For your edification, and because the Author doesn't want to have to explain this all in exposition when he finally gets around to introducing the character, Coherent Comics UnInc now presents an abbreviated history of the lovable character from Chinese legend, the Monkey King. He's been mentioned here and there in this series, but it's about time his background was made available to the readership at large. Besides, it's a good way to kill a few dozen lines. The author may be no Rob Furr, but he knows the advantages of creative padding. Pay attention, there will be a short quiz. The story of the Monkey King can be found in its complete form in "Journey to the West," a vernacular tale from the Ch'ing dynasty. The author is unknown, because no respectable writer would sign his name to Buddhist fanfic, which is what this story amounted to...a spoof on the trip to India to bring the Buddhist Scriptures to China in the 7th Century AD. Anyway, as befits a mythic hero, Monkey had a non-standard birth. To wit, the sun shone down on a rock, impregnated it and Monkey was born from the egg that resulted. Monkey is at tough as stone...and sometimes as dumb as a rock, too. Face it, Monkey is as dumb as an Author. Monkey grew up among normal monkeys and became their king by being the only one stupid enough to dive through a waterfall to see what was on the other side. Fortunately for him, it was a wonderland of plenty, as opposed to a rock wall. You can already see his Authorial tendencies, yes? He ruled his people happily for a while, until one of the older monkeyes died. Monkey decided he didn't care for this "death" concept, and set out to find immortality. Monkey spent several years learning Taoist magic before being kicked out of the monastery. It is worth noting at this point that Taoist mysticism has very little to do with the "go with the flow" passivity and resignation of Taoist philosophy. Taoist wizards like to blow things up, among other fun habits. Still, it wasn't quite enough for Monkey, who was now hard to kill but not immortal. At this point in his life, Monkey picked up the magic sea-fixing pin that Jack now has. He had decided to go bother other spirits and gods for court position and gifts, and managed to get the Dragon King under the sea to give him the pin just to get rid of him. Then Monkey went making trouble in Heaven, ate Lao Zi's immortality elixir and generally got all of the Celestial Bureaucracy on his tail, but he was too clever and powerful for them. So they got Buddha to put the hurt on him, trapping Monkey under five mountains. Later Monkey was freed to help in the search for the scriptures and became a Boddhisattva (mortal who became a Buddha but hung around on Earth afterwards). Thing is, two things were different in 973HONGKONGFILMS where Jack grew up. One: Jack's dad hung out with Monkey and helped keep Monkey out of really bad trouble (but got into trouble himself). Two: Buddha never dropped those five mountains on Monkey. Thanks to Jack's dad, Monkey never quite irritated the gods enough to call in outside help, although they still want his hide. And that of Jack's dad. And, by extension, Jack's. Of course, in 973HONGKONGFILMS, the search for Buddhist Scripture hasn't happened yet, so Monkey still has centuries to get himself crammed under a mountain range. In the meantime, he's bound to look up old pals and their sons.... Coherent Comics UnInc. Presents: ___ __ __ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ _ _ CRAZY GUY #13 / '/ | / | / \/ / ' / / \/ "The Wages Of Sin Plus Overtime" / /--' /--| / / / __ / / / copyright 1996 Dave Van Domelen `___ / | / |/__ _/ `__/ \__/ _/ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Kid, you just made a REALLY bad career move..." Hans Kartoffelkopf said from behind the raised collar of his trenchcoat as the fog started to roll in around him and Jack. They say the fog comes in on little cat's feet, but this was one of those fogs that comes rolling into town on tank treads, where you can go from a clear night to not being able to see your own bloodied hands in front of your pulped face as you stagger away from the scene of yet another pointless alleyway brawl, counting your teeth with your tongue because even if it wasn't too foggy to see them in the mirror your left eye's swollen shut and.... "Ahem," Jack interrupted the narrator. "Sorry, narrators get that way around me," Hans shrugged, his coat jingling slightly with the spare rounds of .38 caliber unpleasantness that rested in his pocket next to the half-empty flask of hootch, neither of which could do much about the fog or anything about the figure whose exit was being covered by it. "So, you saw it all?" Jack asked, hoping the narrator would just shut