Dragon Ball Z Uncensored

[Spamdini]

Detective Callaghan is led through golden halls of FTUW tower's top floor. He is unable to get so much as a peep out of his guide, further confusing the normally unconfusable detective as to why he was summoned to the king's quarters. Mammoth diamond-inlaid doors swing open and the lowly detective comes face to face with one of the most powerful and influential men in America, King Hoity von Toity.

"Detective, take a seat," the ruler says politely, gesturing to a gray leather chair, made from elephant hide. "We don't have any rules about animals on the furniture here." Callaghan gets on the chair and sits there nonchalantly. "You're sure about this?" von Toity whispers to Wilson. Wilson smiles and nods and von Toity goes along with it.

"Sir, I am quite occupied at the moment," Callaghan says dryly. "Bureaucracy is an indication of a sophisticated society, but it is also quite time-consuming. I must be returning to my work soon."

Von Toity laughs and shakes his head. "No need to worry about that! We'll let less valuable men handle such petty affairs. What I have to discuss with you is a matter of national security."

Callaghan's ears perk up upon hearing this. "Tell me, why would national security require a city detective? I was under the impression you had all the minds and muscle you need to handle your personal troubles exclusively. That is, unless, it is something that requires very special skills."

"Ho ho ho, sharp as they say! You're right, I do have brains and brawn at my disposal. However, those are generally two very exclusive things. I have no one who both exhibits the intellectual and deductive abilities necessary for the job as well as the combat skill to handle the messy stuff."

Callaghan lights up a cigarette and takes a deep, pensive haul. Wilson waves his hand at the smoke in disgust, but von Toity keeps smiling. "Well then," Callaghan asks, "what kind of criminal would attempt to destroy Nouveau-Richonia? He does not sound like a petty goon lord if you can't just squash him by force. Does this have anything to do with the fall of Caligula Lightning and the rebirth of FTUW?"

Von Toity claps his hands heartily. "Ha ha ha, how very astute of you! Yes, this very much has to do with FTUW. Both present and past. Are you familiar with the name Kenjiro Kanzaki?"

"Japanese FTUW wrestler, brother of former FTUW champion Rakkyu Saketumi. Excelled in his studies at Junction Star High School, though he was also known to get into brawls from time to time. Often for justifiable reasons, though he built a certain reputation in spite of it. Disappeared after Superman vs. Goku, only to reappear in Caligula's bloodsports. Current location and activities unknown."

"Very thorough! I'm sure you also know that FTUW often tracks the movements of their wrestlers and televises bits of their lives. Lately, we've been doing the same for the new crop of wrestlers. However, Kanzaki's been exceedingly difficult to track. In fact, no one knew where he would go between events during the Caligula days."

"I'm guessing you know though," Callaghan states with a smirk.

"Well, I've sent various agents out searching for him, including my former wrestlers Dwayne Guan and Reverend Zeebo Sykes. In the end we were not able to keep him from escaping, but we did find this much out about why he's been so secretive.

"As you mentioned earlier, Kanzaki is Rakkyu Saketumi's brother. He originally entered FTUW to follow in his footsteps, or so they said."

"And you believe this to be a lie?"

Von Toity sighs and shakes his head. "All this time, he's been looking to avenge his brother. Against those who killed him and stole his family from him."

"Theldorrin XIV? But he's gone now."

"No, not just Theldorrin. All of FTUW. He joined the league in order to destroy it. Originally, the rage was in fact directed mostly towards Theldorrin XIV. However, a certain other incident changed it into a much broader hatred."

Callaghan chains another cigarette. "The destruction of Japan."

Von Toity claps and laughs again. "Nothing gets by you! Yes yes, Rapist Paradise!? there was the infamous Bukakke Brawl Between Handsomus R. Awesome and My Head Hurts 90, which escalated into a blast of semen destroying the entire nation. Fortunately, it was Sunday. Otherwise, that country would have been full! However, millions were left homeless and that included Kanzaki. And then there's that another guy..."

"Bunzo Arakaki?"

"Yes, him. He was murdered in awful fashion at Death Race 2007, shortly before the apocalypse occurred. All these factors left Kanzaki a ball of bitter rage."

"Might I ask what this all has to do with national security?"

"Simple! He's been in hiding because he's plotting to destroy FTUW and Nouveau-Richonia. That's why I need you to help put him to justice!"

Callaghan stands up and extends a paw straight at von Toity. "That's a glaring inconsistency!"

"!!!"

"Kanzaki's been in hiding for several months now. However, FTUW was only revived recently. Why would he have gone into hiding to destroy FTUW months before it was brought back?!"

Von Toity smiles and sighs. "No need to get that worked up with me. I'm your benefactor, not a common criminal. I never said destroying FTUW headquarters was his first goal. Initially, he wanted to destroy FTUW in another way."

"Another way?"

"Think about it. FTUW as an organization was dead, but there was plenty remnants still around. What about the two that destroyed Japan?"

"Handsomus R. Awesome and My Head Hurts 90? But they're dead. Their corpses were burned shortly after the apocalypse."

"Our men looked into that. Firstly, Handsomus' body was probably burn-proof or something. Secondly, their actual corpses were never really found!"

!!!

"It's doubtful that they're still alive, but a being of pure hatred like Kanzaki wouldn't likely rest until he made absolutely sure. Especially with My Head Hurts 90, the man who killed his best friend."

Callaghan puts out his cigarette and begins to get angry. "So he's been preparing all this time to kill two men who probably aren't alive? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Do you have kibble in your ears? I already told you that he hates FTUW and wants to destroy everything about it!"

"Huh?"

"Who owned FTUW when Japan was destroyed and Bunzo was killed?"

"Aaaaah!!"

Von Toity claps again. "Now you get it! He holds me personally responsible for what happened! I suppose if supreme court law suits still existed, he might even have a case."

"So he doesn't want to destroy Nouveau-Richonia because of FTUW headquarters. He wants to do it in order to exact revenge on you!"

"Now you understand what kind of a mind we're dealing with! FTUW's revival will surely cause him to accelerate his plot as well! That's why you have to accept the mission I have for you. In the next month, you have to gather evidence as to the whereabouts of Kanzaki in between his bouts as well as evidence of how he plans to carry out his plans of terrorism. Your second mission is to confront him at FTUW Murdergeddon Resurrection and arrest him! Will do accept the mission?"

Stuck in pensive though, Callaghan puts his paws to his forehead. "..."

"Well?" von Toity asks again.

"...no."

"No?!"

"You're the one with kibble in your ears, King von Toity! I told you that I'm a city detective. I am not going to leave my town to become an anti-terrorism agent, and I'm definitely not going to become a pro wrestler! Find yourself another man."

Callaghan rises from his seat and heads for the door. However, Von Toity just smirks.

"What about your wife?"

Callaghan stops in his tracks.

"What did you say?" he asks.

"You still don't know who murdered her, do you? It's your one unsolved case. I could help you. My resources are near limitless and I am sure that I can rattle enough cages to find the lowlife who did it. All you have to do is take the missions I've placed before you." With that, von Toity places an envelope with Kanzaki-related information onto the table. "You'll find plenty of money for your expenses as well. And heck, you might even end up becoming FTUW champion to boot!"

Reluctantly, Detective Callaghan places the envelope into his jacket pocket and walks off. King von Toity is quite pleased with himself as Wilson prepares him a drink. Sipping on the fine imported malt liquor, he snaps his fingers at his trusty assistant and says "Make sure the 'random brackets' work to our advantage. Give our good detective a bye and give Kanzaki the most formidable foe you can find for the first round. Have the detective fight the winner in the second round just in case. Put The ILLUSIONIST and the 'other wrestler' in other brackets and give them byes as well."

"Speaking of the 'other wrestler' sir, we have found him and we're ready to bring him in."

"Excellent! Go fetch him!" Wilson obliges and leaves the room. With a great sense of satisfaction, von Toity opens a black box and twiddles a jewel in his hands playfully.

The Rawk Stone!

[Vinny]

This was very awesome.

[Action Hank]

What could Toity be up to?!?!?

[Spamdini]

It's late at night, the moon providing the only on the highway. That is until a bus EXPLODES into a mass of flames and destruction! A silhouette looks at the fire with glee, grinning madly.

"Heh heh, I hear they don't look kindly on murder in these parts. Oh well. That's why I'll pin it on HIM!"

May 29th, 7:00
Outskirts of Kansas City

Jake Callaghan's beat up Mustang rolls down the highway to Kansas City, Nouveau-Richonia. Today, the city serves as a training ground for Nouveau-Richonia soldiers and Ring of Rage fighters. Plans for a future FTUW gym are already being drawn up, in anticipation of the inevitable fatalities requiring an expanded roster. There is also a sense of local pride among the elite trainers who work there. They sport native Indian tribal face paints and wear red and gold clothing, in remembrance of their city's once former pride. They also have the heads of the former Royals on pikes, in remembrance in their former shame.

Just before entering city limits, he sees the site of a terrible accident with police cars and other emergency vehicles all around. Surely someone must have enough free time to give directions.

"Excuse me," Det. Callaghan asks an EMT who is leaning against a truck. "I'm looking for someone who should be in town, but I'm not very familiar with the city. Where would I ask?"

"Huh? Well, the boss of the Chiefs should know. But he's usually pretty busy. This someone really important?"

"Yeah," the Detective replies. "His name is Warrior."

"!!!"

"Something the matter?"

"Er, well you see..."

"What a cute little doggy!" exclaims a new voice. A big dumb looking plainclothes cop comes out of nowhere and begins scratching behind Det. Callaghan's ear, much to his simultaneous annoyance and pleasure.

"Ah...thank you very much," says Callaghan, "but I'm in a bit of a rush. I only have two weeks in order to find someone and I need the help of Mr. Warrior. You wouldn't happen to know where he's staying, would you?"

The cop scratches his head and sighs. "Hate to tell you this, pup, but he's currently in a holding cell down at the station."

"What?!"

"See this here mess? Seems as if he did it."

"!!!"

"That smoking pile of steel and ash used to be a bus that was carrying at least 30 passengers. But now, all of them are dead, their bodies burned until not even their bones were left behind."

"How do you know it was Warrior? You aren't blaming him because he's an out-of-towner, are you?"

The plainclothes cop shakes his head. "Actually, we've got a whole lotta evidence against him. Firstly, there's the piece of the bus that flew off."

