Axxo – Man, Myth, Miscreant

Conceived on a hot sweaty afternoon when the curiosity of a princess about her large muscular slave got the better of her, Axxo had neither the beauty or the strength of his creators. It can be said that Axxo was uninvited to life itself. Born as the illegitimate son of Sheikha Mariam, amid sparkling sand dunes and shimmering mirages, Axxo was the rightful heir to the throne of a rich Arab state.Fearful for his life, but more for her reputation, his mother unwillingly put him in a reed basket and set him sailing on the Euphrates. It was here that  Axxo’s step parents, who were washing clothes and fishing at the same time, found him.
Axxo was taken to a far off exotic land filled with tigers and snake charmers and great magicians who did fantastic rope tricks. It was here that Axxo spent the first decade and half of his miserable life, scrubbing floors and stocking shelves in his step parents’ supermarket.
A mysterious organisation known only as the BBC¹ rescued Axxo from this near vegetative state and enrolled him in the Hackwarts School For Wormcraft and Trojanry. Axxo met his first formidable foe, the porn-site hacker Voldemani, whom he defeated after seven long years by way of a zombie infused logic bomb.²
After graduation, Axxo went in search of his roots to the Middle East where he quickly rose in popularity as a master detective. Along with his bumbling aide, a burnt out sexologist, Axxo debugged several natural, unnatural and supernatural mysteries.³ But alas, the love and recognition (as rightful heir) he sought for from the Arabs still eluded him.⁴
Tragedy struck again. Plagued by a host of psychological disorders including Dissociative Identity Disorder, Bi-Polar Disorder, Attention Deficit Disorder, bed wetting etc, Axxo ultimately disappeared.
Twelve years later,⁵ he re-emerged, head shaven and heading a pack of rag tag troopers leading his fight against humanity. In the third skirmish⁶, Axxo lost something that no prosthetic could replace. But the worst was yet to come.
After years of idleness, Axxo finally found an opponent, a man he deemed worth killing – Captain Kundan !! But before Axxo could fulfill his evil schemes, Captain Kundan through a combination of skill, wit and strength captured him and incarcerated the villain mastermind. Now in some undisclosed locatuion, Axxo sits languishing his ways and pondering over his mistakes.⁷

^{1 The BBC was first referenced in Aristotle’s obscure work Mathematicium Graphixium, leading many to bellieve to belive he might be the founder or atleast an early member of the secret society. Many prominent thinkers and scientists including Plato, Archimedes (before he ran naked), Galileo, Michelangelo and Wanjari have been alleged to be members of the BBC. It’s true purpose is still being debated. The society is said to be so secret that even some of it’s members are not aware of their membership.}

^{2 Some say that a double Trojan was used instead of the logic bomb.}

^{3 These tales of mystery and mayhem were faithfully chronicled by the Doctor in The Fantastical Adventures of DJ. Many famous tales including The Mystery Of The Missing Underwear were said to part of it. Unfortunately the manuscript was stolen from the publishers Chattan and Pottan. Some say the BBC are behind it. The book was said to contain the origin of the popular quote “Fate is the question, Time is the answer”. It is now believed to be lost forever.}

^{4 It is said that when Axxo attempted to show the Arabs his birthmark, they accused him of indecent exposure. The veracity of this statement is however disputed.}

^{5 It is during this time that Axxo is said to have indulged in experiments involving genes. His only pleaure in this time was abusing pregnant women earning him the nick-name “Tormenter of Unborn Babies”.}

^{6 Axxo called them the Robot Revolutions.}

^{7 Or so we think.}

2.3 Deal

“Are you single ?”

“I’m single and willing to mingle.”

“Then let us go into the jungle”, Crime Boss Vulcan giggled at his own lame repartee, the several jelly rolls of fat adorning his body jiggling in chorus. He typed away IM after IM to naughty nubile nymphets from Poland to Mozambique, blissfully unaware that he was being tracked by half a dozen anti-paedophile units from around the world. His henchman PK, resembling a large block of granite in color, stillness and a handful of other attributes, stood behind Vulcan, entirely disinterested in his master’s activities. His eyes however were constantly on the lookout for a bullet, ICBM or a suicide bomber heading his master’s way; his body willing to sacrifice itself at a moments notice. No one knew what the PK in PK’s name stood for. There were rumors however that PK whispers his true name to a  person before he breaks his neck thus making it the last thing he heard. Of course no one alive could verify it.

Vulcan minimised his IMs and observed the CC feeds. It was time. He closed his laptop and walked to a door, PK now more alert (if such a thing was possible) and close behind, his right hand resting lightly on his concealed weapon. Vulcan pushed open the door and went through.

They sat around the table, Vulcan’s cronies Aplomb, Ferdelance, Incognito, Chota Dragon etc. ,masters of all Vulcan’s evils ranging from kidnap and extortion to gambling and prostitution. Vulcan heaved his bulk on the chair, unzipped his fanny pack and pulled out a Snickers bar. For a a few moments, there was only the noise of Vulcan’s canines, inscissors, molars and pre-molars wreaking havoc upon the delicious bar of chocolate interspersed with the best of peanuts as his eyes went from one thug to another.

“How many of you were sleeping on the sidewalk and picking pockets when I took you in ?” All of them looked down in shame, an emotion uncommon to all of them.

“How many of you have taken from me and come back begging for more ?”, Vulcan’s voice grew louder and he was already panting. PK was alert, his fingers lightly fingering the speed dial for Emergency Services.

Suddenly the sprinklers above them came to life and a sweet odour filler the room. Vulcan and his men realised in horror that it was gasoline that was being poured upon them.

“How many thugs does it take to fix up one Jigsaw ?”, spoke a voice from the door. All heads turned. It was Jigsaw.

