Goth walked out of the golden elevators and sighed. Slick Dick’s offices were always decorated shamelessly. Anyone could clearly see that no expense had been spared. He walked quickly to the secretary’s desk.

“Slick, Goth is here,” she said into the intercom.

“Send him in,” came the immediate reply. She nodded, but when she looked up, Goth was gone.

The large doors to the office flew open as Goth stormed in.

“Do you always have to do that?”

“I like to make an entrance,” he said flatly.

Slick cleared his throat and asked, “Ever heard of Lisa Marginoff?”

Goth paused for a moment. “You mean the scientist?”

Slick nodded. “The same. She’s coming here tomorrow, and I want you to be her escort.”

Goth frowned. “I’m not a bodyguard,” he stated.

Slick slammed his hands down on his desk. “You’ll be whatever I say you are, and tomorrow, you’re a bodyguard!!!” he screamed.

After regaining his composure, Slick went on. “Also, I’m going to need Blaze. Where is he?”

Goth shrugged. “Haven’t seen him.”

“Perfect,” Slick muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Could you not do that?” Goth asked.

Slick raised an eyebrow.

“It’s bad for us both,” Goth explained.

“What’s your point? I’m the boss and you’re not.” He laughed and blew a puff in Goth’s face.

“What’s the point of smoking anyway?” Goth asked.

Slick shrugged. “Makes me feel better. Gets me high.”

Goth grabbed Slick by the collar and lifted him above his head. “High enough for you?” he asked.

“Okay, I’ll put it out!” Slick cried.

“Don’t bother,” Goth said. He took the cigarette and crushed it in his hand.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Slick wondered.

“Nope, but this will,” Goth replied, slamming his hand on Slick’s face. He screamed as the ashes began to burn him. Goth dropped him back into the chair and headed out of the office.

He paused at the door. “By the way, this bodyguard thing is the last job I do for you. Once the girl’s out of town, I quit.” With that, he quickly walked away, leaving Slick to mutter a string of curses.

Goddess had just finished her last set for the night when the big man walked into Club Olympus. Even beneath the black overcoat he wore, his huge muscles rippled with every movement. His green eyes searched the club until they landed on Goddess. Then he strode forward, heading straight towards her private table. On cue, two of her bouncers stepped up to stop him. A few seconds later, one had four broken limbs, and the lucky one was already dead.

The big man stopped in front of her table, staring ominously down at Goddess. “Where is the one called Blaze?” he asked, breathing heavily.

Goddess scrunched up her face as the stench hit her. “He’s not here,” she said, covering her nose.

“But he was here,” the man said, his bloodshot eyes bulging out of his head. “I can sense it!”

“Can you sense that you need like a ten ton pack of Tic-Tacs?” she asked.

Instantly, a green hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her air. “I would hate to destroy one so beautiful,” he rasped, pulling her out of her seat.

Goddess gasped as he lifted her up to his eye level.

“Either you drop the boss or we drop you,” a deep voice said. The man turned to see the rest of the Club Olympus security team, their guns drawn, and all aimed at him. He grinned and tightened his hold on Goddess’ neck. She coughed loudly and struggled harder.

A gunshot sounded as Earl fired. The first shot tore through the man’s wrist, effectively freeing Goddess. She fell to the floor, only to be grabbed as one of her men carried her to safety. The citizens panicked and emptied the club in five seconds.

“You have ten seconds to disappear,” Earl said, ready for another shot.

The big man growled and clutched at his bleeding wrist. “As you wish.”

He slowly turned to leave. Then he whipped around, twin guns blazing. Seven men fell with fatal bullet wounds, and a few more were wounded.

“Hit the floor!” Earl shouted, diving over the bar counter. The others overturned tables and hid behind them.

“Come on!” the big man roared, firing more shots.

A shadow passed silently overhead, noticed only by Earl. “What the heck was that?” he asked no one in particular.

“Your back-up,” Goth replied, landing on the big man’s back. “Miss me, Corpse-Maker?” he asked, driving both fists into the man’s neck.

