Jump to content

Dead Presidents

Recommended Posts


Another pleasant Thursday afternoon unfolds as usual in the bustling Midtown district of Freedom City. Spring has arrived, accompanied by the expected stormy evenings and sunny days. A pale blue sky is spotted with bulbous clouds. Trees stand proud along the sidewalk, showing off the bright green buds blossoming on their branches. Rain-slicked streets are crowded with people and cars racing to their destinations. Birds chirp in chorus, a soundtrack for a city moving along at a steady, uninterrupted pace.

Just outside a small branch of the Eastern Seaboard Bank on 34th Avenue, a sign-washer standing on a stepladder removes a rag from his overalls and polishes the sign hanging over the glass doors. Inside, clacking keyboards and subdued murmurs fill the bank. A handful of patrons wait in line at the tellers, and all of the offices are occupied with clients. A single woman wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a flowery blouse sits at the reception desk in the lobby, talking on the phone to a customer.

A low rumble emerges from outside, gradually getting louder as it approaches the bank. The patrons and staff ignore the noise. The rumble is suddenly accompanied by a frightening whooshing sound, like violent winds whipping to a frenzy. A few patrons turn their attention to the sound. Windows rattle, and pedestrians outside scream as cars blare their horns. The sound grows into a monstrous cacophony that pierces everyone’s ears. Suddenly, both the front and lobby doors swing open on their own accord, wrenching free from their hinges and shattering glass. The sign-washer is thrown off his ladder and falls to the ground.

Before anyone blinks, a green-coloured tornado glides through the vestibule and stops in the lobby. Winds dreadfully roar and swallow telephones, potted plants and pens. Withdrawal and deposit slips fling upwards and scatter across the floor. Patrons wince and tightly grip the stanchion ropes, their hair flapping in the sudden storm. The miniature tornado slows down and a human figure emerges in the center of the vortex. A tall man in a costume decorated with green spirals is also spinning, and finally he stops completely and stands before the terrified bank patrons. He spreads his arms and a large smile creeps along his face.

"Hello, you lucky people! You want to know why you're so lucky today? Because, today, you are getting robbed by the one and only Twister!"

The crowd gawks at him with blank faces.

"You know! Twister! The Twister! Don't you people watch the news? Haven't you heard of my daring daytime robb - oh, wait. This is my first robbery! How embarrassing!"

Twister laughs hysterically and leans against the lobby desk, oblivious to the perplexed patrons. The receptionist looks up at him.

"W-welcome to Seaboard B-bank. C-c-can I help you?"

Twister wipes the tears from his eyes and peers down at the shaking receptionist. He picks up a pen and taps it against his palm.

"Y-y-y-you certainly can," he replies mockingly. "You can give me your phone number," he adds with a wink.

The receptionist cringes. The patrons look to each other.

"No, really, I have work to do. Maybe later. Later! Listen to me! As if I have all this time on my hands.†He peels himself off the desk. "Anyway, could you be so kind as to remove all your hard-earned valuables and place them on the floor," he announces to everyone.

A fresh-faced guard in the distinctive Stronghold Security uniform steps forward and draws a service revolver at the villain.

"Stop right there!" he yells, a slight waver in his voice.

"Oo! A security guard! Look what I can do!"

Twister raises his hand and splays his fingers. A rumbling noise surrounds the Green Gust of Glam, and the guard is flung backwards by an invisible force, straight into a wall. He collapses to the floor and doesn’t move.

Twister turns to the patrons. His voice lowers and becomes razor-sharp.

"And if anyone feels the urge to be a hero, I suggest looking at our little friend with the pistol as an example as to why that's a bad idea."

He shakes his head and loudly clears his throat.

"My! That was a long-winded threat! I really have to learn to shorten those. Anyway! Give me your money! Now!"

Link to comment

Rusty races along the streets, enjoying a quiet day in Freedom City. His feet wick up a small line of water behind him as he flashes over the wet roads. For fun he had been drifting across lanes and iceskating across the water and oil on the roads surface.

The birds were chirping, probably, though it was hard to tell over the steady noise of Midtown. The sun was in the sky and all was right in the world. As he shotots past a gorgeous brunette in a sun dress Rusty smiles to himself.

Down the block he notices a gush of air blowing the buds from the nearby tree and a whirlwind of street debris blasting feet into the air and slowly drifting back down.

