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SuperHero U (continued) Everything Jake # 703 and 704 By Mike Rosenzweig A brief recap because I know there's a lot of reading (or, if you're just joining us, this is what has happened since Sunday…) TWO HOURS AGO: Jake and Mercy are standing outside the building where they are taking a self-defense class where all you do is fight each other while sadistic and mean Professor Jenkins watches and ridicules you. And you never get hurt, physically at least. Jake and Mercy (who he still likes, after all, she's hot and has some kind of superpower (?)) are talking about weird it is that both of them were referred to this special class by an uncle neither one of them knew they had. Jake just thinks it to be a coincidence, Mercy isn't so naive. NOW: We're in the class, Jake just got his ass kicked and handed back to him by another student, the hulking Arthur. Jake re-upped and is taking on Artie again, and from the looks of it, isn't going to fare much better. MEANWHILE: Kelly and Megoth have a mysterious plan about something, and, by the looks of it, it involves Jake in some extent, but we're not sure what yet (I'm sure, but I'm not ready to tell yet.) That's the recap. Let's get on with. #703 NOW: Jake again hears a hollow bonking sound of his head and hard gym mat colliding at a speed in which it really shouldn't be. But he's on his feet again in no time, ignoring the fuzziness and extreme throbbing now coming from his temples. "That all you got, fat guy?" "That the best you can do, Jake, fat guy?" Scattered laughter, even Mercy smiles. It really wasn't a good insult. Artie swings a wide punch and Jake ducks underneath it and tries to tackle Artie. It's the fourth time in a row Jake has tried to get his arms around him. "Don't you learn, pansy boy?" "Oh, and pansy boy is that muc---" Jake's legs go in the air and he is slammed down yet again. Ringing. There's now ringing and thumping coming from Jake's brain. He thinks he's bleeding again, and rolls and gets up again. Jenkins isn't saying much, just standing there with one of his hands on his chin. He's a little disappointed. Sure, he's been riding Jake the whole semester or so, and there has been a little progress, but not that much. Should be more. With Jake's potential, should be an awful lot more. Jenkins thinks that there's fire under there somewhere, it's how to get it out he's a little short on. Obviously, constant ridiculing isn't working. Neither is degrading him. Jake either just doesn't care or is too thick or too stupid to let it get to him. There's got to be something that gets to him, something that has got to make him explode. Swing. Miss. Tackle. Slam. Repeat. TWO HOURS AGO: "I think it's time to go in, Merce, okay? Why are you looking at me like that?" "Did I say that I was thinking about having sex with you before?" "Um… yeah." "Okay." Mercy opens the door to the building and before she closes it their eyes connect and she leaves a smile that is burnt into Jake's conscious. He tries to say something but the door closes. What the heck does that mean? Jake shakes his head and contemplates skipping the class. All that's going to happen is Jenkins is going to make them fight and Jake will most likely lose his turn. As usual. It's not that Jake doesn't enjoy the thrill of beating each other up and not getting hurt, it's that he's no good at it. He tries, sometimes shows flashes of brilliance, but, there's something missing, something not quite there, and too far off to tell what it is. If he was a painter, he would paint a horrible painting, with just one part of it painted so good that people who knew art would say that in a couple of years, this kid is going somewhere. This kid is going to be Someone. But when? When? Same thing with this class. Sure, it's not really much, just, say, an under painting, but Jake's not stupid enough to know it's about more than that. There are the classes he was asked to miss, Mercy said that they were fighting still, but in their mind. Jake knows what that's about, and he isn't afraid to guess why he's not welcome there. Jenkins doesn't want me using my "powers". He doesn't want anything bad to happen to Becky. Becky. Jeez, it's been way too long since we've seen her. Maybe over the summer. The summer. Class is almost over, two weeks or less, and Jake hasn't even thought about what he's going to be doing. Hang out and play video games, but there are no good games out, for any console system. Sure, there's some good PC games, but Jake's not too keen on them. One thing he's sure about is he is not going to be working with Hector at his dad's law firm. He visited there briefly over the winter (he did, we didn't, there's only so much room…). Hector wasn't there, so Jake left. His dad said Hector went on a trip, like he usually does. Nothing more was discussed. Wonder if Mercy's uncle works with Hector? What if they're in some secret society of long lost uncle summoners --- Summoners. Kiani. That special juice she gave him. There's something to do after class. Maybe, even, one day before… #704 MEANWHILE (someplace completely different): (it's okay, folks, SHU ties it all together on Sunday…) "Did you get t'that spill up in the caf, Sweet?" Swag stood there, holding his mop with both his hands. He was waiting for an answer. He sighed and his body felt old. He's only 32, but he felt 52. Too much drinking, probably. It was okay once every couple of weeks, sure. It was okay every weekend. It was even okay every weekend and Thursday night. It's not okay everyday, and while he realizes it, it's too late to stop. Live by the bottle, die by the bottle, that's what Sweet Dick always said. "Yea yea, Swaggles, shut yer traps, we got mores company…" "Aw shit on my face, is Raggy Man back?" "I tinks so. Not too sure. There's someun' definitely `ere though. Caught em