[MISC] GODLING # 22: Round ‘em up!

jvdsteen jvdsteen1974 at gmail.com
Wed May 11 10:18:46 PDT 2011

[MISC] GODLING # 22:  Round ‘em up!
by J. Vandersteen


The supervillain called Nuclear Warrior, clad in a red and yellow
costume with a radiation symbol on it, flies through the sky,
manoeuvring between the tall skyscrapers of New Troy. Godling is
following him, using Perseus’ power of flight.
I’m not going to let him get away, Godling thinks. There’s too many of
Master Destiny’s thugs that escaped (last issue, ed.) for me to let
any one of them get away when I see one.
Suddenly, Nuclear Warrior turns around and blasts Godling who just in
time manages to channel the invulnerability of Achilles. The power of
the blast smacks him right through a building.
He ends up on a desk of a very full office. There’s a lot of panic
among the office workers. Nuclear Warrior flies into the office
through the hole the hero left. Godling gets up, just in time to avoid
one of the supervillain’s blasts.
Using the power of sun god Apollo he blinds the villain with a bright
blast of light. He follows that up with a roundhouse right, using the
strength of Heracles. Nuclear Warrior is knocked out.
“All right people, everything is in control. No need to worry. I’ll
come by later to repair the damage,” Godling said to the office
workers. There was a moment of pause and doubt, but finally he was
rewarded with applause. The people of New Troy had all been witness of
how Godling freed the city from Master Destiny.
Godling picks up the villain and flies off.

DA Linda Cooper is giving her opening statement to the judge when all
hell breaks loose.. On trial is the supervillain called Mr. Gator,
half human, half alligator. The villain suddenly rises from his chair
and attacks her. Luckily, there’s extra security there and they all
jump on the villain, prying her off the DA. He knocks them off his
body however and runs for the exit. Guns are fired at him, but his
scaly hide is not penetrated by the bullets and he walks out of the
Court Building.
Just as he leaves, Wade Hudson gets out of his car and spots him.
Without hesitation he gets back in his car and drives into Mr. Gator.
Wide eyed the villain sees the car coming but he’s too late to avoid
it and ends up on it’s hood, uncounscious.
Hudson gets out, 9mm handgun aimed at the villain.
Linda Coopers exclaims, “My God! Haven’t you ever heard of excessive
Hudson says, “That only works for normal perps. These superpowered
crazies need excessive force. In fact, did you ever wonder how we’re
going to keep these thugs from breaking out of the Court Room?”
“Maybe we should ask Godling for help?” Cooper offers.
Hudson crosses his arms defiantly. “Are we going to keep turning to
that showboat for help? Isn’t it time we started to fend for
ourselves? What if something happens to him? We need to be able to
fight back against these crazies. Without Godling.”

