George Martin - Lowball

Back in the apartment, Eddie opened his eyes and looked at the phone that sat near his bed. All he had to do was dial 9-1-1.

But Eddie’s voice and phone number would be recorded, and sooner or later he’d have to explain how a crippled stay-at-home joker could be an eyewitness to a crime-a potential crime-more than a mile away.

Gary Glitch could pick up a pay phone, if he could find one, or dash into an all-night convenience store and raise the alarm. But Gary Glitch was wanted for peeping, and with his distinctive face and build Stevens would recognize him immediately. If Gary ever came to the attention of the police, Eddie might have to retire him permanently.

While Eddie fretted, Lupo continued to make his way home. He was now a block from his hotel; the two thugs following him were now on the same side of the street. Half a block behind Lupo and closing in fast, they were no longer making an effort to conceal themselves. Lupo was oblivious, whistling an old disco tune as he strolled along.

If Eddie was reading the situation right, there probably wasn’t much more than a minute before Lupo got snatched. Something had to be done, and fast.

Mister Nice Guy was just a couple blocks off, The Gulloon a bit farther away, but they were moving too slowly to offer assistance in time. Only Gary was close enough to do anything, and Lupo hated him.

Eddie had an idea, but it was going to be tricky.

As Mister Nice Guy hurried to meet up with the snatchers before they reached Lupo, The Gulloon lumbering along as quick as he could, Gary Glitch scrambled down a fire escape and dashed across the silent street to tug at Lupo’s sleeve. “Hey, dog-breath!” he sneered. “Remember me?”

Lupo’s hackles literally rose at the sight of the little cartoon. “You’re that big-eared asshole who peeped in my sister’s bedroom!” He raised a fist, murder in his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me!” Gary said with a smirk. “And I bet you can’t catch me this time, either!” He turned and scrambled away, leading Lupo away from the two snatchers.

With an inarticulate growl, Lupo took off after him.

Two blocks away, Mister Nice Guy rounded a corner. He saw Gary running away, Lupo following him, and the two thugs running after Lupo.

Mister Nice Guy set off after the two goons. He wasn’t as fast as Zip or Gary, but like them he was capable of inhuman feats. He lengthened his stride, his legs stretching to ten or twelve feet long as he hurried to catch up with the thugs. The pace was tiring but he wouldn’t need to do it for long.

Gary scrambled on hands and feet down the cold gritty sidewalk. He could easily escape by scurrying up the side of some building, but if he did that Lupo would give up the chase and then get caught by the thugs. So Gary hurried along with frequent glances over his shoulder, fast but not too fast, carefully keeping himself in Lupo’s sight. It was even more exhausting than running full-tilt.

Back in his apartment, Eddie sat in his chair with fists clenched and sweat running down his sides. With everyone moving so fast it was hard to keep track of who was where. Feet shuffling on the linoleum, he maneuvered his chair across the floor and pulled a New York street map from a shelf.

Meanwhile, The Gulloon plodded along. Eddie couldn’t spare much attention for him so he just kept going in a straight line.

Loping with his impossible stride, Mister Nice Guy soon caught up to the two thugs. They didn’t hear his cartoonish footfalls coming up behind them.

Three more giant steps and he was well past them.

Then he brought himself to a sudden boinging halt, extending one ten-foot leg across their path.

This was going to hurt. Eddie knew Mister Nice Guy’s fragile material would crumble like paper under the impact of two thundering brutes, but he hoped it would stall them. He braced for the impact.

But as soon as he saw Mister Nice Guy’s extended leg, Fish-Face shouted, and tried to stop himself. Big and strong though he was, Fish-Face’s reflexes were merely human, and in trying to stop he stumbled and fell, tripping Scarred Ear in the process.

Mister Nice Guy pulled back his leg like a retracting tape measure, a fraction of a second before the thugs fell across the place where it had been.

“Gotcha!” cried Lupo.

Eddie jerked his attention back to Gary Glitch, who stood frozen like a scared rabbit in the wolf-man’s path. Eddie had forgotten to keep him moving while Mister Nice Guy was dealing with the thugs. With a squeak Gary jumped up, barely dodging Lupo’s grasp, and ran at top speed down the street.

But Eddie couldn’t afford to ignore Mister Nice Guy for long … Fish-Face and Scarred Ear were disentangling themselves and in a moment they would be all over him.

That was exactly what Eddie wanted. He put Mister Nice Guy’s thumb to his nose and blew an enormous raspberry.

Enraged, Fish-Face leaped up from the sidewalk. But his grasping hand closed on thin air as Mister Nice Guy swerved out of the way, his body curving into a parenthesis. Scarred Ear growled and tried to grab him in a bear hug, but he ducked that too, bending like a balloon animal.

The two snatchers weren’t as dumb as they looked. They charged him simultaneously, from opposite directions. But Mister Nice Guy leaped straight up in the air at the last minute, grabbing onto the horizontal bar of a streetlight as the two thugs collided where he’d been.

That bought Eddie a moment to look in on his other characters. Gary was still running full-tilt with Lupo in hot pursuit, and The Gulloon was still plodding along, so far away from the action that he might as well be on another planet.

Eddie couldn’t just keep his characters running forever. They might be cartoons, but they still tired … or maybe it was just Eddie who was getting tired. Either way, he had to find a place to stash Lupo pretty soon. The thugs had intercepted Lupo on the way to the White House, so they must know he roomed there. Fort Freak was too far away, and anyway the cops wouldn’t take Lupo seriously.

There was only one place in New York City that Eddie knew was safe.

No. He couldn’t possibly.

But he had to do something .

Eddie bit his lip and redirected Gary on a southbound trajectory.

Toward his own home.

Even as Gary ran, though, Eddie realized none of this would make any difference if the two snatchers lost interest in Mister Nice Guy and took off after Lupo again. Lupo wasn’t that far ahead of them, and they could easily catch him before Gary reached Eddie’s door.

Eddie returned his full attention to Mister Nice Guy, who was still hanging on the streetlight. Below him the two thugs had recovered their feet. But instead of either giving up on Mister Nice Guy or screaming at him, Fish-Face was just smiling up at him-the most disturbing toothy grin Eddie had ever seen. Meanwhile, the other thug was talking in Russian on his cell phone. What the hell?

Then Fish-Face reached out and grasped the lamppost in one gray, slimy hand.

And a horrible, juddering electric shock surged through the metal and into Mister Nice Guy.

Mister Nice Guy shrieked, his body vibrating and his bones becoming visible through his flesh. His hands clenched the lamppost in an uncontrollable spasm. The pain was incredible. Eddie gasped and curled up like a prawn in his rolling chair, and Gary and The Gulloon both collapsed where they were.

But pain was something Eddie dealt with every day. When the electric shock stopped, Eddie was still alive, still conscious, and still in control of all his creations.

And really pissed off.

Fish-Face seemed disappointed that Mister Nice Guy hadn’t dropped off the lamppost like an overripe fruit. He reached for the post again.