Jack Swagger Of Mars
Jack Swagger jumped to his feet, grabbing his duffel bag and sprinting for the door, renewed, refocused, ready to save the beautiful, lost citizens of Hellas.
“Thankth, Jim,” he said, stopping in the doorway to look back and smile, his tongue pressed firmly against the back of his front teeth.
“Yer welcome, kid,” said Jim.
“When I get BACK to EARTH, I’mma make SHORE the Dob-dob-e Universe rememberth your legathy. I can’t thank you enough, ghost of Jim Ross.”
“I ain’t a ghost, kid,” said Jim. “Yer usin’ an iPhone!”
Jack hit “end call” on the screen and smiled as he slipped the phone down the front of his singlet and took off for the Swagger Soaring Eagle.
“He’s not coming back for us,” said Sachie, his lanky arms folded across bent knees.
“You don’t know him like I do,” said Kaa’orri. “We’ve been through so much together … he’s got great workrate. He wouldn’t just leave us to die!”
Sachie’s eye folds lowered. He wanted to be as optimistic as Kaa’orri, but his heart wouldn’t, couldn’t let it happen. He’d seen so many bad things in his life … sat through so many long, boring shows like this, he couldn’t look at the Descent Shaft’s monitors and expect to see something good. He was used to disappointment. As the night-vision footage of the desolate Martian valley went to commercial (for Twix), he mumbled something about waiting and seeing where it goes, then crawled back into the shadows of the room’s safer shadows.
“But … what do we do … what do we do if he doesn’t come back?” Kaa’orri asked.
“See that button on the control panel?”
Kaa’orri looked up to see a comically-large button on the center of the control station.
“That button fires the self-destruct mechanism. It blows The Forge completely and buries the entrance to the shaft. Us with it. The carrier dies, nobody can get up or down. We save Hellas.”
“By BURYING IT??” Kaa’orri shouted. “At the center of the planet? You’ll kill EVERYONE. You’ll kill US! Yourself!” Her words came quicker now, sharper, as if pushed out of her body from somewhere deep within.
“It keeps them from riding down the shaft and killing everyone themselves. At least this way they’ve got a chance.”
“A chance at WHAT?”
Sachie couldn’t answer. As his mouth hung open, a solitary radar blip resounded and echoed through the control room.
“The hell is that,” Sachie mumbled, climbing to his feet.
Kaa’orri’s eyes lit up. “It’s JACK SWAGGER!”
The Swagger Soaring Eagle hummed as it sped across the planet’s surface. Jack pushed the engines as hard as they’d go. Were his friends still safe? Was he out of time? By the calculations on the Swagger Soaring Eagle’s on-board navigation system (his iPhone), Jack knew that the final descent shaft was only 40 miles north. He could be there any minute. God help him and what he would find.
Swagger turned sharply, kicking up sand and shooting his vessel north. In the dust lay a long-abandoned package of astronaut ice cream, shifting just enough to spill a dozen baby serpents from its plastic insides. By the time those grubs saw starlight, Jack was miles away.
General Mason Ryan’s eyes opened as he heard a radar blip on his command center’s massive communication screen. “sat then.”
“Sir!” yelped one of the general’s subordinates. “It’s the Swagger Soaring Eagle!”
Ceraunius Tholus lit up with chatter. The one thing that could theoretically stop them from overpowering the descent shaft’s security, bursting through the control center and lowering the entire United Nations World Army into Hellas to claim the lives and goods of the wretched Martians within was speeding toward them, its eyes thinning, its arms ready to point, push-up and cause fireworks.
“Ready to receive orders, General.”
General Ryan thought about it for as long as he could, which was like four seconds because his brain was the size of a walnut. His eyes darted toward his chief artillery specialist.
“Sir, are you sure?”
“dwit eh sed.”
The artillery chief knew his orders. Within minutes, the Batista Bomb was loaded and ready to be fired. General Ryan rose to a vista point at the top of Ceraunius Tholus as the soldiers huddled below, hoping to catch a glimpse of the great explosion. With thoughts of his wife and children in his mind, the chief pretended to fire a big machine gun, then pretended to throw a grenade, bringing his hand down on the “fire” button. The bomb shot through the air.
“Siri, how far am I from the great thitty of Hellath on Marth?” said Jack, kinda holding his phone out in front of his face.
“I can’t quite get that. Would you like me to do a web search for ‘am I from the great thirty of health on Mars’?” replied Siri.
“Uh, HULLO?” said Jack, tossing the phone over his shoulder. He’d find out himself in a moment.
As the phone landed, so did the Batista Bomb, twenty feet behind the Swagger Soaring Eagle. The explosion could be seen across the valley, and heard throughout the world.
Worst: Pretty Cool Of Kid Rock To Finally Record A Patriotic Anthem
No pussy, no dope. This ain’t Saigon!
But keep your heads up for roadside bombs.
Good advice. And man, I’m glad this song was finally released. I’ve been waiting since 1997 for Kid Rock to release a song explaining where he stands on the issue of “America”.
USA Guy, we may have found your entrance theme.
Best: Ricardo Rodriguez Being Adorable On Commentary
I’m so unbelievably happy that most of Ricardo Rodriguez’s color commentary made the match video. There may not be a character whose well-being I care about more than Ricardo, and listening to him nervously speak Spanish before translating it to something incredibly simple (“he’s STRETCHING him!”), go “comeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon” to will Del Rio to his feet before Kingston’s moves and his hilarious, totally accurate burn on Kofi’s offense (“it’s just about the setup, he’s gonna be fine!”) were all outstanding. Also, props to JR for using an actual Spanish word when talking to Ricardo instead of just going “bomb-o drop-o” like apparently-just-out-of-middle-school Michael Cole.
Also great: Ricardo’s insistence that Kofi was cheating because he was using the ropes (which is technically accurate … you aren’t supposed to use the ropes, that’s why the referee counts to five when you climb to the top) and that ADR had “three people” against him — Kofi, R-Truth (who was doing literally nothing) and Little Jimmy (who does not exist). Del Rio wins, and Ricardo is instantly happy again, bragging about how he did it against the odds and launching right into his victory announcement. I love you, Ricardo Rodriguez.
And while I’m writing about it, one of the things I like the most about Ricardo is the beautiful way in which he says “Alberto Del Rio”. Not the big ALBERTOOOOOOOOOOOOO one, the casual one, where he says “Alberto Del Rio” like a native speaker of the language would, as one quick word. It’s something I wish I could do. My friend Ari of the DESPERATELY IN NEED OF UPDATING Feminist Pro Wrestling Tumblr says it the same way. My southern ass is all AL-BIRDO DULL ROW.
Best: The Way Del Rio Locked In The Armbreaker
Instead of spinning around gracefully into the hold like he was probably supposed to, Del Rio flipped awkwardly and ended up snapping Kofi’s arm back at the shoulder. It looked absolutely killer that way, and man, if Kofi had pecs they would’ve gotten ripped in half.
Best: REAL MEN Stay At Home And Are Not On Raw
John Cena wasn’t on Raw. Did you miss him at all? It felt like we had a cool substitute teacher who let us move our desks into a circle instead of following the lesson plan, which I’m guessing was
a. tell crowd you are aware that some of them hate you and some of them don’t and how that’s okay
b. challenge someone to a fight RIGHT HERE TONIGHT
c. get put into a tag team match
d. win tag team match easily
e. challenge someone to a match later, be frat guy emo about it
f. gay joke
g. gay joke
h. record PSA about how gays are people too
i. market “gay people are terrible” headbands for children
…with “DO THIS LESSON EVERY CLASS FOREVER” at the bottom in pink Sharpie.