“Might as well check it out. Nothing else going on until dinner time.â€Â

In a few seconds he in near the source of the wind and looks up to see the E-Sea bank logo. “Whirlwind at a bank? Maybe they’re giving away iPods with new checking accounts.â€Â

Rusty moves into the bank cautiously and on the lookout for trouble... or iPods.

Link to comment


"C'mon people!" yells Twister, clapping his hands loudly. "Let's get moving! Throw all your lovely little trinkets on the floor there." He points at one of the tellers, a middle-aged woman in a white blouse. She hides her hands under the counter and lowers her eyes.

"You, my dear, will empty the vault as quick as your dainty hands are capable. And you," he orders, looking at a young man in a gray suit, "will help your co-worker. Nothing like an old-fashioned robbery to encourage teamwork in the workplace! HAHAHAHAHA!"

His face quickly shifts from being jovial to vicious; his smile turns into a deeply etched frown and his eyes glare with malice.

"Now get moving!" he roars. "I feel a storm brewing."

Unfortunately, Twister is unaware that the miniature hero Rusty Nail has crept inside the bank.

Link to comment

Rusty quickly appraises the situation with his keen eye for details.

Some idgit is robbing a bank. Probably caused the whirlwind and there are no free mp3 players or toasters or calendars. I am going to knock his block off. Hope nothing splatters on that pretty teller.

Rusty races into action, delivering a powerful hammerlike punch to the thief's ankle before racing around the corner of the wall by the vault.

Link to comment


Twister is about to break into more manical laughter when he suddenly feels as though a 250 pound man has swung a mallet against his ankle. He screws his face as his entire body seems to collapse from the intense pain. The force of the blow sends him flying up and over; he careens across the bank past the tellers and smashes through the wall, leaving behind a human-sized hole. Luckily, Twister is too limber to receive further injury. He rockets across the narrow hall to the other side, where he slams into the adjacent wall, which lightly buckles under the strain but it doesn't completely break. His shoulders crash into the wall, and he bonelessly slumps to the floor. Brilliant white stars float before his eyes.

"What . . . what was that?" he mumbles.

Link to comment

The smashing and crashing sounds of ricocheting bad guy fill the air.

That was a good solid punch but not that good. I've never made anyone bounce. Best finish this off before I've got a fight on my hands, though I hate to hit a guy when he's ... nah.

Rusty zips back towards the resilient criminal with the intent of mayhem. Silence and stealth had been his friends so far but he couldn't stay in the shadows and fight crime at the same time. At least not today. He grabs a hold of the man in the costume and delivers a head butt from his ball-peen hard skull.

Link to comment


Seated on the floor with his back against the wall, Twister shakes his head to brush the stars from out of his eyes. After being punched through a wooden partition he find himself sore but not unconscious; he must have soaked up most of the impact. His ankle still throbs, but for now he can see straight. That is, he can watch with crystal clear vision as a tiny figure arches backwards then slams himself directly into Twister's forehead. He feels a sharp pain envelope the top of his head and he clasps his hands over the point of impact and rolls on the floor.

"Ooooh! Ow! Ow! Ow! That huuuurts!" he bellows; he slowly sits up on his knees, then falls down again.

The blow should have knocked him out cold. Perhaps it's pure luck, perhaps the hero struck a particularly hard part of Twister's sinister skull, but somehow the villain remains conscious. The stinging ebbs away and Twister props himself on one leg, then with a groan he stands on his feet. He still sways a little from the effort.

He looks around and sees nothing expect terrified bank patrons on the other side of the wall. Then he remembers that someone rather short head-butted him. He lowers his gaze and sees the five-inch superhero standing before him. The veins in his temple bulge and face turns beet red.

"I'm not going to let some pint-sized pugilist ruin my plans!" he screams. "You got a hankering for throwing hard-working crooks around? Let me return the favour!"

Twister twirls on his feet and he transforms back into a howling green tornado. Debris from the smashed wall flies into the air and crashes onto the floor. A gust of wind encircles the hero and and pushes to lift him upwards.

Link to comment

The whirling rush of air circles Rusty but is unable to move the small hero.

"Are you trying to fight or blow up my skirt?"

Rusty leaps upwards at the villain with a grin. He flies through the whirlwind gale and lands a punch on the blurred form, not at all sure where but he felt his fist connect.