The cop brings the detective to a large piece of scrap that used to belong to the side of the bus. It is badly scorched, but one can see a picture of a rainbow and the letters "GAY BUS RID" underneath. "As you know," the cop continues. "Mr. Warrior is none too fond of homosexuals."

"Yeah, you have to be pretty dedicated to your hatred to name your son Queerbasher. But many of the Chiefs are former football players, hardcore army vets and other macho types. I'm sure they'd probably want to kill gays as well."

"Yeah, but we have eyewitnesses too. They both say that they saw Warrior jump on top of the bus, punch through the roof and kill the driver. Then he steered the bus into several barrels of TNT."

"Uh...there were barrels of TNT lying around?"

The cop smiles goofily. "Don't ask me, pup! He musta set them up for just such an occasion. Anyways, one of the witnesses says that they saw him emerge from the flames and sprint back into the city. Who else do you think could have done that and not die?"

"Jeez, I knew Warrior was intense but takes the cake. Could you direct me to the police station?"

The cop proceeds to continue scratching Jake. This time it's just uncomfortable and weird. "Sure thing pup! Drive down main street until you get to 69.13th street. Turn left and it's just one block after that!"

"69.13? Your street names have decimals?"

"Uh huh. Actually, it used to just be 13th street, but the Chiefs changed all the streets so that they're all 69.something."

Det. Callaghan snickers and walks back to his car.

"Oh!" the detective adds. "Tell them Detective Fuck Ingretard sent you! They'll let you see the suspect that way."

Callaghan nods and drives off. Fuck Ingretard? Did his parents hate him, or is he someone's bitch and they made him change his name?

[Spamdini]

May 29th, 7:34
KCPD 1st precinct, Detention Center

Warrior, in all his mighty glory, sits behind a plexiglas window. He is bound from head-to-toe in chains. Armed guards are poised to shoot if he so much as grunts the wrong way.

"Who in the hell are you, queer?" the gigantic brute hisses through his exposed teeth.

"My name is Detective Jake Callaghan. I'm here to ask a few questions."

Warrior snorts, the hot air from his fiery lungs melting the plexiglas slightly. "More corrupt cops, huh? There was a time when the police could be counted on to not spit in the face of good God-fearing men like me! They would put crackheads and other liberal abominations in jail to protect the law-abiding citizens from the corruption that's killing our children. Now they're just limp-wristed nancy boys who dance to the tune of faggot bleeding hearts because they don't want to stop the cause of all that's sick and twisted in America! And since when can you even get arrested for murder nowadays?!"

Det. Callaghan's expression is a little blank after the intensity of the diatribe, but tries to regain his composure. "Er, well, Nouveau-Richonia is much more progressive than the rest of America. Law and order are being re-established, and murder is a capital offense. They haven't been able to gather up enough ashes to determine how many died, but it seems as if you're up to be executed about 30 times over."

"PROGRESSIVE?! WHEN HAS BEING PROGRESSIVE MADE ANYTHING BETTER?! GRAAAAAAAAAAH!" Warrior bellows, his bulging muscles causing the chains to begin to bend and begin to snap. The guards aim their rifles at his head.

"W-Warrior, calm down! Otherwise they'll shoot you!"

Using Warrior-breathing techniques taught by his dead ancestors, he returns to normal. "Yeah, well, I'm not answering any more of your questions."

"No no, I'm not a Kansas City detective! I'm from Branson. King von Toity commissioned me to get information on Kenjiro Kanzaki. I heard you were one of the last people known to have been in contact with him outside of Caligula's bloodsports. Do you have any idea where he was headed to?"

"Hmph, the chink queer. Well after the beating he gave me, I owe him no favors."

"So you'll tell me?"

Warrior chuckles to himself. "I don't owe you any favors either. Your boss is my boss now, but that doesn't mean I have to give a shit about your mission."

"...I see."

"Tell you what," says Warrior. "I'll make you a deal. Get me the fuck outta here and I'll tell you what you need to know."

But Callaghan shakes his head. "I'm not breaking you out."

"Who said anything about breaking me out? Just prove my innocence!"

This surprises Callaghan. "You mean you didn't kill the homosexuals in the bus? I find that hard to believe."

"Hell no I didn't! If I wanted to kill a bus full of queers, don't you think that I would have gorilla pressed the bus into a ravine full of abortionists? Driving it into explosives isn't my style!"

"Well, can't argue with that logic," Callaghan says with a shrug. "I'll see what I can do. Sit tight till then.

"WARRIOR'S GOTTA BE FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" That's the last thing Det. Callaghan hear as he walks out of the station. He climbs back into his car and drives back to the scene of the crime.

"Hmm...maybe I should find out more about these so-called witnesses."

[Spamdini]

May 29th, 8:18 AM
Outskirts of Kansas City

Det. Callaghan returns to the scene of the crime. All the fires have been put out and the emergency vehicles have all left. However, a multitude of cops still prowl around the area for evidence. Callaghan gets out of his car and lights up a cigarette. As he examines the crime scene, a familiar voice is heard from a few feet away.

Det. Ingretard: Hey pup!

Det. Callaghan: *groan*

Det. Ingretard: Look hon, look kids! That's the talking doggie I was talking about!

A frumpy looking woman with a goofy smile on her face and two children, a boy and a girl who sport equally vacant expressions, stand beside the local detective. They all run up to Det. Callaghan and begin tugging on his ears and petting him.

Girl: He's so cuuuuuuuuute!

Boy: Gosh mommy, can we have him?

Mrs. Ingretard: Oh I dunno. Ask your father.

Det. Ingretard: Ha ha ha, sorry kids! He's not a pet so much as he's a cop like me!

Rather annoyed, Det. Callaghan begins barking and scares of the Ingretard family. He regains his composure and walks back to the smoking wreckage. However, Det. Ingretard stands in his way.

Det. Ingretard: Hey now pup, you can't go over there! It's cops only!

Callaghan flashes his badge and continues to stroll towards the scene. Ingretard still stops him, though.

Det. Ingretard: I mean KC police only! You big city boys may let any ol' person around your crime scenes, but we run things a bit different here!

Det. Callaghan: Fine, who do I have to get permission from to examine the wreck for evidence?

Det. Ingretard: Well, I guess either the chief of police or the chief of the Chiefs. But I doubt either one would say yes, so forget about it!

Callaghan sighs as he resigns himself to the overzealous and underbrained Kansas detective.

Det. Callaghan: Ok, so who are the witnesses? You can tell me that much right?

Det. Ingretard: Hmmm...yeah, I guess that makes sense!

Det. Callaghan: (Is this guy just making up rules as he goes along?)

Det. Ingretard: There were two eyewitnesses at the scene and another witness who can attest to the state of Warrior's mind the day of the murder. The two eyewitnesses should still be around here. As for the other witness, that would be the chief of the Chiefs himself.

Callaghan thanks the detective and walks along the scene of the crime until he spots a middle-aged woman smiling and chatting up an officer. She is dressed conservatively in a Sunday dress and a bonnet. Considering how out of place she looks (here or anywhere, really), Callaghan figures she must be one of the witnesses.

Det. Callaghan: Excuse me ma'am! May I have a word with you?

???: Why certainly, sir! My these sure are grisly circumstances, are they not?

Det. Callaghan: Er, yes I suppose so. I'm detective Jake Callaghan of the Branson police department.

???: Harriet Cotchery. I'm the head of the local church fundraising committee and president of the Woman Warriors!

Callaghan smirks. Don't see women this naive much anymore.

Det. Callaghan: Ok Ms. Cotchery, can you give your account of the events of last night?

Harriet: Certainly! It was about 1 AM and my car broke down on the side of the highway. I was driving back from a weekend with the Woman Warriors in glorious Branson. My husband owns an organ harvesting plant and is quite well to do. He gave me the money to go see a few shows and play the nickel slots. Unfortunately, my suitcase was stolen while I was there so my trip was cut short. On the way home, my engine overheated and I got stuck just a couple miles out of town. I was calling for a tow when I saw the bus drive by. It was swerving all over the highway and I got scared that it was going to hit me so I ran behind my car. On the roof, I saw a madman with facepaint grinning insanely as he punched through the roof! After that...oh god...

Det. Callaghan: I'm sorry about what you had to go through.

Harriet: They should hang that awful man right now! He killed all those poor people.

Det. Callaghan: By the way ma'am, why'd your engine blow out? You haven't had your car checked out lately?

Harriet: Erm...I don't know. My husband usually takes care of car things like that. It's his, you see.

The detective is skeptical and takes a quick glace at the car parked just on the side of the road.

Det. Callaghan: Your husband's car is hot pink with kitten printing on the seats? Come now, Mrs. Cotchery! You'll have to do better than that!

Harriet: Um...

Det. Callaghan: Let's try that again. About the car...

Harriet: What I meant to say was my husband bought the car for me. I drive it, but it's his money that bought it. I really don't know much about cars, so I never really had it checked out or anything.

Det. Callaghan: Oh, ok. By the way, I feel I have an eye for cars myself. You'll be happy to know you didn't lose that great an engine. Can probably be replaced at any junkyard.

Harriet: Are you nuts?! That was a 20-cylinder, 1000 horsepower bad mama capable of hitting close to 200 mph on the open road! There was no better way to travel! It's gonna be heck getting a new one!

Det. Callaghan: *whistles* Looks like you really put some care into that engine after all!

Harriet: Huh? Oh...um...

Det. Callaghan: Of course, if you liked it that much you probably would have gotten it checked out before going on a trip to the big city. But that's just me. Say, if you went to Branson with the Woman Warriors, why didn't you charter a bus for everyone?

Harriet: Uuuh...well, we wanted to take our own cars. We ARE independent women, you know!

Det. Callaghan: Even for independent women, it's a big city and there are a lot of goons who come looking for a good time. You really thought it would be a good idea to all come in your individual cars?

Harriet: Y-yeah, guess we didn't think it through.

Det. Callaghan: So all you did was see a few shows and gamble a little bit?

Harriet: Of course! What else could I possibly be interested in?

Det. Callaghan: I dunno, maybe a different type of "fun" if you catch my drift.

Harriet: H-h-how dare you!!

Det. Callaghan: Don't bother protesting, Mrs. Cotchery. I'm a dog, you know. My sense of smell is much keener than a human being's. I can smell at least ten different types of semen from your mouth and genitals.

Harriet: !!!!

