Kounder Strike - Sneak Peek

Sam's Story

Ola,

For all of you who aren’t comic book junkies, I proudly present Joseph/Jeph Loeb – comic book writer extraordinaire. With super hit cult comic book series such as Batman: Hush (with Jim Lee), Batman and Superman: The World’s Finest, Daredevil Yellow, and Batman: The Long Halloween (which is supposed to have inspired Batman Begins) in his kitty the man could not have asked for more. But unfortunate Mr.Loeb lost his son Sam to cancer June last year. At the age of 15 Sam wrote a story in issue 5 of the Tales of the Vampires comic series with Jeph's long-term associate Tim Sale. In 2006, Sam's final work appeared in Superman/Batman #26 which was nearly completed before his death. Jeph then went on to complete this issue with the help of a star-studded team comprising of members such as Jim Lee(Hush), Pat Lee, Rob Liefeld, Ed McGuinness(Superman and Batman), Tim Sale(Catwoman: When in Rome, Long Halloween, Daredevil: Yellow), Michael Turner(Superman and Batman) etc. The issue also featured a story entitled "Sam's Story," dedicated to Sam.

I found this 6 page dedication to Sam quite moving.

Here are the links to all the six pages of Sam's Story..

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp1_s.jpg

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp2_s.jpg

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp3_s.jpg

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp4_s.jpg

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp5_s.jpg

http://www.newsarama.com/dcnew/Sams_story/SAMLOEBp6_s.jpg

Recommended: For continuity's sake please save all the pages onto your computer and then read them on a slideshow.

Flicked..Good One Though

History will be kind to me for i intend to write it- Winston Churchill

Divine Intervention

Points to be noted before one reads this blog:

1) This is my first blog.

2) This is not my last blog

3) The events that unfold during the course of this blog are true

4) There are no discrepancies. So don’t look for any.

5) The author is definitely male.

It was a stormy Thursday night and it was raining Lions and St. Bernards in Bangalore. I was on my computer, half way through Transmetropolitan when I heard a puppy squeal. I kept to my work assuming that the puppy was crying for its mother’s warmth- it was sterilizingly* cold after all. Ten minutes hence my ass felt numb and I walked out to the balcony to get some blood flowing through my Gluteus Max. I peeped over the compound to get a glimpse of this scaled down Tsang-po in the rain water drain. Much to my horror I saw a puppy clinging on for dear life in this deluge of mud and rain water. If the puppy had lost its grip on the wall it would have been washed away into the local quagmire of garbage and human excreta. Sighting this rather grotesque eventuality I grabbed my wind cheater and ran out to save this hapless creature. I wasn’t too hard taking the first one out. I handed it over to my brother who wiped it dry and gave it some milk to drink. Just as I was taking my wet ass back home I heard another puppy scream. This one was stuck under the drain cover. I knelt on the ground and peeped under the cover. There were six more in there and most of them were out of reach. I extended my hand under the cover and took another out. The third was a little further into the drain. I stepped into the drain, put my head under the cover and took the third one out when the rain seemed to be falling everywhere but on my head. I looked up to see this uber-chick, I had never seen in my locality, holding an umbrella over my head. (Muhuhaha)

Looking very concerned, she asked me how many more were left. I said four more and she then offered to help me with the rest.( Muhuhaha) I was so busy trying to act concerned (on must realise that by then I had lost that humanitarian edge and was to back being an ordinary NITKian) that I did not even bother gauging her vital statistics. She got rid of her umbrella and pushed the puppies with a stick from the one end while I received them from the other. They were brought back to terra firma, wiped dry and fed well. You see the attention is now rapidly shifting from the puppies to the chick. She told me that the she was an occupant of the apartment across the street, wished me good night and left. The next morning as I stood on my balcony drinking piping hot filter coffee, I saw her again. We wished each other and that is where this fairy tale ends. Unfortunately I haven’t seen her since that morning.

Now, I console myself by saying “Well I did get wet and dirty with a chick. Not many are lucky enough to do that“

*sterilize v. (also -ise) (-zing or -sing) 1 make sterile. 2 deprive of reproductive powers.  Sterilization n.

BTW: All the puppies are hale and healthy.

Epilogue:

Pulp Fiction- circa 1994 AD

JULES

(to himself)

We should be fuckin' dead right now.

(pause)

Did you see that gun he fired at us?  It was bigger than him.

 VINCENT

.357.

 JULES

We should be fuckin' dead! 

VINCENT

Yeah, we were lucky. 

Jules rises, moving toward Vincent.

 JULES

That shit wasn't luck.  That shit was somethin' else.

 Vincent prepares to leave. 

VINCENT

Yeah, maybe.

 JULES

That was...divine intervention. You know what divine intervention is?

 VINCENT

Yeah, I think so.  That means God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets.

 JULES

Yeah, man, that's what is means. That's exactly what it means!  God came down from Heaven and
stopped the bullets.

 VINCENT

I think we should be going now.

 JULES

Don't do that!  Don't you fuckin' do that!  Don't blow this shit off! What just
happened was a  fuckin' miracle!

 VINCENT

Chill the fuck out, Jules, this shit happens.

 JULES

Wrong, wrong, this shit doesn't  just happen. 

VINCENT

Do you wanna continue this theological discussion in the car,or at the jailhouse with the cops?

