“How’d you like a broken nose?”

###

“I’ll call YOU … Red. What do ya got?”

Ragnar the Red, the Viking villain, laid his cards on the table, face up. “You wanted to know, Rustler … so now you know.”

“Yep,” The Rustler sighed. “I wanted to know, alright.”

“And unless your luck,” the Viking said, “changed all of a sudden, the spoils of this war now belong to me.” He reached out over the table, poised to rake in the pile of cash at its center.

“Now you wait just a minute, Ragnar. How do you know my luck didn’t change?”

“Rustler, we all know you’re a fighter—not a card shark.”

“Yeah,” said the third man at the table, clearly amused. “Most of the time, you can’t even card swim, Rustler. Definitely not a card shark. A boat anchor is more like it.”

The black-hearted cowboy slammed his fist down on the table. “WHAT did you say, Keg? Why don’t you say it AGAIN.”

“What did I say?” asked Powder Keg in his imitable Brooklyn accent. “All I said, was―”

“I wouldn’t say it,” cautioned Ragnar the Red. “The Rustler can be very … ornery … when he’s about to lose.”

“ABOUT TO LOSE?” The Rustler was indignant. “I’ll show you fools ABOUT TO LOSE.”

He stood up and threw the table over in one swift motion.

Ragnar and Powder Keg jumped to their feet, the Viking striking the table with his war hammer while it was still in the air, shattering the flying furniture upon impact.

The Rustler’s hands were thrust under his long black duster coat, while playing cards and smashed glasses littered the floor wet with whatever the villains had been imbibing.

Powder Keg’s fists were up in a fighting posture. “Hey—you got a problem, cowboy?”

“Maybe I do.”

“How’d you like to settle it, then?”

“Maybe I would.”

“How’d you like a broken nose?”

“HA HA HA!” The Rustler rolled into a great belly laugh.

“Wha—what’s so freakin’ funny?”

“You idiot,” Ragnar said. “The Rustler’s not going to fight you. The Rustler’s going to shoot you.”

Powder Keg looked into the The Rustler’s evil eyes, those dark portals and his wicked grin confirming that Ragnar the Red was right.

The greaser scanned the room for something he could explode.

###

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“Well,” Machine Ranger said, “that certainly was a colorful articulation.”

###

“Ahem,” Freddie said over the Ranger’s communication link. “Machine Ranger?”

“Yes, Freddie?”

“I though it might be an opportune time to mention something, sir.”

“Okay.”

“Not that I was listening in on your conversation or anything.”

“Of course not,” Machine Ranger said. He turned to Jake and nodded his head ‘yes’ to Freddie’s eavesdropping proclivities. “What have you got?” he said into his link.

“A little astrophysical programming,” Freddie replied, “and access to the Internet.”

“Great, Freddie. So …”

“I happen to have a little information on the subject of solar flares.”

“You do?” The Ranger looked at Jake. “That’s handy.”

Jake shrugged. “Just don’t believe everything you read on the Internet.”

“No kidding … we’re always telling him that. He’s especially bad with the gossip sites.”

“Machine Ranger,” Freddie said, “shall I proceed?”

“Geez … so serious all of a sudden. Yes, please proceed, Freddie. But give us the CliffsNotes version … don’t read us the entire book, okay?”

Jake grinned.

“Certainly,” Freddie said. “A solar flare is a sudden burst of energy released from the surface of the sun.”

“We knew that,” Machine Ranger said. “Didn’t we, Jake?”

“Yeah, I had to do a report on them last year. And when another star besides the Sun has one, it’s called a stellar flare.”

“Hear that, Freddie? And he, with no internet access.”

“Only old-school programming,” Jake said, with a light knock to the top of his head.

“Did that sound hollow to anyone else?” the Ranger said.

“Very good, Jake,” Freddie said. “Not bad at all for just gray matter … and teenaged gray matter at that.”

“Thanks … I think.”

Machine Ranger looked at him. “That was supposed to be a compliment … I think.”

“And a solar flare,” Freddie continued, “looks like a big zit popping on the face of the sun.”

The people exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Machine Ranger said, “that certainly was a colorful articulation.”

“Ewww,” Jake said.

“Thank you,” Freddie said.

“Do we know how much energy they release?” the Ranger said.

“Popping zits?” Freddie said.

“Ewww,” Jake said.

“No, Freddie—solar flares.”

“A lot of energy,” Freddie said. “As much as … equal to One Hundred Sixty Billion megatons of TNT.”

“Whew,” the Ranger said. “That’s quite a pop.”

###

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"The entire world is going to be on top of you in a matter of minutes.”

###

The helicopter touched down softly in a storm of dust, debris, and the smoke that was still rising from the freshly demolished power chamber.

The pilot cut the engine, removed his headset, and disembarked the craft.

Captain Olympia, seated nearby on a chunk of concrete, waited and watched the tall, dark-haired man approach.

“Captain Olympia, isn’t it?” the man said once he got close enough.

“Who wants to know?”

“I’m Spartucus Finch. Editor of The Supercity Gazette. We’ve met.”

“You could have left your copter running … you won’t be staying long.”

Finch chuckled. “I guess public relations isn’t your strong suit.”

“I guess not trespassing isn’t your strong suit.”

“You know, I’m sensing that you don’t really want to talk to me.”

“So you have some sense.”

“But you should want to talk to me.”

“Why?”

“And let me tell you why.”

“Okay …”

“Because whatever happened here … the entire world is going to be on top of you in a matter of minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“And I have a feeling you don’t want that. Neither of us wants that.”

“You don’t want that?”

“Of course not. Neither of us wants the whole world crawling over this place.”

“We don’t? I mean, you don’t?”

