lieutenantantichrist | [10] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "Because You're Crackheads, Children."

[ACTION]

[Something streaks across the skies above Goldenrod. It jags back and forth, gaining and dropping altitude in sudden swoops. It nearly smacks into the top of a building but lurches to the side just in time.]

[Anybody with very good eyesight might be able to make out that it's a Crobat, with Blake clinging desperately to its back.]

[Anybody with very good hearing might be able to make out]

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKfuckfuckfuck...

[He's hanging on for his life as four wings flap around him and his stomach does a great impression of a bunch of furious weasels in a burlap bag. In a rare second of flying straight, as they pass over a street, Blake spots some blond hair.]

[It can't be...no, those damn stupid glasses are unmistakable.]

[Blake's eyes light up with determination.]

[If there's one thing that can cut through terror for life and limb, it's the prospect of petty revenge.]

Down![He shoves at the bat's shoulder, making it lurch. Ray Liotta is still getting the hang of flying with the extra weight and noise.] Down, goddammit!

[The bat swoops almost to the ground, giving Blake a chance to see the storefronts woosh by and really understand how fucking fast they are going, but he has something he need to do.]

[He yells] Hey asshole!

[Then he goes to punch him in the head.]

[VIDEO]

[The feed comes up on Blake sitting in Goldenrod's bar. He's a little out of breath. There's a few scratches on his face to go with the leaves on his shirt and the twigs in his hair.]

[He orders a shot of whiskey for him and one for the Crobat that's balanced on two stools next to him.]

[Blake drinks his in a gulp, and lets his hand fall heavily to the bar.]

[He looks to the Gear. His eyes are showing a little too much white and a touch of a leftover manic gleam. His lips twitch up.]

So I just flew on a bat.

What's the dumbest thing you've ever done?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Blake waves his hand unsteadily toward him without looking up.] Fuck you.

[He recognizes that voice.] I don't need any shit from Spiderman's friend right now.

Not his friend.

But me, when I want to fly, I just make a suit. Well a few of them.

[He glances around, clearly not at all concerned about being told to fuck off. Why should he? He's been told it a lot.]

And out of all the things to fly with, why a bat, you know there's birds big enough to ride here, right? I mean I have a bird in my pocket I can ride. Which sounds a little creepy.

Suits don't fly.

[The guy isn't leaving, so Blake is getting another drink.]

Ray Liotta's what I got. You got a problem with that?

Birds are for pussies.

Well, it's more an armoured full body prosthetic.

[Tony raises an eyebrow at him, as Pep gets behind Tony.]

Dummy's not a bird for pussies. Although, saying it to her face would be interesting actually.

Pros-- like a wooden leg? [Blake's even more lost.]

[Writhe beneath his pitiless logic.]

If she's so great, how come you call her Dummy?

Something like that, except wooden legs don't help you fly or protect you from gunfire.

[He glances around and shrugs.]

Might have named her after someone, it's just something I do I wouldn't read too much into it.

[Blake's head is swimming a little from the shot on top of the near-death experience, so he can't make head or tails of that.] Sure, buddy. Whatever you say.

You named her after somebody named Dummy?

I'm starting to wonder if you have any sense of imagination, especially considering where you are.

[He rocks back on his heels a moment, pretending to think about the question.]

Not so much a somebody as a something.

[completely shamelessly] Nope. No imagination whatsoever.

[A something called Dummy...]

If you're a fuckin' ventriloquist, I'm outta here.

Believe me. I've never talked for him.

Dummy was the first robot I ever built back when I was 15

[Expecting him to believe some of these things is plain damn insulting.]

What, you mean one of those Lego ones?

Fifteen year olds don't build robots. They play video games and try to steal Playboys.

No? Why would I play with Legos? I built my first engine when I was six. I think you're really not getting how much of a genius I am here.

Also, I never had to steal playboys, I just made people buy me them, until going to the manson myself for my one of my 18th parties.

[He shrugs casually.]

I used to be kind of rich before coming here, remember?

I'm getting a good idea of how fulla shit you are.

[He's run into plenty of people who make up the stupidest crap and act like you're the unreasonable one for not believing it.]

You were a magic rich genius boy. Sure. Did you have a pony, too?

That statement isn't as true as you think.

[He gives him a bored look, because Blake's disbelief is starting to get tired.]

There's no such thing as magic. [He pauses] Does Ferarri count as having a pony? Because I never really bought a mustang, I don't think.

Sure, you'd say so, but like we already said, you're fulla shit.

[With all the wizards and aliens around, your usual, everyday giant lies like "I'm a superrich genius inventor" are kind of comforting.]

I know tha-- Right. Course you had fancy cars.

[10] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "Because You're Crackheads, Children."

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