Det. Callaghan: *sigh* (Which I guess would qualify as a curse more than a gift)

Harriet: My private life has nothing to do with the case!

Det. Callaghan: It does have to deal with why you were at the crime scene! I don't think your engine just burned out on its own!

Harriet: G-guuuuuuuuh!

Det. Callaghan: You didn't go to Branson with your Woman Warriors. You went there to engage in intercourse with numerous gang members vacationing there. After sex with that many partners, I'm sure your vaginal juices must have been flowing like a tap! Even after coitus was performed, you were still as wet as my nose! Your underwear must have gotten quite damp as a result. If I can make an assumption about your marriage, you two probably have so much as touched each other since before the apocalypse. If you came home to your husband with wet underwear, he would most certainly be suspicious! So on the drive home, you put your all your soiled underwear on top of the engine to dry off! Except they caught on fire and ended up fucking up your car!

Mrs. Cotchery grabs the bonnet off of her head and begins tugging and ripping it apart while listening to the detective's explanation.

Harriet: S-shut up, you rude little asshole! How dare you treat a lady of the community like this! Wait till I tell our church group about this! They'll wring your scruffy neck!

Det. Callaghan: I only point this out because I think you're using the accident as an excuse to draw attention away from your own infidelity. That's why you're blaming Warrior for a crime he didn't commit.

Harriet: What are you talking about?! I swear that I saw him!

Det. Callaghan: Describe him again, please.

Harriet: Long fluffy hair, armbands around his biceps, built like a truck...a sexy truck... and a design on his face, like a mask or paint. I remember that evil smile on his face so fondly.

Det. Callaghan: That's the second time you talked about his evil smile.

Harriet: So?

Det. Callaghan: Mrs. Cotchery...WARRIOR DOESN'T HAVE A SMILE!

Harriet: W-WHAT?!?!

Det. Callaghan: Warrior's face is just a skull with war paint added directly to the bone! So there's no way you could have seen the man smiling! He doesn't have lips to smile with!

Harriet: I...that...that's not true! I swear that I saw him! And I saw that smile!

Harriet tears her bonnet to shreds and starts swinging her purse like a ball-and-chain, ready to strike the detective down. Fortunately, several officers arrive to restrain the mad woman before she can start attacking. Callaghan puts out his cigarette and walks back to Det. Ingetard.

Det. Callaghan: Looks like I've found a hole in her statement. She's full of shit.

Det. Ingretard: Gosh, that's so weird. But her story is still backed up by the second eyewitness.

Det. Callaghan: Bring him on!

[Vinny]

Haha, that was awesome and gross.

[Spamdini]

May 29th, 8:30 AM
Outskirts of Kansas City

Detective Callaghan walks along with Detective Ingretard as they look for the other eyewitness to the crime.

Det. Callaghan: By the way, there's been something on my mind.

Det. Ingretard: Oh? What is it?

Det. Callaghan: Where was Warrior staying in Kansas City?

Det. Ingretard: At the Rock n' Rape hotel on 69.54th street.

Det. Callaghan: And I assume that there were night front desk clerks there?

Det. Ingretard: Of course! In fact, we've already interviewed them all.

Det. Callaghan: So did any of them actually see Warrior leave the hotel?

Det. Ingretard: Well no...

Det. Callaghan: And that doesn't strike you as suspicious? Someone like Warrior tends to stick out. How could he have left his hotel room without anyone noticing?

Det. Ingretard: Um, well, we found a Warrior-shaped hole in the wall of his room. We're pretty sure that's how he got out.

Det. Callaghan: (Um...yeah, I guess that would do it)

Suddenly, a shrill voice attacks the poor dog detective's ears.

???: Hellooooooooo, honeys!

The source of the scream is a tall, lanky and extremely effeminate man dressed up in pink mascara, high heel shoes, long wavy blonde hair and a sparkling, sequined fuchsia shirt which is left unbuttoned, exposing his hairless body. Also belts, I guess.

Det. Ingretard: Ah, here he is! The other eyewitness!

Det. Callaghan: (I was afraid of that...)

???: How are you today, my furry little pal?

He pirouettes and then curtsies.

???: My name is Antoine LaFeye! Please to be of service to you! *wink*

Det. Callaghan: (ugh) Well Mr. LaFeye, could you please describe the events of that evening?

LaFeye: Certainly, you little cutie <3! You see, I was supposed to be on that bus. *sniff* Oh my poor little darlings!

Det. Callaghan: You knew the victims?

LaFeye: We all came from Gay Man's Land. We called our trip the Lovely Gay Bus Ride of Gayness. We went from town to town looking for new gay communities after the fall of the Holy Lightning Empire. That queer hater kept us in check, but now that Caligula's gone we can spread our maaaaaaaaaagic!

Another pirouette.

Det. Callaghan: (Traveling around trying to spread gayness in a goon-ruled landscape? It was like they were asking to be murdered...)

LaFeye: Ooooh ho ho ho! You look skeptical, detective. Believe me, we're a lot tougher than we look!

LaFaye blows a kiss as Callaghan pants (dogs can't shed sweatdrops, you see).

Det. Callaghan: (That's not hard. I've seen potted plants that look tougher than this guy.)

LaFeye: Anyways, there just wasn't enough jizzing to go around in Sinclair City, so I decided to head to our next destination right away. I figured that Nouveau-Richonia is pretty under control so I'd be safe traveling alone. KC was lame though. All I met was one little whiny faggot who would only be the catcher. That's not my style! I like tough guys who play tough with me! Getting back to that night, I was waiting for my darlings by the highway side. They were due in town that evening so I waited for them with my prettiest dress. It was about 1 AM when I saw the bus coming down the road and I nearly squirted in my pants from the anticipation. But...but then...HE jumped on the roof of the bus.

Det. Callaghan: And HE is?

LaFeye: You know damn well who I'm talking about! It was that bastard Warrior! It could see his armbands, his unhealthy and greasy hair, his ridiculous facepaint on his bone white face.

Det. Callaghan: Hm...so he was looking pale that evening?

LaFeye: That's not what I meant. He face was literally made of bone! I could see his teeth and everything. It's disgusting!

Det. Callaghan: (So this one seems to have seen the skull face at least.)

LaFeye: I saw him punch through that bus like it was a paper bag. And after he killed the driver, the bus drove off into a pile of explosives, and...ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

LaFeye begins to sob uncontrollably while Callaghan tries his best to console him without having to actually touch him.

LaFeye: That's not all. Afterwards, I was in such shock all I could go was stare at the flaming wreckage. That's when I saw HIM run out of the flames! It was Warrior! He ran off into the city like a bat out of hell! And that was it.

Det. Callaghan: Out of curiosity, have you ever met Warrior before?

LaFeye: Why would I have met him?

Det. Callaghan: Well, you were both staying in Kansas City at the same time. You could have ran into each other.

LaFeye: It's a big city. I never met him. I have seen him on television, though.

Det. Callaghan: If you did run into him, you'd remember it.

LaFeye: Of course! Look how terrible his fashion sense is! Not to mention his face!

Det. Callaghan: Not to mention your life choice.

LaFeye: Huh?

Det. Callaghan: It's well known that Warrior hates gays more than anything in the world. He even named his boy Queerbasher and together tried to kill all gays in the world. That must make you awful sore, huh?

LaFeye: I...I guess it would.

Det. Callaghan: And if he were, say, run into you on the streets of Kansas City, he would probably beat you up or humiliate you, right?

LaFeye: May...maybe he would. But we never met.

Det. Callaghan: Somehow I doubt that. You seem to be a man who prides himself on a perfect appearance. However, I can see that you have several bruises on your chest. Where did you get them?

LaFeye: Well, I already told you that I met someone and we had some...fun...

Det. Callaghan: And what of your head? I can still smell the faint scent of shit. Did your new boy toy crap on you too?

LaFeye: Yes, that's right. What's wrong with liking to have your face shat on?

Det. Callaghan: (Um, a lot actually. That's besides the point here, though.) Except that you referred to this person as a "whiny faggot" and that he would only play "catcher". Now, if that was the case then why were YOU the one who got beat up and shat on?!

LaFeye: !!! I...well...

Det. Callaghan: I think that Warrior beat you up and shat on your face when he saw what a priss you were! And so now you're getting your revenge on him by lying about what you saw!

LaFeye begins to cry and gyrate around.

LaFeye: Noooo, I'm not lying! I saw him on the bus! He killed them!

Det. Callaghan: And then he ran out of the flames and into the city?

LaFeye: Y...yes!

Det. Callaghan: I saw Warrior just an hour ago. HE DIDN'T HAVE A SINGLE BURN MARK ON HIM!

LaFeye practically swoons and looks like he's about to die.

LaFeye: NOOOOOOOO!! Don't let him get away! I saw him! He came out of the fire!

???: I saw him come through the flames too!

LaFeye: !!!

Det. Callaghan: !!!

!!!

Harriet: That's right! I forgot to tell you before but after the bus crashed, I remember seeing one last thing before passing out. It was a pair of fiery red eyes and that Warrior symbol on his face. They jumped out of the flames and ran right at me! The last image I remember before blanking out was of those eyes and symbol on a ghostly white skull. I...I can still see it now!

LaFeye: See?! She agrees with me! Now you know the truth!

Det. Callaghan: Yes, I do know the truth. IT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN WARRIOR!

Harriet & LaFeye: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Det. Callaghan: You both remember seeing the Warrior symbol and skull coming out of the flames. However, Warrior hasn't been burned in the least! That can only mean that he didn't do it!

Having just finished his coffee break, Det. Ingretard returns to the scene.

Det. Ingretard: How did things go?

Det. Callaghan: Great! With their testimony, I can prove that Warrior wasn't the one who did the crime!

Det. Ingretard: Huh? Then what about the Warrior-shaped hole? And who else would have had that paint? And why the explosives?

Det. Callaghan: I don't know yet.

Det. Ingretard: Well, it'll look bad if I don't have a suspect in jail, so I'm not releasing Warrior until you get more evidence or find the real killer! That's how things work in Kansas City!

As retarded as that concept is, Callaghan has no choice but to return to his car and continue investigating. Maybe the hotel room has some clues. And he still needs access to the scene of the crime. Also, why kill those gay guys? Or frame Warrior?

[Spamdini]

A lone car whizzes down the mostly empty streets of Kansas City. The Chiefs that train here are banned from using any vehicle that isn’t their own two feet, and the city’s economy doesn’t exactly run on anything but a training ground for fighters and soldiers. Therefore, Jake Callaghan has little to worry about in the ways of other drivers. This allows his mind to wander as his considers the case so far.