Link to comment


Twister widens his eyes when he notices that the hero is still standing while he's being blasted by powerful winds.

"That's impossible! No one can withstand my incredible onslaught! No one!"

Before he can decide on his next move, the miniscule marvel bounds into the air and lands a whalloping cross against Twister's chin, the hero's fists cutting through the whirling winds as though they're a gentle breeze on a spring day. Twister stops spinning but his head seems to nearly turn right around on his neck. Blood spurts out of mouth and he plummets against the wall once again. It continues to hold, though now a wide dent is spread across its surface. Twister collapses to the floor before he fully smashes through the wall.

He sees the entire bank fading into a blue-black haze.

Link to comment

"I think you're just having an off day really. You know, you wake up and your hair wont comb right and you miss your train. You try to rob a little bank and some hero happens to be wandering by," offers Rusty to the bloodied criminal.

"It's not that you aren't a dangerous person." He grabs a hold of the spinning villain at the waist and heaves him over his shoulder, saying, "There's just up's," With a grunt of effort he launches the baddie towards the open vault door, "and there's down's."

Rusty calls out, "Can somebody get STAR over here? This guy has had a bad enough day without getting dragged by his ankles across town."

Link to comment


Twister grimaces as his opponent lifts him and throws him through the hole. He flies over the bank patrons and hits the floor like a half-empty sack of potatoes. He groans; his limbs feel as though they've been twisted right around like his namesake. Boiling rage fills his veins, directed towards the Boy Scout interfering with his plans. He shakes his head and wipes the blood off his chin. His vision returns and he fills his lungs with air. Twister awkwardly stands and points at the hero behind the tellers' desks.

"I don't believe in bad days," he bellows, "just missed opportunities!"

Twister resumes spinning and once again a green tornado roars inside the bank, blasting everything small and light enough across the bank. Potted plants knock over and the windows rattle.

"Let's keep the cops out of this; we can settle this ourselves!"

Link to comment

Rusty rolls his eyes.. which goes completely unnoticed due to his minuscule size. He cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms out while he replies,"Sorry, I thought you were down for the count. Didn't know you still wanted to play. If you've still got some energy left you should have considered cutting out of here and maybe trying someplace else. I hear Montana is short on supers. Well too late. You're yelling is really getting on my nerves Whirligig. Catch!"

With a burst of speed Rusty dashes across the bank floor in a tiny blur through the fierce winds and plants another one on the would be bank robber.

Link to comment


The little legend's fist tears through the tornado surrounding Twister again, only this time he barely connects with the villain. He would feel as though he just drove his hand inside a raging whirlpool; the force knocks his fist aside and the pocket-sized paladin only manages to give Twister a vigourous slap across his face.

"Is that the best you can do, shorty?" he says with a laugh.

Twister slows his spinning and the wind whipping inside the bank dies down to a gentle murmur. The rings on his costume meld and expand like they are made of liquid, then intense waves radiate from the crook and pound into the hero's skull.

"Now you'll see why commoners fear the incredible man-force that is Twister! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Link to comment

Rusty had gotten over confident and wiffed his last punch. It seemed this Twister was a little tougher than he had first thought.

Now his outfit was starting to... wiggle? Twirl? It twisted in some way that seemed to penetrate Rusty's mind.

"Guh!?!" Rusty grabs his head and staggers back from Twister. The strange waves coming off of the Twister's outfit strike home on Rusty. His mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of confusing alternatives.*

"What? What's happening to me? What did you do?" Rusty staggers for a moment, leaning against the wall of the vault.

The world spun for the little hero and made him confused, which scared him which made him ANGRY!

Rusty Smash!

He leaps at the Twister with a savage flame in his tiny green eyes!

Link to comment


Although Twister's eyes are barely noticeable behind his protective whirlwind, anyone could see that they've expanded three times their natural size as he watches the hero rampage towards him with murderous rage gleaming in his eyes.

"What? Not me, you fool!" he yells shakily.

The hero's strike doesn't quite break through howling winds and his fist glances off Twister's forehead, leaving a tiny, fist-shaped bruise. Twister, seeing what just occurred, finds himself brimming with new confidence.

"You're not looking well! Why don't you have a seat! HAHA!"

