The Face Issue #2: Road to Disaster: Episode 8

Meanwhile, the men in the black suits ran outside of the store. I had safely reached the dark alley, and I pressed my back against the wall, to listen intently for any sign of my pursuers. I heard footsteps rumbling throughout the sidewalk, and they had stopped for a moment. "Where'd that punk go?!" Johnny cried. There was silence for a moment, most likely they were scanning the area. Then I heard Johnny again. "Alright, you guys know what to do. Let's split up gang!" He said in a rather outdated, Scooby-Doo Mystery sort of way.

I heard the group of footsteps diverge into different directions. Some were fading away, and others were getting louder. Sweat began trickling down my forehead, and my heart began to pulsate as the sound of the footsteps drew nearer. Then, for a moment, I heard the tracks stop.

Johnny spoke up once again, "Hey you!" he said, though I did not know to whom it was directed toward. Johnny continued, "Hey, have you seen any trench-coat-wearing punk galloping around here?"

I listened attentively to hear who the receiver of the message was. There was a moment of silence, perhaps the receiver was thinking,. Then, upon hearing the voice, I recognized it. The voice belonged to Tim. "Hmm......trenchcoat wearing punk? Oh!" He realized. "You must mean The Face, the super-hero crimefighting alias that I created!" He said triumphantly. "Oh, I think he went over into that dark alley over there." Tim pointed into the dark alley where I was. Then I sighed in hopelessness. "I can always count on you, Tim," I said to myself sarcastically. Taking his word, two of the mob men darted toward the alley. "Let's get 'im Shep!" Johnny cried.

Afterwards, Tim, belatedly realizing his mistake said to himself, "Oh no! I’ve made a terrible mistake!” Then he cried out to the mob men, "Hey guys! If you want to endorse him you gotta talk to me first! I'm his manager!" he yelled. He began to run after them, but unfortunately, an aggravated Samantha came out of the cafe. Tim saw her and stopped dead in his tracks. "Cripes!" he cried. "She can't see me here!" he thought to himself. Not wanting to risk being caught, he turned around and dove in front of a parked volkswagon. "Ha, now she won't be able to see me!" he thought. But he spoke too soon. After his statement was said, a loud honking noise blared through his ears. Apparently, Tim had picked the wrong car to jump in front of. The car alarm had gone off. Tim, noticing this, tried to quell the danger. "Shutup you stupid car!" He cried, angrily kicking the hood. The usual alert message replied, "Please step away from the vehicle. Please step away from the vehicle," as loud beeps, honks, and blares sounded aloud. Then, noticing this some time ago, an even more angered Samantha cried, "My car! Get away from my car you maniac!" she cried at Tim, not knowing who he actually was. Tim was in a jam. He began to frantically search for something to bail him out, but all was in vain.

Finally, without any ideas, he collapsed onto the ground. In an altered voice he cried, "Agh! My leg! My leg!" Tim clutched his leg in "supposed" agony. "Ah!" he groaned. Samantha ran over quickly, and Tim rolled over onto his stomach and put the hood of his sweatshirt on. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" She asked the hooded Tim. In the best altered voice he could muster he replied, "Did you see your car? It hit me! Agh! Pain, suffering, agony!" He lied. "I don't see how that's possible." She said skeptically. Tim, thinking about his science said, "It's all physics, confound it! Physics! Wait til I get my lawyer on this case. He'll swipe your money like a sack of bananas." He threatened. "Ah, let's be reasonable here!" she pleaded. Tim lay on the ground with his face down, and he finally negotiated. "Fine! Give me 33 bucks and you're free to go!" he bargained. Samantha looked at him disapprovingly. "That's a bit steep, don't you think?" she asked him. Tim threatened her again. "Oh, not rich enough for the poor broken-legged pedestrian, eh? I'll get my lawyer on this in 5 minutes tops!" Samantha, not wanting to risk a lawsuit, hesistantly reached into her purse to retrieve the requested 33 dollars. "Here, I'll help you up." she offered.

