Someone has a bone to pick...or in this case a hockey stick

[toasterordeath]

*Sniff* So. In addition to kidnapping, which I'll have you know is very illegal as well as totally uncool and highly bad for your health...you went and chose that for a...whatever ya call these things?

[Usernames.]

...Seriously? Of all my many illuminating and highly awesome achievements...you picked that one thing. The toaster line? Out of everything?

[I think you meant illustrious.]

And I think you meant "Oh yes Mr. Jones, I'd love for you to take that bat and apply it across my big dumb face multiple times!" C'mere ya little jerk, get here where I can get my hands on ya! I'll teach ya t'go around messin' with Casey Friggin' Jones!

Comments

[roughup]

Assault and battery are illegal too. Just thought you should know.

[toasterordeath]

Oh yeah? An' who asked you geek face? You some kinda lawyer for these lowlife pencil pushers?? Someone needs t'teach 'em that ya can't just take people an' play around with 'em like they're some kinda toy!!

[roughup]

Lawyer? Nah. They're just as bad as our muns. I do know that threatening to assault them will probably make things a hell of a lot worse on your end of things.

[toasterordeath]

Ha! Worse? Like this scrawny lil' nerd is gonna be able t'do anything bad to me? Buddy, I've seen the worst that New York has t'offer; Organized Crime Rings, Unorganized Crime Rings, Mutants, Monsters, Bad Takeout, you name it! Name one thing this dweeb can do that's gonna have me shakin' in my boots.

Well if you INSIST...

[dreamlikereality]

[Sure hope you wanted to be yanked into a blinding white mindscape for a mere conversation. Or verbal throttling. By some nerdy looking kid with a highly disgusted look on his face why is this stupid mun even shoving him out here.]

Considering that you appear to be a temperamental brute of decidedly less than average intelligence, the last thing you should worry about is something as petty as the "username." Then again, I suppose petty complaints are about all someone like you is accustomed to processing.

I can't say sheer force won't solve the occasional problem, but the problem of "mundanes" is far too complex to resolve with a bat. The application of force is an art, and here you are throwing refuse at the canvas and calling it a masterpiece. Really, it's quite pathetic and you should quit before you engage someone for whom that mere stick is no obstacle, like me.

Did you follow, or should I simplify my case even further?

[toasterordeath]

[Casey's just gonna kinda...wring out his ear with his pinkie for a second before cupping his hand to it, not even bothering to give the kid and his creepy white mindscape the time of day.]

Huh? What wazzat? I coulda sworn I heard a giant friggin' nerd spoutin' off some nonsense in geekspeak.

[And then he is going to give you the time of day. And laugh. A lot.]

Pfff! You got some stones talkin' all tough bedgown, but look atcha! Whaddya gonna do, sneeze at me an' get me all sick-like? Oh, but be careful! You might need your inhaler if you move those little stick limbs around too much!

[dreamlikereality]

[Honestly, that's about the level of response that Bedman expected. That doesn't mean it doesn't make his eye twitch ever so slightly, though.]

Didn't anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover? If you'd like to test your strength against mine, by all means be my guest. I might as well collect information on the skills of those from other worlds while I'm here, after all.

However, to be perfectly honest I don't expect you to so much as get a speck of dust on my glasses. I could most likely defeat you in my sleep, and I do mean that literally.

[toasterordeath]

Wait...waitwaitwait...you? You're sayin'...you could take me? Hold on, gimme a sec here.

[And now he's laughing harder, he'll be back with you in a moment.]

Bahahahaha! That is rich! Yer funny kiddo, I like that! I can appreciate a sense o'humor, I really can, but yer talkin' two steps above yer game here. Go back to t'little leagues a'fore ya get a real boo boo. I'd hate t'make yer insurance cover those coke bottles yer wearing.

[dreamlikereality]

Hrm.

Normally I'd say you actually agree with me and are merely attempting to save face rather than suffer the humiliation of attacking me, but unfortunately I don't believe you're that smart.

It's a wonder I even agreed to waste time talking to someone as naive as you. A shame, really, throwing the spotlight on a talentless background actor. You should consider yourself lucky that you're not an obstacle to me, or I'd have disposed of you already.

Very well then, if you'd like one last chance I promise I won't even dodge if you hit me with your best shot. Fire away, as you will.

