Max Rage: Twelve Punches To Mars!

by Jake Bible

  “Those are both very good questions,” Lord Sahndle said. “I do not know if anyone has ever asked. Shall I try?”

  “Why would I let you try? God, the stink in here is really fucking with my brain! If I can kill it ten times, I’m fucking gonna!”

  “For that reason there, Mr. Rage. Diplomacy is not your strong suit. However, as a Ghej, I have been trained in the art since birth. Allow me.”

  Lord Sahndle cleared his whatever throat.

  “Pardon me. Mr. Sphuncter? Hello? If you can hear me, I would like to introduce myself. I am Lord Cornelius Berger von Hauten De La Paz Sahndle the Fortieth. Might I have a word with you?”

  “Those are all Earth names,” Rage said. “Why does your family have Earth names?”

  “Closest translation. Your tiny Earth mind would explode if you tried to pronounce my true name. I do not even believe your ears can hear the name being uttered without madness ensuing.”

  “Great. Keep talking to the butt worm, Sahndle.”

  “Yes, I shall. Mr. Sphuncter? Or would it be Ms. Sphuncter? If you have a prefix preference, please let me know since the last thing I want to do is offend you.”

  “You talkin’ to me, bitch?”

  The intestinal walls rumbled as the words echoed around Rage and Lord Sahndle.

  “I, uh… Yes?” Lord Sahndle responded. “To whom am I speaking?”

  “To whom? To whom! Well, la-de-fucking-da. The jelly guy with all the tentacles asks to whom! They call me Grandmaster Scunge, yo. Wassup, bitches?”

  “Yeah. This is gonna go great,” Rage muttered.

  Sixteen

  “Yo, if you be talkin’ at me, then you best hurry because I gots my Asker-dasker-dos headin’ your way, bitches. Got somethin’ to say? Fuckin’ say it, yo. Otherwise get ready for some serious pissin’ comin’ atcha. Those Asker-dasker-dos is gonna hose you down and make ya all tasty and shit. Mmmm-hmmmm.”

  “Great. Stuck inside the colon of a douchebruh worm,” Rage said, readying his rifle. “Am I surprised? No. No, I am not surprised.”

  “Who you callin’ douchebruh, douchebruh? I’m full street, yo. No douchebruh here. I’m legit hardcore. You put a douchebruh in front of me and I’ll shove that bitch so far up my ass he won’t know what hit him.”

  “Anyone that gets mentally sucked up a giant worm’s anus is not going to know what hit them, pal,” Rage said. “Now—”

  “Mr. Rage? Please, let me handle the communications,” Lord Sahndle said. “A delicate touch is needed here, I can tell.”

  “Delicate touch? Have you been listening to this guy? Delicate isn’t the word that comes to mind.”

  “I insist you let me try,” Lord Sahndle said.

  “Have at it, my lord,” Rage said.

  “Lord? Oh, shit, yo! I got royalty all up in my butt!” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Never sucked dry some royalty before. This gonna be delish, yo!”

  “Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said. “Would it be possible for you to allow us to leave your fine innards? Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement I need to attend. A very important engagement, as a matter of fact. I am sure you can understand the pressures that are put upon important figures such as ourselves. I am a Ghej lord and you are a grandmaster. Very few understand the tensions we are under.”

  “True dat, bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge responded. “You think it’s easy hangin’ out down here all day and all night waitin’ for my brain to grab up some tasty treats? No fuckin’ way, yo. This is hard ass work. Literally, yo! I got to keep two asses goin’ at once to maintain this rockin’ bod. Shit, sometimes I go weeks before some lost ass bitch falls down a hole and ends up close enough to snag. Weeks, yo. Shit is hard, yo. Hard.”

  “Yes, and I hear that for which you are dishing, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said. “That is why I would like to make you an offer. It is a very lucrative offer. If you allow us to leave, I will guarantee that you receive all the water you can drink. My family is very tight with the Nestles. Do you know the Nestles?”

  “Bitch, yeah I know the Nestles!” Grandmaster Scunge shouted. “That’s the bitch ass family that took control of all the water across the goddamn galaxy! Water stealin’ motherfuckers!”

  “Oh, I do agree. One hundred percent, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said. “So, wouldn’t it be just delish if I was able to provide you water directly from the Nestles’ personal reserves? I can make that happen, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge. Being Ghej, I have that kind of pull.”