Det. Callaghan: (Two witnesses, each one with a mostly similar account of what happened last night. However, if what they’re telling is the truth, then Warrior can’t be the killer. I’ve got to find some conclusive evidence to exonerate him and figure out who really did it. I can’t waste time here. I’ve gotta complete this mission in less than two weeks.)

He rounds the corner as he drives towards the Rock n’ Rape Hotel that Warrior was staying at.

Det. Callaghan: (So far, I’ve only got a couple of leads to work on. As for the real killer, I wonder. Both Mrs. Cotchery and Mr. LaFeye were there at the time of the murder. Either one could have really committed the deed. Or both of them could have. But what would their motives be? And what if someone else dressed up as Warrior? Hopefully the hotel room will tell me something.)

May 29th, 9:15 AM
Rock n’ Rape Hotel – Front Desk

Upon his arrival, a front desk clerk sits at his post, sleeping. Det. Callaghan rings the bell at the desk in order to wake him.

Clerk: *wakes up* Mrr…huh?

Det. Callaghan: Hello, my name is Detective Jake Callaghan. Could you please tell me which room Warrior was staying in.

Clerk: Zzzzz…*wakes up* Huh? Oh, yeah, room 1056. The room should be open. I think…zzzz…

Det. Callaghan: You think what?

Clerk: Zzzz…*wakes up* Oh, I think that the night clerk should be there giving a statement to the police. He’ll let you in.

With that, the day clerk falls asleep again.

Det. Callaghan: (Real tight ship…)

He makes his way up to the 10th floor where a police officer is writing down everything a very perky and jittery is telling him.

???: AndsoIsaidtothemanagerthatwedon’treallyneedtoputcamerasinthelobbytokeepoutthievesaslongasI’maroundbecauseI’mwaybetterthananycamera
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Det. Callaghan: Erm, excuse me.

???: OhhelloIdidn’tseeyoutherehow’sitgoing?

Det. Callaghan: I’m, uh, fine. Are you the night clerk?

Night clerk: That’srightIwasherelastnightjustlikeI’mhereeverynightexceptMondaynightbecauseItakeMondaysoffit’shardtoworksevendaysaweekyouknoweven
ifIonlysleepbetweennoonand3:00PmsoIhaveplentyoffreetimeusually!

Det. Callaghan: (So the day clerk can barely stay awake and the night one looks like he could run a marathon and have enough energy left to power this whole building…) Can you tell me a bit about the night of the murder?

Night clerk: Surething! WellIwasatmypostfrom11:00PMtill9:00AManddidn’tseeasinglepersonthatentiretimeexceptforonecreepylittleguywhocameinandtriedmasturbatinginthelobby
butIscaredhimoffbythreanteningtobeattheshitoutofhimthatdamnlittlepunkheshouldlearnsomemanners!!

Det. Callaghan: (I have no idea what he just said, but I get the impression that he didn’t see Warrior at all.) Is it possible someone snuck by at any point?

Night clerk: NowayIhaveeyeslikeaneagleandabladderlikeacamelsoIdidn’tleavemyspotthewholetenhoursnoonegotinorout!

Det. Callaghan: Hm, so it’s impossible for Warrior to made his way out of the building without you knowing, then?

Night clerk: That’swhatIthoughtsincealltheemergencyexitshavebeensealedoffsothatnoonecantrytopullafastoneonme!

Det. Callaghan: (That really doesn’t sound safe in the least. Remind me to find another hotel to stay in if I ever have to sleep in Kansas City.) Then Warrior must have been in his room all night.

Night clerk: Exceptthere’sagiantholeinhiswallwhichIsureasheckknowitshouldn’tbetherebecauseourwalls
don’thaveholesbutloandbeholdthere’saholeinthiswallit’ssuperweird!

Det. Callaghan: Well, thank you for your time.

With that, he walks into the room and examines the evidence. Suitcases are flipped upside down and all the furniture has either been destroyed or set up in order to be bench-pressed, including the bed. In the wall is, as Det. Ingretard described, a Warrior-shaped hole. However, something else is very obvious as well. The drop is ten whole stories!

Det. Callaghan: They expected Warrior to survive that kind of fall? Get real! He couldn’t have gotten out through here!

Police officer: Yes, but there’s one crucial piece of evidence that implicates that he could have gotten down unharmed!

Det. Callaghan: Oh?

Police officer: On the ground below, we found a large white sheet. If you’ll notice the bed, you’ll see that there’s no sheet on it. We think Warrior used it like a parachute in order to slow his fall.

Det. Callaghan: (Damn, this doesn’t help me at all! I’ve gotta see that crime scene!) Officer, where’s police headquarters?

Police officer: I’ll draw it onto your city map, Detective Callaghan.

And with that, Jake Callaghan leaves the hotel and leaps back into his shoddy old car as he makes for the road again. If he can get the chief of police’s permission, he can check the flaming wreckage for clues. At this point, he doesn’t have much else to run on.

But as he flies down the street, two jeeps with machine gun turrets pull out from nowhere and start driving side-by-side with Callaghan’s Mustang! The dog detective reaches for his trusty revolver, expecting an ambush, but the drivers of the jeeps merely flag him over. Reluctantly, Callaghan chooses to pull over rather than risk a deadly confrontation. After all, he may have to wrestle in two weeks time.

Out of one of the jeeps comes a giant man wearing red and golden armor with a Mohawk made of knives. He casually motions Jake to roll down his window, to which he complies.

Det. Callaghan: There a problem?

???: You Detective Jake Callaghan?

Det. Callaghan: …Perhaps.

???: Please follow us. The chief wishes to have a few words with you.

Det. Callaghan: The chief?! (These guys don’t look like cops. I guess that means that they mean the Chief of the Chiefs. This could be helpful too.)

May 29th, 10:52 AM
Arrowhead Hell

After a lengthy drive, Detective Callaghan is brought to the training grounds of some of Nouveau-Richonia’s finest champions-to-be. The Spartan training includes having to suplex 500-pound dummies over a pit of vipers. If your form is off, you fall to a poisonous demise. There are others who are given jobbers and are forced to powerbomb their way out of steel cages before a trap door opens, causing the poor trainee to plummet onto a wide array of spikes and swords. It’s clear that FTUW fever is back.

Callaghan is led to an enormous ziggurat in the middle of the complex, which he is forced to climb in order to meet the Chief of the Chiefs. He’s *drumroll ready* DOG-TIRED when…

OBJECTION! WHAT A FUCKING AWFUL PUN! THE NARRATION MUST BE CHANGED IMMEDIATELY!

He’s very tired when he finally reaches the top and comes face-to-face with High Chief Priest Holmes. The chief rises from his throne and runs behind Det. Callaghan so quickly that he barely has the time to react.

Det. Callaghan: (Age and injuries haven’t slowed him down one bit!)

Holmes: Welcome, detective. I see that your trip to our lovely little town was not just a social one.

Det. Callaghan: That’s right. I need information from Warrior and he won’t give it to me unless I prove his innocence.

Holmes: Oh? And who says he’s innocent?

Det. Callaghan: He did. And the evidence is starting to point to that same conclusion!

Chief Holmes laughs and shakes his head.

Holmes: King von Toity must have a lot of trust in you to give you such an important mission. But this is Chiefs territory and we don’t much appreciate strangers coming in and making a fuss like this!

Det. Callaghan: !!

Holmes: Just give up the investigation. If you need to find out info, we’ll be happy to help. In the meantime, let our cops do their jobs. Oh, and if you ever need some ring training, don’t be afraid to stop on by.

Det. Callaghan: *slams his hand on a table* Why won’t you let me investigate?!

Holmes: I just told you why. This is our town! When King von Toity gave me the job of taking care of the operations of KC, he said that I wouldn’t have to answer to any uptight Branson fags! I’m the man who beat Larry Johnson in a 3000 mile race so I think that my skills and that of my officers should not be called into question!

Det. Callaghan: B…but…

Holmes: If Warrior’s innocent, then he’ll be released. But if you ask me, our streets are much safer without that whackjob threatening the lives of our women and children. Children are the future of America, you know.

Det. Callaghan: …

Holmes: You’re free to stay in town till the investigation’s over. I’ll call the Rock n’ Rape and tell them to give you a room on the house! Take the rest of the day to relax and enjoy the sights of beautiful Kansas City.

Callaghan grits his teeth and leaves Arrowhead Hell.

(What’s going on? Just when I thought I could get closer to the cause of all this insanity, I’ve just been driven back further. Why won’t he really let me investigate? How will I ever get to the crime scene? I can’t waste today! I’ve got to find out what Kenjiro’s been up to and every second counts!)

To be continued…

[Spamdini]

May 29th, 12:30 PM
Rock n' Rape Hotel

In spite of the recent orders (threats) of the Chief of Chiefs, Det. Callaghan knew he had to continue the investigation if he ever expected to have a chance of finding Kenjiro. He had to solve the murder case today! Unfortunately, with no other leads to work on and still no access to the crime scene, all he could do was return to the hotel where Warrior had been staying. After a thorough examination of the room and the ground where Warrior had supposedly jumped out, he still couldn't find anything that would contradict the police's theory. Even if Warrior didn't do it, then who made the hole?

Then it dawns on him! He needs to speak to the day desk clerk! After a great deal of scurrying around, he finds the lazy asshole passed out in the break room rather than being at his post.

Day clerk: Zzzz...*wakes up* Huh? Oh, it's you again. Need a room?

Det. Callaghan: I need to know! Were you working here yesterday?

Day clerk: Well...um...*falls asleep for two seconds then wakes up again* Yeah, I was. I start at 9:00 AM and work till 11:00 PM. I'm there the whole day except for when I take my lunch break, which I'm doing now you know.

Det. Callaghan: Do you know if Warrior left his room yesterday?!

Day clerk: Well...I guess he did. He yelled at me at one point and said he had to step out because...um...something about the gods of combat.

Det. Callaghan: (Yeah, even I wouldn't remember Warrior's ramblings, let alone this space cadet.)

Day clerk: Don't remember when he got back. Had to, you know, be before 11:00PM. He called for a wake-up call at 11:00 just as I was leaving. It was definitely Warrior because he grabbed the phone cord and shook it repeatedly while stomping around. The whole place shook. It was...Zzzzz *wakes up*...freaky.