“No. You’re much better off … just telling me your story—the story you want to get out. Whatever I print, everyone else will go along with. They’d rather not have to do their own work anyway.”

“That actually sounds pretty good.”

“And I … get the exclusive.”

###

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"the social networks are all atwitter"

###

“As I was saying, the social networks are all atwitter with rumors of a mysterious industrial accident at the MacPherson Labs complex, and the news channels are picking it up as breaking news.”

“I guess that’s to be expected,” the Olympian said. “That’s what they do.”

“Police and fire?” Machine Ranger asked.

“Emergency vehicles are incoming,” Freddie said.

“How much time?”

“A couple minutes, tops.”

“Can you tie them up?”

“I’ve already shut down traffic signals and jammed traffic—and that is the only reason you have a couple minutes.”

“Great job Freddie,” Captain Olympia said. “Anything else you can think of …”

“Do it,” the Ranger finished his sentence.

“Absolutely,” Freddie said. “Will do. And there is … just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” Machine Ranger sounded impatient. “What’s that, Freddie?”

“A number of aircraft have breached our airspace outer perimeter.”

“But you scared them all off before they got too close?”

“That’s affirmative. We threatened violence, and they turned away.”

“That’s good news,” Captain Olympia said.

“All except for one.”

“That’s bad news.”

“One’s still incoming?” the Ranger said. “Did you scramble drones?”

“Yes sir. Our drones have the bogey surrounded. Would you like to shoot it down?”

“Any markings on the aircraft, Freddie?” Captain Olympia said.

“Yes sir, the craft is a helicopter … with tail numbers and insignia indicating … The Supercity Gazette.”

The Olympian groaned.

“Spartucus Finch,” Machine Ranger said. “Okay Freddie … shoot it down.”

“Sir? Are you sure?”

“Of course he’s kidding,” Captain Olympia said, shaking his head at his compatriot. “At least, I hope he is.”

The Ranger shrugged.

###

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Superhero Story 2 is here!

Jake and his friends are back for a new, south of the border superhero adventure!

A U.S. Serviceman is being wrongly detained … and somebody has to do something about it. And thanks to our superheroes, someone is!

No thanks to our supervillains, by the way.

The temperature’s rising, powers are coming on strong, and … did we mention the new supercar?

Action awaits!

(Perfect for all ages, appropriate for young readers.)

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“Mmmm,” Machine Ranger said. “I could use a snack.”

###

“You’re in a hallway now, correct Doctor?”

“Correct.”

“Standing in front of an elevator …”

“I sure am, Freddie.”

“Good. The door directly across from the elevator is the address we’re looking for.”

“Hallelujah. Can you tell how many we’ve got inside?”

“Only two, Doctor.”

“Only two, huh?”

“Oh, and there’s one coming up the—”

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a familiar, war hammer-wielding super-villain.

Ragnar the Red looked surprised, his blue eyes growing wide as he realized whose company he was in.

“Hey there,” Machine Ranger said. “Viking.”

“Greetings,” Ragnar replied. “Tin Man.”

The Ranger eyed the large sack that Ragnar was carrying, with produce and packaging protruding from the top. “Been grocery shopping, big boy? Pick us up anything?”

The Viking dropped the bag on the elevator floor, and raised his hammer with a growl.

“Mmmm,” Machine Ranger said. “I could use a snack.”

“I’m more than just a snack, you metal moron.” The Viking stepped out of the elevator. “You’ll find you bit off more than you can chew, with me.”

The doors closed behind him, swallowing up the grocery bag.

“Now see what you’ve done?” Machine Ranger said. “Say goodbye to those munchies.”

Ragnar took a menacing step toward him. “It’s you I’ll be saying goodbye to.” He held his hammer up in position to strike. “It’s a worthy trade.”

Machine Ranger raised his arms out in front of him. “That’s close enough, Red.” His twin Gatling guns spun and whirred a second, and stopped. “You’ll make a heck of a mess at this range.”

“Why don’t you come out of that armor, Tin Man? And face me like a real man.”

“I’m not here to play by your rules, Viking. As a matter of fact, I’m through playing at all—”

Ragnar the Red hurled his hammer at his adversary.

Machine Ranger opened fire, but the flying iron deflected all the shots, and the hammer struck him hard in the breadbasket, doubling him over and sending him flying backward down the hall.

The Viking sprinted after him, swiping his war hammer up off the floor as he passed.

The hero took a deep breath, and sprang to his feet—just in time to be caught by another vicious hammer blow, which smashed him through a wall.

###

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“Taken, sir. She was taken.”

###

Officer Ritchie was directing traffic around a large wrecker parked at the end of the alley.

“Ritchie!”

“Wha— who’s that? Oh, Mister MacPherson … what brings you to … where’s your car, Mister MacPherson?”

“My car? Aw, it’s … not important. Sometimes it’s faster just to go on foot, you know what I mean?”

“Sure. I guess I do.” Ritchie waved a car around.

“Here it comes!” hollered the worker at the controls of the wrecker.

“It’s because the alley is so narrow,” the officer explained to MacPherson.

The end of the smashed-up limousine, still turned on its side, appeared at the mouth of the alley.

“The wrecker wouldn’t fit in there, so we had to drag it out. Lucky the winch had enough cable to reach it.”

MacPherson winced a little at the sight of the car scraping across the pavement, as it was pulled toward the back of the wrecker. “That’s going to do a number on the paint, isn’t it?”

“That poor machine’s going to need a lot more than just paint to get it back on the road, I’m afraid. But I’m more worried about our mayor.”

“The mayor? Gosh, was she in this wreck?”

“Mister MacPherson—you haven’t heard?”

“I guess I’m in the dark. What’s happened? Was she injured?”

“Taken, sir. She was taken.”

“Barbara was taken? By who?”

###

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