Ah, Creative Innocence...
This is a story that I started when I was younger - some time in middle school, I think. Anyway, it's a giggle. I didn't fix typos or anything. Hopefully it'll make you smile.
(Observe the graphical stylings of Lotus Works circa 386 MHz)
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Maximum Capacity
Written and Illustrated by:
(Don't ask me where the illustrations are...)
J. E. Fashbaugh
1
"Good morning sir."
"Good morning to you too, Murphy, how's it goin' ?" greeted Chief Sesko jollily.
"Got anything for me to do out on those dangerous streets?" Sarcasm being Tuck's specialty.
"Sorry, Murphy. you'll have to wait for an emergency call. ", Quimbly answered.
"OOo yeah, that's the way I like 'em, nice'n fresh", Tuck said.
Tuck strolled down the hall, giving an occasional high-five. He walked into the briefing room and took his seat next to Officer Joseph McKenzie. Tuck set his hat on the table. The chief entered and began his morning speech. "Be careful out there." were always his final words of the briefing.
Tuck Murphy was a young who had been on the Chicago Police Departement for two years. He was a happy bachelor that lived all alone in his three bedroom apartment. He went to church every Sunday and was a member of the YMCA. Tuck had found an amazing woman; a beautiful, brunette Chicago girl he had met at the acadamy. Her name fit her wonderful face, Tera. He was going to go out with her on Friday.
He was eating lunch when a piercing, high pitched noise sounded from under his coat. He picked up his sandwich and drink and went to his car. He radioed headquarters. A robbery in progress at the Firstbank on Fourth avenue and McGregor street.
As Tuck arrived he had to duck behind the car so he wouldn't get his head blown off! His car was showered by machine gun fire. As the guy with the uzi was reloading, Tuck leaped onto the car and cocked his pump action shotgun and shouted, "FREEZE SCUM!!!!" The assailant pulled out a concealed handgun. Tuck had no choice. In a split-second decision he blasted him with a burst of shotgun bullets that flew out of the shotgun shell. The man was thrown backward by the shot and crashed through one of the bank's windows. Glass fell to the ground, shattering. Tuck threw the door to the bank open, "Freeze"! Two men turn and began to shoot at Tuck. He leaped behind an automatic teller. The machine was consumed by bullets. The screen exploded and sparks flew everywhere. Stray bullets smashed the window behind the teller. Tuck screeched in agonizing pain.! His hands were being torn by the glass falling on him. "That's it", he said to himself. He jumped up, pieces of glass flew off his trench coat. With two bursts of shotgun fire the two men that had fired at Tuck were now squirming on the floor. Tuck seemed to have miss placed their knee caps. "OOPS!", Tuck said sarcastically. "Now does anybody else want to sit in a Wheel chair for the rest of their lives," he questioned in furious tone of voice. Suddenly a man with a robotic arm came out of the huge safe.
He stared with the combination of what looked like a camera lense and a human eye. "Good day, officer. My name is Strauss. Perhaps you've-... no perhaps you haven't. Well, sorry about the bank, but I've got bills to pay. Tootalu!", he pulled a cylindrical tube from his arm and through it at the floor. A thick cloud of smoke rose from the small puddle of liquid. A voice spoke, "Destiny beckons us together and you shall die." When the smoke cleared there was no trace of him or his men.
5 minutes later two squad cars arrived at the scene Tuck's hands were bandaged and the cut on his face were stitched. He then returned to the station.
"Murphy, how on Earth do you always manage to get into this crap! There's A simple bank robbery and you somehow find a way to turn it into World War 3!"
"But Chief, I'm dealing with a freaking criminal master mind here. He said something about a robotic army this guy is physco and....", Tuck said trying to explain but he was interrupted by Chief Quimbly.
"I don't want to here your blasted excuses officer Murphy! Shooting off the perpetrator's knee cap is inexcusable. I've warned you about this before. This happens every time but this is the last. Murphy your my friend and I hate to do this but it's my duty as Chief of police. I'm sorry Murphy your fired. You may turn in your badge, uniform, the keys to the squad car, and your gun and belt to the front desk. Anything else can be returned in the morning. Your now an ordinary citizen," he said with a touch of pityful regret. He then called for officer Mckenzie, "Mckenzie, escort this civilian home."
