My name’s Malone.

Bulldog Malone.

Right now, I’m as mad as my namesake.

It all started one evening when I came home. "Hon, I’m back!" I shouted as per custom. Usually my wife knows what want: Cold beer and a nice scratch behind the ears. Being a policeman in Complex City’s rough. Well, this day it was different. I came home, and the door was wide open. I drew my revolver and entered the place. I thought I’d find it ransacked and my favorite stash of stogies gone. If only I was so lucky. I found that my loving wife was gone. Kidnapped.

Someone’s gonna pay.

I called for backup and started investigating the scene. Whoever did was a pro. No prints, no sign of forced entry, neighbors saw nothing. Well, there’s got to be something going on. She wouldn’t leave me, not like this… I started going to my sources underground. Nobody heard anything. It was about 48 hours later when I got the note on my desk: It had been slipped there with nobody seeing anything. It was written in the ransom style:

Malone:

If you value your wife, you will stop meddling in my affairs. I have her.

Lord Flambé

Damn.

Of all the people to kidnap her, Flambé was the worst. He had a big mad on for me when I broke up an extortion ring of his last month. I knew I’d have to call in on the big guns to find her and save the day. Fortunately, Bulletproof and Übermodel were free. I told them to keep an eye out for the little lady. If they find any of Flambé’s men, they’ll drag his butt to me. We combed the city over, trying to find some sign of the wife. Unfortunately, Complex City is just that. If you want to find something here, you got to search forever. Sometimes, being a cop just stinks. I never wanted to drag the missus into this war. Flambé decided otherwise. The endless searching continued, and Flambé was one step ahead of me. I needed a break, and I got it.

Meanwhile, the missus wasn't taking this lying down. I had taught Ginger basic self-defense techniques, and what to do if she was kidnapped. She decided to play Red Chief to her captors. When she came to, she was tied to a chair and being watched by a couple of thugs. Thinking quickly, she requested to use the can. There these thugs made their first mistake: They untied her and let her use the can. Ginger went into the bathroom and stayed there for awhile. The thugs got nervous, and then banged on the door. No response. They then banged again. Ginger then opened it up, greeting these mooks with a karate chop to the neck. It was no contest. Ginger had these guys on the floor and hurting in places they didn't know they had in no time flat. Shooting at her didn't work either. Of course, it helps to hit your target, but that's kinda hard when you're getting kicked in the stomach. Unforutnately, reinforcements arrived on their side and sprayed gas in Ginger's face. She went down like a ton of lead.

It was about 4 days after Übermodel managed to catch up to Flambé’s henchmen, a real scum of the earth guy named Tuscano. Tuscano was like something out of the Sopranos in a cheap suit and bad dye job. She dragged him down to my office and sat him in a chair opposite me. I knew he wouldn’t be a tough nut to crack. "Bite me, Malone." He said before I even opened up my mouth. "You can’t hold me forever, and the more you hold me, the more likely the boss is gonna play remove the body parts with the missus." I then decided on a ruse: "You tell him that if he harms my wife he’ll be very sorry." Since we couldn’t charge Tuscano with anything, we had to let him go. But not before I put a tracer on him. I figured Tuscano would lead us back to Flambé. Unfortunately, he didn’t. I found out Flambé gives directions via e-mail and phone calls. I was lead into one dead end after another, and it was honking me off no end. Took me another two days to get the judge to allow me to tap Tuscano’s phone. I had to wait like a coiled snake to strike.

Meanwhile, Ginger was up and at them again. She was still tied up, only this time, they tied her to the toilet. This time, she started henpecking the thugs. I tell you what, being married to me has toughed up her over the years. She was a pro at it. Of course, the kids gave her ample practice for this. The thugs started getting annoyed, and finally one of them gagged her. Ginger, being the lady she is, used this distraction to pull a knife from the pocket of one of them and free herself. She managed to get one of them down before the other pistol whipped her on the back of the head, sending her to la-la land again.

It was about four days later that Tuscano got an e-mail from Flambé. Now we had him dead in our sights. I went to the address armed only with my trusty pistol and word for Bulletproof to meet me there. I had a feeling that I’d need big backup in this case. Sure enough, when I broke the door down, a hail of machine gun fire greeted me. I took cover behind bulletproof. He just stood there like a statue while the bullets bounced off of him. "Guys, guys, guys." He started. "Don’t you know that the BP on my chest doesn’t stand for British Petroleum? I’m Bulletproof. Get it? Bullet Proof. That means that bullets don’t harm me." He then took one of the rifle barrels in hand and bent it up, turning it into a u-shape. "Now put that pea-shooter away before you –" He was then smacked in the jaw with the butt of the aforementioned machine gun. He wasn’t expecting it, but it didn’t seem to phase him much. Bulletproof then took the gun away from the thug and then used it to tie up his hands. Meanwhile, the others had stopped firing, so I pulled out of the hiding place I was in and came out with the pistol cocked and ready to fire. "We want Flambé and my wife, now." Flambé entered. I should have known this snake would have her.

"Ah, Bulldog Malone. Nice of you to drop in." He started. "So we are agreed, you leave me alone, and the little lady doesn’t bite the big one." I squinted at him, gritting my teeth. "No deals, Flambé. We’re taking the missus back with us. He didn’t initially react, but then pulled back some. "I was afraid of this…." Flambé then turned on a television to show me that the missus was tied to a chair, surrounded by quite a number of sharp daggers pointing up. "She is safe for the moment, as you can see." He started. "Whether she remains that way is up to you, Malone." But I had an ace in the hole. An ace named Übermodel. While all this was going on, she broke into a second floor window and started searching the place like I asked. Übermodel then appeared on the television screen, and scooped up the missus, chair and all. "Oh, a television camera! Is my makeup straight?" Übermodel asked from the television. "DAMN!" Flambé shouted. "Off the mutt!" I managed to land a shot on Flambé’s arm as the guns fired again, causing me to dive out of the way. Bulletproof wasn’t amused by this, and let Flambé know about it. "I hate being shot at! If you’re going to shoot at something, shoot at a target on a driving range!" He then smacked Flambé in the jaw, knocking the hapless neo-former crimelord onto the ground. Unfortunately for him, Flambé’s men ran out of ammo. That's what you get for shooting at someone who's bullet proof. Shortly after that, Übermodel entered carrying the missus in her arms. "Bulldog! It’s great to see you again!" She shouted. "Yea, good to see you too, hon." "Are you hurt, Ginger?" Bulletproof asked. "Nah, they didn’t hurt me at all." She then was sat down by Übermodel and went up to Lord Flambé. "You." She started, cold enough to freeze the sun. "I've been waiting for this." Ginger then unleashed a volley of kicks and chops against Lord Flambé. It took both Bulletproof and Übermodel to stop her. "Stop! We don't hurt them when they're down!" Bulletproof said in vain. I knew the missus could get pretty irate at times. "Man, I'm glad she's your wife and not mine." Bulletproof said. He and Übermodel released Ginger and she then turned to me. "Toots, they got a point there. Best to let due process handle dis bum." She rolled her eyes. "Sorry, it's just my nature." She replied as she went up to me. Ginger always knew I was a sucker for her when she scratched me behind my ears. "Well, I would not have believed this had I not seen it." Übermodel said. "You really like that stuff, Malone?" "Hey, who doesn’t?" I responded.

--End--