Det. Callaghan: Not to, uh, put down your observation skills, but is it possible someone went up to Warrior's room while he was away.

Day clerk: Zzzzzzz.

Det. Callaghan: I'll take that as a yes.

Night clerk: Heybuddywhat'supwhyyoubacksosoon?

Det. Callaghan: (God.) Oh, I was just asking a few questions. You see, I think the hole in the wall was made by someone other than Warrior.

Night clerk: GoshIdoubtitImeanwouldn'tWarriornoticeabigholeinhiswallwhenhecameback?

Det. Callaghan: I suppose you have a point there. Is Warrior a heavy sleeper?

Night clerk: OhisheeveronenightoneofthebuildingsnextdoorwasattackedbygoonsandgrenadeswentoffandeverythingbutWarriorsleptthroughthewholething!

Det. Callaghan: Interesting...

Night clerk: HedoessleepwalkthoughonceIheardhimdoingpush-upsat3:00AMandthewholefoundationofthebuildingshook.

Det. Callaghan: (Sleep workouts...what a monster...) Then what if someone snuck in while he was asleep?

Night clerk: Nowayhephonedforawkae-upcallrequestat11:00PMandthat'swhenIgotthereandnoonegetsbyme!

Det. Callaghan: About that, are you SURE no one got past you past night?

Night clerk: SureI'msure!

Det. Callaghan: What about that little twerp you said was masturbating in the lobby?

Night clerk: Yeahitwasabout12:30thatfruitylittleshitwhatthehellwashethinkingIbroughthimtothebackandgavehimwhat'swhatbutheseemedtolikeitsoIleftindisgust.

Det. Callaghan: While you were beating him up, *slams desk* couldn't someone have snuck their way into the building?!

Night clerk: !!!

Det. Callaghan: Well?!

Night clerk: I...guess...they...could...have...

Det. Callaghan: (Slow or fast, make up your mind...)

Night clerk: ButIwas onlyawayfortwominutesmaxthat'snotenoughtimetogettothe10thfloormakeaholeandleave.

Det. Callaghan: Damn...a dead-end again.

Without any clues left to run on, Callaghan decides he should give talking to Warrior another shot. Maybe he'll give him the information he needs after he hears how hard he worked to prove him innocent. On his way to his car, which he had to park several blocks away, he notices a pair of deep footprints in the soil a block from the hotel. The imprint says size 18. That's a big shoesize.

May 29th, 1:14 PM
KCPD 1st precinct, Detention Center

Warrior appears before him once again, foaming rabidly at the mouth.

Warrior: WHY AM I STILL IN JAIL YOU HAIRY QUEER?!

Det. Callaghan: (So much for getting him to give me info.) I’m working on it. But the case against you is pretty bad. So far though, I still have one piece of evidence that works in your favor. The eyewitnesses both say they saw you emerge from the flaming wreckage, even though you’re completely unharmed.

Warrior: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Warrior vibrates his muscles to quickly that the friction causes him to burst into flames! A guard notices this and quickly puts him out with a bucket of water. It is then that Detective Callaghan notices that there isn’t a single burn on his body!

Warrior: Don’t worry about me. My extreme training has made me immune to fire!

Det. Callaghan: (And so the one glimmer of light fades away…) Warrior, tell me everything you did yesterday.

Warrior: I had a meeting with the Chiefs from 5 till 9 PM. I got back to my hotel at about 10:00 and did spirit training by FIGHTING SPIRITS WITH MY SOUL for an hour, then I went to bed at about 11:00. I phoned the front desk and told those cunts to wake me at 6 AM. That’s it. I didn’t leave my room after 10:00 PM.

Det. Callaghan: Uh, this may sound stupid but was there a hole in the wall of your room?

Warrior: What?! Hell no! Warrior needs walls of integrity in order to achieve Warriorness! Shut up you stupid retard!

Det. Callaghan: Great…

Warrior: Though now that you mention it, there was a big hole in my wall when the cops busted in my room to arrest me at about 6:00AM this morning. I figured that they bust in to capture me but NO ONE BUSTS IN ON WARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIOR!

Det. Callaghan: (If I get him any more agitated, the guards are going to blow him away. I’d better leave him be for now.)

With his mind struggling to find the key to this mystery, Jake Callaghan solemnly walks down the hallway connecting the detention center to the cop station. In the hall, he runs across Detective Ingretard.

Det. Ingretard: Hey pup! I got you some biscuits! They’ve got healthy stuff that’ll help you think! Maybe that’ll help you figure stuff out, maybe.

Det. Callaghan: Thanks detective, but I think it’s all over. There’s no more hope in this case.

And it is then that Detective Ingretard realizes the true sorrow of being a dog detective.

Det. Ingretard: Ok, pup! I’m gonna help you! Let’s go see the chief of police!

Det. Callaghan: !!! R…really?!

Det. Ingretard: If we can convince him that Warrior is innocent, then maybe he’ll let you visit the crime scene!

Det. Callaghan: Gosh detective…thank you!!

Together, they enter the chief’s office.

Det. Ingretard: Chief Gantz! This is Detective Jake Callaghan from the Branson PD.

The chief, of course, is a big black ball with a computer display on the front.

Chief Gantz: lol h1 d099y w4nn4 c00k13 rofl

Det. Ingretard: Chief, can he visit the crime scene?

Chief Gantz: k.

Det. Ingretard: Yay!

Det. Callaghan: (Huh?! That’s it?!)

With the blessing of the chief, Callaghan heads for the exit. On his way out, a poster catches his eye on the Kansas City events bulletin board. There, he sees a flyer for the Lovely Gay Bus Ride of Gayness tour, arriving in Branson on the 30th of May for three whole days of gayness!

Det. Callaghan: I know Warrior didn’t kill them. But if the crime scene doesn’t yield anything, then it’s really all over.

A couple flyers over is the very same ad for the tour.

Det. Callaghan: Man, they really have wanted people to see this. I didn’t even know there were any gays left in Kansas.

That’s when Callaghan notices something about the second poster. It is so shocking that he rips the poster off the board so he can read it more carefully.

Det. Callaghan: Wait a second! This…this…THIS IS IT! I’VE GOT IT NOW!

Taking both flyers with him, Callaghan rushes to his car and speeds off to the crime scene.

May 29th, 2:30 PM
Outskirts of Kansas City

Using his doggy digging skills, Detective Callaghan rummages through the now cool pile of scrap and rubble. The clue he needs must be in here! He didn’t know what to look for but if his hunch is right, then this could be the turning point of the entire case! And then he finds it! A skull belonging to one of the victims!

Det. Callaghan: This skull. Look at the size of it! I knew it! So the real murderer must be…

To be concluded…

[Vinny]

That was fantastic.

[Spamdini]

Here are profiles of characters thus far. Which one of them did it?!

Detective Fuck Ingretard
Age: 34
A Kansas City detective who is quite dim, but essentially a decent guy. He's both helped and hindered Jake along the way. His family loves dogs, but Jake does not share the feeling.

Warrior
Age: ??
FTUW announcer and former wrestler. Arrested for the murder of the 30 people who were killed when the bus exploded. Insane and enraged, but claims to be innocent.

Harriet Cotchery
Age: 36
Head of the Kansas City Woman Warriors and a huge slut. An eyewitness to the crime.

Antoine LaFeye
Age: 28
A homosexual who was in town waiting for his butt buddies. Extremely effeminate and disturbing. Another eyewitness to the crime.

Hotel daytime desk clerk
Age: 23
Works at the Rock 'n Rape Hotel where Warrior was staying. Can barely stay awake at any time of day. Remembers Warrior leaving the hotel and that he placed a call to the front desk at 11:00 PM.

Hotel nighttime desk clerk
Age: 41
Hyperactive graveyard shift employee at the Rock 'n Rape Hotel. Seems inexhaustible and hard to understand due to his rambling manner of speech. Was at the hotel the night of the murder, but doesn't remember Warrior leaving.

High Chief Priest Holmes
Age: 33
Ex-NFL running back who is now the leader of the Kansas City Chiefs training force. He sitll exhibits incredible running speed. Cherishes law and order in his town and respects his team above all else. Does not appreciate outsiders.

Police Chief Gantz
Age: ???
why j00 a1w4y5 dy1ng kato-cha lol

[Mautty]

Larry Johnson should come in and take Priest Holmes job when everyone see's how Much better he is than Prest. Then he can blame it on Being not 100%.

[Spamdini]

May 29th, 4:00 PM
Outskirts of Kansas City

Callaghan lights up a cigarette as he counts off heads. It seems as if every single person involved in the case is here, so he can finally begin to unveil the results of his investigation.

Priest Holmes: What the hell is this, Callaghan? I told you to stay the hell out of the case!

Det. Callaghan: In a moment. In a few short moments, I'll reveal the name of the MURDERER!

Everyone: !!!

Det. Callaghan: Let's start off with who it absolutely cannot be. I know it couldn't have been the hotel night clerk. I talked to several guests at the hotel who were drinking at the bar downstairs and they all remember seeing him there when they'd pass by to use the bathroom.

Night clerk: OhmygodIdidn'tevenknowIwasasuspectthisissoexciting!

Det. Callaghan: It couldn't have been the day clerk either, seeing as how he can barely stay awake for his shift during the day. Somehow, I don't see him having the energy to pull off this type of crime at night.

Day clerk: Zzzzz...

Det. Callaghan: It couldn't have been Detective Ingretard either. He's an imbecile, but essentially good-natured. One of the few good cops I've known in my years on the force. Even if that's a cover, he wouldn't have the brains to frame Warrior.

Det. Ingretard: Phew! I thought I was in trouble for a second!

Det. Callaghan: It couldn't have been Chief Gantz either, because he's a big black ball.

Chief Gantz: stfu d0g!

Det. Callaghan: That leaves three people. Mrs. Cotchery, Mr. LaFeye and High Chief Holmes. It had to have been one of you three!

Everyone: !!!

Det. Callaghan: I have a way that we can narrow it down to two, though.

With that, the detective goes to his car and comes back with a small child.

Det. Callaghan: Whoever can kill this kid is NOT the murderer!

Everyone: !!!

Mrs. Cotchery: How...how does that even make sense?!

Det. Callaghan: I have my reasons, and they're directly linked to this case. He's an orphan so you'd just be putting him out of his misery.

Mrs. Cotchery: I’m not killing a child for you, Mr. Callaghan!