 JULES

We should be fuckin' dead now, my friend!  We just witnessed a miracle, and I want you to fuckin'
acknowledge it!

My First Attempt at Writing a Story

Arrgh…She screamed…Thump…Thump...Thump...Strike three and her skull caved in. Particles of blood, brains and bone liberated -- lodged themselves on his creamy white suit. He loved his suit; loved his sister better. Drenched in blood, the wilted red rose in his pocket regained its life and jumped around in merriment. Its master had now achieved what he had set out to do twenty years ago. He dipped his hand in the crimson deluge that was now flowing on her carpet and smeared it all over his face. It felt warm. Breathing heavily he tightened his face as coagulating blood pulled at every muscle. Evil had consumed him and was now flowing in his veins as he stood smiling over the tramp’s mangled body. “Sentence served” he thought to himself.

December 11, 1985: He was twelve then and his sister three. They were at the riverside fair. Lights decorated the night sky -- brilliant blue tubes on that monster of a giant wheel, the golden glow of the popcorn stalls, pink fluorescent tubes lining the path to the tunnel of love. Lollypop in one hand and her brother’s arm in the other, she hopped in gaiety. This was her first time at the fair. She was adorable in spite of having a conspicuous birth mark on her forehead. The sky was clear and all the stars were on display.

”Look!! All the stars are out!! They are here to get a glimpse of you—you beauty”

They bought the tickets to the giant wheel and as they sat in their respective seats he noticed two goons staring at his sister. He held her closer. The wheel started to turn and by the time they got back on firm ground the goons had disappeared. He felt safer now.

“You will be mesmerized by our city’s skyline…The river side walkway offers you a brilliant view…100 meters ahead”

Strolling along the river side an eerie sense of insecurity came over him. The walkway was empty and dark. As he looked back to get a glimpse of the fair they had left behind, he heard loud noise. Before he knew it his sister lay beside him unconscious and bleeding from her leg. The helpless little boy knelt beside his sister and started to cry for help. Only two men responded. They came running to him and shot him in his chest and pumped another into his sister.

He came out of her motel room balcony and looked at the crystal clear sky and screamed ”Look!! All the stars are out!! They are here to get a glimpse of you—you beauty. This was for you- sister… This was for you – you beauty...”

He woke up in a hospital ward, a month later. He saw the nurse bring her rosary closer to her heart and thank the lord. He knew that his sister was too young to have survived through two bullet shots. He cried until he was exhausted and fell asleep again. He dreamt of dark waters, grey skies and galloping black horses. On one horse was his sister dressed in a flawless white skirt. She beckoned “Oh brother!! I miss you here. Won’t you join me?”. “I miss you too” he mumbled in his sleep.

Over the next few days he developed a strong resolve to avenge his sister’s murder. He knew that the best way to do it would be to join a local gang and extract information. He started off as a chauffeur and went up the ranks to be the gang’s best hit man. While he was decimating members of the enemy gang he tried to get information about those bastards who killed his sister. But all his efforts ended in vain.

Ten years passed by, when he received the photograph of his next target. He recognized it immediately. It was one of those murderers. He had failed to pay back a huge sum of money he had borrowed from a local Jewish shark. It was as if he was by possessed by Satan himself. Consumed by joy and rage he went on a rampage breaking everything in his house.

The blood had dried on his face. He dug into his pockets to look for a cigarette but didn’t find any. He limped into the house to look for one.

He followed his target closely, watching his every move. His activities were as dirty as his countenance. Apart from stealing, killing and raping, this horny bastard visited a whore once every week –“Such a low life does not deserve to live”. As for the whore –she was a young one who lived in a run down motel not far from where our protagonist ran his office.

He concluded that the best place to kill this bastard would be in the whore’s room in that empty motel. He picked his day - December 11^th, 2005. He shoved a knife into his coat pocket and a shotgun into his shirt. Dressed in his favorite white suit and a red rose in his pocket he made his way to the motel. He always liked to be dressed for the occasion.

He found a pack of triple 5s in her coat.

It was about 2 in the morning. “He must be done fucking her”. As he reached the room, he slowly pulled his shotgun out. The door was open. There he was, deep in his sleep, resting his right arm on her breasts. He banged the butt of his gun on the floor. The loud noise got them awake. She ran and hid behind a chair. Shocked and aware of the eventuality, the whacko began mumbling prayers –“Oh Christ!! Oh Christ!! Forgive me father…forgive me for all my sins”

“Do not forgive him father!! For he knows not what he is saying”

He kept the gun to his head and pumped all the rounds he had into his skull, splattering the walls with shredded viscera. As he turned towards the door he saw her pointing a revolver at him. “Why did you kill him? You asshole.“. She shot him on his shin. In a swift move he threw the shotgun at her head. It hit her hard. She fell down with a sickening thud. Taking support from a wooden chair he got up and picked his gun up. In his fit of rage he swung at her head with its butt. Arrgh…She screamed…Thump…Thump...Thump...Strike three and her skull caved in.

He stood there savouring every puff of smoke he inhaled. As he started the clean up job he noticed a healed bullet wound on her leg. Suddenly something struck him…Something struck him real hard. He lifted the hair off her face and there it was -- that same conspicuous birth mark. The helpless boy knelt beside his sister and began to cry. He took the knife out of his pocket and slit his wrists. As his tears washed the blood away, he closed his eyes and violently shoved the knife into his heart.