Godling lands at Tartarus II, the prison he made with the power of the
Spear of Destiny, Nuclear Warrior in his arms. The gates open and he
is greeted by one of the robotic guards, one of the New
“New delivery,” Godling tells it.
“I will take care of it,” say the robot and takes Nuclear Warrior out
of the hero’s arms with its tentacles.
“I will pick him up when he’s ready to go to trial.”
The robot carried the villain further inside. Tartarus II was filled
with cells that were able to deal with the many superpowered thugs
captured when Master Destiny was arrested. There were bars made from
mythical steel, and some cells were filled with water, others with
fire. There was no escape possible.
Godling felt a little bad about what he had used his powers for.
Imprisoning people seemed wrong to him, even if it were all criminals.
It was the only way to keep New Troy safe from them however.
Godling flew off.
Master Destiny was sitting in a normal prison cell, in New Troy’s
regular prison. After all, without the Spear of Destiny he was just a
regular human being.
There was a doctor with him. Master Destiny looks about about ninety
years old.
There’s also a guard with the doctor, saying, “I don’t get it. When he
came in hear he looked to be about forty years old.”
“I can’t help you. I’ve never seen anything like this,” the doctor
Destiny says, softly, “The Spear kept me from aging, without it I’m
slowly aging again. I will die in this cell. I swear however, death
will not be the end of me!”
His eyes closed.
“He’s dead,” the doctor says.
“What was that stuff about death being not the end?” the guard says.
“It creeped me out.”
“Ramblings of a dying man,” the doctor says.
They don’t notice the strange shadow on the wall. The shadow that
seems to be the shape of a devil. It’s there just briefly and gone in
Godling lands at the Coffee Pit, one of New Troy’s coffee bars. As
soon as he’s landed he changes into professor Quentin Alexander and
walks in.
Officer Janson is already waiting for him at a table. She is out of
uniform, her hair loose, wearing a tank top and a skirt. She looks
“Hi,” Quentin says. “Finally, the cup of coffee we planned on having.”
“Yeah, my sick leave gives me the free time to catch up on my social
life,” Janson says.
Quentin sits down. “How are you doing?”
“Well, okay I guess. The department issued Darlene and me some pretty
good shrinks. Although Darlene seems to have little need for one.
She’s already back on duty, taking out her anger on the bad guys.”
“It must have been terrible for you, to be so helpless against Master
“It could’ve been a whole lot worse if it wasn’t for Godling. But
enough about that. Let’s leave it at the fact I’m feeling better by
the day and hopefully will be back on the job soon. I want to get to
know you a little bit better.”
“Same here,” Quentin says with a smile. “I’m afraid I’m not as
interesting a person as, say, Godling.”
“I doubt that. Tell me, did you always want to become a teacher?”
“Not exactly. I’ve always been interested in mythology however. Not
much to do with an interest like that but become a teacher. What about
you? Did you always want to be a cop?”
“Ever since my sister got killed.”
“Your sister got killed? That’s awful!”
“I was just a kid, ten years old. She was just an innocent bystander,
killed in a drive-by shooting. Since then I guess I felt the desire to
protect people. I didn’t want other kids to go through what I went
“Doesn’t sound like an easy childhood,” Quentin says.
“Yours was eve worse. I don’t feel at ease with you feeling sorry for
my past.” She was probably talking about the death of Quentin’s own
parents and the fact his brother was in jail.
Quentin sighs. “Let’s just say we both have some baggage to carry
along. But let’s talk about nicer things, get to know each other a bit
better on another level. Like, what sort of music do you like?”
“I love folk punk. Street Dogs, Dropkick Murphy’s, Flogging Molly,”
Janson says.
Quentin gives her a blank look. “I have absolutely never heard of
them. I’m more of a Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash lover myself.” That was
probably the age difference talking there, Quentin thought.
“I love Cash! Especially the American Recordings. In fact, there’s
this Cash-tribute band playing tomorrow night, right here in New Troy.
Would you like to go there with me?”
Quentin smiles a big smile. “I’d love to.”
“Great!” Janson exclaims and gives Quentin a quick peck on the cheek.
“Hi,” someone says at that moment. It’s Monica Sawyer, she’s just
walked in.
“Monica!” Quentin says and thinks, I almost feel like she caught me
cheating on her or something, how stupid is that?
“Hello miss Sawyer,” Janson says.
“I just felt an urgent need for some frappacino,” Monica says. “I
didn’t know you two were seeing each other.”
“Well, it’s not that exactly… I mean, I --,” Quentin stammers.
“He means today is the first day we’ve been seeing each other without
me handcuffing him,” Janson says.
“Kinky,” Monica says.
Quentin and Janson both get very red.
Here I am with this lovely young woman and Monica walks in and
suddenly I can’t think about how good Monica smells, how great her
smile is, Quentin thinks.

At the other side of the city, in an abandoned building six men in
dark robes stand in a circle. Above their heads they hold gold swords
as they chant. “Ikway-chai-da-way. Ikway-chai-da-way. Ikway-chai-da.”
>From a dark hole in the middle of the circle a giant scorpion tail
slowly appears.
“Welcome, Scorpion God,” one of the men in robes says. “We welcome you
to our dimension which we offer for you to take. Soon, Earth will be


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