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"NO!" Tim yelled. "I mean, no, I can get up myself. After all, I do have quite the physique." He said. As best as he could, Tim hopped up, pretending to be physically handicapped. "OOh owch! Oooh!" he said. His back was turned to Samantha. She looked at his back perplexed. "Uhm, you can turn around now." She said to him. "Um, no, you see, your car sort of…..ruined my nicely featured face. I wouldn't want you to see the hideous scar it left. It's gruesome! Gruesome I tells ya!" he cried. "Umm.....ok." Samantha replied, handing him the 33 bucks. Then, she noticed something unusual about Tim. He was limping on his right leg, which is the leg he "supposedly" had broken. She inquired, "Hey, wasn't it your right leg that was broken?" Tim noticing his folly, gripped his right leg, and switched to hopping on his left. "Oh yeah!" He remembered. "Ohhh, agony, A-GO-NY!" he cried. Samantha, not buying any of this, screamed, "You con-artist! Give me my money back, or I'll really break your leg!" Tim stood there for a second and came to a decision. "Gotta go!" he said, then he quickly jetted off into the direction he was facing, away from her. Samantha in a fit, yelled, "You slimeball! Get back here, you won't get away with this!" and she chased after him like a lioness hunting her prey.

While the former event occurred, I was having my own troubles as well. After the ever-loyal Tim gave away my position, I frantically searched for a place to hide in the alley. I felt as if I were in a constant game of hide and seek. “Where should I go!?” I thought to myself, and looked around anxiously. I could hear the footsteps coming closer, and closer. The blood in my veins began to pump rapidly once again, and sweat trickled down my face. I searched and searched and finally found something. It was a sewer top. “A sewer! Of course! The traditional sewer is always a great escape route when faced with pursuers, like on television!” I reasoned. It was decided, I quickly galloped toward the sewer top, and gripped my fingers into the holes. Then I began to pull the top with all my might. “UUUGgggh!” I grunted, and pulled. “RAAWWRRG!” I moaned, and pulled harder. “AAAGGGHH!” I groaned, and pulled futilely. It was no use. I was too weak. “These sewers looked a lot lighter on television.” I said to myself. “Well, at least I won’t have to smell like poo-gas.” I reasoned. But I was running short on time, and had to act fast. The footsteps were closing in, closer than ever. Actually, I thought they’d be here by now, but this alley must have been really long. I searched some more, and I had a new plan. I spotted a ladder that was attached to the building. It was one of those fire escapes, with the little porches by each window.

“Of course! Another great route for the avid escape artist, just like on television!” I said. It was settled. However, there was a slight obstacle to overcome. The ladder was high above the ground, about 7 feet, to be exact. It was no problem, I thought. I would just have to get a running start. So quickly I walked backwards, increasing my distance in order to receive more lift, so I could reach the lowest bar. On the count of three, I would run. “1…..2…….3!” I cried. I darted at a furious pace toward the ladder. Closer and closer it came. I was closing in on it. There was 5 feet left, 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 1 feet, 0 feet….then –1/2 feet. “No! I missed it I thought to myself!” Then, all of sudden, I made an unplanned leap into the air, and soared for another 3 feet………and I landed into a dirty dumpster. The lid had closed on top of me as I landed in a profuse-smelling bin, full of rank waste.

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The two mob-men came running past the garbage bin, and near the end of the alley. “My golly. He just went up and disappeared, Johnny!” Shep remarked in awe. Johnny jumped up and slapped Shep upside his chin, for he could not reach his face. “No you idjit! This means that that pie-eating punk over by the highway was fibbin’ to us!” He concluded. “He won’t be eatin’ pies when I get done beatin this crowbah into ‘im!” Johnny continued, beating the crowbar into his hand lightly. “Uh, he wasn’t eatin’ no pies, Johnny. I saw,” Shep pointed out in his low, raspy voice. Johnny slapped him upside the chin once again. “You idjit! I call him what I want!” He argued. “Besides….I wanted to make dis dialoge more creative, you know, sorta like addin an alliterational touch, you know what I’m sayin’?” He asked. Thinking for a few moments, Shep sounded out the term “alliteration” under his breath. “Ah, yeah boss, now I get it,” Shep agreed. He then put a gracious look upon his face and began to clap his hands.

