Signal Panic, Inc. Presents
Action Saxton & Saboteur
[size=-3]& Krypto, I Guess[/size]
in
"A Story of Toys"
"You."
Saboteur stares down his archnemesis with a fixed glare. A cold wind blows through Pizza Planet as the two stand face-to-face, on either side of the restaurant.
"For six years, I've come to this place, and for six years, you've mocked me. To think of the time I've lost here, the pride that you have wounded, the money I've squandered on you makes me sick. If you had any decency, you would leave and never come back. If you had any pride, you would march right out of this restaurant. Because today..."
He withdraws a quarter from an unseen pocket in his jumpsuit.
"Today is the day I finally conquer you, and get one of your little squishy green alien plushes for myself."
Saboteur marches up to the crane game with purpose, saring at the collection of little green alien toys inside. They appear to stare back, their three eyes each piercing and plastic. With purpose, Saboteur bends down to the machine's coin slot, and places a quarter in.
With a whir and a beep, the machine comes to life. Saboteur's hand tightly grips the lever, his thumb hovering over the big red button on top, but his concentration is on one thing and one thing only: The claw. He expertly moves it up and down, from left-to-right, waiting like a snake in your boot for the perfect opportunity to strike.
And when he strikes, he strikes faster than a can of pepper spray to Armando Paradyse's eyes. The claw moves slowly, torturously downwards, the beads of sweat running down Saboteur's head moving quicker than the sharp metal objects descent into fluffiness. When it reaches the aliens, it stops. It whirs. It closes. And slowly, very slowly, it begins to move back upwards, taking an alien with it.
"Yes!" exclaims Saboteur, pumping a fist in the air. He leans against the glass, watching the claw's slow progress towards the slot. "C'mon...Come to Saboteur..."
The claw does not speed up as it hears Saboteur's pleading cry. In fact, it seems to slow down. As a matter of fact, it seems to hve completely stopped. With a loud noise, the machine shuts down completely, its lights turning off with a snap.
"Hey!"
Saboteur pounds the glass in frustration. Withdrawing a katana, he measures up to the machine, a look of cold fury on his face. Before he can cut it into tiny bits, however, he is stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Let it go, sucka," says Action Saxton to his friend. "One day, you will get your goofy alien thing, and all will be right with this world."
"I was this close," Saboteur says. "This close! When I find out who robbed me of my alien, I'm going to cut them-"
"You must allow my people to live at peace in their natural habitat."
Saboteur stops ranting, and he and Saxton slowly turn around to see Krypto holding the plug to the crane game.
"What the hell, sucka?!" roars Action Saxton, ripping his shirt off to reveal another shirt underneath. "You just stole my boy Saboteur's chance at happiness by taking his little alien thing away from him at the last minute!"
"My people must not be disturbed," insists Krypto.
"We'll see how disturbed they are when I put my size 12 boot up your extraterrestrial ass!"
Krypto looks slightly apologetic. It's Saboteur's turn to place a hand on his angry tag partner's shoulder.
"Calm, Saxton," he says. "He knows not what he does. Once we get our pizza, all will be right with the world."
He glances from side-to-side before whispering into Action Saxton's ear.
"Let's try and lock him in the fridge before we leave."
Action Saxton nods, and the three wrestlers make their way to a table. A pimply waiter delivers their pizza, and Action Saxton and Saboteur dig in with gusto. Krypto awkwardly pokes at the pizza, unsure of what to make of this Earth delicacy.
"It's pizza, sucka. Eat it."
Krypto does not. As he continues to poke the pizza, talk between Action Saxton and Saboteur turns to their match.
"Okay, sucka, I've been thinking hard about our upcoming tag team match," says Saxton through a mouthful of pizza. "Now, you and I are the tag team champions. We have something that those suckas don't."
"Gold belts?" Saboteur asks.
"Yes."
"An ali- Wait, did you say yes?"
Saboteur stares at Saxton, who nods.
"Damn right I said yes. You and me, sucka, we got some damn fine belts that paint us as the best damn team in the company. They also do one hell of a job keeping my pants around my fine hips."
Saxton lifts up his shirt to reveal that he is currently wearing his WZCW Tag Team Championship. He continues speaking, taking another bite of pizza.
