08-14-2005 21:35:17
Medika: Hi all.
Mr. Cuisinart bows gracefully to the young doctor.
Medika: Thank you, Cuis.
Medika: It is good to see you again, Light Bearer. You comported yourself well against Hami today.
Rush 2.0: Hi, Med.
Medika: Hi, Rush.
Medika gives Rush a gentle hug. Rush 2.0 hugs Medika.
Rush 2.0: Eric, Med.
Medika: Of course, Eric.
Medika: Hi to you, too, Viva la Kai. I don't believe we have met previously, have we?
Viva la Kai: No, I don't think so. Nice to meet you.
Medika: As long as we have a little time, I was wondering, Cuis...
Mr. Cuisinart: Wondering what, Medika?
Medika:...I've never heard anything about how you got your powers.
Mr. Cuisinart: Heh. That’s a bit of a story and not one I'm completely proud of..
Medika: Would you mind telling me, Cuis? If it's not too rude of me to ask.
Mr. Cuisinart: Nah, it’s okay.
08-14-2005 21:43:20 Medika listens attentively.
Mr. Cuisinart: Two years ago, my girlfriend and some of my buddies were out hitting the brews while I was working. And they run into this utter cu... <notices Medika's age and apparent innocent> this rather rude fellow. He made a number of comments toward my girlfriend and, them being good friends, they ask him to step outside and take his pick.
So they go outside and the guy steps out and asks ‘em to take their best shot; really gets in their face about it!
Then the guy – hmm, how shall I say this? -- calls them some rather uncharitable things and say some truly unpardonable things about what he's gonna do to my girlfriend when he finishes with them. So Eddy gets mad and starts kicking the crap out of the guy
who just takes it and laughs the whole time, saying how it was such a poor try. So things start to get out of hand.
Medika looks worried and sympathetic.
Mr. Cuisinart: Mitch pulls out a knife and cuts the guy and, when he doesn't go down and doesn't seem to care, really hits him a couple times with the knife.
Medika: <blanching> Oh, dear, no!
Mr. Cuisinart: And the guy keeps laughing. So at this point, they are sure something is wrong, and he's still talking shit about what he's gonna do: how he's gonna go after their families if they keep up the poor showing. So they figure something is really wrong as this guy is covered in blood and doesn't seem to care. So Eddy gets a shotgun from his truck and empties it into the guy and he goes down.
Medika looks horrified.
Mr. Cuisinart: At this point, shit has become truly fucked
Mr. Cuisinart: So when I get there, Eddy and Mitch are covered in blood, and this guy's body is in the back of the truck. So I do what any good friend would do: I help ‘em get rid of the body. So we get in Eddy's truck and head out to the quarry. But when we get there -- no body!
So we freak out and spend the next week wondering what’s gonna happen. Everyone is freaked -- even my girlfriend, Angela, as she had gone outside the bar to see what the noise was about and saw a lot of what had happened. <pause> So a year passes. I get a good gig doing lights and sound at the nearby coliseum, and Angela and I get engaged. Things are going well.
Medika: A year? And no one -- suspected?
Mr. Cuisinart: Well, the folks at the bar thought he was a right bas....not a good person. So people suspected and there were some odd looks, but nothing formal. There was a feeling of ‘good riddance.’
Medika: <small voice< I ... see.
Mr. Cuisinart: Eddy and Mitch even got free drinks on occasion. It was that kinda bar, ya know.
Medika tried not to shiver.
Mr. Cuisinart: So, like I was saying, a year later, Eddy comes in looking pale. This guy had shown up again and said it was his turn to get his licks in and he'd be here at midnight to do it.
Medika: So... what happened?
Mr. Cuisinart: Eddy went home early and didn't show up for work the next day. I went round by his place, and there were police lines…. That night, Mitch came in and said he got a letter in his mail box with no stamp saying that tonight was his turn.
Medika: Oh, no.
Mr. Cuisinart: Uh huh.
Medika seems to shrink in upon herself, still riveted to the swordsman’s words.
Mr. Cuisinart: He came for Mitch at the door. He walked right in with a great big sword and wearing green metal armor like some medieval knight.
Medika: <whispers> This is so "Gawain and the Green Knight", somehow.
Mr. Cuisinart: Walked right up and decapitated Mitch right there. Me and Angela were covered in his freaking blood! Then, before he leaves, he turns and looks at Angela and says, ‘you're tomorrow.’
Medika gasps.
Mr. Cuisinart: Evidently she had involved herself as witness somehow, or he was just a fuc... No! He was a fucking bastard! <voice quiet and a little choked> The next night, we were 350 miles away in a national park, hiding out.
