Sunday, June 24, 2001

War Machine #6 - Coffee With A Psycho

WAR MACHINE

#6 - "Coffee With A Psycho"

(by Mop-Boy)

***

Do you consider yourself a good person? Many people try to, think of themselves as having some worth, but most of the time, all they can think of is how they're such a waste of sperm. Because of this feeling of worthlessness, it causes many people to do something to make them feel better. Some people will volunteer their time for a charity cause, and some might donate money. There are also those who will only feel better by making others feel bad, and thereby causing another person to be ashamed of their conception. With people like that out there, it's a wonder we haven't just all snuffed it already...but there are people who just suck it up, kick back, and relax over a nice hot cup of coffee.

Somewhere in New York...

"Let me get a large double decaf mocha late, with low-fat milk, whipped cream, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a shot of raspberry."

"Will that be all sir?" replied the scrawny teenage cashier at Starchucks.

"Let me get a small coffee too." Mike replied as he began fishing some dollar bills out of his wallet.

"What kind of coffee?" asked the pimply employee.

"Just a small coffee.", answered Mike.

"What flavor coffee would you like?"

"Coffee flavored coffee."

"I'm not sure what you mean sir. Is that a flappuccino?"

"No! Coffee! Just a small cup of coffee!"

"Is that anything like a vanilla espresso?"

"Coffee! A small cup of regular black coffee!"

"Uh...what about an iced kappa late, with chocolate sprinkles, and chopped walnuts?"

"Listen...coffee....small...black...hot! No cream, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, chocolate sprinkles, chopped nuts, crushed Oreos, whipped cream, and no goddam cherry!!", demanded Mike.

"Why didn't you just say so sir?" The young cashier said, and then turned around, announcing the order, "Donna! One viente #4 late special, and a cup of the old style brew plain."

"Plain?" Donna replied. "Does he want cream or sugar?", replied Donna as she ferociously whipped up the late.

"No.", answered the whiney cashier.

"Flavor shot?"

"No."

"Cinnamon?"

"No."

"Nutmeg?"

"No."

"Whipped cream?"

"No."

"Any wheat grass, fruit, or vitamin supplements?"

"Um...let me ask.", replied the young cashier. He turned around to face Mike for a few seconds, then turned back to Donna. "No."

"What? The guy just wants a cup of coffee??"

"Yup."

"Whatever. The latté's done, it'll take a few minutes to fix up a coffee."

"And fill it to the top!", ordered Mike, as a small vein protruding from his forehead slowly pulsed and grew in size. "If that cup isn't on the verge of overflowing, I'll take this jar of chocolate-swirl cookie bars and shove them up a very uncomfortable place in your body!"

"Those are biscotties sir."

"GIVE ME MY FUCKING COFFEE!!!"

***

"Here's your coffee sir.", said the fairly young woman in a black and white maid's uniform as she slightly bent down to pour coffee into a fine porcelain cup resting on a delicately detailed saucer. Her hair was smooth, black, and cut no longer than the nape of her neck. Her soft skin was pale white, from her hands and face, to the cleavage heaving out of her blouse.

"Thank you my dear.", replied the slightly overweight, older gentleman, wearing a nice suit, and sporting a well groomed beard. His eyes drifted towards the woman's chest, as she poured the steaming coffee from the shiny silver spout. It's elegance matched the wealth the was obvious by the luxurious dining room.

"My pleasure Mr. Franklin.", she said as she finished pouring the coffee and stood up. She then glided over to a dashing looking younger gentleman, wearing a nice tuxedo. His hair was short, and his trimmed mustache curved upward as he smiled. "Would you like some coffee Mr. Stark?"

"Yes, please!", Tony said as he flipped his cup upright and sat it back down on the saucer.

The young woman stopped in front of Stark, bent down, and gently filled his cup, while in a subtle manner, Tony gazed upon her glistening bust.

"Nice cups." Tony commented.

"You like them?" Franklin replied, as he sipped his drink. "They're the finest money can buy."

"I'll bet they are." Stark said, as the maid finished pouring and stood back up. He took a sip of the brew, and looked back toward Franklin. "Perfect size too."

"Will there be anything else this evening Mr. Franklin?" said the lovely servant as she faced the large elderly gentleman.

"That will be all for the night, Monica. Thank you." replied the large man as he took another sip of his coffee. "Oh, and please give the chef my regards. It's the finest meal I've had yet."

"Yes sir Mr. Franklin," Monica replied as she turned and walked out of the dining room.

"That was a fine dinner Don.", Stark commented as he indulged in his hot drink.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it Tony.", replied Mr. Franklin as he emptied his cup. "Now if you don't mind, we need to talk..."

***

"Ok then, lets talk.", Mike said as he sat the java drinks he had bought, on a little round table just outside of the coffee shop.

The man known to Mike, only as Talon slipped his viente double decaf mocha late, with low-fat milk, whipped cream, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a shot of raspberry, from where he sat, out of the drink carrier, and then looked at it oddly. "You forgot a straw."

Mike flipped a straw onto the table, then sat down. "What happened back there when goldilocks showed up? He beat the crap outta me! It was like, I was powerless!!"

Talon picked up the straw and unwrapped it. He looked at it for a moment then frowned. "You bent my straw."

"Talon!!"

"Ok ok! It's like this, you see," Talon began explaining with a sigh as he inserted his straw into his hot drink. "Your powers...War Machine's powers, are derived from me. Actually it's more of a channeling effect through you, and into the big guy."

"If you knew this, then why did you leave before the fight?", replied Mike as he was too upset to take a sip from his cup. "I could have been killed, by that Norse dullard!! Or even squashed by that little freaky red robot and his clowny friend with the big cartoon gloves! Those guys were insane!!"