"But Chief this isn't a civilian it's-, " Mckenzie blurted in confusion.
He was interrupted by Chief Quimbly's shouting, "That's an order! On the double! Move it, Move it!" Mckenzie took Tuck by the arm. Tuck dropped his things off at the front desk and they then headed for the squad car.
"Tuck what's going on ?," Mckenzie asked distressed by what was taking place. Tuck didn't answer.
Silence prevailed over the interior of the car. On the way to Tucks apartment complex, it had been a stressful five minutes since anyone had said a word. Tuck decided to tell Mckenzie what was happening, he owed him that much. "I was fired."
"What did ya say ?," Mckenzie asked not hearing Tuck because Tuck was either talking under his breath or because Mckenzie didn't want to hear what Murphy had to say.
"I said, `I was fired!'?"
"Hey, man chill I was just asking, O.K.!" Mckenzie said ofended by the way , his good friend, Tuck had treated him.
"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm being fired when I was just doing my job. Besides their drugees. They're to busy killing off brain cells to care about their knee caps ", Tuck murphy said in great frustration. They reached Tuck's apartment.
"Well, it'll work out." Mckenzie suggested.
"I sure hope so.", Tuck said, nervous of the situation's outcome. He went into his apartment and plumped himself down on his soft, courderoy, purple couch. He picked up the reciever of his phone and picked up Tera's photograph. His fingeres caressed her face a tear trickled down his cheak. Maybe, just maybe Tera could fill the gap in his life left by his job.
"Hello", Tera answered almost questioning the phone.
"Hi", Tuck replied, "it's Tuck. Tuck's voice was wavering. Emotional was the only way to describe the man acting as a child. It wasn't all his falt he had just had the worst day a person could possibly have.
"What's wrong?," Tera asked with great urgency.
"I lost my job.," Tuck said, ashamed of himself.
"That's terrible. Quimbly was your friend, why on earth would he fire you?," Tera question to find the sense in fireing whom she considered the best police man San Diego.
"Quimbly thought that I was overacting for simple assignments. So he fired me. He'd warned me.....I blew it. I guess I had it coming.
(Quimbly...sounds a lot like Quimby, as in Inspector Gadget's Chief Quimby....HAha!)
2
Chimes rang out a happy song as Tuck walked through the doorway of his father's hardware store. His mother and father had been seperated since he was ten and his father, with the experience of carpentry, opened the store to support himself and pay the alamoney. Tuck greeted his father with love and they hugged as if they hadn't seen each other for years. Tuck told his father about his job. His Dad was a little disgusted but showed compassion and understanding. The chimes rang out again. "Good morning Bob! How are you on this fine summer day?", and elderly man asked.
"I feel like a million bucks! Buisness is booming too.", Tuck's father said cheerily to what sounded like to be a regular customer. "What can I get for you?"
"I'm adding on a new addition to my house. I'll need afew supplies and materials for the job. I can find everything, thank you.
As the old man, renovater putted around the store, tossing this and that into his shopping basket without the disgression of price or brand name, Tuck and his father talked some more. His father related his girlfiend and Tuck drifted into thought about Tera. For awhile there was silence then ,"Excuse me sonny", the renovater said as he butted in on Tucks day dreaming and slammed two full blue shopping bashets on the counter, "Will ya watch these for me Bob? I gotta get the plumbing and electrical supplies." he said giggling with excitement and then he had a thought that seemed to some how inspire him with an idea of ultimate shopping opportunities. "Say...Do you sell lumber here?"
"No."
"What kind of store is this?!" he blurrted excitedly, his bubble of opportunity bursted, "You can't have a HARDWARE store without lumber! I mean; Come ON!" and on and on he gripe at Mr.Murphy. Tuck waved at his father. Mr.Murphy caught sight of this.
