In celebration of the new Wolverine Origins movie, we thought we’d take a moment to write our own little story about a chance encounter between Wonder Woman and Wolverine. It was submitted by one of our new interns. Let us know if we should keep the guy or let him go.
Ever since 1959, when the 14th Dalai Lama fled Tibet, it’s been an invitation for Hydra forces to come in and set up shop amidst the confusion and contested powers between China and India. It’s been three weeks since I’ve stumbled on a trail of (now dead) Hydra troops that led me to Leh, a po-dunk, back-water, dirt-hole of a town in a tucked away corner of Tibet, now India. Keep ‘em poor and they’re easy to overrun.
Aside from an infuriating 12-hour taxi drive that would have tried a friggin’ Tibetan Monk’s patience, I also had to deal with a lack of public restrooms the entire trip. That, and the fact that the roadside tea houses didn’t serve any beer or sake had me itchin’ for a scrap with some Hydra goons.
Hydra scent was easy enough to follow, since they continued to live off burgers and “freedom fries,” while the locals ate their spicy momos-dumpling stew with noodles. The burger diet made the Hydra stench stand out like a frigging sore thumb though, but I can’t blame the Hydra lemmings too much, those momos-dumplings are damn good, but they’re hell on the colon, even my healing factor can’t stand up against the Indian version of Montezuma’s revenge. Another reason why I was madder than a wet hen when I got out of that damn cab.
After interrogating a local goat butcher, who had three Hydra goons in the back room, the trail led me to Pangong Lake. It’s one of those freezing, high altitude ponds that nobody in their right mind has any business visiting. Just like this little town, little lake Pangong sits right on the border of China and India, convenient location between two countries that could care less. Hydra works the locals, keeping under the Avenger’s radar while they can still build their operations undetected.
Three hours of walking around the frozen lake paid off with lady luck unfolding a hidden doorway into the mountain. It’d be just like Frodo and Gandalf, right before having their clocks cleaned in Mordor, except here I got me at least six guards with AKs, all with their thumbs up their butts. Looks like it’s their lunch break, since there’s a local Tibetan boy delivering pepperoni pizza. hrmm… I could go for some of that right now. I wonder if they got any calzone too. Friggin’ colon’s killing me, need to speed this up and use whatever toilet they got inside.
Nothing makes an irritable bowel feel better than taking out a bunch of Hydra pukes…that and a pepperoni pizza. After the delivery boy leaves, I creep up and make the drop on them from the rock ledge above their heads.
“Is that pizza I smell, Bub!?”
They’re taken completely off guard. The closest one, with both hands busy shoveling a slice of pizza into his pie hole wets himself. He’s also the first to go. I kick into gear, no need in letting them have a chance to alert their backup. I take out two more while the others scramble to grab their weapons, that are stupidly leaning up against a far wall. They’re all gonners in no time. I might be the best at killing, but only a psychopath enjoys it. I only partially enjoy it when I know they’re guilty as sin. And these hooded pukes are guiltier than a dirty politician in Chicago.
After taking out the Hydra pukes, I grab their pizza box, bingo… calzone… mmmmm, and head towards the control panel that opens the steel doors, seeing if I can spot a john anywhere close by. I push the big green button, when suddenly a freight train connects with the back of my skull slamming me against the doors.
Nobody told me Hulk was anywhere near Tibet.
I must have blacked out, I never black out, because I’m now on my back, expecting to see the Hulk standing over me, eating my pizza. Instead, what I see is a tall glass of water, near close to six foot, perfectly proportioned, brunette wearing some star spangled swim trunks red boots and red corset, the kind you see in those lingerie magazines…. probably a D cup. Hulk’s no where to be seen. I must be losing my touch to let a girl in skives get the drop on me. Definitely has powers. …. Good!
I drag myself to my feet, giving my system time to heal the internal bleeding in my cerebellum.
I take it you’re the dame who hit me! Making me drop my calzone! Looks like Papa’s gonna spank if you try it again, sister.”
“You just murdered eight men. None of them fired their weapons, hardly a case of self-defense. I’m delivering you to the local authorities so you can stand trial.”
“Who the hell are you? Mother Teresa? .. Or a Hooker, judgin’by that skimpy lil’…”
I didn’t even see the next punch coming; yeah… she was that fast. It wasn’t even a punch, she actually mule kicked me in the throat. Nobody mule kicks me in the throat and lives to tell about it. Hydra can wait cause this stripper’s just royally pissed me off and opened a whole case of whoop-ass!