While he's still spinning, a gust of wind picks up an office chair behind the reception desk and hurls it directly at the hero! Luckily, the chair skims just millimeters above Rusty Nail's head. The chair spins then smashes into the wall behind the tellers' desks, breaking in half and bouncing to the ground. Twister can see the entire bank while he's twirling around, and he notices that the staff and the patrons have vacated the premises. He scowls, realizing he'll miss out on the credit cards and jewellery he could have stolen. He returns his attention, and his rage, back to the interloper.

"How's your head, hero? HAHAHAHAHA!"

Link to comment

The swirling aching pounding in his brain drives Rusty to distraction and he loses his focus on violence. The fight or flight instincts switch gears.

"Get it out of my head!!!" Rusty clutches his skull and runs screaming from the bank at top speed. He is a tiny blur gone in a heartbeat, sailing down the street

The bank... for the moment... is all Twisters.

Link to comment


Twister gradually stops spinning and stands triumphly in the middle of the bank. He places his hands on his hips and throws back his head, then he erupts into booming, maniacal laughter that reverberates throughout the bank and out into the street.

"HAHAHA! What's wrong, little man?" he calls out after the fleeing hero. "Did I scare you? HAHAHAHA!"

Suddenly, all the pain from the beating he took rushes back like a tidal wave. He groans and doubles over, supporting himself by clenching his knees with his trembling hands. His shoulders ache, and his jaw, right cheek, and forehead are incredibly sore. His vicious visage melts away and his features soften so much his frown threatens to drip off his face.

"Whooooah, that hurts," he mutters to himself. "No one said I'd be getting slapped around so much in this line of work. Who was that little guy anyway?" He stands up and shrugs his shoulders. "Oh, well. I can't spend all my time worrying. Duty calls."

He limps over to the bank vault and examines it up and down. He twists his mouth and scratches his head.

"No way I'm getting through that. I'll have to make my own entrance!"

Twister rotates his shoulders and spins even faster than he did earlier. The floor cracks and buckles and his twirling form sinks deeper and deeper into the ground until he disappears. The tunnel left behind collapses into itself as Twister burrows through the concrete and soil. He veers off at an angle then directs himself upwards, popping out of the vault's shattered floor. He brushes himself off and gazes admirably at the shelves lining the walls, each one filled with money. He wipes a trickle of drool from the corner of his mouth.

Link to comment

Several blocks away Rusty screeches to a halt.

The city noise surrounds him. Car horns, engines, nearby laughter from a bistro. The mental cacophony had vanished. His mind was free of the signal overload and he could think clearly. He could clearly think just how mad he was at having his head messed with.

"I'm going to kick him in the head with his own foot! I'm going to tear off his..."

The rest is lost in a blur of speed in the return to the bank.

Link to comment

Rusty returns to the bank to find it empty. A strange chewed up section of stone floor waits for him in front of the vault. The image of the spinning villain pops into his head as he makes the connection. "He can dig through the floors?"

"I guess I'm glad my idea to lock him in the vault didn't work."

Rusty looks at the heavy metal door of the vault and shakes his head. He thinks quickly through the problem, It would take too long to pull that thing off it's hinges. No ventilation into these things so no air vents to run through. The wiring conduit might be big enough to work if I knew where it was. No, I'd better just stick with the simple approach.

He gives his knuckles a quick kiss and aims for the sweet spot on the thick stone wall. He rushes forward and lands a punch that sends pieces of the wall flying and shakes the entire wall.

Link to comment


Twister snaps back to the present. He shakes his head and searches the room, finding a canvas bag with the E-Sea logo printed on its side lying in a pile of other canvas bags. He grabs it and steps over to the closest shelf. Teller cash drawers are stored at eye-level. Behind a single barred door lies the safe deposit boxes. Everything else below the drawers, however, are locked inside smaller safes. Twister gnashes his teeth.

"I'm going to need more firepower to crack these suckers open! I'll get what I can carry."

Browsing the drawers, he lifts one up and shakes its contents into the waiting bag. He grabs another and does the same, and continues until the bag is completely full. He ties it off and takes another bag.

"This is easier than . . . than . . . hm. I have to work on my quips. Quips? Is that the right word?"

Twister carries on mumbling to himself as he empties another drawer. He's so focused on his task, he doesn't hear the pounding against the walls.

Link to comment

After a sizable chunk of the wall falls out in front of him Rusty smiles grimly. With any luck Twister was still inside lining his pockets. Hopefully Rusty could get him before he spun out of the bank.