PK took a step towards the miscreant. “Ooh….Now lets not all get flared up” ,Jigsaw smacked his lips and slowly opened his coat revealing a lighted flare held tightly in the other hand. One spark was enough to incinerate the entire warehouse. PK took a step back.

“None of you will move and none of you will speak until you have heard what I gotta say”, ordered Jigsaw, his voice unnervingly unwavering. He began walking towards Gudham’s criminal brotherhood.

“I have a proposal for you, Vulcan. As you can see, none of these wasteland dogs you feed so haughtily is of any good when the going gets tough. Today I almost robbed your bank. Tomorrow I may slit you throat.”

PK slowly reached for his silver shurikens. Vulcan held up his hand.

“So what are you saying ?”

“What I’m saying is that I might be your only chance to get a lasting grip in this rotting city. Vulcan looked completely dumbfounded. Jigsaw proceeded to elaborate.

“If you look carefully Vulcan, you will see that greater men have fallen. Or women for that matter. Sometime ago when you were peddling porno on the streets of Gudham, there were two who took themselves to be quite infallible. Where is Prof. Axxo now? Have you seen the Dominatrix lately ? What I mean to say is that the enemy of your enemy is by default your friend. There are far greater dangers to your kingdom of sleaze than this poor criminal mastermind.”

“So what do you propose ?”

Jigsaw took a long look at the now drenched occupants of the room and licked his lips, “It’s simple. Kill the Kundan.”

“If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it ?”, sneered Chota Dragon.

“Shush.” Vulcan silenced him.His disobedience would cost him a lot.

Vulcan glared at Jigsaw, “Name your price.”

“The largest diamond in your possession, Vulcan’s third ball.”

“Fine. Bring me Captain Kundan’s head on a silver platter and you can have the stone.”

“Keep the platter ready.”

2.2 Rescue

“Captain Kunnaaaa…..” the familiar cry of distress shoved it’s way into Kundan’s auditory canals and threw itself on to his eardrum. Kundan was jolted from his stupor. He leaped onto his feet.

“The people need my help”, he informed as he ran to the door.

“As if he can really do something”, sniggered Gaymant in a low voice.

“We shouldn’t rely on Super Heroes anymore”, said Dolby in exasperation. “Come on Inspector Machan, let’s see if we can resolve the issue ourselves.” Machan grunted his disapproval but got up anyway.

Since his Kunn-bike had repairs pending, Captain Kundan caught a cab to the source of the cry for help. It turned out to be the Central Bank of Gudham, one of the oldest financial institutions in the country. As Kundan ran up the steps, he noticed a faint trail of smoke exiting the main entrance. Kundan stood aside and peeked in.

There beside the teller’s counter sat around 20 people of various shapes, sizes, colors and ages; their hands tightly bound behind their backs. “Some of them might be gay”, muttered Kundan explaining the call for help to himself. “Damn, these people are everywhere now.” Back when Grom Hell had the option to choose whom to serve, he had gone for the smallest minority he could find. Now with more people coming out of the closet, Kundan was losing many a night’s sleep.

As Kundan looked on, he saw several masked gunmen patrolling the floor. Amidst them stood their leader, a man with horrible white spots and red lines painted upon his face. He was of medium height and wore a long black coat buttoned to his neck. In his hands he held a revolver and a switch blade that he swung from side to side lazily while enjoying the sight of the terrified people around him.

It was Jigsaw.

“There, Captain Kundan has come to rescue us”, cried out a little boy of maybe 6 years whom the villains had not bothered to tie up. Kundan was bad at hiding.

The gunmen trained their weapons upon Kundan. As Jigsaw stared at him Captain Kundan gulped and stepped into the bank.

“Ah, what do we have here? Wrong stop, clown. The circus is at the other end of the town”, said Jigsaw smacking his lips as if Kundan was a delicious chocolate mousse with vanilla cream and red cherries on top.

Kundan gathered his wits, “So you know where the circus is. I thought you were lost.” Jigsaw merely grunted. Kundan discreetly ran his hand along his back pocket praying for a weapon of some sort to defend himself. His magic goo won’t be enough this time. He could only find a pencil stub. He gripped it in his hand.

Jigsaw’s eagle eyes noticed Kundan’s movement and his shifty stance. “Drop what you are holding, Mister”, the menace laid bare in his voice, “Be a nice little boy and say hello to Death from me.”

Kundan gulped, “I’ve seen better than you, Jigsaw. And as for death, I play poker with him every other day.”

“Too bad death has a better hand this time. Now drop it !”

Kundan glanced around. The terrified people were looking at him as their only chance to live. And he had no exit strategy. This was it. The end. He would die a rabid dog’s death. No one would remember him. It was all over. The pencil left his grip.

As Kundan’s pencil struck the floor, smoke spewed forth from everywhere. In under 10 seconds thick smoke filled the bank reducing visibility to zero. There were shouts and yelps all around. Kundan fell to the floor and curled up praying he wouldn’t catch a stray bullet.

On hearing Machan’s voice, Kundan sprang to his feet. Inspector Machan, Dolby D’souza and a small cavalry of policemen rushed into the bank.

Kundan ran to Dolby, hugged him and used the opportunity to grope him. Dolby pushed him away and glared.

“Dolby, you saved me”, cried Kundan, “Please feel free to check if I am injured.”

“No, thank you”, replied an angry Dolby, “The EMT will be here shortly.” Inspector Machan and the policemen began freeing the captive civilians. Captain Kundan moved closer to Dolby.

“Dolby, you once told me that we would be together. Did you mean it ?”

“When I said that Kundan, I meant crime fighting, not pillow fighting.”

The next day, papers ran the story of how Captain Kundan’s high tech weapon, the Smoke Stub, saved two dozen lives. Plenty of eye witness accounts were included. There was no mention of Inspector Machan’s smoke grenades.