  “Nestle water? You can get me unlimited Nestle water?” Grandmaster Scunge asked. “How you gonna do that, yo?”

  “Well, first we would have to be set free—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course you’d have to be set free. Ain’t no comms service down in this tunnel. Especially no comms service inside my guts, yo. Been tryin’ to get Earth Corp to set up a transmitter near my north anus, but they won’t do it. Cheap motherfuckers, yo. Cheap ass motherfuckers.”

  “I’ll agree with you there,” Rage said. “I owe them two million credits and those assholes are charging me thirty-six percent interest. Per day. Per fucking day.”

  “What? Thirty-six percent per day? No fuckin’ way, yo.”

  “True story.”

  “Daaaaaamn! That ain’t right, yo.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So, you see, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle continued, “we are all victims here of the corporate hegemony.”

  “Corporate hegemony? Bitch, you’re a Ghej lord. You ain’t victim of shit. I’m done talkin’ to you, yo. I’m gonna talk to the bitch with all the debt now. What’s your name, debt bitch?”

  “Rage.”

  “What’s that now? Rick?”

  “No. Rage. Max Rage is my name.”

  The colon went still and got very quiet.

  “Rage. You say your name is Rage? Max Rage?” Grandmaster Scunge asked.

  “Yeah. Max Rage.”

  “Bullshit! That’s a whole lotta bullshit is what that is. There ain’t no Max Rage all up in my guts. No fuckin’ way.”

  “You’ve heard of me?”

  “Heard of you? Bitch, you a legend! Crossin’ the galaxies and killin’ entire planets full of bitches! You the real fuckin’ deal, yo!”

  “Uh…thanks,” Rage said. “So, if you’ve heard of me, then you know what I’m capable of. You know I’ll get us out of here and it won’t be good for you if I do.”

  “Oh shit!” Grandmaster Scunge laughed and laughed and laughed. “Listen to this bitch all frontin’ and shit! Damn!”

  “I ain’t frontin’,” Rage said. “I heal. Fast. You can do a lot to me and I’ll just keep on fighting. Bring on your Askerdons. I’ll kill every last one of them.”

  “Bitch, you ain’t gonna kill no Asker-dasker-dos,” Grandmaster Scunge responded. “Asker-dasker-dos is like indestructible and shit. Don’t live long, but ain’t no one gonna kill them while they are livin’.”

  “I’ll kill them,” Rage said.

  “Wanna bet, bitch?’ Grandmaster Scunge laughed. “You kill even one of my Asker-dasker-dos and I’ll let you go free. Don’t even need to get me that sweet Nestle water, yo. You kill an Asker-dasker-do and you earn your freedom.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep that deal?” Rage asked.

  “Whoa…” Grandmaster Scunge replied. “My word is my bond, yo. Sphuncters don’t mess around when it comes to makin’ deals, bitch. We all stuck down here in these stupid, bitch ass tunnels, waitin’ on Scorchers that are high as fuck or just stupid to come wandering along. You think I got the time or energy to fuck around and play you, bitch? Fuuuuuck…”

  “I kill an Askerdon and you’ll let us go? You could keep your word by letting us go then sucking us right back in,” Rage said. “I’ve made a thousand deals on a thousand planets with a thousand different races. Wouldn’t be the first time some asshole tries to trick me with word games.”

  “Yo, Rage, here’s how it’ll g
o,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “You kill one of my Asker-dasker-dos and not only will I let you and the lord bitch go, but I’ll give you little bitches a ride to wherever you need to get to.”

  “A ride, you say?” Lord Sahndle said. “Can you get us to the A Cappella Mime Troupe Plaza? I am judging the competition there.”

  “No fuckin’ way!” Grandmaster Scunge exclaimed. “I love a cappella mime! Love it, yo! That shit is the bomb! I mean, I ain’t never been to a real performance because I’m stuck down here, but like a hundred years ago, I caught a whole fuckin’ troupe, yo. Made them perform in front of my south anus for hours. Then I ate the bitches because I was fuckin’ thirsty as fuck after a show like that. Yo, can you get me in to see the competition?”

  “I, well, you are rather large, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said.

  “Yeah, sure,” Rage interrupted “We can get you in. I know one of the troupes personally and the lord here has all kinds of pull.”

