Kin and Tonic

By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)

     At that point, I take a look at Hardman, since Kenta seems to have stopped his assault on me, probably to watch what's goin' on above us. Smiley and his girlfriend are nowhere to be seen, but Hard's still banged up real good. He starts shoutin' ta me.

     ".Bomb! Ya gotta ignore anyone else but me, ya hear? Ya remember that Mesmerman guy I told ya about a few weeks back?", he yells.

     "Yeah, I think so.", which was being generous. I was hammered pretty bad when he was explainin' the full story to me. All I got out of it was that Mesmerman was some kinda hallucinationary bein'- a guy that used your own mind to fight against you, if that makes any sense. It didn't to me.

     "You're about to meet 'im. Whatever ya do, don't listen to anythin' he has to say!"

     Well, I'm good at that. I'm hopin' Kenta's plannin' on postponin' my burial for the time being to put Mez down.

     At least until I saw that the new Mags was layin on his back a few inches from me. I didn't even see him fall over. Then again, he kicked in one of my eyes, so I guess that's excusable.

     I try climbin' to my feet and groan like an old geezer while doin' so. I'm a mess, and in no shape to fight, but I don't have much of a choice. Hardy's body is actually smashed in some places, which isn't somethin' I'm used to seein'. Somehow, he seems more concerned with the events in the sky. It also appears that Mr. Smiley and Mrs. Smiley have left for the evening.

     "I gotta say, Hardy", I say slowly, "I don't much approve of your kinda friends."

     "Been meaning to cut back.", was all he said. "Okay, listen.The guy you're about to see ain't our real enemy. It's just a dummy."

     "Now, now, old friend.", a decidedly nasty, sneering voice announces from the heavens above. "Why would you go and insult me like that? After all of the special events we've shared!"

     "Rich.Listen ta me.", he mutters. "Ya gotta keep a level head. Ya gotta avoid fightin' outta anger on this one. Trust me."

     "You're not makin' much sense, big guy. Most of the time, people fight simply cause of anger. We're not exactly a bunch of elementary school kids playin' 'boxer' out here."

     "You've got to stay calm this time. This guy feeds on negative emotions. He was usin' us all along in order ta set up his resurrection.", big blue reasons with me.

     "Oh.", is all I've got to say.

     "I presume my Reavers gave you passable entertainment, yes? I certainly wouldn't want you to be bored.", the voice mocks us as Mesmerman finally descends from the big ass hole in the sky.

     Geez. I thought Smiley had a wicked grin on him. This guy's face looks like its about to split in half at the lips. Somehow, I doubt even that would do much harm to him, considerin' he's nothin' but a bunch of floating pieces that end up resembling a human figure. Just barely.

     I gotta admit, though- he's pretty cool lookin'.

     Admirin' his neat fashion sense aside, I still don't take too kindly to anyone who jerks around myself or my friends. Or long lost, pissed off relatives, for that matter.

     Oh yeah. Kenta.

     He's still knocked out behind me. I figure he's an open target in this state, so I grab him by the forearm and drag him to the hole in the wall he smashed me into earlier. I toss him deep inside the building in hopes of keepin' safe- it's the least I owe him, I figure. If he's still in a killin' mood when he gets back up, then I'll just have to deal with it then.

     By now, Mez has lowered himself to around twenty feet above us, which he holds off at.

     "I must say, Mr. Kassidy, if all of your family is as exquisitely hateful as you and your brother, I'd never have to seek out another source of energy again."

     "Sorry to break it to ya, but the kid and I are the only one's left in that line."

     "Energy"? What the hell's that all about? Oh yeah. Usin' us and all of that.

     Dammit, my vision's goin' all blurry on me now. Head's foggin' up. Not now!

     "In any case, I suppose I should commence to.thanking you two now.", the swirlin' mess of spheres and rings gloat.

     "This ain't your style, Mesmerman.", Hardy bellows, takin' even me by surprise. "It's way too cut and dry."

     The bastard just tilts his head back and starts laughin'. It's a pretty sickening sound.

     "Hardman, Hardman.Always over-analyzing, aren't you?"

     I'm a bit skeptical on the over-analyzing accusation.

     "Don't you see? This has my thumbprint all over it! The use of foot soldiers! The use of an unwitting loved one as a weapon in order to collect what I need! It's all there!", he rattles off.

     "And that's the problem.", Hardy snarls.

     "What?", Mez questions, the huge smile not movin' the entire time he talks.

     "A guy like Mesmerman doesn't have a checklist of things to do in order to achieve 'is goal.", the big man claims. "He's all about mind games and unpredictability. He sure as hell wouldn't repeat the same ol' M.O. as before. No.That's something another villain would do.A bumbling idiot of a villain."

     "Bumbling, you say?", the black and white form says with even more volume in his voice.

     "Yeah.", Hardy smirks, causin' me to arch an eyebrow. "It's somethin' Dr Wily would do, frankly."

     ".Is that so?", Mesmerman questions. "You'd be right, if only you could prove Dr Wily could do something like this!"

     Mesmerman summons a rather large, mean lookin' scythe into his hand and bears down upon us.

     He goes after Hardy first, his weapon held behind him for a dramatic blow. In Hard's state of bein', he just might crack him open like a walnut. So, I figure I'd give Big Blue a helpin' hand and toss a pair of bombs in Mez's path.

     I was pretty surprised that someone like Mesmerman, a guy Hardy clearly hated and acknowledged as a pretty nasty creature, flew back like a bitch when he flew right into my bombs. Come to think of it, somethin' was weird about how he took the blast, too.