With a single movement, Corpse-Maker spun around, whipping Goth into the bar. His coat was torn loose, revealing the true monster underneath it.

Corpse-Maker, if he ever was human, certainly didn’t fit the description now. Most of his muscular body was a sickly green color, and his face was almost totally white. Large veins were visible in his arms, probably from his decades of drug abuse. A long red scar ran down the center of his chest, glowing faintly in the dimly lit club. “You did this to me!” he screamed, charging at Goth.

“That’s what happens when you try to steal mystic knives, Maker,” Goth replied, leaping onto the bar counter.

Maker slammed both his fists into the bar counter, leaving two very large dents in the last place Goth had been standing. All that remained now was a thin mist with a foul smell. The putrid scent even overpowered Maker’s normally toxic fumes. The monster stepped back, waving away the smell with his hand. “You can’t run from me, Goth!”

“Who’s running?”

Maker spun around to find Goth sitting at a nearby table with his feet propped up. “Let’s try something different. You tell me why you’re here, and I’ll only hurt you bad enough to keep you from killing anyone else.”

For a moment, Maker considered taking his head off. But this was one of the rare moments that Goth made sense to him. “Slick sent me. Wants me to find your pal, Blaze.”

“That makes two of us,” Goth replied.

“Liar!” Maker shouted, grabbing the table.

Goth rolled back and pulled two knives from his coat.

Maker lifted the table over his head and prepared to slam it down. The knives flew from Goth’s hand, landing directly in Maker’s wrists. The monster screamed as dark blood flowed from the wounds. As Goth had expected, he released the table, which broke apart on his head. He stumbled back, then collapsed across another table, breaking that one as well. “Chump,” Goth spat, retrieving the knives and wiping them on his coat.

Goddess slowly walked over to stand by his side.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, staring at Maker’s unconscious body. “You saved my life,” she whispered suddenly, looking up at Goth.

“Just because I don’t like hugging you doesn’t mean I don’t like you alive,” he replied, adjusting the black gloves on his large hands. “Besides, Blaze would be pissed if you ended up dead.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?” she asked with a slight smile.

Goth arched an eyebrow. “Let’s just say I’d take a kiss from you over him anyday,” he said finally.

“How about one right now?” she asked.

“Nice try,” Goth muttered, pulling out his cell phone. Hitting the speed-dial, he waited a few seconds. “Hey, Mona. Yeah, it’s me. Need you to pick up Maker over at Olympus.” There was a brief pause. “Nope, haven’t seen him. I’ll keep an eye out. Later.”

The front doors burst open as five thugs tumbled in. Most of their clothes were gone, and the bits that remained were charred. “Save us!” one of them screamed, tripping over his companions. Behind them, two more people entered the club.

“Long time no see, Goth,” Blaze commented, kicking one of the whimpering thugs.

“That was fun!” Jen said, cracking her knuckles.

“Should’ve known it was you two,” Goth chuckled. “Seems like everyone in Yankers is looking for you, man. Including Maker.”

Blaze grinned. “Yeah, anybody with some sense wants me for one thing or another.”

“I’m glad to see you guys, but who’s going to clean up this mess?” Goddess asked.

“Don’t look at me; I just saved your life. I’m done for the night,” Goth replied quickly.

“I guess I’ll do it,” Jen said at last. “But I am not touching that thing,” she added, pointing at Maker.

“Deal! I’ll give you $25 for that alone,” Goddess said with a grin.

“Cool!” Jen said, picking up some broken wood.

A few minutes later, Mona arrived in an armored van. “Where’s the filth?” she asked, shoving the doors open. She glanced down at Maker and the thugs. “Okay, get ‘em in the van, boys.”

Goth and Blaze dragged them out to the armored van.

“Looks like you boys had some fun tonight, huh?” she asked, noting some of the damage Jen was cleaning up.

“Old habits die hard,” Blaze said, tossing the last thug into the van. “Any new orders from Slick Dick?”

“You’re now on escort duty,” Mona replied.

Goth shook his head. “Nope, just me. I got the word from Slick himself. He wants Blaze available for something else. Which is why he sent Maker to rough up Goddess.”