1.5 Spy

Lycan was the darkest of them all. Fuelled by rage and driven by an insatiable hunger for destruction, Lycan was a formidable ally and a dreaded foe. As he stepped into the light, they saw the many scars that lined his once handsome face. He was shabbily dressed and hadn’t shaved in a week. Grom Hell ran to meet his old chum,”How have you been?”

“Alive”, replied Lycan. “So whats this huge trouble you are in ?” Grom recounted everything again; this time deviating even more from the truth which Super Swami noticed with amazement.

“So, now would be the best time to attack the Slayers. Most of them would have left with the Dominatrix. So we rush in and take them, including the Mighty Nasty Hulk”, Grom proudly outlined his plan.

“From what you say Grom, this hulk sounds a bit too big. Are you sure we can take him down?”, Super Swami raised his concerns.

“I shall blind him with my multiple DNA magic goo. You two just push him over and presto, the Mighty Nasty Hulk will be a Much Nicer Hulk”, said Grom Hell. Lycan agreed. They set out for the junkyard meanwhile catching up on each others’ activities.

Now Lycan too had a troubled past. In fact his life was a succession of tragedies each more painful than the last. Like Super Swami, Lycan also had been born without any powers to boast of. He had a real name once that left his memory a long time ago. Separated from his parents at the Mardi Gras, Lycan entered his first foster home at five years of age. Abused by many and abusing many, Lycan grew up. He first went to prison when he snatched a girl’s necklace for his dear friend Mani. Before Mani could catch him and win the damsel’s gratitude, the people at the bus-stop caught him and handed him over to the Policia. From there began a life of petty crime and thievery.

Sentenced to the death row for a crime he hadn’t committed, Lycan was illegaly purchased by Professor Axxo for his ‘Weapon-sex’ programme. In his quest to discover the next step of evolution, Prof. Axxo had conducted several inhuman experiments before deciding on electronic symbiosis. Fused with lupine genes, Lycan was too uncontrollable that the Professor ordered his death. He escaped and had been hunting the miscreant since.

They reached the junkyard in good time. A few of the thugs were milling around. Some had drunk themselves to sleep. “Lets go”, said Grom. He was in full spirits.

“Wait, let me transform”, said Lycan. And he transformed – it was more like deformed – right before their eyes. His torso expanded and he grew taller by a foot. Hair sprouted all over his body and face and his nails grew out. Lycan winced in pain as his muscles dilated to their maximum. Finally he was ready. Howling loudly they ran into the Slayers.

The goons, expecting none of this, never knew what hit them. But their cries woke up the lot who were dozing nearby. Shouting their own warcry, the Slayers pounced upon our heroes with swords and chains. Super Swami, with a heavy blow of his fist sent half a dozen Slayers flying everyway. Lycan’s sinewy arms made several of them aware of their own mortality. Captain Kundan bounced around the battle field, evading every single blow that came his way. Eventually, many Slayers who were attempting to hit him gave up in desperation and went to attack the other two.

All this hullabaloo woke up the Mighty Nasty Hulk who was sleeping nearby. Immensely enraged, he charged at Captain Kundan. Seeing the mammoth coming at him like a train without brakes, Kundan cried for help. Lycan dashed to his friend and punched the hulk in his face. The hulk felt moisture around his mouth. Wiping it with the back of his hand, he saw it was blood. His OWN blood !!!

With a roar he thumped his chest and leaped at Lycan. “Kundan, now. Goo him”, roared Lycan. Even Super Swami was ready for the hulk. But the goo never came. Glancing back, Captain Kundan’s heels disappearing above the heads of the Slayers was the last thing Lycan saw before the hulk’s great fist came crashing upon him.

Once again Kundan had somersaulted.

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Kundan hid behind a rusty mound that had once been a car. He was trembling all over. As he saw his friends being tied up and dragged away, Kundan felt nauseous. He fell on all fours and retched. Unknown to Kundan, the Dominatrix’s aide Tingu too had been hiding behind the same dump. Raging over the fact that he was not taken for a high level meeting (the one with Professor Axxo), Tingu was making the Dominatrix pay dearly in his fantasies behind the dump when all hell broke loose. Carefully holstering the equipment he had been using, Tingu concealed himself expertly. Seeing Captain Kundan relieving himself, Tingu saw an opportunity to get into the Dominatrix’s good books. Silently he picked up an old windshield wiper lying nearby. Summoning all his energy he brought it sharply upon Captain Kundan. Kundan who was hypersensitive felt a club smash his skull. Thenceforward all was black………

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With a nasty smile plastered on his face, Professor Axxo rolled out of the De-fibrillo-vibrator. As he entered his vast bedroom, he heard a whisper,”Psssttt…… Professor, it’s me.”

Shocked, but only for an instant, the Professor drew out his RXG3000ALTI, an ultra-modern super-sonic semi-automatic laser gun with non stop burst fire mechanism. “Show yourself”, he demanded.

“I’m right in front of you, Professor. If you could switch on the lights…..”

“Hmm…… OK. But I have a gun pointed at you. So don’t try anything funny.” The lights came on. There was no one ! Shocked again for another instant, the Professor wheeled around. There he was ! The gun was again trained on the intruder.

It was Tingu, the Dominatrix’s aide. But the professor did not recognise him.

“It’s me Professor, Tingu. You sent me to spy on the Dominatrix.” Still no sign of realisation.

“Perhaps you know me this way”, said Tingu with a smile. And he proceeded to peel off his face. As the flesh mask came off bit by bit, the Professor exclaimed in shock,”Pappu !!”

Yes dear readers, it was infact the infamous Pappu. Wanted by authorities in 24 nations all over the globe, he was also know as Pandey or The Bossad (click here). A master of deception and an expert in disguising, The Bossad had penetrated several organisations including Red Cross, Amnesty International, Salvation Army and Thongs For Boys. Now he worked for Professor Axxo.