LeFeye: N…neither am I!

Holmes: You pussies! You’d never be Chiefs! Watch this!

With that, High Chief Holmes grabs the child and lifts him up by the neck. He pulls his fist back and readies himself for the blow. However, the child’s eyes begin to well up with tears and Holmes hesitates.

Det. Callaghan: So are you innocent or not, Chief Holmes?

Holmes grits his teeth as his fist trembles. He pulls it back further and fires! The fist leaves a giant hole in the ground below as he punches the ground of his rage. The child, however, is unharmed.

Holmes: Fuck you! I don’t need your little game to prove my innocence!

Det. Callaghan: Oh, but I did need you to do this! That's because you’ve proven your own words to be true!

Everyone: !?!

Det. Callaghan: First off, I’d like to thank my little friend here for his cooperation. Take care of yourself, ok?

The child dusts himself off and walks away. He isn’t a child at all, though! He’s the black midget from Bad Santa! The midget climbs into a van filled with black chicks with huge asses and fucks them while slapping their titties as they drive off.

Det. Callaghan: As I was saying, now I know that what you said earlier today wasn’t just an act. Do you remember what you told me?

*flashback*

Flashback Holmes: But if you ask me, our streets are much safer without that whackjob threatening the lives of our women and children. Children are the future of America, you know.

*end flashback*

Det. Callaghan: Now I know that in spite of your tough exterior, you actually do have a soft spot for children. You would never imagine killing one. If you could, then you would have done it right now to prove your innocence. I was pretty confident of who the real murderer was, but now I’m 100% sure. The murderer is…

Close-up of Cotchery’s eyes

Close-up of LaFeye’s eyes

Close-up of Holmes’ eyes

Close-up of everyone else’s eyes

Detective Callaghan slams his hands on a desk.

Det. Callaghan: IT WAS ANTOINE LAFEYE!

Everyone: !!!!!!!!!!!

LaFeye: W…WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!

Det. Ingretard: The witness to the crime? But didn’t he have the same story as Mrs. Cotchery?

Det. Callaghan: He did, except for one very important point. ONLY HE SAW WARRIOR’S SKULL AS HE WAS ON TOP OF THE BUS!

LaFeye: Th…that just makes me more credible! Warrior does have a skull for a face! It’s Mrs. Cotchery that’s suspicious!

Det. Callaghan: Ah, but that’s only because the person she saw on the bus wasn’t really Warrior. It was you!

LaFeye: !!!

Det. Callaghan: Allow me to begin explaining. You said that you came to Branson on your own, not wanting to wait for your fellow gays. That struck me as rather foolhardy at the time. Gays are not exactly well received and someone as flamboyant as yourself would likely be lynched, even in a fairly lawful place such as Nouveau-Richonia. The only way you could travel with confidence is if you were quite powerful yourself. What was it you said earlier?

*flashback*

Flashback LaFeye: Ooooh ho ho ho! You look skeptical, detective. Believe me, we're a lot tougher than we look!

*end flashback*

Det. Callaghan: From that, I can assume you were the only one tough enough to attack the bus and pierce the roof with your own strength, with the exception of Mr. Holmes of course! Now, you knew that the Ultimate Warrior was in town due to your earlier altercation with him. And by altercation, I mean when he beat you up and shat on your face.

LaFeye: Grrrr! That…

Det. Callaghan: That is when you knew he’d be the perfect patsy for your crime! The night of the murder, you knew exactly what time that bus would arrive, so you sat and waited. You painted yourself up and dressed in Warrior’s costume and waited while you carefully destroyed his alibi so that further suspicion would be placed upon him.

Det. Ingretard: Huh? What do you mean by that?

Det. Callaghan: The night clerk told me that a creepy little guy came into the hotel and begun masturbating. When he beat the guy up, the little creep enjoyed it. That reminded me of something.

*flashback*

Flashback LaFeye: KC was lame though. All I met was one little whiny faggot who would only be the catcher. That's not my style!

*end flashback*

Det. Callaghan: Though you didn’t want to pork the little fruit, you saw an opportunity in him and convinced him to distract the hawkeyed night clerk. By doing so, you’d create a window of opportunity for Warrior to leave the hotel and commit the crime. And so you went through with your plan. After having carefully laid out explosives on the side of the road, you leapt on the hood of the bus and punched through. I found a rather large hammer among the scrap, which might have helped with that. Then you drove the bus into the explosives and leapt out before the bus collided with them and was destroyed. THAT is how you did it!

LaFeye: You…you stupid mongrel! I would have never such a thing! Besides, don’t you remember what both Mrs. Cotchery and I said?

*flashback*

Flashback LaFeye: That's when I saw HIM run out of the flames! It was Warrior!

Flashback Mrs. Cotchery: That's right! I forgot to tell you before but after the bus crashed, I remember seeing one last thing before passing out. It was a pair of fiery red eyes and that Warrior symbol on his face. They jumped out of the flames and ran right at me!

*end flashback*

LaFeye: As you can tell, I’m not burned in the least! I couldn’t have done that! And what about the Warrior-shaped hole in the wall? Are you saying I made that too? I couldn’t have had the time to do that and commit the crime! You’re full of shit!

Det. Callaghan: Yes, you’re right. You didn’t jump out of the flames and you didn’t make that hole. Warrior did!

LaFaye: T…that’s right!

Det. Callaghan: But you still committed the crime! Let me explain! Warrior has a bad habit of sleep-workouts.

*Flashback*

Flashback night clerk: HedoessleepwalkthoughonceIheardhimdoingpush-upsat3:00AMandthewholefoundationofthebuildingshook.

*end flashback*

Det. Callaghan: In his sleep, Warrior dove through the wall on a sleep jog. Normally, I’m sure it would have killed him, but he happened to be tangled in his bed sheet. The sheet acted like a parachute and he floated down a block or so before he thought the sheet was a villainous soul and attacked it.

*flashback*

Flashback Warrior: I got back to my hotel at about 10:00 and did spirit training by FIGHTING SPIRITS WITH MY SOUL for an hour, then I went to bed at about 11:00.

*end flashback*

Det. Callaghan: As such, the sheet was punched all the way back to the hotel and it looked like someone deliberately used it as a parachute. However, the footprints I found far from the hotel help corroborate my version of the events of the night. After his sleeprun, he scaled the wall of the hotel and climbed back into bed, not remembering a single thing.

LaFeye: R…ridiculous! So you’re saying that I did the crime and that the real Warrior happened to be passing by?

Det. Callaghan: Well, Warrior has demonstrated that he’s the only person capable of being immune to fire, and Mrs. Cotchery only remembers a skull face coming out of the fire, not on top of the bus. My conclusion is that there were two different people that night!

LaFeye: That’s all very entertaining except for one little thing: Motive! Why would I have killed a bus full of my friends and lovers?!

Det. Callaghan: Heh, that’s simple! They weren’t your friends or lovers! Heck, they weren’t gays at all!

LaFeye: !!!

Det. Callaghan: May I bring these two flyers to everyone’s attention!

Everyone looks at the two flyers that Callaghan took from the police bulletin board.

Det. Ingretard: Hey, I recognize those! They’re ads for that gay bus ride thing!

Det. Callaghan: Yes, but take a look at this one detective. What does it say?

Det. Ingretard: “Lovely Gay Bus Ride of Gayness tour, arriving in Branson on the 30th of May for three whole days of gayness!” So?

Det. Callaghan: What day is today?

Det. Ingretard: Um…it’s the…I dunno.

LaFeye: !!!

Det. Callaghan: Erm…well I’ll tell you then. Today is the 29th of May!

Det. Ingretard: Wow, they must have made good time on the highway!

Det. Callaghan: Detective, how would the murderer have known that the bus was coming a day early?

Det. Ingretard: Uh…I dunno. Sounds impossible.

Det. Callaghan: Exactly! Another reason why Warrior couldn’t have been waiting for the gay bus ride! It wasn’t supposed to come for one more day! Will everyone look at this second poster?

Everyone looks at the second poster.

Det. Ingretard: Looks the same. Oh, it says the 29th of May! Is that what I'm suuposed to see?

Det. Callaghan: That’s half of it. But look more carefully.

Mrs. Cotchery: Wait, this looks familiar somehow…WAIT!!!

Det. Callaghan: You’ve caught on! This one doesn’t say Lovely Gay Bus Ride! It says Children’s Play Bus Ride! It’s an ad for a bus with children traveling around Nouveau-Richonia on a cultural trip!

LaFeye: K…kek…

Det. Callaghan: At first, I thought they were the same thing. But then I realized that the Children’s Play Bus Ride just used the same picture and writing and just replaced the words Lovely Gay with Children’s Play! Obviously a cost-cutting measure by von Toity or some other penny pincher. Mr. LaFeye, you said you had come into town several days ago. I’m guessing you saw the posters at some point. You must have been quite offended that a bunch of children would try and usurp your people’s culture with this cheap knockoff tour. And so you decided two kill two birds with one stone by offing these copycats and framing the man who derides gays everywhere and humiliated you! You knew when the bus was coming, you knew that it would look like the gay bus and take heat off of you, especially when you spray-painted the wreckage to say “gay bus” instead of “play bus”, you had the motive, the means and were linked to the person who broke Warrior’s alibi. WHO COULD HAVE DONE IT BUT YOU?!

LaFeye is livid at this point. The sweat is gushing out of his pores like tap water and his neatly coiffed hair is drooping straight down. His gaze is one of pure hatred and his lanky body is beginning to swell and veins pop out all over.

LaFeye: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! You just assume it had to be the queer who would kill the children! This is bullshit! Either Mrs. Cotchery or Chief Holmes had the ability to do so and was there at the time! You can’t prove that I did it and that Warrior didn’t!

Det. Callaghan: Oh, but I can! Mrs. Cotchery is a woman. She lacked the strength to puncture the roof of the vehicle. Not only that, but as a woman she is incapable of killing children other than her own. As for Chief Holmes, my little experiment from earlier proved that he is incapable of bringing harm to children. So I ask you…

Slams a desk.

Det. Callaghan: WHO ELSE COULD HAVE KILLED A BUS LOAD OF CHILDREN OTHER THAN A SICK INTOLERANT QUEER?!

Flashbacks to committing the crime flicker through LaFeye’s head. He continues sweating as his muscles continue to bulge and swell, making the ground as wet as it would be if it had just rained. Finally, he snaps and carves “I KILLED 30 CHILDREN!” into his chest with his fingernails. At this point, he has gone from an effeminate poof to as muscular and insane looking as any goon lord.