the heck up. Fine, be that way. Hans just nodded, the kind of somber nod he used when asked to identify the horribly mangled body of an old business partner after the cops had dredged the sewers for five days. "Why didn't you help me?" Jack demanded, picking up his fallen staff and standing shakily. "What was there to help? I'm no fighter, kid, the dame woulda broken me in half and then gone on to work her less-than-feminine wiles on ya. And what, exactly, would you have had me do about Satan T. Freakin' Lucifer Jones?" Hans pulled out the flask and drained it of another few ounces. "Messing with a contract from Hell(TM) is not the kinda trouble I'm looking t' get inta." Jack sighed. "Well, I guess I'm just doomed then, aren't I? At least the pay's decent and I don't have to do anything wrong...I just work for the most totally evil being in existence." "Third most totally evil, from what I hear." "Whatever. I was coming to see you about why you really were following me, but that's sort of a moot point now, yes?" Hans shifted guiltily. "If I'd know what she was gonna do t'ya, I wouldn't have done her legwork...I got SOME principles left." Jack did a doubletake. "You...and HER? I...!" Hans backed off. "Hey, I thought she told you, the whole 'moot point' thing, right?" Jack stepped up in Hans's face. "No, she didn't. I just meant it was moot because whatever your reasons were couldn't be nearly as bad as what just happened to me." "Whoa, whoa...point that stick someplace else! I might be able t' get you outta this fix," Hans protested. "How? I may not know too much about Christianity, but I do know Satan's contracts tend to be pretty damned hard to get out of." Hans stepped back. "Y'know, it still freaks me out how your lips don't move with your words. Anyway, all contracts have loopholes, it's just that Jonesy tends to make sure the loopholes all swing his way. I got a drinking buddy who should be in town about now, working on the city budget. The Mage Municipal...he's a wiz when it comes to budgets and contracts. If it weren't for him, L.A. woulda bankrupted years ago. I'm sure he can figure out your contract. You got a copy?" Jack pointed to the small pile of forms Satan had dumped next to him. "Wait...that pile wasn't that big a moment ago." "Right, kill it before it grows!" Hans shouted, diving for the now visibly-moving pile of paperwork.... * * * * Morning, and the sun was visible through the windows of most of the offices on that street. Hans's window, however, was blocked by several feet's worth of bureaucratic forms. "Jack! Have ya found the door yet?" Hans shouted, his voice muffled by the paperwork clinging to him. "Get down you damned 401-K plan! OW!" "You okay?" "Papercut. Again." "I think I found the..." clatterclangbash "...closet. False alarm. When did your friend say he'd be here?" "I don't know exactly, I left a message with his service. If I could find the phone, I'd check up on him." Rustlerustlerustle. "Hans, can I list you as a reference?" "NO." "Okay. Hmm. Next of kin...that'd be father. Name...unknown. Location...mobile." "Wait, you don't even know your dad's name?" "Hey, I don't even know my own last name, okay?" * * * * "Hans, what's a 27-letter word for opposition to the removal of government control of industries?" "Antidisestablishmentarianism, I think. What form is THAT for?" "I'm not sure..." rustlerustle "...oops. I've been doing the New York Times crossword." * * * * "Must...fill...out...form...." "Give it up, kid! It's hopeless! You'll go insane trying!" "No...I'm not crazy! In fact, it's all starting to make perfect sense now! If I can just find Form fm1295, I'll be able to rule the world! BWAHAHAHAHA!" SLAP! "Ow. Thanks, I needed that, Hans." * * * * "Log of Hans's Office, day 23. Still no sight of land. Food gone. Water short. Almost no ink left, may be forced to start filling out forms in blood. Almost impossible to resist the temptation to strike a match." * * * * "It didn't go through all five copies! Now I have to start again! NOOOOOOOOO...!" Suddenly, there was a sound of the door bursting open, and with a flurry of paper the office was clear. A man in a tweed suit stood at the doorway, clamping closed a small briefcase into which all the paperwork had flowed. "Sorry I'm a little late," the man said. "A LITTLE?" Jack screamed. "It's been..." "It's five past nine the day you called for me," the Mage Municipal said calmly. Jack's face fell, as did Hans's. "But, but..." Jack tried to protest, pointing at the papercuts which covered him and Hans. "The funny thing about paperwork, it can expand to fill the available space and seem to take an eternity to complete. Of course, with Hellish(TM) paperwork, this is literally true." He opened the briefcase