“Yes Professor. It’s me”, said Pappu a.k.a The Bossad. “I did a favour for the Dominatrix and she let me in on one of her meetings”, he continued,”They are planning to off you Professor, now that your guard is down.”

“Hmmmm……..”, said the Professor thoughtfully, his pleasant mood replaced by a rough one. It was time to make a few hard decisions.

1.4 Truce

Listen carefully reader, for you shall hear this only once. The following episode is chopped into several segments all of which are important. So concentrate hard and miss no detail for the Grom Story about to go into full throttle. The evening was darker than usual, thought Grom Hell as he walked to the meeting. In the dim light thrown by the street lamps, vendors were packing their wares and getting ready to leave. A few suspicious characters lingered by the alley-mouths. Grom Hell was wearing a silk shirt given to him by one of his fathers. He was very proud of it and took care to flaunt it whenever he wore it. His friends would envy him, of that Grom Hell was sure. “Captain Kunnaaaaaaaaa”, the cry emanated from near by. Grom Hell raced to a burning building. Two gay men were sobbing uncontrollably. “Our baby, our baby”, one of them managed to say. Grom Hell suddely suspected if the fire was Molotov’s doing. “Damn! I must have left the stove on while we were making out”, the other gay cursed. Without any regard for his own life or his father’s (atleast one of theirs) silk shirt (there was no time to change into his costume), Grom Hell leaped into the inferno (click here). On landing, Grom Hell suddenly lost his vision. Wildly groping his own face, Grom realised that he had been wearing dark shades all along. He removed them and tossed them away. Searching around, he found the baby sleeping peacefully in its cradle. Lifting it gently, Grom Hell dashed back through the fire. Meanwhile in another part of the town, at the HeadQuarters of The Slayers, the Mighty Nasty Hulk was still serving his punishment. He had been spanked twenty times and was sent to a corner without food and water . He was hungry beyond comtemplation and was enraged that the Big Black Dude had got off so easily. He (the Big Black Dude) was always good at osculating the rear end, fumed the Hulk. Very well, decided the Hulk, he would get his due next time they wrestled. <> The rendezvous was held at a neutral venue, a strip club off the highway call Vulcan’s Long Legs, owned by the loan shark Vulcan. Professor Axxo was the first to arrive with Molotov and a bunch of other bald heads. They scouted the place for hidden Slayers and rooftop snipers. Prof. Axxo’s robo-dog e-sniffed the place for explosives and alchohol. The Professor then realised that the place was a bar and let the alcohol go. When Molotov declared the place safe, the Professor wheeled in. Shortly thereafter, the Dominatrix arrived with even more security. The atmosphere was electric (pardon the pun, Axxo’s gadgets had nothing to with it). The guards waited outside as The Domnatrix and Big Black Dude went in. They walked past the psychedelic lights and the wildly gyrating bodies to a corner booth where the Professor was seated. Molotov stod beside him, hands behind his back. The Dominatrix slid in. “Can I offer you something ?”, asked the Professor. “What makes you think I would accept anything you have to offer? Besides they say you don’t possess the appropriate equipment”, she quipped, a nasty smile adorning her face. “As I recall, Miss ….er..”, the Professor glanced at her skimpy outfit with increasing distaste, “Miss Leatherbottom, it was not me who requested this meeting.” “You nasty hairless….”. “Now now”,intevened the Big Black Dude, “lets all quit the name calling and go on with the business. I’m sorry for the lady, Professor. You may slap me for any errors if necessary.” Without wasting a moment the Professor leaped up and imprinted his palm sharply upon the Dude’s cheek. Not entirely expecting it, giant tears rolled out of his eyes. The Dominatrix then whipped him for crying in public and shaming her. Howling loudly, the Dude ran out. “Back to business. I have a proposition”,said the Dominatrix calmly. True to his word Super Swami was waiting at the specified street corner. “Where’s the other guy?”, asked Grom Hell slightly disappointed that fifty percent of his remaining friends had not turned up for the meeting. “He’ll come. He always does”, assured Super Swami as he walked to Grom Hell and shook his hand. Before we delve into the events of that fateful night, a bit of background knowledge might be helpful. At the tender age of four, when he was not super, Swami climbed his neighbour’s wall to see her in the shower. What he did not know then was that she was a nuclear physicist and was involved in a study concerning the effect of nuclear material in chimpanzee metabolism. To cut a long story short, a slip of the foot and Swami found himself neck deep (literally) in radioactive primate stool samples. He was promptly rushed to a hospital where they washed him well but found him glowing downwards from the neck. Swami overcame his disabilities and went on to become a prize wining body builder . But as fate would have it, he fell under the influence of bad company. He was tested positive for a plethora of illegal drugs and banned for life. Swami lost his awesome body eating junk food and boozing, occasionally becoming the city’s guest (ie in prison) for some woman related issue. But one thing Swami still retained was his superhuman strength. For this reason, the Council Of Superheroes at times of dire need hired him for a fee. “Tell me Grom Hell. What’s bugging you?”, asked Swami taking a sip from his beer bottle. And Grom Hell began recounting all his troubles. “So tell me Professor”, began the Dominatrix running her hands playfully along Axxo’s shoulder,”How does a man of your merit end up being a villain ?” The Professor still wore his virtual reality glasses and so imagined her in a variety of costumes and without a costume also. But the tingling sensation that he expected and prayed to feel never came. It was no different from browsing through a book of childrens paintings. At least he had some fuel for the De-fibrillo-vibrator, the Professor consoled himself. He brushed her away and spoke curtly,”Tell me about your proposition.” Presently Vulcan, the loan shark who owned the strip joint strolled over to their booth. He held a bottle of cheap vodka and was attempting to hum some tune. Seeing the Dominatrix in her skimpy outfit, Vulcan mistook her for one of his own strippers. “Hey chica mama”, called out Vulcan,”Come here and give papi a lappy.” The whip cracked loudly and papi ran off rubbing his rear. Turning to the Professor, the Dominatrix said,”You and I, we’re both warriors fighting for our own causes. Why dont we fight together ? We could save money and shed more blood.” She let out a shrill laughter.”Give me half the city”, explained the Dominatrix,”Chase the humans to my side. Do the gays as you please. What say you Professor ?” The Professor analysed that idea from every angle. It wasn’t bad. Once the gays were dead whats to stop him from killing the Dominatrix and the others ? It was a win – win situation. The Professor nodded. Leaning closer to him, the Dominatrix whispered to him, her lips lightly teasing his ears,” I knew you would cum around for me.” The Professor tried hard. No tingling. The Dominatrix left first. As the BOTM were leaving, the Professor seemed undecided for a moment. Only a moment. He turned to Molotov and said,” Torch the dump. We don’t want to leave any evidence, however small.” Molotov was happy to oblige. He carefully procured a bottle from inside his coat and hauled it at Vulcan’s Long Legs. Vulcan being known for his stinginess had neither precautions not safety equipment. The place burned lively without much effort. The bright light bouncing off their bald heads, they left the place, Molotov on his legs and the Professor on wheels (click here). “You should have seen him running”, laughed Grom Hell as he narrated his earlier encounter with Molotov. As you might have guessed, the facts were horribly distorted. “But the Mighty Nasty Hulk, now he’s of a different class. I will not be able to take him down alone but with your help Swami, he’ll be bound and gagged in no time. But we must strike while the iron is hot. I have a plan, an excellent one.” “Now what might that be?”,boomed a voice from the dark. Grom Hell and Super Swami looked up to see their old friend after a long time. As the shadows parted, in stepped Lycan.