Medika reaches out and pats his hand.
Mr. Cuisinart: When he showed up, I had a gun.
Reflexively, Medika’s hand tightens on Cuisinart’s.
Mr. Cuisinart: It didn't help. He just knocked me aside with the blunt of his sword and .... and … <long pause> and he killed her right there.
Medika: <whispers> I am sooo sorry, Cuis.
Mr. Cuisinart: So as he's leaving covered in her blood...
Light Bearer: We just gonna stand here lookin’ good?
DEVIL Angel 2: Shhhh. Queez is telling a story.
Rush 2.0: Hang on. We're listening to Queez's story before continuing.
Medika: Sorry, friends, but I really want to know.
Light Bearer: OK. Sorry for interrupting.
DEVIL Angel 2: No problem.
Mr. Cuisinart: It was a spot where I'd taking a picture of her earlier, a fucking Kodak- sponsored turn off. So I spend sometime trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I'm totally lost.
Medika: I can imagine!
Mr. Cuisinart: Shit has gone way beyond me at this point. So I start looking around and notice that the road goes almost right up to the rock, and I get an idea ‘cause he's been a punk about things and always been there at midnight.
So at 11:59, I'm in my Firebird going up the road to the turn off. I'm listening to the engine howl and hoping I've got my timing right.
Medika realizes she's been holding her breath.
Mr. Cuisinart: I come around the corner and line things up and can see him standing there shining in the midnight, gleaming green in front of the rocks. I floor it and try to hold the car straight as it starts to slide on the gravel. The look on his god-damned face was priceless!
I blacked out for a moment in the accident. The shock of hitting the rocks had knocked me out for a few moments and destroyed the Firebird. I really liked that car better than Eddy, to tell the truth.
Medika eyebrows go up.
Medika: And the -- knight?
Mr. Cuisinart: When I came to, I was looking at that fucker through a broken windshield. He was driven partway into the rock and held there by the folded wreckage of my car.
<short pause> And mad as hell too! He was talking about how he was immortal and was going to eat my sweetbreads, whatever the fuck those are.
Medika: <absently, enthralled by the story> Stomach lining.
Mr. Cuisinart: So I got out staggered to my trunk and emptied a gallon of gas on him. He was saying a bunch of shit in some foreign language, too, though he just mostly started screaming after I threw my lighter on him. I stood there and watched him burn and he still would not die. He was still swinging that damned sword in my direction, though his heart didn't seem to be in it with being on fire and all. So at this point I got out the tire iron from the trunk and limped back over there and beat on his hand till he dropped the sword. When I picked that sword up, he started looking scared for the first time. I'd seen him surprised; I'd seen him angry; but this was the first time I saw fear.
Medika: What sort of being could he have been?
Mr. Cuisinart: So I wound up, and took my best fucking shot, and chopped his damn head off! Then I threw the sword off the cliff, and staggered off to find some medical attention.
Medika: <shakily> Wow!
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah. Well, the next day, I checked my self out of the hospital with bruises and superficial scrapes, which was odd, but I wasn't sure, ‘cause it had been a long couple of days.
Medika: You thought you'd been hurt worse than that?
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah. I was sure I had broken ribs, and my leg did not feel right after the accident.
Mr. Cuisinart: The problem was -- when I got home, the sword was sitting on my couch like I had left it there.
Medika: And -- that's the sword you use now?
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah, it’s the same one. It’s covered with engravings in French, too.
They are hard to read though. Ya need to look real close.
Medika: Parle vous francais?
Mr. Cuisinart: Nope. But I can't be rid of it … and I don't die. At least, not that I can tell: I tried the first week and it didn't work.
Rush 2.0: Queez?
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah, Rush?
Rush 2.0: Champions International has a number of mages that're pretty powerful. If you ever wanna be rid of the curse, we can have 'em look into it.
Mr. Cuisinart: I just may, to tell the truth; at least before I become a total bastard!
Rush 2.0 chuckles.
Mr. Cuisinart: And, yeah, I know that in the stories it’s usually an axe.
Medika: <still clearly distressed but trying to be comforting> You use it for good, Cuis!
Rush 2.0: Get used to it. The life of a hero ain't always easy.
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah. That’s my hope.
Mr. Cuisinart: So, yeah, there's my story.
Medika: Thank you, Cuis. I'm really sorry.
Mr. Cuisinart: Not your fault, Medika, but I appreciate it. I never really told it all to anyone, and it kinda helps to get it all out.
Medika hugs Mr. Cuisinart gently.
Medika: <softly> What are friends for?
Mr. Cuisinart: Yeah, thanks.
08-14-2005 22:36:45
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