“Quit it you numbskull! We’re not playin’ around here! Look, over there. It’s a sewer. You know those police shows. That’s where all dah escapees go to escape!” He thought. I had opened the lid to the garbage can slightly and watched them closely. All of a sudden, Johnny pointed his finger in my direction. I gasped. “HEY!” he cried. “And over dere, that’s a fire escape. A poifect place to shimmy up and lose us!” he continued. I sighed in relief. “Alright.” Johnny began. “Here’s the plan. You take the ladder, since yor tall, and I’ll look inside the sewer,” he stated. “Will do boss!” Shep abided. Johnny and Shep went their separate ways. Upon reaching the manhole, Johnny stooped down to open the sewer top that covered the it. “Dis should be a piece o’ cake.” He said. Johnny then grabbed the holes with his fingers and pulled with all his might. “UUUGgggh!” he grunted, and pulled. “RAAWWRRG!” he moaned, and pulled harder. “AAAGGGHH!” he groaned, and pulled futilely. It was no use. He was too weak. “Dawn, rassa-fracking sewer top. It’s cemented I tells ya!” He cried out. He then picked up his crowbar and began to try and lever the manhole up. He pushed down on one end of the crow bar, while the other rested in the hole, under the top. “Hoooowaaaaaah!” He cried, pushing with all his might. “Haroooohh!!!!” He screamed, still pushing down. “Hagoonnaaaaaaahh!” he cried, still pushing with all his might, uselessly. “Stupid Physics.” He said. “It’s no good for anything!” he cried in anger. Giving up, he called over to Shep. “Hey Shep! Get ovah here! I changed my mind. You take the sewer, I’ll take the ladder!” He cried. “Yeah, uh, I just don’t wanna smell like poo-gas ovah here. This is new suit, you know.” He covered up. “Will do, boss!” Shep replied from the distance. And he came running back towards the sewer. “Yeah, see if you can open up that sewer top. I tells ya, it’s cemented there’s no way anybo….” A loud sound interrupted Johnny’s speech. Apparently Shep had removed the manhole cover with relative ease. “Doesn’t seem cemented to me,” Shep replied. Embarrassed at his frailty, Johnny said, “Uhh, hey, I loosened it up for yas.” Shep then jumped into the sewer and went a searching.

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Johnny went on his way, toward the fire escape. He looked up at the high ladder, reaching 7 feet above the ground, much greater than his measly 5-foot stature. “Dis is a problem,” he said. “Maybe I should call back Shep.” He contemplated. “No!” He decided. He took out a razor from his pocket and held it up high. “I……am a man!” He cried out loud, in slight confidence. I was still in the dumpster, watching everything, waiting for the right time to escape. I saw Johnny talking to himself once again. “All’s I needs ta do, is get a running start!” He thought. So Johnny backtracked, many yards away, in order to increase the distance and create more “lift.” “Alright,” he said, “On the count of 3!” Johnny got into his running stance. “1…..2…….3!” he cried out loud. He then began at a furious pace toward the ladder. I saw what he is planning to do, and braced my eyes. “This won’t end well,” I said to myself. Closer and closer to the ladder Johnny came. He was closing in within 5 feet, 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 1 feet, 0 feet, -3/4 feet, as fast as his little feet could take him. “Doggone it!” He cursed. “I went too far!” Unfortunately, as I was before, Johnny was out of control, and he made an unscheduled departure from the ground. His short-legged stature did not provide a good enough lift. “Sheeeeeeeeeppp!!!!!” He cried frantically as he was hurling closer and closer to the garbage can. Quickly, I dove to the opposite side of the dumpster. Then I heard a loud bang in the front of it. I opened my eyes to see a slight indentation in the metal. “Ouch.” I said. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I lifted the lid to the dumpster and leaped out. “She….EeE…..eEP?” Johnny said, rather beaten. A second later he left his state of consciousness, and I fled out of the alley.

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Meanwhile, the elusive Tim was trying to outmaneuver and outrun his enraged predator. He turned onto a street corner and fled into a street of trafficked cars that stalled in the road. Samantha was close behind him, growling and roaring in rage. “Thief! Thief!” She cried in a ravenous tone. Tim, arms flailing wildly, weaved in and out between the cars, trying to lose her. To Tim, it was like an intense game of Pac-man.

“All I need to do is find away to outmaneuver her! This Pac-man isn’t going to get eaten!” He vowed to himself. Quickly, slithering like snake, he made his way straight into a pack of cars, then he swirled around two of them and fled into the other direction. It was like a game of tag. The persistent Samantha would not be shaken. She would follow him to the very last ounce of her breath. “Man, she’s tough.” He concluded.

He thought as he ran in a straight line on the road, in between the crowded cars. “I call this one…..the roll-over!” He then got on top of the roof of a cab, and began rolling over it, all the way to the other side. He dropped down, and ran north, in an attempt to sway her. Samantha looked around for a moment, it seemed as though she had lost him. But unfortunately, due to his height, he could be easily sighted. She darted after him even faster than before, roaring like a hungry lioness.