"Good-bye son. Have a good day."
a
"Bob are you listening to me? Costumers like me should be important to you." Tuck hurried out before it got ugly. Tuck walked down the sunny downtown streets smiling.
"The schmuk just came outta da shop boss. Whata ya want me ta do? You wants I should kill 'em?" Tuck was being watched by a bumbling idiot of a gangster fellow. Sitting a beat-up old Ford, he watched Tuck for two days. He related evrything to his "Boss". He watched Tuck eat, sleep, and grocery shop. What the fool known as Bubba didn't know was that Tuck had noticed.
Tuck was once again going to his friendly neighborhood Little Store to get milk and a pack of Camels, he had been trying to quit for several years now, but to no avail. The day had been uneventfull
as ever, and on days like these, Tuck enjoyed lying around the house, smoking his camels and watching anything that came on channel 13.
He entered the store and the bells hung above the doorway rang out a familiar jingle. He walked over to the fridges and pick out a carton of one percent milk. As he turned around he saw a man in a pinstriped suit that looked strangely familiar to him. "Where have I seen that character before?" he asked himself. Tuck grabbed the eggs and a couple other things. He bought a butaine lighter and the ciggarettes he promised himself he wouldn't buy and then proceeded to leave. As he exited he noticed the man drop the can of soup he had been interogating and began to follow Tuck out. "We'll see what this is about", Tuck thought.
Tuck got into his oldsmobile and drove rather quickly out of the parking lot. His tires squeeled, just barely griping the pavement as Tuck rounded the corner. The mysterious Ford ensued in much of the same manor. Both vehicles had long since broken the speed limit now.
Tuck led the on a chase that even the Dukes of Hazard couldn't hope to live up to. Tuck brought the goons to an old junkyard that had been abandon years ago. They were looking for trouble from the first day they had started to follow him and now Tuck was going to help them find it. Tuck screached his car to a stop and resumed the race on foot as he sprinted into the yard of trashed cars and scrap metal.
The pinstripe clad man stepped out of the passenger seat. Out of the drivers side came a crazy eyed blackman with a baseball bat. The back seats yeilded two ordinary looking men. On the right an all American looking blondy with shoulder length hair and bugleboy attiare. The man on the the left was one of the brotherhood of Harley Davidson. He was a cross-eyed, ruffian with firey red hair on his lumpy head and from neck to toe he was covered with leather. The only thing this rag tag band of hoodlums had in common were gloves. Each had at least one glove covered hand. All four slammed the car doors, armed themselves, and began their search.
Tuck had hid in one of the many shells of a car. He waited in the old, blue Buick and before long he heard somone comeing. He kick the slightly open door into the gut of the seekers. Tuck rolled out of the car and faced his opponent. In front of him sprawled on the ground was a bloody nosed teenager. He was of oriental descent of some kind. "What the Hell is going on? And what are you doing here?" the boy rightfuly questioned.
"I'm sorry, I, I, well" Tuck sputtered, "I Thought you were someone else."
"Who!?" the young man asked.
"I don't know.", Tuck said explaining nonsense. The boy made a confused face. " Just get outta here!"
"Hey, YOUR the one on MY turf. You leave.", The kid reasoned.
Tuck flashed back to his years as a young teen in the streets of Mineapolis. He was a member of a small gang of amateur punks. He got hot headed when anyone tread on his gang's block. Tuck was brought back to the present in mid-sentence. "Look kid, I understand your situation but these people are -", he was interuppted by a loud explosion followed by the shattering of the rear window of the Buick.
Tuck's head whirled in the direction of the blast. The blond man stood like casualy clothed hunter ready to execute his prey.
In a British voice he taunted, "Are you going to make this easy or are you going to-".
Tuck interuppted this time yelling, "Run!" The kid ran through a whole in the rubble and Tuck followed. The passage ended on the other side of the pile. As Tuck exited a cloud of buckshot blasted the cardoor he had just passsed. He again instructed, "Run!" Tuck climbed above the tunnels exit and pounced on the man as he came out.
The Junkyard Kid, who had not heeded warning, nearly got his head blown off by the accidental shot.