"Now, together, we are a dominant force in any division. Speed, strength, personality, you and I both know that. But most of all, sucka, we have-"
"An alien."
"No! Yes. But no. Sucka, we have chemistry."
Saxton lets the word roll around his tongue before it hangs impressively in the air. Saboteur nods.
"You're right," he says. "Teamwork. We've teamed together way more than Constantine and Matt Tastic have. And we've won more matches together, too!"
"Exactly, sucka. We have big gold belts. What the hell do they have? Name one thing Constantine has that we do not."
"A mysterious and slightly sinister briefcase that can guarantee him a championship match and may be the source of all of his powers?"
Saxton stares at Saboteur.
"You jive-ass motha, I did not think of that."
Saboteur presses a finger to the temple.
"Luckily," he says, "I did. Now, I've been doing some observing on Constantine, and I've come to the conclusion that that King For A Day briefcase contains a great power that can help us win the match if we were to obtain it, or at least help him lose. And it also comes with the bonus of giving one of us a world championship match!"
Action Saxton nods his head.
"Some fine observing, sucka," he says. "I have noticed that Constantine's moustache has been getting rather thick lately. Clearly it is a side effect of the power he is gaining from that briefcase. We need to take it from him."
"Back on my planet," Krypto pipes up, "we had an intergalactic entity known as Xenu who took the form of a sentient moustache. Perhaps Constantine has merely been possessed by Xenu."
Saxton thinks for a moment, before shaking his head.
"Nah, sucka, that's cray talk. It's clearly the briefcase."
"And luckily for us, Constantine left his briefcase abandoned and ripe for the taking!"
Action Saxton fixes his gaze on Saboteur in excitement. "Where is the briefcase now?"
Instead of speaking, Saboteur grandly gestures out of the window, to the Pizza Planet delivery truck. Action Saxton stares out of the window for a moment before turning back to his friend.
"And how the hell are we supposed to get the keys to the truck?"
Saboteur folds his arms.
"Don't worry, Saxton," he says. "I have a plan."
----
"Ey! It's-a-me! The new-a pizza delivery-a man, along-a with-a my buddies! We're an old Italian family, eh?"
The manager stares at the three people standing outside his office. One is tall. One is medium. One is short. All three of them are dressed in ill-fitting Pizza Planet uniforms. The one in spandex is expertly twirling a pizza box with one hand and expertly twirling his gigantic curly moustache with the other. The large black man is wearing a uniform about three sizes too small, and keeps adjusting his hat. The tiny one is a man in an alien costume.
The manager clears his throat.
"I see you already have your uniforms," he says. "Tell me, is this your first day?"
Saboteur nods. "Si, Baroni. We were a-hired a-earlier last-a week-a and they took one look-a at-a my resume and said-a that I was the man-a for the job-a. I have experience-a in pizzas-a. Back-a in the Old Country they-a called me Saucy Stefano! That's-a because-a my name is Stefano, and I was good-a with the sauce-a!"
The manager nods. He turns to Action Saxton.
"And you? What were you hired to do?"
"Sucka, I can answer the phones like nobody's business," Saxton responds. "Back in the Old Country, they used to call me Long-Distance Luigi. That's because my smooth-as-butter voice and my impeccable ordering skills got all the customers from around the country, and because my name is Luigi."
The manager nods again. He turns to Krypto.
"And you? Who are you supposed to be?"
"I am Krypto!" Krypto boldly states. Action Saxton and Saboteur stare at him in a panic, but it does nothing to dissuade him. "I am an alien sent here to discover Earth's culture and to wrestle for the promotion WZCW! These are my mentors, Action Saxton and Saboteur! It is very nice to meet y-"
The rest of his sentence is cut off by a large hand over his mouth. Action Saxton nods at the manager and laughs nervously.
"Kids, eh?" he says. "Suckas always coming up with some crazy stories. Next thing you know he'll be tellin' you we ain't even Italian!"
The manager stares from one person to the other. He shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, but you do not fit our criteria necessary at this time. Please escort yourselves out of the building, and for God's sake, change your clothes."
The three stare at each other for a moment, before walking out of the building, glum and defeated.
"I thought for sure that would work!" exclaims Saboteur, throwing his hat on the ground.