1.3 Enemies

Five miles to the north of where the fiery battle took place was a huge yard for dumping e-waste. Electronic components including motherboards, hard disks, cables of various nature and a vast variety of processors piled upon each other. In the centre of this vast spectacle of circuitry, was built a gigantic warehouse that served as the headquarters of The Brotherhood Of The Mottas (or BOTM as it was popularly known). The place was a virutal fortress seemingly impregnable with its state of the art surveillance, security and weaponry.

It was here that our Molotov stopped the running which he had begun in the last chapter. Burned and blackened beyond recognition, he was briefly bashed up by the heavily tattooed guards before they realised he was one of them. Molotov stumbled into the lobby whereupon he was informed that Professor Axxo was in the De-fibrillo-vibrator. Only Molotov was allowed access in there besides the professor himself.

The De-fibrillo-vibrator was an incredible machine of mammoth proportions that the Professor himself built from the scrap surrounding his HQ. It allowed the Professor to recharge all his robotic constituents (some internal, some external) simultaneously. After the last war with the humans where his vital appendage was severed off, the Professor added extensive capabilities to the machine that inject hormones into his cerebellum which allow him to relive those brief moments of carnal pleasure.

When Molotov entered the De-fibrillo-vibrator, Professor Axxo was hooked up completely. He had on his virtual glasses and it was obvious to Molotov that he was more than recharging himself. A bright smile lit up his face and he softly moaned, “Yes baby, just like that”.(click here) Molotov watched in horror as the Professor virtually drained himself of his bodily fluids (an attempt to describe this would disgust many a reader and so is avoided).

Wheeling around satisfied, the professor saw a burned, blackened and shocked Molotov and reddened instantly. “Just boosting my electronic spine”, he attempted an explanation. “You reek of defeat, Molotov. What happened to you? Were you not able to handle a few measly shopkeepers?”, he then asked Molotov silently thanking Molotov’s appearance for the much needed distraction.

“It’s this new oil that I use in the bombs. The smell is unbearable and cost is ridiculously high,” explained Molotov. It took him a moments thought and Prof. Axxo’s unwavering glare to realise the smell was part of a metaphor

“Anyway”, continued Molotov, “”I went and wreaked havoc in the Eastern District as you instucted, Professor. All was well till Captain Kundan showed up. I had him on his knees when he shot something slimy and I went blind.”

“Hmmm…..must be the magic goo. It’s an organic substance with multiple DNA compositions, the nature of which has not been yet determined. Apparently Kundan is more dangerous than we’ve been informed. I should have finished him when I had the chance”, said Professor Axxo, the image of Kundan cradling his soulmate Seenkay’s lifeless body on that eventful rainy night briefly flashing in his mind.

“Shouldn’t we do something about him, Professor?”, asked Molotov as they exited the De-fibrillo-vibrator.(click here)

“Molotov, my brother and friend, leave the thinking to me. Proceed with the plan we decided upon. Kundan won’t be around for long. I’ve called a professional to take care of him”, said Prof. Axxo. “It is time for evolution to strike a mighty blow, Molotov. Humans have been around for too long corrupting and polluting everything they touch.” His mind a whirling vortex of thoughts and emotions, the professor continued, “The age of Homo sapiens is coming to an end. It is now the era of the Homo robotica.”

“Will it be long now, Professor? “, inquired Molotov.

With a faraway look in his eyes, the Professor replied, “Fate is the question, time is the answer.” Molotov nodded though he understood none of it.

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Holding a sketch of the Mighty Nasty Hulk drawn by the geek sketch artist, Dodo Dildo, based on a tattered Anie’s description, Grom Hell wandered the streets. He roamed for hours, slightly on the lookout for an attack by Molotov, though his real identity was fairly secure. He reached the outskirts of the city and was resting briefly when he heard noises from behind the bush he was leaning on. Grom ducked out of sight. Sure enough after a while, the Mighty Nasty Hulk emerged from behind the large bush zipping up. What he was doing there will remain one of the greatest mysteries of all time along with the moon landing and the Kennedy assassination, but is not part of our story anyway.