LaFeye: GRAAAAAAAAAAH! KILL YOUUUUUUUU!!

LaFeye makes a charge at Callaghan for foiling his perfect plan. However, the detective is too sly and swift for that!

Det. Callaghan: RAISE THE WOOF!

Using his nose, Callaghan flips the charging LaFeye into the air and his own momentum carries him over the horizon and beyond.

Det. Callaghan: Whatever punishment he receives is too little.

In the meantime, Black Judge is fighting his way out of Dr. Schmitt’s lab when suddenly LaFeye falls right in front of his face. The criminal, barely alive from the crash, weakly gets to his knees and looks up. The words “I KILLED 30 CHILDREN!” are still clear on his chest.

Black Judge: Guess this one’s a gift!

With that, the Black Judge smashes LaFeye into a liquid stew with his gavel.

May 30th, 8:00 AM
Outskirts of Kansas City

Det. Callaghan finishes his cigarette and puts it out. Detective Ingretard, Chief Holmes and Warrior are all with him to say their goodbyes.

Det. Ingretard: Gosh pup, couldn’t you stay a while longer? My kids really wanna play ball with you.

Det. Callaghan: Got places to be. Warrior’s info doesn’t give me much to work on, but it’s a start.

Warrior: Kenjiro and Prometheus Jones were quite the pair. I’m sure he followed him to Blackland. You’ll at least be able to find more info there. You have the notes on all the techniques he used on me?

Det. Callaghan: This Shippuken stuff doesn’t sound like child’s play, but I’ll manage.

Holmes: Callaghan!

Det. Callaghan: Yes?

Holmes: I…I’m sorry about how I treated you. I just don’t trust outsiders, y’know. Come back any time if you need to train or just need a place to stay!

Det. Callaghan: Hm…maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.

Warrior: You may not be white or Christian or human, but you’ve earned my respect detective.

Surprised by the uncharacteristic praise he received by Warrior, Jake Callaghan lets that be the last thing he hears in Kansas City and hits the road again. Destination: Blackland!

May 30th, 8:15 AM
Outskirts of Kansas City

The real Gay Bus Ride drives by as the passengers sing songs to pass the time. Warrior runs out of nowhere and gorilla presses the bus into a ravine full of abortionists. Everything explodes.

Warrior: QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERS!

[Action Hank]

VERDICT: AWESOME

[Spamdini]

June 1st, 1:00 PM
Blackland border

It's early afternoon before Blackland appears on Jake's horizon. Tall ebony walls grow ever larger as he approaches them until they almost blot out the sun. Still, his resolve remains intact. He worked too hard and there's too much riding on what he finds here. The answer to Kenjiro's location could very well lie within these walls in the mind of a certain man. Prometheus Jones.

As soon as he exits his car, Callaghan is greeted almost instantly by a wave of African-American goons. They stand arrogantly, adjusting their cornrows and bling or just sneering. One of them, wearing an open leather vest with nothing underneath, walks forward and confronts the detective.

"Who in the FUCK are you, boy?" he asks without the slightest hint of courtesy.

"My name is Detective Jake Callaghan. I have come from Nouveau-Richonia in order to have a few words with Prometheus Jones."

The head gangtsa sneers, adjusting the toothpick that is unnecessarily in his mouth and stroking the band-aid on his cheek that is covering an imaginary wound. "Hear that, brothas? This guy comes all the way from fucking Nouveau-Richonia and wants to see Prometheus!"

The others all laugh evilly, except for one small, skinny guy whose laugh is high-pitched and caps it off with "Oh shiiiiiiiiiiit!"

"Ya can't see him, BOY!" says the goon, getting up in Jake's face. "So how about you take that shitbox you call a car and turn right the fuck around before things get ugly?!"

Before the situation can escalate, however, a shadow begins to grow above them. All eyes turn up as a man crashes down in between the blacks and Callaghan. The man is African-American, hair cut short and respectably, wearing traditional African clothing and shades. Callaghan approaches this man immediately and extend a paw.

“How’s it going, friend?” he asks to newcomer.

“Heh, welcome to Blackland my nigga! How come it took you so long to visit?”

“You must know how busy things can get when law and order has to be kept, Kareem.”

The newcomer sighs and shakes his head. “Still at the beck and call of the white man’s justice eh? Man, when will you ever kick that jive shit and work towards the true embitterment of our brothas?”

The upstart from before walks between them and gets pissed. “Yo, you friends with this BOY? Ain’t he just some cracker cop from out in the rich lands? He ain’t got no place and you sure as hell got no reason to be callin’ him a fellow nigga, Kareem!”

The newcomer is Kareem Hareef Abdul Queeqwoo, born Herbert Jackson. He was Callaghan’s best friend in police training and became as tight as brothers. However, one day when he and Jake were starting as beat cops, he witnessed two white cops murder a black drug dealer and steal his money. For some reason, this caused Herbert to go crazy and become a radical Muslim. Still, he and Jake remained friends throughout the years up until the apocalypse.

“Don’t you know anything,” Jake calmly states as he lights up a cigarette. “I’m a Rhodesian Ridgeback, an African hunting dog. I have as much black blood in me as you ‘homeboys’ do. Kareem, I’d love to chat, but we can do that later. For now, it’s important that I see Prometheus ASAP.”

“Heh, you sure don’t waste time. Well, we’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us so we can walk down memory lane along the way. Hey you nigga-wannabe slackers, get outta the way and get back to work!”

All of the cackling gangstas immediately fall into line, except for open-vest. “Yes sir!” they shout in unison.

June 1st, 4:04 PM
Booker T. Washington, D.C., city hall

Prometheus sits on his chair in his office. After Jake explained his mission and what Kenjiro has done and will do, he sits pensively in his chair and mulls over what he had just heard.

“So you’re saying that Kenjiro has become a terrorist?” Prometheus says in a low, almost enchanting manner.

”It is possible sir. I was hoping if you could help me find him so we can get to the bottom of this.”

Prometheus gets up and lights a cigar. His snow-white hair is reflected by the sunlight streaming in the room as he stares out the window in deep thought.

“This doesn’t sound right. The punk was a little wacky, I know that. But I think you’re getting yanked around here.”

”Perhaps, perhaps not. A man can be driven to act against his character under the right circumstances.” Jake thinks back to his dead wife for a brief moment.

“Well” Prometheus says with a sigh, “there is little I can tell you. He has been gone for months. The only thing I know is that he left for the Den of the Demon Dogs about three months ago. He was in quite a rush too. Someone gave him news about a masked man ruling a gang there and he bolted like a bat out of hell. Don’t know what it was all about, but I’m sure it meant something to him.”

(Den of the Demon Dogs? Damn, I can’t be running around the country all the time! My time’s running out!)

“Isn’t there anything else you can tell me?”

Prometheus shrugs. “Haven’t seen him in three months. He did leave two things behind though. Here’s one of them.” From his desk, Prometheus pulls out a bandana with Japanese characters written on them. It clearly hasn’t been washed in some time either.

“Is this Kenjiro’s?”

“Yeah.”

(At least I can track him by scent now if need be.)

“The other item is on another floor. Lemme get it. Kareem, would you please go check up on the soldiers in the barracks in the meantime?”

“I dig, sir. Jake, wanna tag along?”

Callaghan shakes his head. “No, you go. I’ll wait here for the other item.

And so both Kareem and Prometheus leave. A couple of minutes pass as Callaghan busies himself by playing with a Rubik’s Cube in the office. It takes 30 seconds for him to complete it.

(Hm? What was that noise? Oh well, maybe it’s Prometheus coming back.)

THWACK!

Callaghan is clubbed over the head by a large heavy object! Everything goes black as he passes out. A deep laugh is the last thing he hears before losing consciousness.

[Spamdini]

Date: ???
Location: ???

Det. Callaghan: Uhn…my head…Where am I?

A bowl of food and a bowl of water sit on the floor ahead of him. Where is he? How many hours has he been out. He’s starving and doesn’t give the mush before him a second thought. A couple short minutes later, he finds himself passing out again.

Date: ???
Location: ???

Det. Callaghan: D…drugs in the food. Damn, I got careless. How much longer was I out? Where in the world am I? I can see light through the window, but it can’t be the same day as before. The sun was nearly setting when I ate the food. Damn, I could have been here for weeks. I feel stronger now than when he woke up starving and aching.

He parts the fur on his arm and notices needle marks.

Det. Callaghan: They’ve been keeping me fed and drugged through intravenous. But why? Who are my captors? I’ve got to escape!

Just then, the door swings open. The black loudmouth from before comes in with a few members of his posse. They’re all armed to the teeth, which eliminates any thought of a forced escape at this point. For the sake of simplicity, I’ll tell you that the uppity negro’s name is Tyrell.

Tyrell: Come with us, boy!

Det. Callaghan: This your way of proving you’re tougher than me?

Tyrell: Ain’t got nothin’ to do with personal shit. This is orders!

They lead Callaghan to a gladiator-like pit where seedy Blackland goons hoot and holler from the stands as they wash down deep-fried chicken wings with malt liquor and grape drink. Slightly confused, but remaining calm, Jake looks all around him as the hooting and hollering raises in volume. Tyrell, in a ringmaster-style outfit, addresses the crowd.

Tyrell: Let’s get the show on the road!

A tall, cocky black dude (for the sake of redundancy, everyone introduced is black unless otherwise noted) struts out of the gate and postures to the crowd.

Tyrell: Our first contestant is Bone Ripper!

Det. Callaghan: Bone Ripper? An interesting name. How did you get it?

Bone Ripper: Tsss, cuz I rip bones fool! Just like I’m gonna rip yours!

Det. Callaghan: Didn’t pay attention in biology class did you? Otherwise you’d know that you can rip a muscle, but not a bone! And believe me, I know bones.

Bone Ripper: Urk!

Det. Callaghan: So in other words, you’re just full of shit.

Bone Ripper: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Bone Ripper lunges right at Callaghan without any sense of style or technique. This is exactly what Jake wanted.

Det. Callaghan: RAISE THE WOOF!

Bone Ripper is flung high into the air by his own momentum. As he comes down, Det. Callaghan catches him and places him into a TORTURE RACK, bending him until his back breaks! The crowd is furious.