right and so I did." Swag hurries over, dropping his mop and the handle makes a really loud sound that makes him jump. Mop handles shouldn't be made to fall so loudly, he thinks. He turns the corner and there is Sweet Dick, holding a sawed off at some dude in the shadows. All that's visible is two feet in socks that have seen better days, and legs up to mid thigh, bare. Nothing is moving; it looks like it's dead. "Is… is it dead?" "I don'ts think so." "Didja shoot it?" "Think I'm crazy?" "Has it moved?" "Naw, but, the way Raggy Man just gone up and disappeared two days after he done showed up (heh heh, can't show everything -M) I take nuthing… nuthing fer granted, know what I mean?" "I know whatcha mean. So whatta we do?" "I tink we should call Jenkins dis time. Get security down here, eh?" "Okay-dokey, you cover me while I go call the red phone, okay?" "Cover you? Just go an' call!!!" Swag stumbled over his mop on the way to call the Head of Security. Last time with Raggy Man (or so what they call him, his name just might be different. Everyone remember him, right? That one strip with the two janitors and the guy with the mask on? It was a while ago. Go look though. It was a pretty good drawing, even for me ---M) was with them they didn't call Jenkins and it got hectic, Jim Beam hectic, especially when the NYPD was nosing about. Funny, how Raggy disappeared the next day. Swag wonders why that thought in particular popped in his head, and he decides to take a pull from a small flask that's buried deep in one of his pockets. It doesn't burn nearly enough on it's way down. Damn you, Jim Beam, damn you. The red phone only has one button and the sticker used to say "Security 911" but now security is all faded out and Sweet Dick Sharpied "Always Remember" next to it. Swag thought that was nice, their little homage. He pushed the button and waited for an answer. NOW: Artie spun Jake around holding on to one of his legs and one of his arms and for the rest of the class this looked like a grand finale to an exercise in futility. Artie was spinning really, really fast. Jake was sort of having fun, spinning around like that. It reminded him of how when he was younger his father used to spin his around like that and it was the best thing in the whole world. Of course, Artie didn't look anything like Jake's father, but then Jake wasn't slammed into a wall afterwards either. The moment of nostalgia soon ended with Jake being smashed against the wall at a speed where, if it wasn't for (a) the padding, (b) the pain disrupter, and (c) Jake's own inert invulnerability, he would have been a splotch of gut and skin which would have taken a power washing to get rid of. He knew he was broken, and decided to just lie there, literally hearing his ribs stitch themselves back together. This has to be what Wolverine feels like, this is so awesome, he thinks. Mercy goes over to him, and some of the class is excused. She puts her hand on his shoulder, but quickly pulls it back when it pops itself back in. "Bruno, you're pushing the limits of what that pain device can do, some of it might just end up being permanent one day." Jake manages to lift his arm up and signal the 'thumbs up'. His jaw still isn't fixed so he can't say to Jenkins, groovy. "Oh, crap Jake, you look like shit." He looks over to Mercy, she looks seriously concerned. He wants to tell her its no problem, there's no way Jenkins is going to let them get really hurt. After all, it still is a credited course. Arthur looks a bit winded, also. "You okay there, Jake? I didn't mean to break your back…" "And his ribs", Jenkins adds, standing there with his arms folded. "You're excused, Arthur, go shower and we'll see you-" "I wanna make sure… he's okay. I didn't mean to throw him so hard." "Yes you did, Arthur. I saw it in you, you loved every second of it and you can't deny it. Now go. I'll mop up this mess." "But… but…" "Mercedes, Artie here thinks that you should be with him because he beat up your boyfriend. He's the stronger male and can't understand why you went over to Jake. Can you please explain it to him?" "I--- I---" (Artie, who was thinking that exact thought) "He's got a bigger dick, plain and simple. Sorry, Artie, you're a nice guy, but… well… tiny dick." Yes, Mercy does the finger to the thumb and leaves like a centimeter between. Jake coughs to everyone else; but we know he's laughing. And he's almost better now anyway but it keeping that to himself to. "Had enough, Artie? I think this class is over. Bruno, when you decide to get up come see me. Mercy, you know you're getting an A, right? Fucking hilarious. Let's go, Arthur, now…" Arthur just stands there, his face is bright red and his ego the size of a very tiny dick. It's not true, he wants to say, yell, scream, my dick is the size of a log. A huge fucking log that would knock you over in a second you little bitch. A fucking log. No, two fucking logs. "Two fucking logs." "Did you say something, Artie?", it was Mercy, Jake was sitting up now and she had her arm around him. Jake was smiling. Jenkins was in his office, they could hear the phone had just rang and he was talking on it. "No… no." "Thought not." Jake picked up his hand and waved to Artie. "No hard feeling, small dick?" Mercy and Jake laughed, Jake was just about finished healing, but he wasn't about to let Mercy take her arm off of him. Artie turned red again and started to turn around. "Fuck you Bruno. The best part of you fucking slid down your mother's leg-" Jake was in front of Artie before Artie fully turned around. Jake's hands were tightly holding Artie's shirt. Artie wasn't sure if he was able to get away. Jake's eyes were almost on fire. "What. Did. You. Say?"    
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EVERYTHING JAKE is TM & (C) 2000-2011 by Mike Rosenzweig. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