  “Yeah he does, yo!” Grandmaster Scunge shouted. “Fuckin’ goin’ to see the a cappella mime troupe comp! Fuck yeah, bitches!”

  “Do you think that perhaps since we are getting you in to see the performances, we could skip the killing of the Askerdon?” Lord Sahndle asked. “We are on a bit of a timetable.”

  Rage shook his head and pointed up.

  “What? No way, bitch. Deal has been made, yo. Back out now and I’m gonna have to drink you dry for bein’ a backin’ out little bitch, bitch.”

  “That,” Rage said and lowered his finger.

  He gripped his rifle tight and turned the opposite way they’d come in from.

  “Bring on the Askerdon,” Rage said.

  “Oh, it’s bein’ brought, bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “It’s bein’ brought so hard that you’re gonna break your eyes just seein’ all the bringin’, bitch! Yeah, bitch!”

  Rage hadn’t had a ton of experience with Askerdons. The brief bit he had interacted, he was not happy. Stinking like piss for a day or so no matter how much you shower tends to ruin the mood.

  But, despite his lack of expertise with the alien race, there was one distinguishing characteristic that Rage was expecting.

  “Is that laughing?” Lord Sahndle asked.

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” Rage replied. “The little fuckers never stop laughing. They think being nearly indestructible and getting to piss on whatever they want is hilarious.”

  “Rather rude of them,” Lord Sahndle said.

  “Shut the fuck up, snooty bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “If the Asker-dasker-do wants to giggle his tits off, then he gets to giggle his tits off.”

  “Right before I blast his tits off,” Rage said.

  “Oh, daaaaaaaamn!” Grandmaster Scunge exclaimed.

  The laughing grew louder. And louder. And louder. Way too loud. Much, much louder than Rage would have liked.

  “That sounds like more than one, Scunge,” Rage said.

  “It is, bitch. Deal was for you to kill one, yo. We ain’t made no deal about me sending more than one at ya. Shoulda been payin’ attention, bitch! It’s Asker-dasker-do time!”

  “Mother….” Rage sighed. “Fine. Bring it.”

  Six Askerdons came bouncing at them from out of the darkness of the Sphuncter’s intestines. The light on Rage’s rifle reflected off their yellow, bouncing bodies and turned everything a nice urine color. Rage thought that was fitting.

  He also thought he’d had enough of shit stink, pissy aliens, and giant worm asses. It was time to get to work.

  Seventeen

  Rage opened fire. He let loose with three hot rockets and an endless stream of plasma fire.

  “Yo, bitch! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!” Grandmaster Scunge shouted. “Shit stings, yo!”

  “YOU WANT THE RAGE? THEN YOU’RE GONNA FEEL THE RAGE!” Rage roared. “BITCH!”

  Rage kept firing and the Askerdons kept laughing. They also kept bouncing straight at Rage and Lord Sahndle. The plasma blast had zero effect on the giggling aliens. The hot rockets slowed them down somewhat, but there was zero damage done. In fact, as Rage kept firing and firing and firing, he almost thought the Askerdons were getting off on the hot rocket explosions.

  The Askerdons were only a few meters away. Rage’s rifle was getting hot to the touch. It was going to overheat soon if Rage didn’t kill one of the damn giggling, pissing, bouncing little shits.

  “You know what?” Rage said. “I already stink of shit. What’s a little piss?”

  He tossed his rifle to the side.

  “Motherfucker!” Grandmaster Scunge yelled. “That shit is hot, yo! Get it off my guts, bitch! Get it the fuck off my guts now! Fuck!”

  “I’ll pick it up for you, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said.

  “You will fucking not. Leave it there,” Rage ordered as he pulled two blades from his belt, one for each hand. “What’d I tell ya before?”

  “Yeah, yeah, gonna feel the rage,” Grandmaster Scunge muttered. “Fuckin’ rage hurts, yo…”

  Rage closed with the Askerdons. The bouncing aliens leapt as one and slammed directly into Rage, but he planted his feet, wiggling his boots into the moist folds of the Sphuncter’s intestinal wall. He bent backward, but he didn’t fall.

  Both blades slashed back and forth, back and forth, almost too fast for the normal eye to catch. The sharp edges nicked the Askerdons, but did nothing more than that. The giggling increased and Rage had to tuck his shoulder and shove upward to throw a couple of the Askerdons off of him before they brought him down.