“Criminy!” Tim cried. He had to think fast, he was being worn out, he couldn’t keep this up much longer. It was much easier to sit around and control the character running on the screen than actually doing the running himself. He came up with a last effort plan. “I call this one my….hide-under the cars maneuver!” He cried. Quickly, he crouched down onto the ground, and laid flat on his stomach. He then continued to crawl under a large truck. “Heh, she’ll never get me here.” He thought. Tim waited and waited, thinking he had finally outsmarted Samantha. But all of a sudden, he could here footsteps. But not just footsteps, he heard growling, and a loud sniffing sound as well. “You can’t hide, you two-timing snake!” she yelled, sniffing wildly about. It was as if Samantha had lost all sense of her self, and let her wild instincts take over her. She then looked underneath the truck where Tim was hiding. “Dagnabbit!” He yelled. “I can’t shake her!” Samantha, the raging beast cried, “I have you now!” She darted underneath the truck in an effort to catch her thief. But just in time, Tim rolled sideways out into the open and quickly rose to his feet. Samantha followed suit.

“This is no use!” He cried, while running wildly about. “Alright, I was hoping not to do this!” he said to himself. Tim then scurried onto the sidewalk, and began running across it. He whistled for a cab, and when it came near, the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. “If anything, I can say that this cab is weird,” Tim said. The cab pulled up next to him and rolled down the window. The man had a typical New-Yorkian accent.

“’Ey!” he yelled. “Need a ride?” he asked. “Yes!” Tim cried, almost out of breath. “Then stop runnin’ and get in here!” The cab driver instructed. Samantha was right on Tim’s tail. If this didn’t work, Tim would be beaten…..badly. “I can’t stop! You see that woman behind me! She’ll kill me if I stop! I am going….to open the door and jump inside! That’s when you stop! Ok?” He screamed to the driver. “Uhh, ok, but this is gonna cost you extra!” The driver explained. So Tim, carefully executing his plan, reached his hand out to the door handle of the car. “Come on….steady…..steady….” Tim was drenched with sweat. He had never done so much running in his life. His hand struggled to stay steady, he tried to keep it in line with door handle, and maneuver himself closer to the cab while running. Slowly he crept over to the door, and success! Tim’s hand had reached the handle. Speedily, he opened up the door. The cab was driving relatively fast, while the door hung over. Now Tim had to jump into the doorway.

“This is where I test my leap of faith!” He cried. He heard Samantha’s ravenous screams roaring behind him. “Hooyah!” Tim pushed off the ground and dove into the car, with his feet dangling outside of the door. The driver quickly pressed on the breaks, causing Tim to fall onto the floor, due to Newton’s law of motion. The door to the cab closed, and Tim was safe…..for now. Samantha was still running but soon came to a halt. She ran back at the cab and began clawing at the door. When she looked at the window she was shocked and appalled to see her co-worker. “TIM!?!?!” She cried. “WHY YOU! RAWR!” She roared.

She opened the door to the car, and was ready to rip Tim limb from limb. Tim, realizing his situation, snapped open the opposite door, and flung it wide. As Samantha climbed in the door on the right, Tim exited the cab through the door on the left. He slammed the door behind him right in Samantha’s face and yelled to the driver up front. “Hurry! Now! To the Vatican!” he cried. The cab driver was confuzzled. “The Vatican? You mean the Pope’s palace? In Europe?” he inquired. “Yes, she’s a news reporter she can handle it!” Tim cried. “Hurry now, Go, go, go!” A smirk appeared on the driver’s face. “Alright, I’ll be rollin’ in the dough for sure!!” he yelled happily, and he sped off.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Samantha cried, but it was too late, she watched as Tim’s happily waving hand bid her farewell, while the cab drove off into the distance. As the cab drifted off into the horizon, Tim dusted his hands off in satisfaction, and whispered to himself, “Mission...Accomplished.”

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Back at the Café, I hid behind a tree in front of the Stardollars Café. I heard frantic footsteps rushing out of the alley. It was Shep, carrying a bruised, battered, and unconscious Johnny.

“Help, someone, help!” Shep cried.

“Man down! Man down!” Barney and the man with the gold pendant came rushing towards them.

“By the love of Scotland’s belt-buckled shoes, what happened here!?” Barney asked.

“It was that lousy, stinkin, no-face guy. He did this!” Shep cried angrily.

“Oh when I see him again, he’ll pay for this! Pay for this like a fox!” He yelled.

At that very moment, we could all hear a loud airborne, fluttering noise. It grew louder and louder, and seemed to becoming closer and closer.

The man with the gold pendant cried, “You guys have got to get out of here! Quick! I can’t be seen like this!” He cried.

Quickly he pushed the other mob members into the other direction, and they fled back into the bridal store where their hideout remained. Meanwhile the man with the gold pendant disappeared into the shadows of the dark alley.