to reveal the original half dozen forms Jack had been given and no more. "Now, while my specialty is not Satanic contract law, Hans knows where all the bodies are buried..." "Figuratively," Hans interjected. "...so I've agreed to check over your contract and see if I can find any loopholes, both ones you can use and ones you want to know about before they blow up in your face. Fortunately, I have the morning available, so I should be able to get this done now." The phone rang, and Hans picked it up. "Kartoffelkopf Investigations, you don't ask about the name and I won't ask about your motives, Hans speakin'. Uh-huh. Jack, it's for you. Pick up the phone in the outer office, so Bartleby here can get t'work in peace." Jack nodded and stepped out into the room which would contain a secretary if Hans had kept paying her and picked up the dusty receiver. "Hello?" "Hello, Mr....Jack. I am your immediate supervisor at Hell(TM) Inc's troubleshooting department, Bartholomew Laurence Zachary Bobb. Call me Mr. Bobb." "Ah, hello Mr. Bob." "No, with two b's at the end. Bobb." "Baab." "Bobb." "Baubb." "Close. Bobb." "Bbob." "Oh, never mind, you can practice on the plane." "Plane?" "Yes, we have a job for you already. One of our competitors, a Seattle-based startup infernal domain, has launched an assault on a nearby Jesuit monastery in the Sierra Nevada mountains. The holy aura of the place is keeping them out, but they are effectively keeping out anyone non-holy, and it's only a matter of time before the monks starve. We want this siege broken, or at the very least the holy men and their relics removed to a safer location." "Why send me and not a horde of your own?" Jack asked. "Well, you see, this particular batch of demons is Chinese in extraction. As such, while they are affected by the intrinsic holiness of the place, they aren't nearly as bothered by it as our own people would be. Our competitors are closer to the peak than we could comfortably get, which is where you come in." "Hey, I'm good, but not good enough to take out an entire horde of demons!" B.L.Z. Bobb sighed. "Which is why you have open the option of rescuing the monks and relocating them. So long as our competitors are not allowed to kill the monks, they will not gain the power of the place, and will not be a threat to Hell(TM) Inc. You have broad discretion to follow your...ugh...moral code, so long as the monks stay alive. These demons are perfectly capable of feeding on the souls of the pure, and devouring those of the monks would be a major coup." "O...kay. And you don't have anyone else who could take this job while my paperwork gets processed?" "No one in the area, no. The rope ladder you see out the window is from the helicopter which will take you to the airport. Please board it as soon as possible. Good day." "Terrific." Jack stepped back into the main office, where the propwash was strangely not blowing the forms away. "That's my ride, guys. Got a job to do." The Mage Municipal looked up from the contract. "All right. Just be very careful, you don't know yet what kinds of things you can be forced into doing." "You bet," Jack replied, crawling out the window. * * * * "There's the monastery down below!" the pilot shouted over the noise of the Cessna's engine. "Time to jump out!" "Fine! Where's my parachute?" "Too risky! Leaves you a target too long! Don't worry, I'll put you inside the ring of protection so you'll have time to heal!" "Huh?" shouted Jack just as the plane went into a roll that dumped him out the open door. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" WILL THERE BE ENOUGH OF JACK TO SCRAPE TOGETHER? WHAT'S SATAN'S LOOPHOLE IN THIS WHOLE MONASTERY THING? WILL THERE BE A WAY OUT OF THE CONTRACT SHORT OF DEATH? WILL DEATH EVEN BE A VIABLE WAY OUT? AND WHAT ABOUT THOSE RED SQUIRRELS? (Huh?) OH, SORRY, WRONG PLOT. Some of this and more, presuming the eyrie server works, on the next... SUPERGUY! =========================================================================== Author's Notes: 1) Monkey is still roaming free in 973HONGKONGMOVIES BECAUSE there is no Buddha in that altiverse. a) Assertion and Reason are true statements, and the Reason is a correct explanation of the assertion. b) Assertion and Reason are true statements, but the Reason is not the correct explanation of the assertion. c) Assertion is true, Reason is false. d) Assertion is false, Reason is true. e) Both the Assertion and Reason are false statements. 2) Monkey makes for an interesting character because: 1: He's dumb as toast. 2: He has vast mystical powers. 3: He has all of Heaven after his head. 4: He had an odd birth. Choose: a) 1, 2 and 3 b) 1 and 3 c) 2 and 4 d) 4 only e) 1, 2, 3 and 4 Hey, I said there'd be a short quiz.