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Kicking Ass With Both Hands.
By Bill | July 1, 2007
The air blows cool across the skyscraper-strewn city night like a sweaty guy blowing atop a heaping forkful of pasta at the Olive Garden. Nightdiver stands atop one of the aforementioned skyscrapers, looking down at his city below. His awesome black trenchcoat flaps in the breeze like Todd MacFarlane drew it.
“My city. I swore I would never come back to it, but it seems like she need’s me more than ever.”
Nightdiver heaves a sigh and flips up the collar of his trenchcoat, framing his determined face awesomely. He peers through his sunglasses at the flickering lights below and steps calmly forward off the building.
He plummets eighty, ninety, one hundred storeys. At the last possible moment before he splatters his body on the pavement like a stack of pulverized guts, his trusty motorcycle comes flying up the street out of nowhere. He lands perfectly on the seat at the last split second, the force of his impact forcing the motorcycle up into a spectacular wheelie. He wheelies away down Broad Street at one hundred and fourty miles per hour and the rear wheel bursts into flame.
“When they asked for someone to take out the garbage. They didn’t realize that garbage man was me. Now it’s personal. Look out. Nightdiver is back.”
Topics: By: Bill, Nightdiver | 1 Comment »
July 2nd, 2007 at 2:05 am
My heart is pounding. I need to know how Nightdiver might dispose of the garbage.