Tyrell: Don’t worry folks, this show can go all night! Up next is Jamal the Fearless!

Jamal is built like a truck and unlike Bone Ripper is completely stonefaced. This one looks like he’ll be harder to crack.

Det. Callaghan: So you’re fearless you say? Are you implying that you’ve never felt fear in your life before?

Jamal: That’s right.

Det. Callaghan: They say the most common fear in people is public speaking. You’d have no problem performing before a crowd.

Jamal: That’s what I’m doing now, isn’t it?

Det. Callaghan: Good point. Well, what about the second most common fear: Death! I’m sure you’ve feared death at some point in your life!

Jamal: I saw my brothers die before my very eyes, shot by drug dealers. I’ve lived with death all around me, even before the apocalypse. I assure you, death means nothing to me!

Det. Callaghan: Urk!

And with that, Jamal charges Callaghan head on. Caught off guard by the response he got, Callaghan isn’t able to avoid the massive kick that is thrown at him and is knocked into the arena wall. The crowd salivates as they anticipate the bloodshed that will occur. However, Callaghan’s resolve remains. He takes off his trench coat and stretches his muscles. Using dog-like speed, he runs circles around his opponent so quickly that he cannot be followed. Leaping from behind, Callaghan bites into Jamal’s neck and punctures the skin before being thrown off. Callaghan lands on his feet and smiles.

Det. Callaghan: (That gave me time to think of an answer!) Ok, I accept your claim that you’re not afraid of death.

Jamal: Good for you.

Det. Callaghan: In that case, I’ll concede total defeat and kill myself if you rip that wound I made on you wide open.

Jamal feels his wound and realizes that it’s dangerous close to carotid artery. If he rips too hard, he could make himself bleed to death!

Jamal: I…I…*sweats*

Det. Callaghan: What’s wrong? Are you afraid? What happened to Jamal the Fearless?

Jamal: I’m…fearless…I’m…GRAAAAAAAAAAAH FUCK YOU!

Jamal charges head on like Bone Ripper did earlier! This falls directly into the trap set as he too falls victim to Raise the Woof and a Torture Rack.

Time passes by. Over 20 corpses lie behind a bloodied and bruised Jake Callaghan, all of their backs broken. A shivering opponent stands before him.

Det. Callaghan: Huff huff…Willow? That name is just plain faggy!

Willow: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Willow’s back gets broke.

With so many deaths, the crowd is now silent as they begin to realize that this foreign detective might just make it out of here alive. Tyrell remains confident, however.

Tryell: Let’s congratulate this boy here! He’s down to his final opponent! If he wins this one, he gets to leave without being stuffed into a body bag! And his last opponent is…BRUTUS THE UNHEARING!

A 7 foot, 700 pound mound of hideousness waddles out the gate.

Det. Callaghan: Brutus, don’t pretend to now hear my comments. YOU KNOW WHAT I SAY IS THE TRUTH!

Brutus picks his nose.

Det. Callaghan: Um…you pick your nose. That’s a bad habit. Is that because…YOU LACK CONFIDENCE BECAUSE OF YOUR WEIGHT?!

Brutus farts.

Det. Callaghan: Er…so Brutus…uh…

Tyrell: Heh heh, give it up boy! No sense wasting your breath on a deaf man!

Det. Callaghan: (!!! Shit…)

Brutus charges.

To be continued…

[Spamdini]

Date: ???
Location: Some gladiator arena

Detective Jake Callaghan is in a pinch. After besting twenty-some-odd men with his patented Contradictions/Raise the Woof/Torture Rack combination, he has come across a behemoth who is not only powerful and gigantic, but deaf and thus immune to verbal attacks. Callaghan’s advantage when it came down to one-on-one confrontations was always in his ability to throw his opponent off guard with well-timed jabs at their personality or by destroying their confidence and self-identity through clever observations. This time, however, he is forced to rely on physical abilities alone. Unfortunately, the 700-pound creature proves to be a wee bit too much for the lithe, yet not terribly weighty pooch. Ten minutes into the scrap, Brutus is unharmed and Callaghan is badly wounded.

Det. Callaghan: (Dammit, nothing I say is worth anything! His blubber is too thick to bite through and any other attack bounces right off.)

Tyrell laughs niggishly.

Tyrell: Well folks, looks like his luck has just ran out! Brutus, finish the boy off!

Brutus cannot hear the command, but the body language speaks volumes and so he nods in acknowledgement. Jumping far higher than a man of his girth should be able to, he prepares to crash down upon his opponent and reduce him to a fine paste. Callaghan has enough energy and foresight to easily evade the move, but seeing the smoking crater that it creates, fears what will happen on subsequent attempts.

Det. Callaghan: Shit! I’m dead at this rate!

That’s when something catches his eye. The blubber of Brutus’s body wiggles like gelatin following the impact, creating waves normally reserved for beautiful ocean scenery.

Det. Callaghan: (The ocean…waves…WAVES! THAT’S IT!”)

Brutus stands up and scratches his ass as his grins in delight. Even a deaf man with as much gray matter and he has hearing knows that the fight is heavily in his favor and that it will be over soon. In spite of that, Det. Callaghan extends a paw before his opponent can jump again.

Det. Callaghan: HOLD IT!

Everyone in the arena stops saying anything and emotes exclamations points in shock.

Det. Callaghan: Brutus the Unhearing. Your name is far more accurate than any of the other jobbers I faced tonight. However, there is still a contradiction!

Brutus looks on cluelessly since he didn’t understand a word. As such, it is up to Tyrell to respond in his place.

Tyrell: Dammit boy, give up! Isn’t it obvious that he can’t understand a single word you’ll ever say?

Det. Callaghan: Oh? Maybe his ears don’t work, but that doesn’t mean sound isn’t able to penetrate his body!

With that, he cups his left paw around his mouth while anchoring his body to the ground with his right. It is then that he unleashes a mighty bark the likes that none in the arena have ever experienced, even from their pit bulls or from yapping toy dogs that said pit bulls eat for dinner. Unlike his other proclamations that he barked in authoritative fashion earlier so that the whole crowd could hear, there is a clear target in these. Not only is there more energy put into it, but it also is a focused attack straight at Brutus. The soundwaves collide with his lard-laden chest and send him flying back into the wall. Two things have happened to him for the first time in years.

1) Someone managed to knock him backwards

2) He heard something.

Brutus’ eardrums were gouged out years ago by a certain someone. Since then, he has been unable to pick up any sort of sound. Today though, he is certain that he heard a bark. Not that he heard it in the traditional sense, but there is a feeling in his bones that makes him sure that he experienced it as clear as anyone with normal aural abilities.

Det. Callaghan: Did you hear that Brutus? That’s the power of sound. That’s the power of logic. That’s the power…OF THE LAW!!!

Those last three words are also projected like a blast straight at Brutus the Unhearing. “OF THE LAW” rings throughout his body and he trains to regain control over his nervous system. Sadly, he is in too much shock to react.

Det. Callaghan: TAKE THAT!

The blast sends Brutus hovering in the air slightly.

Det. Callaghan: HOLD IT!

His body rises a little more.

Det. Callaghan: WOOF WOOF!

Brutus’s body is hovering several feet off the ground.

Det. Callaghan: IT’S OVER!

Brutus is high up in the air.

Det. Callaghan: YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!

Brutus is practically touching the ceiling of the domed structure they are in. Using the heads of onlookers in the crowd as springboards, Callaghan uses his doggy jumping prowess and leaps high up in the air and catches Brutus, putting him in the Torture Rack.

Tyrell: You fucked up, boy! You’ll never put that fatass in a Torture Rack and break his back! You’ll just get crushed by all his fat, you stupid little shit!

Det. Callaghan: Then…I’LL JUST HAVE TO THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!

With that, Callaghan flips upside-down so that Brutus is on the bottom while still in a Torture Rack. He places his nose up against Brutus’s spine while doing so.

Det. Callaghan: TORTURE DRIVER!

The detective and his victim fly downwards towards the arena floor where they collide with a great impact! His node pierces the spine and his whole head skewers Brutus’s body, tearing a gaping hole through the now deceased pile of blubber. All the previously cocky member of the crowd are defecating their underpants as we speak. Callaghan removes his head from the carcass and lights a cigarette.

Det. Callaghan: Anyone wanna go next?

In spite of the detective being near death, no one dares to take up the challenge. In fact, they all flee the arena, trampling slowpokes underfoot like so many Zambian soccer matches. Tyrell is the last one standing, mostly due to his trembling legs not wanting to listen to his brain’s instincts.

Det. Callaghan: Guess it’s just you and me, BOY!

Tyrell begins to scramble for his life when a large pumped up arm clotheslines him. That is when he notices that his entire mid-section has been destroyed and he’s just a disembodied head and limbs. The remains fall hilariously to the ground as Prometheus reduces his arm back to normal.

Prometheus: Thank god we found you! Kareem knew you wouldn’t leave without the evidence and I guess he was right to show concern.

Det. Callaghan: W…what day is it?

Prometheus: It’s the 7th of June.

Det. Callaghan: Still…got three days.

Prometheus just shakes his head.

Prometheus: You’re badly wounded and completely exhausted at this point. I’d say it’ll take at least three days before you’re even close to being in fighting shape. That’s only just in time for Murdergeddon.

Det. Callaghan: So…I’ve failed my mission.

The detective sulks upon hearing this news. Even though he seems inconsolable, Prometheus tries his best to cheer him up.

Prometheus: I’ve got the evidence. I also got two more pieces that I didn’t know existed before. My men will give you a lift to the pay-per-view so you can use these three days to look over the facts of the case.

With that, he hands over the three pieces of evidence. The first is the one he was looking for from the beginning. It is a Junction Star student ID card. The new pieces of evidence are somewhat more interesting, though. One is bloodied glove with metal studs on it. The other is a bronze bust of Rakkyu Saketumi. In the pompadour, however, is a hidden compartment that contains three pieces of paper. On one of them is printed the blueprints of the FTUW Tower. On the second are profiles of each possible FTUW wrestler. The final piece of paper…contains plans for some sort of weapon entitled “Special Beam Cannon”.

Det. Callaghan: (C…could this be it? Is this his plan?! My god, what…what am I dealing with here?)

Prometheus: (Kenjiro, what are you planning?)

And so later that day, Jake Callaghan is in the back of a van on its way back to Nouveau-Richonia. With a massive tournament upon the horizon and this new evidence, the battle has only just begun!