Chapter 8: In a sterile and frigid laboratory, a tall man in a three-piece suit stood triumphantly facing a giant control panel while a six-foot rabbit dangled quietly in a cage over a boiling cauldron of water. After what felt like an eternity for the trapped rabbit, the tall man began to saunter around the cauldron in deliberate, calculated circles. “Well, well now, Easter Bunny…you know what I am in the mood for? Rabbit stew!” chuckled the man in the suit. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” cried the Easter Bunny. “What have I ever done to you?” “What have you done to me? You have ruined my sales! Collapsed my empire! Pushed me out of the market! Ring any bells, Mister?” screamed the man in the suit. “Your empire?” the Easter Bunny asked, his paws grasping the bars of the cage as he pushed his innocent nose through his tiny prison to get a better glimpse of his captor. ...
Santa’s sleigh burned in the snow. His reindeer roamed in an open field nearby. All the gifts for all the good children around the world - burning to cinders. Santa turned on his side and gasped for air, a track of snow behind him chronicling his crawl away from the wreckage. A black boot slammed in front of Ol’ Saint Nick’s ol’ saint face. The black boot led up to a man covered in black body armor, obscuring his eyes with black goggles. “Well, well, well, Santa. Looks like you had yourself a little accident!” chortled The Man in Black. “Isn’t one of the first lessons in flight school to always keep an out for projectiles?” The Man in Black pointed to his Jeep. A rocket launcher was mounted in the back. “You never know what you might run your sleigh into up there.” Santa cried out, “ Why ?! Why would you do this to me - and the children?” Sneering, The Man in Black hissed, “Children? I don’t care about ch...
Chapter 15: Bulldog was finally regaining consciousness. He had an itch on his nose, but when he tried to move his hand to reach it, he was met with sharp resistance. His hands were tied to a chair. He was blindfolded. He could hear voices in the distance, but he couldn’t quite identify the speakers. One was proposing Bulldog be tossed down a mine shaft, the other arguing for a dip in the river with some heavy footwear. Bulldog tried to stand up. His feet were also bound tightly to the chair. How did this happen? Think, Bulldog. Think…sunny day…a stroll in the park…loose change on the ground…no harm in making a bit of money…see a penny, pick it up…aerosolized chemical agent…excruciating pain…blackout... Even with these vague memories, Bulldog had a strong suspicion as to who was behind this. He heard a creaky door open, and heavy footsteps approach. “Well, well, well, Bulldog. Predictable as ever. Still can’t resist a bit of loose change on the ground, can you?”...
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