     Mesmerman tumbles in the air for a few seconds before regaining his.footing, I guess. In any case, he sets his sights on me and tries the same routine, only this time avoiding my bombs and getting a bit too close for comfort. Luckily, Hardy returned my favor and nails the guy with a Hard Knuckle, swatting him off course again.

     Yeah, there's somethin' weird about this now.

     "You stubborn fools!", Mesmerman shouts as he corrects himself. "You'll be crushed yet!"

     Hardy manages a wry smirk.

     The big man doesn't wait for Mesmerman's next attempt, and he takes the fight to him. It's damned impressive everytime I see it- a four ton man-shaped tank flyin' like a big clumsy condor. Usually, Hardy does his flyin' press to squash annoying' gnats when his Hard Knuckle ain't enough. This time, he's usin' his jet to meet Mez, and not to take him out to lunch.

     Big Blue smashes right through Mesmerman, causin' his body to fly apart. And don'tcha know it? That ain't the end of it. The guy's body parts start flyin' around by themselves, swattin' Hardy a few times as he lands with a terrific crash straight below.

     I start goin' back to work by tossin' bombs as fast as I can make 'em- one every five seconds. Split up between two hands on alternate rounds, albeit with one a' those hands bein' injured, that's one bomb tossed every two and a half seconds. The sky looks like a World War II documentary on the attack on England.

     Y'know.I'm a bit disappointed. Hardy had me worryin' about this guy, as if he was the last boss of a Fatal Fury game. Lemme say this; Mesmerman is no Geese Howard.

     It takes justa minute of constant abuse from both Hardy and I to blow up and crush just about all of Mez, who by now is nothing but a floating head and part of a torso. The smile never went away, so I assume he can't do anything but grin.

     "You can come out now, Wily.", Hardman huffs after a few seconds to catch his breath. I'm not exactly shocked by this statement, since Wily's behind just about every crime in the city. But still.A villain posing as a villain? Lame.

     Mesmerman doesn't react.at first. Then his remaining body starts to fizzle and twist until finally revealing that, yeah, Wily was using one of his trademark hologram projectors to hide behind. He's in a tiny, cramped little pod, with his knees uncomfortably high, and his sweaty, white-knuckled hands clenched onto a pair of control sticks. He's lookin' just a little pale, too.

     "Jou.Jou!", he screams from within his machine. "Jou meddelzing vittle.Ach! I can not even shink of un proper inshult, I'm zo angry!"

     "Spare it, Albert.", Hardy shouts back, a more serious look on his face now. "It ain't so much that ya insist on botherin' the hell outta us now, but you outta know that usin' the image of Mesmerman is definitely crossin' th' line!"

     Wily just sits in his little pod, lookin' more than a little stupid, and sharpens his eyes, wordless.

     "Pretty low. So what was the plan this time, huh? Take me out first before hittin' the rest o' the Mechs? Or are you just pickin' targets at random in your old age?", Hardy accuses.

     ".I plead ze fitz.", Wily says smugly.

     "Nah.This guy.He didn't have a plan", I say to Hard, loudly enough so that Wily can hear. "He's way past his prime. He can't even put together a decent purse snatchin' operation."

     I look up at Wily, whose lips are turnin' white from pressin' them shut too hard. Still, the stubborn bastard refuses to take the bait just yet.

     "Hell.It probably ain't even worth hearin' to begin with. C'mon Rich, let's go fix my floor. We'll send the wash up here the bill afterwards."

     Hardy and I turn our backs to the old codger and start walkin' back to Hard's Bar. Then we finally hear what we wanna hear.

     "Vash up? Vash up!? Jou.Jour chust like all und ze others! Jou can't even recognize genius ven jou shee it unfold before jour eyes!"

     Hardy and I keep goin, a pair of mile wide smirks crossin' our beat up mugs, no doubt.

     "I did it.to reclaim mein handy verk!"

     The big guy and I stop and listen. Bout time he cracked.

     "Ches! Ze opportunity.presented itshelf nicely! I learned of ein new Magnutman, und chust had to shee for mein shelf chust vat he could do these days. I chust had to shee how badly zat fool Herr Light screwed up mein verk!"

     I shoot Hardy a strained, skeptical look with my one good eye.

     "Seems a bit thin on substance, even for you.", the big man tells the cramped German.

     "Vat do jou know, jou vumbering lummox!", an insulted Wily yells back. I swear, it's like arguin' with a five year old at times. "I'm through mincing ze vords vit jou! Bass! Come und finish zees two, vunce und for all!"

     The image of Smiley appears once again, only to fizzle out and eventually reveal the form of Wily's personal little toadie, Bass. Despite getting' his ass kicked more times than he can count, with some of those beatins' comin' right from your's truly and Big Blue here, he still has that cocky asshole sneer across his face, probably because he sees us as easy pickin' after our fight.

     "Neat little device here.", he mocks, pitching a small, metallic device in his hand as he talks. "The old man here has his shield technology down to a science."

     "Of course its science, jou dolt!", Wily screams from above. An annoyed Bass continues.

     "Anyways, it did its job." The smug raven-black punk crushes the gadget in his hand. "I don't need stupid little parlor tricks to mop the floor with either of you two now!"

     Bass levels his buster cannon with us, chargin' it up for one big blast.

     The purple energy collides with the space halfway between Hardy an' me, and Bass. Beyond the violet glow cracklin' from the ground, we see Bass strugglin' with his arm, which has been pinned to the rubble by four, pointed throwin' stars.

     All four of us turn our heads up to the source of the save- a rather malevolent, and real pissed off, Shadowman, perched atop one of the left-standin' buildings. He stares down Wily for a few seconds before deciding to join us down on planet Earth.