[toasterordeath]

Look, kiddo, I ain't gonna fight ya. I sure as shoot ain't afraid o'ya, but somethin' 'bout hittin' a freaky floatin' kid jus' strikes me as...

[Wait for it...wait for it...]

Unethical. Sides, if y'ain't even gonna take a fight seriously, what's the point? I like t'have some challenge, come back when y'get a giant robot or somethin'.

[dreamlikereality]

Oh? Is that your only requirement?

I hope you find this satisfactory, then.

[With that, Bedman drops them out of the whitescape and back into the real world - just in time for a huge mechanical spiked wheel to slam into the ground mere inches from Casey.

The "arm" retracts back to the rest of the contraption - it's a bed. It has robot limbs and hugeass spikes and a looming, twitching, freaky head with a crown, but it's definitely a bed.

And there's the kid himself, strapped into it, eyes closed. Asleep, clearly. And yet, his lips curve into that slitlike smile as the robot bed crouches and gives a beckoning gesture, the spikes on one of those wheel-hands abruptly jutting out and retracting back in.

Come at him, bro.]

[roughup]

They can take away your free will. Think that's pretty damn scary.

[toasterordeath]

[Well, that was a new one. The spiked wheel was enough for Casey to hop back a few inches, but he didn't at all look shaken. If anything, it put a smug smirk on his face as he put a hand atop his trademark hockey mask and pulled it snugly over his face before drawing not one, but two sturdy looking baseball bats from the golf carrier on his back.]

Looks like y'got some fancy tricks after all! It ain't giant, but it'll do. If you wanna scrap with Casey Jones, I'll turn yer freaky lil' bed INTA SCRAP! GOONGALA GOONGALA!

[With a roar, he smashed the bats together and tore towards Bedman like some kind of crazed berserker, and yet his form had a certain finesse to it, as if he'd been at this kind of thing for a long time, not elegant but practiced.]

[toasterordeath]

Hey pal, ain't no one controls Casey Jones but Casey Jones. I ain't no puppet that's gonna dance around on no strings an' if Mr. Keyboard over here got a problem wit that, he can take it up with my hockey stick.

[tarzanboy]

Couldn't have picked a better achievement in my opinion.

[toasterordeath]

Yeah yeah, laugh it up, like yer userwhatsit is any better.

[Have a customary greeting shoulder punch though!]

[roughup]

Why do I get the feeling you've got a rap sheet a mile long that's all assault and battery?

[Got problems? Just beat them. With a stick. Like a cave man.]

[toasterordeath]

Hey! Why're ya treatin' me like a criminal here? I'm jus' an honest, hard-workin' guy out t'make the streets o'New York a lil' safer!

[You know, buy senselessly brutalizing small time crooks for stealing a car radio.]

Sometimes ya gotta put in some elbow grease if yer gonna get a stain out, right?

[roughup]

[Sigh. Even worse than he thought. Some jumped up vigilante type.]

So who're you supposed to be then? Should I call you Voorhees?

[Because that's all he could think of with the hokey mask.]

[toasterordeath]

I already told ya! I'm Casey Jones, an' there ain't no Foot Clan, Purple Dragon, Mutant, Monster, or Freaky Robots that're gonna rough up my neighborhood any more.

[roughup]

It's great that you wanna help clean up the gangs roaming New York, but it's better to leave that to the guys with badges. If you have any information on them though you can always help that way.

[Though Ressler knows that the police have a pretty damn hard time on their own... if not dirty cops making things worse.]

[toasterordeath]

Yeah, cause you badge types helped real good when my dad's shop got burnt to t'ground an' he got iced for his trouble. I ain't sayin' cops don't got a place, but it ain't like I'm expectin' any o'ya t'be able to handle freaks an' ninjas.

[Because he's come a longgggggggggg way from where he used to be in his opinion of police. At least he doesn't view them as obstacles anymore.]

[roughup]

[... that's a whole lot to take in at once.]

Look I'm sorry about your dad, it's not right what happened, but you can't expect me to believe you about ninjas.

Or... freaks?

[What does he even mean.]

[toasterordeath]

Freaks. Mutants and all that other freaky stuff.

[That gets a unimpressed handwave because dealing with mutants was just a typical Tuesday night for him.]

I ain't expectin' you to believe nothin', but jus' remember that a lot o'crazy stuff happens in New York that people can't explain.