Signal Panic, Inc. Presents
Action Saxton & Saboteur
in
"Flying Solo!"
The local McRonald's (Home of the Triple Double Bacon Cheeseburger:
If You Don't Die, We Cooked It Wrong!™) is packed. The unswept floors, caked with the dirt of many feet, only got dirtier as hungry customers walked to and fro, getting their special sauces, straws, hamburgers, fries, and shakes. The lines leading to the cashiers seemed to be getting longer by the second. And smack-dab in the middle of one of the longest lines are
Action Saxton and
Saboteur. Our heroes seem to be engaged in a very interesting and important conversation. What could it be about? Religion? Politics? Environmental issues? Philosophy?
"
The Big Stac is way better than the Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese!" Saboteur exclaims. "
It’s got secret sauce on it!"
Action Saxton shakes his head.
"
Action Saxton don’t want all dat sauce and lettuce and funky junk," he says. "
I want me a burger, some cheese, and enough catsup to drown a miniature army of catsup-adverse soldiers!"
Saboteur crosses his arms. "
That’s ridiculous! The Big Stac is the penultimate combination of flavors resulting in what can only be described as a flavor orgasm in your mouth."
Saxton sighs and shakes his head. He points to a conveniently-placed map of France on the McRonald's wall.
"
Do you know what they call a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese in France?" he asks. When Saboteur doesn't respond, he continues. "
A Royale with Cheese, because it’s so good it’s practically royalty!"
In the middle of their bickering, the two friends realize that their conversation is not completely private. Slowly, they turn to
the customer in front of them, who is staring at them. He tips his hat.
"
I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today!"
Saboteur shoves the man out of the way and makes his way to the register.
"
Get out the way, wimpy," he says, "
we got some burgers to order!"
The duo walks up to
the cashier, a pimply youth with dreadlocks and a white hat.
"
Welcome to the McRonald’s, home of the McRonald’s, can I take your order?"
"
Say," Saxton says, "
aren’t you the sucka that used to work at that burger joint that was all that in the 90s?"
"
Duuuuuude," the cashier says, staring into space and giggling, "
that was like, soooo long ago."
"
Whatever, we gon’ take 20 Double Quarter Pounders with Cheese."
"
Like heck we are!" says Saboteur, "
Change that to 20 Big Stacs with extra special sauce."
"
Okay, so 20 Double Quarter Pounders with Cheese and 20 Big Stacs…"
No, sucka!" barks Saxton, "
we just want 20 Double Quarter Pounders!"
"
No, 20 Big Stacs!" interjects Saboteur.
"
Okay… so like, 40 fish fillets?"
Saxton throws up his hands. "
Maaaaan, forget this sucka. Let’s go to the other guy."
Saboteur shoves yet another customer out of the way and the hungry duo once again tries to place their order with
the other cashier.
"
Hi," he says, "
we’ll have…"
"
Cheese burger cheese burger cheese burger PEPSI cheese burger cheese burger cheese burger FRIES cheese burger…"
Saboteur looks at the cashier with a raised eyebrow, and then at Saxton. "
Uh, I think this guy had a stroke…" he says.
"
How come he’s allowed to say Pepsi but when I say Fanta on WZCW television it gets bleeped out?" Saxton grunts.
"
Because we have a sponsorship deal with Pepsi Co.," Saboteur replies. "
Much like Pepsi, we are the choice of a new generation."
He smiles and gives the camera a thumbs up. Saxton is not impressed.
"
Whatever, sucka, we ain’t getting any burgers here. Let’s just roll out this joint."
Saxton and Saboteur start to leave, but a large man with an even larger trenchcoat slides up next to them. He speaks in a very soft voice so as not to be overheard.
"
Yo," the shady man mutters. "
You boys lookin’ for some burgers?"
"
No, we came to McRonald’s for their gourmet pasta dishes," Saboteur says, presumably rolling his eyes. "
Of course we want burgers!"
The man smiles and nods.
"
Well I gots the patties that make you batty. I got the cheese that makes you squeeze. I got the buns that make you run. I got the burgers that…" He pauses, thinking, before shaking his head slightly. "
Well… I just got burgers."