Grom discreetly followed the thug to a junkyard not far away. There he saw around a hundred members of The Slayers drinking and playing cards. Some were engaged in minor skirmishes. As the Mighty Nasty Hulk approached his mates, they roared and clapped hands loudly. Presently a Big Black Dude emerged from the crowd. He was also equally imposing as the Hulk. As the onlookers cheered on, the two giants engaged each other in a fearsome battle. Grom looked in utter disbelief as the titans threw each other around, acutely aware of the sharp pain growing in his underbelly. The crowd became insane and egged the fighters on.

All was in a frenzy when a sharp report cracked the air. In an instant there fell a silence so intense after the uproar that it was defeaning. The goons, mostly male, stood in attention as in walked the Dominatrix. True to Anie’s recounting, she was frightening in her leather suit and the large whip looked menacing. She approached Mighty Nasty Hulk and the Big Black Dude. They swallowed.

“Have I not told you to maintain decorum while I’m away ?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am”, they shouted in unison.

“Hmmm…….so you’ve been naughty boys. You know what I do to naughty boys?”, inquired the Dominatrix. The giants shook their heads.

“I flog them”, spat the Dominatrix cracking her whip once more. Grom felt a hot dampness spreading inside his trousers. “Inside my quarters. Now”, commanded the Dominatrix. Turning to her aide Tingu cowering beside her, she said, “Setup a meeting with Professor Axxo. Tell him I have matters of mutual interest to discuss.”

Silently as he had come (but slightly smellier), Grom Hell retreated, fading away into the shadows, dreading the moment his two worst enemies got together and the repercussions it would have on the city and most of all on himself.

1.2 Fire

“Captain Kunnaaaa……..”, the desperate cry for help penetrated Grom’s senses and ricocheted along his auditory canal. Grom dropped the glass of toxicant and leaped up instantly, like he had been shot in the ass.

“My dear Veronica. Duty calls and I’m afraid I have to take leave of you”, Grom the gentleman excused himself. “Darling, do not forget the check”, he reminded her as he trotted off hurriedly into the crowd. Miss Veronica M was by now well accustomed to Grom Hell’s sudden departures.

As Grom moved away from the cafe, he scanned the place for some shady place to change into his costume. After all he couldn’t risk disclosing his identity. Not in a job as dangerous as this. He spotted a telephone booth at a distance. An old lady was holding the receiver and yelling loudly into it. “Off with the telephone oldie. People are dying around her”, shouted Grom as he threw her out.

“Damnation be upon you, Son of Satan”, cursed the old woman as she walked away. Grom couldn’t care less. With the Slayers and the Council hot on his heels, he din’t know what Damnation could add to his worries. Grom then pulled out a cape from his trouser pocket and tied it firmly around his neck. He then stripped completely and donned his trousers pulling up his undies after them.

The door to the booth shattered to a thousand pieces and people gazed in fear and admiration as out stepped CAPTAIN KUNDAN !!!

Kundan ran along the streets, the plea for help expertly guiding him. After a few hundred metres, he was out of breath and so hailed a cab for the rest of the way. Upon reaching his destination, a towering inferno greeted him. Destruction and mayhem were everywhere. Flames engulfed the streets and the vehicles parked at their edges. Thick black smoke spewed forth from their oil tanks many of which had exploded with devastating effect. At the edge of this hell hole stood a bunch of poor onlookers most of whom had lost everything they owned.

In the middle of this fiery display stood Molotov, consigliere of The Evil Brotherhood Of The Mottas the man responsible for it. At his feet lay the poor gay who had called out for Captain Kundan’s help. Molotov threw back his head and let out a shrill cackle of laughter, chilling the hearts of those around him. Captain Kundan ducked behind a grabage can.

“Is there no one else?”,yelled Molotov from amidst the flames. “Are you finally out of men?”,challenged Molotov. Kundan felt a shiver run down his spine in the sweltering heat.

“Oh look! There he is”, Kundan felt a wave of nausea as an eight year old discovered him. “Captain Kundan has come to save us”, announced the child in glee. Ah, the innocence of childhood.

With great difficulty, Captain Kundan got up. Catching glimpses of Molotov grinning insanely through the wild fire, Kundan gulped but realised quickly that he had no choice but to face the demon. Captain Kundan stepped in through the flames, the vicious smoke invading his lungs effortlessly. He coughed in extreme discomfort. When he raised his head, he found Molotov observing him intently.

“And they say I dress bad”, snickered the evil Molotov. He was of Captain Kundan’s age. He wore a long coat with several pockets that held bottles filled with highly infalmmable substances mainly propane isotopes (thus earning him his nickname ‘Molotov’). From time to time Molotov pulled out a bottle and tossed it into the fire coaxing and nurturing it.

“Go back to the hell you came from Molotov. War is for men”, threatened Captain Kundan. The crowd jeered.

“Flee pink suited stranger. It’s time for your milk and cookies”, countered Molotov as he flung yet another bottle into the fire. The flames roared in delight.

“Well don’t say I din’t warn you”, said Captain Kundan as he threw a right hook at Molotov who easily sidestepped it. Kundan felt his adversary’s fist knock the wind out of him. He leaped back and punched Molotov this time catching him cleanly below the right jaw. Molotov stepped back and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Nice. I like it when little kitty puts up a fight”, he remarked.

With a roar Captain Kundan went for his throat. What followed was a scintillating display of almost every form of martial arts known to man ranging from Egyptian stick fencing to Japanese Tanindo, everything in between included. Finally Molotov switched to Krav Maga, the only technique not known to Captain Kundan. Kundan was thrown down and landed with a sickening thud. He realised his end was near. Captain Kundan’s vision had begun to blur.