"Yeah, sucka," sighs Saxton, ripping his shirt off to reveal his official Action Saxton shirt, now available on WZCWshop.com. "Looks like we're going to have to find another way to get that briefcase."
"Luckily for us, I have a plan."
Saboteur kneels down, and starts drawing in the dirt.
"So, we get our grappling hooks, and climb on top of Pizza Planet. When I say 'Go', Saxton, you need to swing down and land on top of the truck. Meanwhile, I will be unleashing my squad of exceptionally well-trained pelicans to distract the manager and patrons of this fine establishment. Once I do that, I'll ride my scooter out of the door, doing a perfect triple lutz and landing on top of the truck with you. This should scare it enough to get it moving. Krypto, this is where you come in. If you stay out of the way and look like an alien, tourists will take pictures of you, and that leaves us free to do the real work, where we pick the lock, retrieve the briefcase, and win our match."
Saboteur and Saxton look up from the complex dirt diagram.
"...Krypto?"
"Help!"
A small voice emanates from an unknown place. Saxton and Saboteur look around, trying to see where their alien protoge has gone.
"Help!"
The two tag team partners race around, trying to find the source of Krypto's cries. Finally, Saxton points.
"There, sucka!"
Saboteur follows his gaze to see Krypto trapped inside the pizza delivery truck.
"I'm trapped inside the pizza delivery truck!" he says.
"He's trapped inside the pizza delivery truck!" Saboteur exclaims. He rushes up to the truck and starts pounding on the windows. Krypto, excited, pounds back.
"Stay calm, suckas!" barks Saxton. "Krypto, there should be something you can press that unlocks the back of the van! You've driven a spaceship, this should be a walk in the park!"
Krypto starts haphazardly mashing buttons on the dashboard. With a bang, the back of the van opens up and Saboteur runs towards it. He reaches inside to pull out the King For A Day Briefcase.
"I've got it! Let's move!"
The three of them run out of Pizza Planet's parking lot, and towards a secluded area just off the street. Saboteur pants as he places the heavy suitcase on the ground.
"Man, great and terrible powers are heavy!"
Action Saxton nods. "That they are, sucka. I learned that when I starred in my hit film, 'Action Saxton Defeats The Ancient Power With His Own Two Hands'. Now open it up, sucka!"
Saboteur flexes his fingers in anticipation. His eyes alight at the thought of the WZCW Championship contract, as well as the ancient power. Slowly, he opens the latch, to reveal...
"My people!"
"Yes! Aliens!"
From the briefcase bursts forth a veritable avalanche of squishy green aliens. Krypto looks around before grabbing a large armful and running into the woods.
"Fly, my people! Fly! Be free! Free to live the life you once knew!"
Saboteur simply grabs one, and stares. An assumed smile crosses his masked face.
"They're just so cute!"
Action Saxton opens his mouth to speak, and closes it again. He opens it once more.
"Oh well," he says. "We might not have a contract that guarantees us a title match, we might not have access to the great and terrible power that has granted Constantine his manliest of mustaches, and we might have this wannabe alien fool killing our buzz, but we still have these!"
He lifts his shirt again.
"The WZCW Tag Team Championships! And that means when it comes to two on two wrestling, ain't nobody better than us, you dig? So I say bring on Matt Tastic, bring on John Constantine, bring on anybody and everybody, because when that bell ring and the ref says go, ain't nobody I'd rather have in my corner than-"
"Me! Krypto!"
"No, sucka!" barks Saxton. "My buddy Saboteur! Now shut the hell up and don't interrupt me when I'm making a passionate speech!"
He turns to Saboteur, who is still clutching his squishy alien.
"C'mon, sucka. We got to go."
The two tag team partners stroll happily across the street, back to the Pizza Planet parking lot, and back to Action Saxton's vintage 1960 Cadillac Coupe De Ville. Action Saxton gets in the front seat. Saboteur rides shotgun. Saxton starts the car, allowing the smooth sounds of soul to fill the air. He turns to his tag team partner.
"Aren't we forgetting something?"
Saboteur thinks for a moment.
"Nope."
Action Saxton puts the pedal to the metal, and drives off.
In the clearing, near the edge of the woods, Krypto looks around.
"...Guys?"