Talon stirred his drink a bit with his slightly mutilated straw. "Unfortunately, with all of my wonderful omnipotent powers and what not, when granting powers to mortals, it takes a strain on my being."

"So what you're telling me is that you're like some kind of battery?", asked Mike as he picked up his coffee, about to take a sip. "So when you run down, I'm left helpless, and can't even defend myself??"

"Something like that."

"That's bullshit!!", Mike exclaimed as he slammed his coffee down on the table, and causing half of the steaming hot cup to splash into his lap.

*** "Just complete bullshit!!"

"CHRIST ON A CROSS!!!", the young blonde woman cried as the scolding hot coffee seared her and ran down her legs. The mess stained her maid's uniform. "That coffee's friggin hot Monica!!"

"What the hell is this??", Monica exclaimed as she furiously read the front page of the Daily Bugle newspaper. "I can't believe this crap Gabrielle!!"

"Owie owie owie!", Gabrielle whined as she grabbed a damp washrag, she found on the kitchen counter and sponged herself off.

"Is everything alright in there?", called Donetto Franklin from beyond the kitchen.

"Fine sir!", replied Monica in a deceptively cheerful voice. "Sorry about that!"

"Oh yeah...", Gabrielle complained as she unlaced her blouse to clean what ran down her chest. She wasn't as full figured as Monica, but she had all the perfect proportions in the right places. "...just peachy!"

"This changes everything.", Monica grumbled. "I will have to radically alter my plans. Tonight, after Mr. Franklin is in bed, I'll have to...take care of him."

Gabrielle looked up, "...and the Miss. McIntyre?"

"We'll have to finish up with the dear doctor right away." Monica replied. She looked up from the newspaper and over to the younger maid, as she cleaned herself with her blouse open. Monica grinned mischievously. "Gabrielle, why don't you go to my room so we can...clean up my mess..."

*** "I can clean it just fine by myself, thank you!!"

"Fine, just trying to be helpful.", Talon said as sparks of energy crackled from his fingertips. "All I have to do is snap my fingers and it's gone. No dry cleaning expenses either!"

"Yeah well don't!" Mike retorted, as he carefully sopped up the now ice cold liquid from his pants. "I don't want to go out on another romp, beat up some burly super-dudes, only to have you flake out again, so I can get my ass kicked by a troop of boy scouts!"

"Oh come on.", The powerful deity said as he sipped his viente double decaf mocha late, with low-fat milk, whipped cream, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a shot of raspberry. "You'd at least have enough power to fly away, before they'd have time to pull out their swiss army knives and use their can openers on you!"

"Gee. Thanks for your moral support." Mike said as he sat down, and took a sip of his slightly warm cup of coffee. He looked down at his brew and frowned.

"Hello! What's this?", Talon said as he reached over to another table, and pulled the Daily Bugle newspaper, out of a large bald man's hands. "Well how about that! You made the front page, from California, all the way out here!" He turned the paper around to show Mike a picture of War Machine, on the beach, face shots of the people Talon had challenged then killed, and a demolished Electro Shack store. The headline read: 'WAR MACHINE ATTACKS WEST COAST!'

"Hey youse!!", the large bald man stood up and towered over Talon. His muscles rippled with anger. He looked to be in his late twenties, and in excellent health, as he appeared to be a body builder. "Youse better hand dat back befo I does get mid-evil on youse ace!"

Talon waved his hand in front of the muscle-bound linguist, in a dismissive manner. "Oh calm down or you'll give yourself a heart attack."

Suddenly the large man clutched his chest and fell to the ground, convulsing and began foaming at the mouth...then he died.

"Oh bother." Mike said, as he stood up and headed back inside of Starchucks.

"Where are you going?", Mr. Talon asked as he sipped more of his drink.

"They gave me friggin decaf. I'm gonna go shove a jar of swirly chocolate cookie sticks up the cashier's exit port."

"Biscotties?? They've got Biscotties! I love those. Save me one, would you?"

***

"I just love chocolate swirled Biscotties!", Mr. Franklin said as he munched on the crunchy treat. He held the cookie over a plate, so as to try to not get crumbs in bed. He kept the light on the nightstand on as he ate, so he could finish reading the cover story of the Daily Bugle. "Poor Tony. He's in a lot of trouble right now."

"Not as much as trouble as you're in!", said a voice as the plate, and biscotti in his hand was knocked across the room, and shattered against the wall. Suddenly Franklin found himself with a leather whip wrapped tightly around his neck, to the point he could hardly breath. A woman, dressed in a rather revealing leather outfit with studs and spikes, sat down over him.

Franklin tried to speak, "Monica...I..."

"Quiet you pig! You will address me as the Raveness!!", she interrupted as she grabbed Donetto's discolored face and squeezed it tightly, making his lips pucker. She looked around the bedspread, and saw all of the crumbs he had left on his bed. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean this crap up every morning?? I've nicely asked you not to eat in bed, especially cookies!"

"Biscott...", Franklin tried to say, on the verge of blacking out.

"I guess I have no choice, but to punish you for what you have done!!", the Raveness said as she reached over and turned out the light...

*** Gabrielle had a grim look on her face as she stood outside of the door, and listened to the torture that was transpiring on the other side. She wearily stood there for a few moments in her robe, and bare feet. Her hair was disheveled, and she had a bruise forming around her left eye. She looked as though she had made a mad dash for Mr. Franklin's room, as she had forgotten to tie her robe. She remained there until she heard Mr. Franklin give out a gasping cry for help...and then there was silence.

"I'd better go now.", Gabrielle thought to herself as she tied up her robe and reluctantly walked away. "I've got to finish Doctor McIntyre before morning, or Monica will have my head."

NEXT ISSUE: "Dark Revelations"

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