[Acra/Misc] An Abecedary of Villainy #2 "B.B. Gunn"

Jamie Rosen jamie.rosen at sunlife.com
Wed Jan 12 13:43:58 PST 2005

The following issue containts explicit language and scenes of violence.
Reader discretion is advised.

PqR          An
sTu           Abecedary
VwX                   of
yZA                    Villainy
bCdEfGhIjKlMnOpQrStUvWxYzaBcDeFgHiJkLmNoPqRsTuVwXyZ vol 1, #2
"B.B. Gunn"

Born at the exact middle of the twentieth century, B.B. Gunn became the
archetypal villain of his generation, growing up too late to buy into
all that peace and love nonsense but just in time to catch on to the
darker, dirtier, druggier side of the counterculture movement -- all
booze, blow, and bank heists.

He was very much a man of his time. And times change.


March 7, 1986:
"Shit. Shit man. Shit." B.B. Gunn ducked behind the upturned oak desk
as bullets chunked into the wood. This wasn't how it was supposed to
go, Goddamnit. He was a *supervillain* -- he wasn't supposed to get
pinned down by a fucking *security guard* old enough to be his grampa.

His heart was pounding, his breath gasping, rubbing his throat raw. The
doorway was blocked -- the cops must be almost on them by now -- what
was he supposed to do? What the HELL was he supposed to do? He hadn't
even gotten the chance to grab a hostage for God's sake!

A pause in the firing told him that gramps was out of bullets. He'd
sure had a lot of them. Maybe now he could at least bluff his way out
of this mess. He stood up and fired a couple of pellets from his
fingertips into the wall near the guard's head, leaving decent-sized
pockmarks where they struck.

"Get down," he shouted. Thank God his voice didn't crack. That would
have shot his bluff for good. Trying to save face, he added, not really
under his breath, "My plan is unfolding perfectly." This way it would
at least seem like he'd really been doing something altogether
different from what had really happened, when gramps told the cops or
the papers what he'd said.

But the old guy was nowhere to be seen. The whole bank was empty, and
the sirens in the distance didn't seem to be drawing any closer.

"They have bigger fish to fry."

Somehow, gramps had got behind him. But he didn't *sound* like he
should have, and he stood up much straighter than he had before the


The end of B.B. Gunn's question was cut off by the shock of a bullet to
the gut, followed by another, execution-style, to the head.

As the body hit the floor, the guard peeled off his wrinkled face. He
then stripped the fallen villain of his gloves and placed them in a
case he had hidden beneath a desk. The world was a cruel, deadly place,
and had no room for costumed fools like this. Only the strong would
survive the war that was to come, and none were stronger than he was.
None were stronger than Bulletrain.


Author's Note: They won't all be downers, honest. But how many villains
do you want to see come to good ends?

I read the latest L-AL yesterday. Good stuff. Saxon may be my favourite
LNHer; certainly he's my favourite regularly-posting LNHer. I may even
wind up with a Re:Views special out of some things his story got me
thinking about. But it may be a bit of a hot button issue if I don't
phrase it right (about what constitutes good RACC writing versus good
writing in the 'outside world', and the differences in writing for RACC
versus writing for some other venue.)

As I said in issue #2, Miss Tran and such will be posted on weekends
and when I have access to both the files and the internet. I hope to
have an issue of this Abecedary posted daily (or thereabouts) in
between until its end.

[c] Copyright 2005 Jamie Rosen, all rights reserved, nothing left to

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