"
So what, sucka, you just buy burgers at the counter and then sell them off at a marked up price since the service here is about as bad as Armando Paradyse’s new smooth jazz album: Armando in Paradyse?"
"
Nah man, I’ve got the hookup in the kitchen with Peter Pepper."
The vendor points to the burger chef behind the counter as the chef jumps from ingredient to ingredient to create burgers.
"
That’s gotta be a health code violation…" Saboteur says.
"
So what’s it gonna be man, you want these burgers?"
"
Sure," Saxton says, "
we’ll take 20 Double Quarter Pounders with Cheese."
"
No…" says Saboteur, "
we’ll take 20 Big Stacs!"
"
Double Quarter Pounders!"
"
Big Stacs!"
Saxton Tower!"
Saboteur Tower!"
The Cheeseburger Vendor slinks away as Saxton and Saboteur continue to bicker. Saxton pounds a fist into a wall.
"
You know," he says, "
I’ve had it about up to here with your 'my way or the highway' bologna!"
"
Well if that isn’t the black calling pot a kettle!" gasps Saboteur.
Saxton glares at Saboteur. "
You know what, fool, I’m done with you!" he barks. "
I’ll see you during our title shot."
"
Not if I see you first, jerk!"
Saboteur kicks open the door to the McRonald’s and storms out of the restaurant. As he walks out, a
small cat walks in and approaches Saxton.
"
I can haz cheezburger?" the cat asks.
Saxton throws his hands in the air in disbelief.
"
What the Fanta is up with this joint?"
----
Across the street from Saxton/Saboteur Tower,
Marceline is hard at work serving the regular patrons of her diner/bar, The Paper Gangster. The place has a healthy amount of people in it, all eating their favorite lunches, some chatting amiably amongst themselves, others arguing, and still others sitting alone.
"
You got the callback?" she asks
the kid in sunglasses at the bar. The kid smiles and nods. "
That's wonderful!"
"
Won't be for a few weeks, but I can't wait," he says. "
Big things, Marceline. Big things."
A loud crash distracts the two from their conversation. Marceline looks over to the door, smiling widely as her best friend makes his customary boisterous entrance. Action Saxton, followed closely behind by his agent
Jerry Fogel, walks up to the bar, tries to pull out a stool, and instead winds up with a fistful of cushion. He glares at the seat with daggers in his eyes before putting it back on the metal frame and taking a seat. Jerry gingerly takes the one next to him.
"
Sax!" Marceline says. "
You look down in the dumps! What happened to you?"
"
That sucka Saboteur happened!" barks Saxton.
"
C'mon, Sax-on-the-Beach, it isn't that bad!" Jerry reassures him. "
I know you guys fought, and the game of Laser Tag you just had was pretty lame, but you can't let it get you down!"
Marceline groans. "
They fought again?"
"
Couldn't tell you what about," mutters Jerry to Marceline, "
but it's got Sax-Pack Abs here pretty steamed."
"
Sucka, I can hear you!" says Saxton. "
All Action Saxtons were born with 20/20 hearing!"
"
Sorry."
"
Now listen up, Marceline, this ain't like any of the other times we fought! Their ain't no going back on this one! He said some very unkind things, and some false things, and I don't know if I can team with someone like him!"
"
Hey, hey, hold on, buddy!" Jerry says, chuckling and holding up a hand. Marceline rolls her eyes and goes to fetch the coffee. "
Yeah, Saxy Boy, Sax-On-Phonics, Saxtorama, that Saboteur may be a Sab-boner, but that doesn't mean you guys can't team!"
"
Yeah it does, sucka!" Saxton says. "
If there is one thing that Action Saxton does not do, it is team with- What the hell did you just call him?"
"
A Sab-boner," Jerry replies.
"
Yeah, and Sab-Boner's ain't on my 'to-team-with' list."
Jerry shakes his head. "
Look, Saxmo, let's get us some grub." He turns to Marceline, who has poured three cups of coffee. She turns to give the third to the kid, but he's vanished.