“Listen sister!” I barely get the words out, as I’m trying to heal my throat from her kick, Jesus that hurt… and I thought I knew pain. “These bubs are mindless savages… they’re Hydra. Look at their uniforms. What Tibetan rock’ve you been sitting under to not even know the bad guys when you see them? So step back and go get a manicure or brow waxin’ I have work to do.”
I grab a slice of pepperoni, tuck the pizza box under my other arm and turn to head into the Hydra complex, still rubbing my throat, hoping my larynx isn’t permanently damaged. Gotta remember to see Doc Strange when I get back. Clock’s still ticking, and my colon’s screamin’ louder. Better locate the restroom before dropping the bomb… Hehe, I’ll be dropping a bomb here in a second if I don’t find that restroom quick. Not a good first impression to leave on some doo-gooder-hero-wannabe, especially since she’s pretty cute.
The freight train comes around for a second pass. Lucky me.
I wake up 200 feet in the Hydra complex, spilling a red Folgers coffee can, that the local Hydra goons were using as a spittoon, all over my outfit. Gross! I hate other bub’s chew spooge. I lose it. Everything goes RED! Looks like big sis is getting a Logan spankin’ after all!
I draw down, “SNIKT!” and lunge for li’l princess’s throat. Whoever she is, she’s more than proved she can take care of herself, which means, as Ben would say, “It’s Clobberin’ Time!” But I don’t clobber ‘em. I bleed ‘em. Tall dark and dangerous is goin’ down! First her, then Hydra, then I finish my friggin’ pizza before it gets cold. … on second thought.. first her, then the john, then Hydra.
= = =
And to think, my meditation in the Tibetan monastery was to relax my nerves, and calm my spirit, I find another masked fiend in such close proximity. I’ve never seen someone so bloodthirsty. This little man just murdered eight men with claws that extend from his wrists. And after taking two of my own punches, he manages to still charge at me… and is that chewed tobacco spit on his face? Gross!
He attacks with a ferocity unlike any I’ve encountered before…. such speed… obviously an agent of Ares.
He swings at me with his claws in a maelstrom of sharpened death. I block the first three dozen of his strikes, but I was not fast enough to evade his 37th as one of his claws grazed my arm, actually slicing through my flesh. It is a specially honed blade, indeed, to cut into my skin. I’d best be extremely wary of this one. I continue to block the rest of this feral creature’s assaults, deflecting with my bracers; having been wrought from Zeus’s shield, by Hephaestus himself, they are indestructible.
He is a tenacious little fiend, I’ll grant him that, a veritable animal… not unlike a wild… rabid badger. By Hera! He is causing me to loose ground, forcing me back with his tsunami of attacks! I need to end this now!
I dodge seven more swipes, feint a strike to set him up, and with the speed of Hermes I quickly secure both his wrists, careful to avoid his blades, and follow through with a kick to his chest, a strong one this time. My aim and force are off as I only meant to send him back a hundred feet, I accidentally vault him high into the air… really high. During his decent, I unleash my Lariat of Hestia, also forged by god-friend Hephaestus, of Gaea’s golden girdle, and lasso the little troll securely, giving a strong pull, forcing his decent at breakneck speed, right into my final punch. I believe Hercules referred to it as a “hay-maker.”
He screams in rage as he approaches Earth at astonishing speed. I strike him with a terrific right cross as he sails into the air yet again. By the gods, he has a skull that is beyond dense. I have already broken three nails! I pull on my lariat once again, reeling him in, not unlike an Earth child’s toy paddle and ball. This time, I back hand him with a blow that would have felled an oak, saving my nails in the process, yet still stinging my own hand greatly. By HERA, he must have a jaw of metal…I nearly broke my fingers on that last blow!
My last strike flings the mongrel into the complex yet again, setting off the alarms. More masked men come from deep within within the chamber as I approach.
I yell at them to stay put and not proceed further or they will be harmed. I need to find out what is really going on and if this masked creetin’s words are true or not.
The green clad men respond by opening fire on me with their assault weapons. The little badger was true to his word, these men are up to no good and need to be put down fast. I begin the ritual of deflecting their bullets.
… Is that pizza I smell? And after three weeks under a Tibetan rock….
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