. Sind’a Thighs noticed the cold breeze again. She waited - silent and proud.

There was clunk from the dark vehicle. “Yo, Sind’a Thighs!”

The trainee looked to the side of the vehicle. A figure, awesome in stature and powerful in build was climbing out through a hatchway. Another figure followed. Sind’a Thighs was relieved beyond explanation. Orgasmic pleasure and relief spread across her body. “My masters!”

It was Panman and Peter the Ace, still dressed in their academic disguises.

The trainee dropped to her knees. “Oh how I have missed your guidance and wisdom over the last few hours!”

Panman ignored her and ran right passed.

Sind’a Thighs looked up at Peter the Ace. “What is wrong? Have I displeased him?”

Peter the Ace smiled and stroked his long false beard. “No, I don’t think so, he’s just inconceivably hungry. I think he went for a snack.” He pointed.

The trainee bounty hunter looked just in time to see Panman run up the Blenheim’s entry ramp and disappear inside.

“Who are they?” Peter the Ace asked, pointing at the two limp bodies lying on the broken hull.

Sind’a Thighs got to her feet. “That is Digby, the only one of the passengers that I managed to save.”

“Excellent!” The bounty hunter said. “I didn’t expect you to rescue any at all! Who’s the other one?”

“Mister Blister.”

Peter the Ace laughed. “Your sense of humour is developing well. Seriously, who is it?”

The trainee bowed her head. “I am serious. That is Mister Blister.”

The first-class bounty hunter walked over to the scarred bulbous man and quickly examined him. “We’ll, he’s certainly ugly enough to be a diabolical criminal fiend.” He looked at Sind’a Thighs. “You have exceeded all my expectations. And I had very high expectations indeed.” He walked over to the trainee and looked her straight in the eyes. “Well done, my dear. Well done indeed!”

All of the sudden praise from her god-like mentor was almost too much. Sind’a Thighs grabbed Peter the Ace in a tight embrace and sobbed heavily. “You honour me beyond my wildest dreams!”

“There’ll be time for this later.” Peter the Ace said. The tone of his voice was noticeably more serious.

The trainee let go and looked up at him. “I have offended you. Please forgive me.”

“Nothing offends me.” He said, looking away from her. He nodded. “What I mean is that there is something more urgent to deal with.”

Sind’a Thighs followed his gaze.

Mister Blister was standing up. He leapt towards the trainee. “Die, bounty pig sister!”

Before he could reach Sind’a Thighs, Peter the Ace launched a truly breath-taking left-hand power-punch. Mister Blister’s face absorbed the full force of the blow. He flew backwards more than five metres. His head tore off and flew even further.

“Fuckin’ fantastic smack in the gob, Ace!” Ross Mental shouted. He stepped out of the side hatch of the tank dragging the unconscious forms of Brother Drool and Professor AmpléBläckett Hàgênmåclídensõn. “You knocked his fuckin’ block clean fuckin’ off! Fuckin’ phenomenal!”

Peter the Ace looked a little disappointed. “What a pathetic and unchallenging opponent!”

He spoke too soon.

Mister Blister had struggled to his feet once again and stood proudly, if a little unsteadily. “Ha harr!! No bearded academic old fart punches me and lives! Prepare to swallow your own brains!” He staggered forwards.

“The fucker’s headless and he’s still fuckin’ talking!” Ross Mental yelled with amazement.

“Indeed.” Peter the Ace said, perplexed. “Maybe he mechanised himself in same way he mechanised those corpses?”

“Well, whatever the fat fucker did, he’s going down!”

“Ah harr!” Mister Blister screamed in apparent delight. “It’s Ross Mental!”

“How in fuck’s locker do you know me?”

Mister Blister stepped into the light. Everyone expected to see a hideous display of torn muscle and spouting arteries in place of Mister Blister’s head. Instead they saw another head. A bald head, scarred and scabby, and with a face of deepest evil - a strangely familiar face.

