Den of Stupidity

There's a bar in Comfort bay that does very little advertising. Customers who wonder in usually turn right back around once they see the clientale. Big burly men with sore attitudes, grim faces and more scars than can be easily identified glower and lurk at their tables. There's no music and no jukebox. A lone TV operates over the bar and it's always turned to sports. TRhere is an air of futility over the place, almost like the day after Christams when you realize that the holidays came and went and your haul was not nearly as big as when it was still wrapped under the tree. It's called the 'Sucker Punch' and on any given day, there's always someone willing to give you a demonstration.

It's a bar that caters to henchmen that work for super-villains. Not the cool henchmen like I was. No, these are thugs, kidnappers, guards and oyher non-powered cannon fodder. Scum who couldn't clean up enough to get jobs as garbage men. These guys spend their money on whores and X-boxes and then come slinking into here to bum a drink off whatever loser just got back from a bank heist and was given scraps by his super-villain boss.

I walked into the bar and surveyed them all with cold disdain. I had my Blastket tucked roguishly in my belt and 1stMateBot was standing behind me with his one good optical sensor glowing red. Conversation stopped as these liqour soaked brains realized I wasn't here on a recruiting drive.

"My name is Scarlett Drake and I need some information."

The bartender picked up some sort of nasty machine gun from behind the counter. The thing looked heavily modified and for some reason was shooting steam from a nozzle. No telling what super-villain it came from.

"My name is Rip, and I don't give a shit what you need. This is neutral ground. No super-villains are allowed to start any trouble."

"Oh yes, I've heard of that," I said. "It's pretty clever. If a super-villain starts trouble, you put the word out to not work for them. You boycott their schemes and before they know it, they have to drive their own getaway car and beat up their own bank tellers. I admire your spirit."

"But boys, I don't use you punks. I have an all robot crew and if I don't get some information right now, 1stMateBot here is going to let loose with his rapid fire laser cannon. Do you see my point of view now?"

"Oh man, it wasn't me!" one unlucky punk screamed. His companions helpfully scattered from the table he was sitting at. I walked over to him and took out my Blastket. Rip didn't make a move. Wow, no loyalty for customers I guess.

"It wasn't you what?" I demanded.

"I didn't tell Choice nothing! I don't even know where your base is!"

What the? I made a big show of cocking my Blastket and pointed it at his crotch. "Start from the beginning. When did the Choice ask you where I lived?"

"Last night! Me and my friends were standing around doing nothing when choice runs up to Sal and just kicks him in the back! Then she punched Paulie in the chest and cracked something and then grabbed me by the hair and rammed my head in the concrete. Then she started asking me questions. Wanted to know all about you, and where your base was and why were you attacking hospitals. I didn't tell her anything! And she was really mad too but I kept quiet!"

I pistol whipped him with my Blastket. "Because you didn't know anything you yellow dog!" Crap, Choice? I've seen her. Six feet tall black amazon with a social streak. She's like a female Shaft and she's ticked off at me. I must have hit her boyfriend at one of those hospitals or something. That is an extra complication.

"You got what you want, now git!" Rip said to me.

I snorted. "That's not what I needed. My issue is with General Surgeon."

The quiet bar got quieter.

"General Surgeon gave me a little gift and I need to talk to him about the antidote. Now, someone with the name of General most likely isn't a loner. One of you landlubbers has to have worked for him and I just want an address. Tell me where he is and I'll settle this myself."

More silence. Not unexpected. A guy who doses me up with sentient germs and doesn't kill me outright is a sadistic type. That kind of methodology is going to be more fearsome than a techno-pirate. I planned for that.

"Fine," I sighed and touched a button on my skull belt buckle. Two sprayers emerged from 1stMateBot and hosed the entire bar in a fine mist. The terror was instant, even the bartender ducked under the bar.

"You see, some of the General's infection was left over so I put it in aerosol form. If you bastards won't help me, then you can die of the same thing infecting me."

And with that, I turned around and strode out. I've been practicing my walk so I hope it came across as a sexy stomping out by a super-villain. Yeah, they're low life henchmen, but the reputation is still important.

Outside the 'Lustful Raider' was waiting. I climbed in and demanded a status report from BosunBot.

"Running CrowsNest Program. Monitoring Thirty cellphone calls from within Target location."

I smiled and looked at the bar. "filter and search for keyword, Antidote."

"Found one call," BosunBot reported. "Playing now."

"Walker, this is Harry, you got to help me."

"Harry, this had better be important."

"It is, that crazy bitch Scarlett Drake just sprayed me with whatever General Surgeon hit her with. She was looking for the antidote. You got to give it me man!"

"Did you tell her anything?"

"No man, I know better than that! I just need the antidote. I don't want to die. I've seen how he kills people."

Long sigh. I know that sigh. It's the sigh of cleaning something up.

"Come to the old Bass theater and I'll hook you up," Walker said. "Don't come by till 9."

"Thanks man, you're a life saver! No need to tell the General this right?"

"No Harry, it's cool."

Click.

This is why I use Robots and not human crew. Harry got hit with some misted Avian water and he ran straight to his contact for General Surgeon. If Harry actually shows up at the Bass theater, he's a dead man. It was obvious that Walker was going to kill him. Are human henchmen just that stupid? How do villains get anything accomplished? I guess that's why super-villains don't rule the world.

It all works for me. I rather interrogate Walker since he is more likely to know something useful. Of course, if I'm really lucky, General Surgeon will be there himself. Ha! My first super-villain turf war is going to rock.