“Do you know death when you see it Captain Kundan ?”,mocked Molotov as he fished out another bottle and kicked Kundan in the groin. “Professor Axxo sends his regards.”

The mention of Prof. Axxo triggered something at the back of Kundan’s mind. The heat was insufferable and he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He was drowning in his own sweat and Molotov’s insane laughter echoed in his ears. Professor Axxo…….

Professor Axxo ! The villain who was responsible for all of Kundan’s miseries. The bald headed monster who had killed his only chum Seenkay. Seenkay…..dear Seenkay. The memories of his dear friend flooded Kundan’s mind and his hands found their way below his belt. He remembered the steamy nights and the feel of Seenkay’s skin against his own. Captain Kundan’s hands found his anger ‘growing’ and his resolve ‘hardening’. He could not die now, not like this, Kundan told himself. He let the rage build up in him and then with a loud cry he shot a blob of magic goo (one of Captain Kundan’s many unique abilities) at Molotov, instantly blinding him. He then leaped onto his feet and delivered a volley of blows at his temporarily disabled opponent.

Molotov fell back shattering the many bottles retained in his coat. His screams grew louder as the hungry flames devored him up. He twisted himself and got rid of the coat and ran through the flames. With a roar that could scare a charging rhinoceros, Captain Kundan followed him, the smoke nearly killing him. Finally he gave up and sat down exhausted, living once again to fight another day………

1.1 Flashback

Grom Hell left the hospital when he was full and wandered aimlessly. He had a couple of hours to spend till his lunch date with Miss Veronica M, the buxom news-reporter.Before we tread further, a small flashback would be helpful. Grom Hell was not alone always, you see. He had a partner in crime fighting, another superhero by the name of Sonic (Real name : Brat). He was a cheerful dude who along with Grom Hell had put away many a menace to the society (or so claims Grom). But all changed when they were pit against the Mighty Milfhunter. The Milfhunter had taken an entire subway coach full of milfs as hostage and it was upto our heroes to save them.

Captain Kundan and Sonic fought shoulder to shoulder parrying blows and attacking swiftly but surely. But The Milfunter had come prepared. He was no wino himself. With a staggering height of seven feet and an unbeleivable 200 pounds.

It was becoming tough but the milfs saw hope.Then came the infamous somersault of Captain Kundan.

From here, the story varies widely. Some say Captain Kundan leaped away from the fight and ran into the crowd. Other insist that Kundan leaped into the fight with increasing vigour. We may never know the truth of this but watever it was, the end came quick enough for Sonic. In the earth-shaking explosion that ensued, Sonic lost his right foot and the milfs disappeared for ever.

After being deemed unfit for service, Sonic was dishonourably discharged. Soon his girl friend (the sulty Miss Veronica M) dumped him saying she would rather go out with a gay in pink suit than a one legged dumbo. Shattered beyond belief, Brat resorted to a life of petty crime and poverty, his only driving force being revenge.

After it was discovered The Slayers were targetting gays, Grom Hell had become terrified. If his sexual inclination got out, there was no saying what would happen to him. It was then that he met Miss Veronica M, his ex-patner’s ex-girlfriend. He hooked up with her to maintain appearances(even if she is unaware of it) and made it a point to appear in public once a while. Though Veronica had hinted at consummating their relationship (more than once), Grom politely reminded her of his vow to maintain celibacy till marriage.

As usual Grom and Veronica sat outside a cafe and exchanged pleasantries; Grom talking loud enough for his neighbours to clearly make out that he was seriously invovlved with the woman. As they ordered, Veronica M turned to Grom and asked,”So, What about this Dominatrix and her gang?”

“The Dom-what ?”, Grom almost fell off his seat.

“The Dominatrix. Thats what the media’s dubbed the leader of The Slayers. We talked to the survivng witness. He gave us a neat description. She sounds real bad.”

Grom Hell silently cursed Anie.

Unbeknownst to Grom Hell, Brat, his old partner, had tapped his phone and was aware of this rendezvous between his two least favourite people on the planet. Vengeance seethed in him like a bubbling volcano. “Payback time, Capatain Kundan”, whispered Brat as he silently hobbled into the back of the cafe. An ex-superhero, he had no problems in over-powering the poor waiter. He then added copius amounts of selenium and arsenic to Grom Hell’s cafe mocha latte and mixed it nicely. Disguising himself expertly in the attire of the fallen waiter, he delivered it to the unsuspecting Grom Hell. Unaware of his immminent yet painful death residing in the tall glass of fragrant coffee, Grom raised it to his lips…………..

2.1 Identity

Grom Hell surveyed the sad excuse for a motorbike before him.It was the only vehicle he could purchase with the money that came along with the Order Of Batman, Second Class. The bike was rusty and missing a lot of parts. Moreover it was painted a ghastly lime green and had pink wheels.

Grom Hell swung his leg over it and gingerly lowered himself onto his precious possession. A few parts creaked loudly and the handlebar wobbled. He kickstarted it. A large cloud of black smoke and dust rose up and enveloped him. Coughing violently and shielding his eyes, Grom Hell leaped off the bike. “Needs more repair”, mumbled Grom moodily.

“Condom-condom-condom-condom-condom-condom……” It was Grom’s mobile.

“Hello ?”

“We have a meeting in twenty minutes”, informed a grumpy voice on the other side; a voice Grom Hell hated to his very core. “I’ll be there”, replied Grom but Gaymant had hung up.

The room had so much hatred that if hatred had been carbon monoxide, they would all have been dead by now. Grom Hell (now Captain Kundan) hated Gaymant for his crude language and other vulgar reasons mentioned in the last tale. Gaymant returned every ounce of the feeling. Dolby D’souza hated both of them for making advances towards him. And Machan hated everyone.