  The pissing began in earnest after that.

  Six geysers of Askerdon urine hit Rage directly in the face. No matter how he tried to duck and turn away, six streams of piss were always in his face.

  He clamped his lips shut, but the piss was getting up his nose, in his ears, in his eyes. It stung bad and began to burn his skin. The pain was intense, but Rage’s body compensated and healed him up as fast as he was injured. Piss, burn, heal. Piss, burn, heal. That was the pattern.

  Then luck struck hard.

  Rage was finally knocked off his feet as all six Askerdons looped their arms together and charged with a single unified, giggling bounce. The impact was too much for even Rage to handle. Down he went, flat on his back, Askerdon yellow all that filled his vision.

  Then an Askerdon screamed.

  The giggling stopped instantly. The weight was lifted as the Askerdons, confused and alarmed, got off Rage quickly.

  There, laying to Rage’s right, was a bleeding, dying, moaning Askerdon. It was impaled on one of Rage’s blades.

  Rage wasted no time and pulled the blade out then struck again. The tip bounced off and Rage nearly had his shoulder dislocated. But that didn’t deter him.

  “Slow and steady,” Rage muttered.

  “What? What was that, yo?” Grandmaster Scunge asked. “What’d you say, bitch?”

  “I said,” Rage answered, “slow and steady.”

  The Askerdon was still down, still moaning, and the others were a few meters back, so confused by the sight of one of theirs wounded.

  Rage eased the blade through the downed Askerdon’s yellow skin and the alien screamed, screamed, screamed, then died.

  Unfortunately, Askerdons die by exploding like water balloons filled with urine.

  “Oh, dear me,” Lord Sahndle said. “What a waste.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Sahndle,” Rage said as he got to his feet. “Had to be done.”

  “What? Oh, no, I was mourning the loss of my outfit,” Lord Sahndle said. “My dry cleaner is a miracle worker, but even she cannot get this quantity of Askerdon urine out. I’ll have to let this ensemble go. How truly sad…”

  “Bitch, go fuck yourself with your ensemble,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “One of my Asker-dasker-dos is dead. Have some sympathy, yo.”

  “Oh, well, my condolences with that as well, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge,” Lord Sahndle said.

  “His condolences can suck it,” R
age said as he turned and faced the quivering group of five Askerdons. “Who’s next? I got your number now, you little pissy shits. Come at me. I’ll slowly pop each and every one of you.”

  “Bitch, chill the fuck out,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “You killed one. That was the deal. No need to be going all psycho on the rest of my Asker-dasker-dos. You a monster or what, yo?”

  “According to half the intergalactic population? Yeah, I’m a fucking monster,” Rage said. He pointed a blade at the Askerdons. “You all. Get gone. Don’t wanna see your yellow asses anywhere near me again. Bounce off into the bowels of this worm’s…bowels.”

  The Askerdons didn’t have to be told twice. They bounced off and were lost from sight in a second.

  “Alright, Scunge,” Rage said and wiped his blades off on his jeans before returning them to his belt. “Your turn. Take us to the plaza.”

  “Okay, so that’s gonna be tricky, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said with a weak little laugh. “I may have been frontin’ some myself there.”

  Rage pulled one of his blades back out. “Do I need to go hunt those pissy beach balls down? Because I will hunt those pissy beach balls down if you tell me you can’t take us where we need to be taken. We had a fucking deal, Scunge. You break a deal with Rage and Rage breaks your fucking life.”

  “Chill, yo, chill,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “I can get you there, but there might be a couple of handoffs.”

  “Handoffs?” Lord Sahndle asked. “What do you mean by handoffs?”

  “I mean my tunnel don’t connect directly to that plaza, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “So I’m gonna have to call up some bros and see if they can link up with us. You’ll have to ride with them for most of the way. Hope you’re chill with that, yo. Can’t help the sitch, you know what I’m sayin’?”

  “Got it,” Rage said and put his blade away again.

  “Uh, Mr. Grandmaster Scunge?” Lord Sahndle asked. “After all of this excitement, I’m afraid I need to relieve myself. May I urinate in here?”

  “What? No, bitch, you can’t be pissin’ in me!” Grandmaster Scunge yelled. “What the fuck, yo! I ain’t your porta potty, bitch!”