Ross Mental reacted in his usual way. “It’s that fuckin’ fucker of a fucked up fuckin’ fuck off featured double fucker!!!”

Peter the Ace remained composed and calm. “Hello, Lawrence.”

Lawrence smiled with delight at Peter the Ace. “My infamy is complete! Even academic pith pots like you recognise me! I am truly the finest sinister entity in the galaxy!”

Peter the Ace smiled back at the lord of puss. “Even at such close range my disguise fools you. You are an ignoramus of the highest degree.”

Lawrence was confused and disturbed. “What are you talking about?! How dare you insult the Master of Demise?”

Peter the Ace removed his beard.

The self-appointed Master of Demise lost several shades of colour from his complexion. “It can’t be! Peter the Ace!”

“In the name of the Superior Beings of the Great Hall of the Palace of Amino, I arrest you on the charge of committing all possible crimes ever.”

Peter the Ace stepped forwards and grabbed Lawrence.

“Bastard fuckwit!” Lawrence shrieked. He pulled away. There was a loud tearing sound. The evil one ran like an elf, leaving Peter the Ace holding the mummified carcass of Mister Blister.

Simultaneously, Ross Mental and Sind’a Thighs leapt into the air.

Lawrence only managed to run a few metres before the bounty hunter and the trainee landed on him. He was pinned violently to the floor. Blood vessels all over his body burst under the sheer force of the attack.

He lay there groaning, crushed and still. Blood flowed freely from every orifice.

Ross Mental stood on Lawrence’s neck and crouched down, pressing hard with his battle boot. “It’s over, you fuckin’ freak!”

Sind’a Thigh’s stepped off Lawrence’s back. She had felt and heard most of his vertebrae shatter. There was no chance of him getting up again.

Peter the Ace walked over to the crushed form of Lawrence. “It looks like your existence as a depraved criminal overlord has finally reached its miserable conclusion.”

Lawrence groaned feebly. “You’re doomed…”

Ross Mental pressed his boot even harder into Lawrence’s neck. Consciousness left the evil one. The foul-mouthed bounty hunter looked up at his superior. “Should I lock the fucker in the Blenheim’s maximum security detention cell, or should I crush the fucker’s brain?”

Peter the Ace thought for a moment. “Tempting though it is to destroy his brain, we should really keep him alive so he can experience the full might of total Amino justice. The detention cell may not be good enough though - he escaped from it once before. You’d better put him in the super reinforced cage in the cargo bay.”

“But that’s for fuckin’ ferocious beasts of the most hideous fuckin’ variety!”

“Indeed it is.”

“Oh well, whatever you say!” Ross Mental said. He picked up Lawrence’s broken body and headed towards the ship.

Peter the Ace looked at Sind’a Thighs. She appeared to be in a mild state of shock. He put his arm around her. “It appears that you have captured the Palace of Amino’s most wanted evil dude - a phenomenal achievement. You should be oozing with joy!”

“I am overwhelmed.” She said quietly. “I had studied your encounters with Lawrence. I never expected to go up against such a demonic mastermind so early in my career.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to either.”

The trainee shivered. “If I had known I would never have challenged him. My lack of experience and skill could have jeopardised the entire mission!”

“The fact is though, you did. And you succeeded!”

Sind’a Thighs smiled. “I guess I did.”

“And anyway, Lawrence’s major threat was the gruesome and weirdly imaginative way he used his weapons and undead armies on the wealthy and innocent. Without them to help him he’s a weak and feeble opponent, bony and without hope.”

The trainee hugged her idol. “Thank you for your kind and wise words.”

“No problem.”

Peter the Ace disconnected the trainee from his torso and walked over to the three unconscious bodies. “Right, we should get these people into the Blenheim’s sickbay immediately. They need hi-tech medical assistance. I’ll take the professor and Brother Drool. You take your new friend.”

They both grabbed hold of the bodies and dragged them into the ship.

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