One Fine Dave...

"Gimme the keys!"


"If you don't give me them you'll never see her again."

"Oh, I understand," I replied clinically. If this crazy scheme was going to work he'd have to believe me.

"We'll get in eventually. She'll be gone for nothing."

This new lackey wasn't as threatening as the others. Old Jerry must have been getting sick of me shooting his more aggresive minions out of fear. I mean, those guys were huge! One had a frickin' flail with him. A flail!

"Just go back to Jerome and tell him he's never opening the box. He can try all he wants. Send all the flunkies he wants. Threaten everything I hold dear." I paused momentarily, drama and all that. "He can do all that but he won't open the box."

The lackey never told me his name. In my head I just called him Mr David. This Mr David may have been less burly than his associates but he was tough – like a mosquito. But unlike a mosquito he couldn't fly. We hit the ground. It hurt. What was worse was all the little bits of Mr David that hit me. He was a loyal guy. He could have helped our side. Unfortunately he was a complete idiot. Not only for joining their side but for jumping off a high-altitude hot air balloon after me to get the keys.

I stood up and brushed myself off. "Ugh, what a mess." I hailed a cab and headed for the aquarium, Big Jerry's hideout. Today was not a good one for the men, women and dogs of Manhattan's street cleaning brigade. A trademark yellow taxi pulled over. The driver was a young man. Dark hair. Tanned skin. Blonde eyes. He wore a shirt that looked almost like a tshirt. This was one of Jerry's tricks. I was completely aware of this as I entered the cab, confused by the driver's garment.

"Where to?" the man asked.

"Downtown. Aquarium," I replied monotonely, almost paralysed by the shirt. The driver noticed.

"Downtown indeed, Donny C."

The driver's laughter went right down through my spine. It was making its way for the crotch, where it would make its final attack, leaving me completely incapacitated. Within my bloodstream there stood a chance however. There was only one thing that could stop the laughter and I had it: The HIV virus. A mightly battle took place within my body as the cabbie brought me to Jerry's place.

As we approached the enterence to the underground aquatic wonderland my HIV prevailed and for one short moment I regained control of my body. I had enough time to do one thing and one thing only. This would be the most difficult choice of my life. I decided. This was it. I took my right arm and began to raise it. As it moved ever higher I prayed for sweet relief. The index finger reached my face and I scratched my nose. It was definitely worth it. The cabbie, who we'll just call Bad Bill, noticed my glorius nose scratching. He turned around to me.

"Hey! Jerry said you can't move due to this fabulous clothing I'm currently exhibiting." Bad Bill's lengthly comment ended when he lost control of the car and hit a fire hydrant. We both flew out of the cab's windscreen and atop a nearby bus. During his flight Bad Bill lost his shirt, revealing a spectacular chest but also loosing his control over me. We both quickly rose after we hit the bus. This was a tricky situation that had to be dealt with carefully. Bad Bill pulled out his gun. Wonderful.

"You're coming with me to Jerry, so let's just do this the easy way."

Bad Bill aimed his barrel at my leg. Just before he could pull the trigger the bus made a sharp turn. He shot through the roof of the bus and killed the driver. Poor Ed. As Bad Bill tried to regain his balance after the misfire I tackled him. The bus was driving out of control and the passengers were screaming. I wrestled with Bad Bill for his gun. The bus was heading straight for Jerry's aquarium. I was brining him a little message. The bus crashed through the front of the aquarium, into one of the tanks. As the fish poured out and we wrestled, Jerry and his associates looked on as their hideout was trashed.

The bus came to a stop, most of the passenger's passed out. Myself and Bad Bill rolled off the top of the bus in front of Jerry. I picked up Bad Bill and snapped his neck.

"Sorry I'm late," I said to Jerry, "traffic was murder."

"Ah, Don. Just the man I wanted to see."

"You're not opening that box, Jerry."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Jerry always sounded like Gilbert Godfrey. I wanted to hurt him so badly. Such a pity I couldn't.

"You should hire smarter goons." I told him. "This one thought he could shoot me in the leg." As I spoke I looked around the room. The other fishtanks were intact but the fish looked pretty damn scared.

"All my goons can't be as smart as you are, Mr. Conorsting."

I continued looking and saw the box. It looked like Jerry had his goons working it twenty-four-seven for the last month, to no avail.

"I'm here to kill you, Jerry."

"What? You can't kill me, you'll become vulnerable! My goons will just kill you!"

And here comes the bluff.

"Well," I said, "that's why I was thinking of just using this hydrogen bomb." I pulled the complex bomb from my jacket pocket. Ten megatons.

"You're insane!" shouted Jerry. "You're going to kill everyone in Manhattan with that."

"You included Jerry. What's it going to be?"

Jerry looked around the room. He looked at the bomb. He gazed lovingly at his prized fish.

"You bastard, Don," Jerry said. He picked up his gun and shot himself in the head. I swallowed the bomb so it wouldn't destroy the city. I pulled out my flamethrower and killed Jerry's goons. The city was free of Jerry. The box remained sealed and I got to see my speedboat again, safe and sound.