"
So, what would you boys like?" she asks. "
The usual, Sax?"
He nods. Jerry stabs a finger into the air.
"
Listen, missy, I want a filet mignon, bacon-wrapped, a romaine salad, and a glass of Merlot."
"
You'll get a bacon burger with extra lettuce and some grape juice."
"
Deal."
Marceline walks off to prepare the food. Jerry turns back to Saxton, who is still glaring into his cup of strong, black coffee.
"
Look, Anglo-Saxton," he says, "
you can't hate the guy just because he likes sauce-"
"
It ain't even about that, sucka!" barks Saxton. Jerry flinches. "
It's about how that sucka thinks he's so much better than me, always winning matches in his goofy-ass spandex and beating up dinosaurs and taking all the damn credit for our tag team."
"
Yeah, that guy's the worst!" says Jerry enthusiastically. "
Totally! But you can't call off the team just because he's in denial that you're better-looking than him and have bigger muscles and more fans!"
"
If that goofy-ass sucka ain't gonna listen to me-"
"
You'll make him listen!" Jerry interjects. "
C'mon, Sax-Tons-of-Women, you got a match coming up against The Beard, right? Of course you do, I got it for you."
"
Yeah," Saxton responds. He takes a heavy sip of his coffee.
"
Yeah, so, what you gotta do for that is win," Jerry says. "
turn his beard weird! Pin him to the mat just like that! Make him slip on a banana peel! You know what I'm saying!"
Saxton nods. "
Hell yeah I know what you're saying. I don't need no goofy-ass partner to help me out here."
"
Right! And once you've won, you guys can team up again and win that match, right?"
"
No."
"
No?"
"
No," says Saxton. "
I told you, I ain't teamin' with no boners!"
Jerry sighs in frustration. "
Do I need to get the finger puppets out again?"
"
The what?"
"
The- Nevermind, just listen to me, man. You liked being a champion, right?"
"
Yeah."
"
And you liked winning, right?"
"
Yeah."
"
So what you two have to do is put aside your differences and become tag team champions again, and the only way you're going to do that is to have Beard and Gent's numbers, am I right?"
"
That sounds pretty right to me, sucka."
"
Great! So drink your coffee and think about beating Weird Beard and teaming with Saboteur! He's a talented guy, and you guys as a team? Money!"
Action Saxton glares at Jerry through narrowed eyes. "
I thought you just said he wasn't that good."
"
Uh, I meant, uh, metaphorically! Yeah!" jerry stammers. "
You know, uh, in comparison...I mean, you're the strong link of the team, right?"
"
Order up!" Marceline interrupts, placing a delicious-looking burger in front of Jerry and a thick steak in front of Saxton. "
So what seems to be the problem, boys?"
"
BallSax and Saboner had a little tiffy-wiffy about hamburgers-"
"
I told you it wasn't about that, sucka!" barks Saxton. "
That fool Saboteur likes Big Stacs over Double Quarter Pounders, and I don't think any man who likes Big Stacs can be a good tag team partner! Damn, sucka, you do a hell of a lot of talking, but no listening!"
Marceline looks from Jerry to Saxton, from Saxton to Jerry. Slowly, she smiles.
"
Sax," she says, "
do I have to do my speech about the great times you guys have had together again?"
"
Aw hell, Marce," says Saxton, cutting into his steak, "
you can't tell me I've had any good times with that fool."
Marceline rolls her eyes. "
Okay, fine, I won't say it again. Tell me who you're facing this week."
"
The Beard."
"
Cool name."
"
For one cool cat, Marce. Damn, if I had known better, I would have joined those Bearded Gentlemen suckas. They know how to break it down. That Beard is one mean m'sucka, hittin' harder than the rest of them and tougher than leather."
"
So you're going to take him on by yourself?"
"
Damn right!" Saxton says. "
I'm going to show Saboteur how the real man of the team works by taking Beard's strong ass down. I've faced big men before and I've kicked their asses, so I don't see how another one can stand in my way. He may have luxurious facial hair and a refined taste in literature, but when it comes to sheer ass-kicking and laying the smackdown, there are none better than Action Saxton!"
