Gord Zajac - Major Karnage

Karnage strained against his bonds. His voiced boomed with his best drill sergeant bark. “Corporal! We’ve got to act fast! Call the general! Mobilize the infantry! Get me my rifle! Get me outta this bed! Uncle Stanley won’t get the drop on us this time. There’s a battle needs fightin’ and we’re the grunts to do it. Don’t just stand there, Corporal! Do something! Velasquez! Heckler! Koch! On your feet, soldiers!”

“Major, please,” Cookie frantically jerked his sleeve back down over his forearm. “Fridge’ll hear you!”

“What the hell’s going on over there?” Fridge unholstered his stun gun. Blue sparks danced across the metal tines. “You boys need a little lesson in discipline?”

“No, Fridge,” squeaked Cookie.

“We don’t have time for this!” Karnage wriggled and struggled so hard the bed’s casters bounced on the floor. He jerked his head at Fridge. “Cookie! Crack him across the neck like you did those Uncle Stanley skerks back in Kabul! You can take him!” Karnage turned to the other patients. “Come on, troops! Mobilize! He can’t take us all. On your feet, soldiers!”

“Nobody do nothing stupid,” Fridge pointed at Velasquez and Koch who were in the middle of rising up off their beds. They halted. They looked from Fridge to Karnage and back again.

The doors to the ward burst open. Doctor Flaherty walked into the room. His balding bespectacled face wore a wide grin. A pair of nurses flanked him on either side. They were the spitting image of Fridge though they went by the names Mammoth and Skyscraper. Straggling behind them was a less portly and slightly hairier doctor they’d never seen before. His ID tag read “Johnson.” He looked furtively from side to side as he scribbled notes on a clipboard. Flaherty was in mid-sentence, gesturing grandly into the room.

“And in here we have—Stevens, what’s going on here?”

Fridge slapped the stun gun back down to his side. “The ol’ major is having a freakout. Nothing I can’t handle, Doctor.”

Flaherty eyed the stun gun. “Indeed. Let’s see if I can’t get through to him first, hmm?”

“Doctor!” Karnage barked. “Get me outta this bed. This is an emergency!”

Flaherty turned to Johnson. “You’re in for a real treat here. The major isn’t usually this talkative. Normally all we can get out of him is his name, rank, and serial number.”

Karnage struggled against his bonds. “Doctor! We have a situation here! Time is of the essence!”

“Major,” Flaherty’s tone was soft and cordial. “I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Johnson. He’ll be replacing Dr. Kubota, who opted to resign after that little incident last week. Dr. Johnson, may I introduce you to Major John Karneski.”

“Karneski?” Johnson’s jaw dropped. “Do you mean… is this Major Karnage?”

“We prefer to refer to our patients by their given names here. Isn’t that right, John?”

“That’s Major to you, asshole,” Velasquez shouted from her bed.

Johnson reached a hand out towards Karnage. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”

Flaherty grabbed Johnson’s arm. “I’d advise against that, Johnson. It’s always a good idea to give the major a wide berth.”

“But he’s strapped to the bed,” Johnson said.

“Still, one can never be too careful around the major. Isn’t that right, John?”

“Doctor, you are wearin’ my patience down to a bloody stump! I don’t have time for this rigamarole. You gotta let me outta this bed on the double before the enemy gets the drop on us!”

“What enemy, John?” Flaherty asked.

Karnage sneered. “That’s the big question mark, isn’t it? Who is the enemy? Who can you trust? I thought I knew who the enemy was. But then some civilian assmonkey is stickin’ medals on my chest with one hand while shovin’ my sorry ass into this hellhole with the other!”

“John, I can understand your frustration, but you’re going to have to learn to let go.”

“Doctor, you are interferin’ with a military operation! That is in direct violation of military ordinance number—”

“John,” Flaherty’s tone grew firm. “There are no more military ordinances. There is no military. Your continued persistence in believing in this delusion—”

“Delusion, my ass! You can take your world peace and your Nagasaki treaties and shove ’em down your piehole! You know what your problem is? You got the wrong guys locked up, that’s what. There are enemies out there just waitin’ to pounce on you when your guard is down. Like a lion stalkin’ a herd o’ gazelle. You get me? And when guys like me get locked up while guys like you run the asylum, you gotta wonder just what the hell went wrong with the world. But the enemy doesn’t care about the why. They’re just waitin’ out there with their seventeen inch bayonets… waiting for the right time to shove those blades right up your ass! That time is lookin’ to be now, Doc. So you best unfuck yourself and lemme outta this bed!”

Flaherty turned to the other patients. “Who did this? Who riled him up like this?”

Fridge jerked a thumb at Cookie. “The old major was fine until Chucky there started hovering over his bed.”

Cookie squeaked.

“Charles?” Flaherty turned to Cookie. “Was it you?”

Cookie stared at the ground. He nodded.

“What did you tell him, Charles?” Flaherty said.

“You don’t have to tell him shit, Corporal,” Karnage said.

Cookie looked at Karnage, then Flaherty. He quickly darted his head back down again. He gripped his forearm tightly.

“What do you have there, Charles?” Flaherty asked patiently.

“Nothin’,” Karnage said. “He’s got nothin’!”

“Let me see your forearm,” Flaherty said.

Cookie made another squeak and slowly pulled up his shirt sleeve, revealing the squiggles. Flaherty looked at the mass of writing, then at Cookie. “Are you hearing voices again, Charles?”

“They’re not voices!” Karnage shouted. “They’re alien communications!”

“Aliens?” Flaherty’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly met his receding hairline.

“That’s right! Aliens! Extra tee -restrials! Unidentified Flying Objects of Death! You get me?!”

“I’m afraid I do.” Flaherty sighed. He turned to Cookie. “I’m very disappointed in you, Charles. You should have come to me. I’m here to help.”

Cookie fingered his bandages and whimpered.

Flaherty turned to Fridge. “Take Charles to the showers and clean him up.”

“No!” Cookie yelped. “I haven’t cracked the code yet! You can’t take ’em off until I’ve cracked the code!”

“Charles.” Flaherty’s voice was stern. He looked at Cookie over the rims of his glasses.

Cookie instantly deflated. Fridge grabbed Cookie under his arm and dragged him away. Karnage squirmed and wriggled as he shouted.

“No! Don’t let ’em do it! You’re a trained soldier! You can take ’em! Bite off his ear! Knee him in the crotch! Tear out his guts! Snap him—”

Karnage winced as jolts of electricity shot down his spine. An alarm softly pinged. An angelic female voice emanated from the base of Karnage’s skull. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Lemon Breeze. Please refrain from violent behaviour. Thank you.”

“What was that?” Johnson said.

Flaherty’s eyes lit up. Just like Cookie’s , Karnage thought.

“Oh, it’s an ingenious little device! Major, would you mind if I showed him?”

“Go to hell.”

Flaherty shook his head. “You really need to learn to be more cooperative.” Flaherty flipped a switch beside Karnage’s bed. The bed flipped onto its side. Flaherty pulled a long-handled pointer with a U-shaped end covered in rubber from his labcoat. He slipped the U around the back of Karnage’s neck and pushed his head forward. There was a tiny LED display at the base of Karnage’s skull. The screen pulsed a soft pale yellow.