“As if we did not have enough trouble already”, whined an exasperated Gaymant referring to the crime lord Vulcan. Yes, dear readers, since our last heroic adventure of the most misunderstood Superhero ever, things have come along way in Gudham City. The demise of the deadly Dominatrix and the incarceration of the megalomaniac Professor had left a gaping void in the fabric of Gudham City. The smaller players had no one to fear anymore and anarchy reigned. People like Vulcan with deep pockets and a penchant for violence saw a golden opportunity and grabbed it. Vulcan grew from loan shark to crime boss.

“Could Jigsaw be working for Vulcan”, Machan expressed a doubt.

“Impossible”, said Dolby, “Jigsaw is still wanted for robberies in 13 countries. He never works for anyone. His telltale sign is a piece of jigsaw puzzle he leaves behind”

There came a knock and a constable entered handing Machan a small folder whispering something in his ear.

“Gentlemen, we got a breakthrough. Here’s some footage from the Museum,” Machan turned and pressed a button on his remote. A large screen came to life before them and displayed a still picture of Jigsaw exiting the Museum Of Gore, his painted face illuminated by the serene moonlight.

“We have his identity,” announced Machan as if he had already captured the menace all by himself. “His name is Charles Somuraj and no one knows where exactly he is from.” Captain Kundan suddenly thought of his own parentage. “He was living in Northern Siberia when tragedy struck him. Reports say that his wife had gone out to get firewood. A renegade brigadier of The Mossad who was in hiding (our more astute readers might zero in on who this could be) mistook her for a grizzly out to forage. To be fair to the soldier, she was rather hairy. Anyways the poor creature limped back to the cabin and died in Somuraj’s arms.” Here Machan pulled out a hanky and dried his eyes. “For the next eight years, Somu attended a handful of universities earning degrees in Theoretical Physics, Materials Engineering, Crystalline Chemistry blah blah. Then 3 years ago he dropped off the radar completely. A string of robberies from France to Siberia, all involving diamonds have been attributed to him. Now he’s in Gudham City. This………”

“This is our chance to nab him, gentlemen”, broke in Dolby.

“Shouldn’t we put a request for more Superheroes ?”, asked Machan unwittingly betraying his trust in the institution he represented.

“The treasury has no money”, whined Gaymant again, “Besides we have not paid for the last ones we hired. But hey, we have Captain Kundan, Gudham’s own pink knight.”

“We don’t need superheroes. The people of Gudham must believe in themselves We can catch him guys”, encouraged Dolby D’souza.

Captain Kundan felt the uneasiness grow around him. Uptill this point he was basking in the glory of events described in the last tale of adventure. No more of that seemed possible. Now he had to act. A cold shiver ran down his spine or whatever was there in place of it. Before him, Jigsaw’s grim face grew darker.

2.0 Museum

Gudham City, the middle of nowhere.

The night was dark as most nights usually are.

Tej Mohra’s life had changed dramatically in the last two minutes.Of course he could not reminisce about it as he was running for his life. Two minutes ago, Tej was poring over his hidden stash of celebrity sleaze. Two minutes ago he was disheartened by his sex life of apparent lack of it.Not anymore. Now Tej was running. Faster than he had ever run.

As the curator of the Museum Of Gore was fleeing,he knocked over a serpica, a crude instrument employed by Rovin the Ruthless to bleed out his enemies usually done by wearing it upon his tongue and creating an intolerable noise. The instrument of cruelty fell to the floor with a loud clang.

As his assailant paused for a second, Tej snatched up an antique spear used to slay the notorious 3rd century bandit, Porcupine Pappu. Unable to see clearly in the dim moonlight filtering through the intermittent skylights adorning the ceiling, Tej Mohra waved the spear around hoping desperately in his heart to catch the intruder with the tip. But as it goes in most novels of a sensational nature, it was not to be so. As Tej stood there, sweat beads rolling down his forehead, he felt the spear being sharply yanked from his slippery grip and a heavy fist descend upon his temple. Tej collapsed to the floor. He was dead before he hit it.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Chief Inspector Machan, formerly of the Rescue Of Females In Distress Squad (ROFIDS), snatched the cup of warm coffee from his constable. Machan hated to be called in the middle of the night, especially when he was snuggled up with his wife of forty years. Gone were the days when Machan used to get up in the middle of the night and plunge into deadly waters or fiery infernos. Now nights were just about sleep. Both Machan and his wife were too tired for anything else.

There sprawled on the black and white floor (resembling an endless chessboard) was the curator Tej Mohra, not a string attached to his body except for a wide brimmed hat.The spear that killed Porcupine Pappu was thrust through his heart and stood upright.”Hmmm.. the Vitruvian Man”, said a voice from behind. Machan whirled around to see Gaymant, Assistant Secretary Of State, hand over his coat to the constable.

“I knew it”, said Machan curtly.

“But I said it first”, growled Gaymant.

“So what? It is still what I thought”

“But I said it first”

“Gentlemen, have a look at these”, said a third voice barely stopping a fist fight. It was Dolby D’souza, District Attorney of Gudham City, dressed in a neat suit, showing not the least fatigue. He held in his hands Tej Mohra’s cherished but covertly kept magazines. “I believe the curator was indulging in some private activities when he was rudely interrupted.”

“Still, it was an idea”, Gaymant defended his Vitruvian Man.

“You said it first”, quipped Machan.

“But you…”

“You said it first.”

“Gentlemen, please. Any idea what’s gone missing?”, interrupted Dolby once again avoiding a fist fight.

Machan snatched a list from the constable and scanned it,”Three diamonds, all of the largest variety.”

“He left this”, spoke the constable handing over a plastic packet to Machan. As he gazed upon the contents of the packet, Gaymant gasped, “Damn, it’s him, The Jigsaw.”