"
So it'll kinda suck when he pins you."
Action Saxton, who was about to form another exciting speech about himself, stops. He stares at Marceline, his expression getting angrier and angrier.
"
Just what the hell," he says slowly, "
are you tryin' to say?"
Marceline giggles, unpreturbed by Saxton's dark expression. Jerry, meanwhile, has ducked under his barstool.
"
I'm just saying, Sax," she says, "
that going into the match like this is a surefire way to get your ass kicked. Do you think Beard's out there right now being angry about something his partner might have done, or wondering if they're going to the WZCW Ball together?"
"
Sucka, I don't think they're-"
"
And I don't think you've been thinking this through. Of course Beard isn't out there worrying about his partner, because I'm betting you he and his partner aren't having arguments all the time! I'm betting he and his partner whenever they get mad remember the good times so they can continue to be partners. And I'm betting right now he's focused on one thing, and that's taking you out, and then pinning you again to win the tag team championships."
Marceline looks over the bar at the quivering form of Jerry under a barstool.
"
C'mon out, you," she says. "
I keep the floor clean, but that doesn't mean you won't ruin your suit if you're not careful."
Quivering, Jerry climbs onto the barstool. Marceline turns to Saxton again.
"
Look, Sax," she says, "
I'm not going to tell you to remember the good times again, but if you don't focus on what's really important, you'll get smacked. Stop being stupid, focus on your opponent and not some argument, and come back to this place with some of your stories to tell. You know I love your stories."
Action Saxton finishes his coffee as Marceline falls silent. He starts to speak, stops, and starts again.
"
Dammit, Marce," he says finally, "
you always manage to make me speechless."
Marceline giggles. "
It's a gift."
Action Saxton leans against the bar. "
Anyway, you're right, you're damn right. Beard ain't sittin' around. Beard ain't fightin' his partner over some damn hamburgers. Saboteur and I, we're a damn good team, and we'll always be a damn good team, even if we don't see eye-to-eye on some things. But this week, it ain't about teaming."
He eats a chunk of steak and continues.
"
That Beard sucka is one tough customer. He's a mountain, a big hairy mountain with a very descriptive name. I mean, when's the last time you saw a mountain with a name like that? Who the hell is St. Helens?
But anyway, that sucka may have the power, but I have power of my own, and I back it up with the finest damn technique WZCW has ever seen. Master Chop Onion taught me well, he taught me how to strike hard and fast with furious feet and flying fingers, with chops that make you stop and ways to pound you into the ground. I can jump, pose, turn, and duck, and I can punch, kick, chop, and block. Beard may think he's prepared, but when you step into the ring with the Badass Brother, ain't no one prepared for what I bring to the table.
It don't matter if you're a mountain of a man, a really fat ninja, a dinosaur, a gentleman thief, some crazy hopped up preacher, or my own damn grandmother. Once you are on the other side of the ring from me, you are my enemy, and I will not hesitate to hit you as hard and fast as possible."
Action Saxton stands up.
"
Marce," he says, "
you have opened my eyes to the truth, to let me know that I should be fighting for myself and worrying about myself, but that I should also not let things like hamburger arguments get in the way of the best damn tag team in WZCW gaining the tag team championships for a second time. For that, I thank you."
"
It's my pleasure, Sax," says Marceline, smiling. "
Just be sure to bring him around next time you stop here for stories and drinks."
Action Saxton retrieves his wallet from his back pocket and puts some bills on the table. He walks up to the front door, pulling Jerry along with him. He yanks the door open and yells at the cold street.
"
Beard, you jive-ass hairy-ass goofy-ass sucka!" he says. "
I don't know if you can hear me, but you better prepare yourself! I'm comin' for you, sucka!
And Saboteur, get your ass to Saxton Tower so we can discuss strategy!"
From far off in the distance, a muffled voice on the wind says "
It's Saboteur Tower!", but Saxton doesn't notice it as he walks across the street to the skyscraper he calls home.