He pulls back and slugs the wall for the second time opening a normal person's fist sized hole in the wall. He sticks his head through and tries his best Nicholson. "Heeere's Rusty!"

Rusty leaps through the hole and lands in the rubble in front of Twister. In the same motion he comes around with a hard right towards Twister's knee. "Hey Twister! Right fist on Green!"

Link to comment


Twister finally jerks his head towards the hammering sound when it grows louder. When the wall is bashed apart, leaving a small hole, he drops the teller's drawer and the nearly-filled canvas bag onto the floor. They clang and jingle as they hit the ground. Twister's face turns ghostly pale at the sight of his opponent peering out of the wall.

"No! Impossible! You were under the throes of my power!"

Before he can react, the hero races bounds through the hole and smashes Twister's knee with his fist. Twister utterly collapses from the hit and folds over, and his feet lift off the ground as though a puppeteer is yanking him by his strings. He shoots across the cramped vault and collides into its steel wall with a meaty thud. The wall bends under the force of the impact, denting it severely.

Twister lands on his face and his arms and legs are splayed out. He moans, tries to lift himself up, then falls back onto the floor. He doesn't move again.

Link to comment

Rusty leans against the vault door and sucks wind. "Piece... of... cake...phew!"

He admires his handy work while catching his breath. The villain Twister was bruised and bleeding and was going to need some ice packs. The urge to do something unkind to the unconscious villain was strong but Rusty sighs and fights it off. It wasn't classy or heroic to give the defeated bad guy an atomic wedgie.

Rusty climbs out of the hole and heads out of the bank. Flashing lights reflect against what is left of the glass on the front of the bank. Three police vehicles outside stand blocking the roadway and the law hides behind them pointing guns towards the bank. They don't even notice Rusty walk out until he is halfway across the street. Finally one of the officers calls out, "Halt right there and let me see your hands!"

One of the bank employees yells, "No! He came and fought that Spinner!"

Another says, "I thought he was The Twirler?"

A third says, "Maybe it was the Swirlee?"

"Don't be ridiculous! Who would name themselves Swirlee? It was Twister!"

"Oh right and who would name themselves after a kids game?"

"Fine then what was his name?"


One of the officers lowers his weapon and calls out, "Hold your fire but keep your eyes on the bank!"

He steps from behind the car and approaches Rusty slowly. He asks rather incredulously, "So you fought the guy that broke in to rob the bank?"

Rusty rolls his eyes. "Yes. He's unconscious in the vault for the moment. You'd better get the bank manager to crack it open and haul him out of there before he wakes up all cranky."

The officer nods in understanding. Living in Freedom City as a cop made for some interesting stories. "And who are you?"

Rusty stops and looks at the cop, suddenly irritated. "What? Are you serious? I'm Rusty! Rusty Nail? Oh come on! I was just on the Channel 27 morning show!"

"Sorry, I guess I missed it. I'm already at work when that comes on. We're not exactly equipped to bring in the super criminals. STAR should be getting here..."

The rest was drowned out by a helicopter suddenly dropping from the sky above them and ropes falling to the ground. Several dangerous looking sorts slid down them quickly while another hovers in the air nearby.

The first flashes an ID at the police officer. "Thank you officer for securing the scene and seeing to the safety of the bystanders. We'll take this guy off your hands."

The cop nods to the newcomer who crouches down next to Rusty. "So you took out this guy?"

"Why does everyone sound so suprised?" asks Rusty.

"What's he calling himself?" asked the STAR agent.

"He calls himself The Twister," said Rusty.

"Like the kids game?"

"I'm thinking he was going for something else," suggests the little hero, "He spins. And he's got this..thing with his outfit that can mess with your head. He's sleeping it off in the vault for now. You'd better scoop him up before he digs his way out again. He spun right through the floor of the bank and into the vault."

"Good to know. Anything else we should look out for?" finished the agent.

Rusty shrugged, "He's kind of arrogant. It gets irritating."

The agent nods and the others have already moved into the bank.

"Well take it from here. Thanks for your help..."

"Rusty Nail," says the apparently less famous than he'd hoped hero.

"Right. Thanks Rusty."

"Just wish they'd been giving away ipods," mutters Rusty.

"What's that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing. Have fun."

The bank manager was being escorted into the bank by two heavily armed men.

Link to comment
This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Create New...