Hero Worship {Tarantula/Wipeout}

[El Tirador]

Panchito was out beating the pavements of the twin cities yet again, as he'd been doing every day since his arrival in Duckburg. But no matter what he tried, the rooster couldn't find anything even resembling a job.

Sometimes he passed the time by singing in the street for coins, sometimes by ogling the girls who walked by. But today, he had stopped at a corner newspaper stand. Not to buy, mind you, as he was pretty nearly broke. But the girl behind the counter was a cute chick--literally.

Tammy was an anthro bird, with wide green eyes and long lashes, and Panchito liked the way they fluttered whenever she looked up.

Accordingly, he sauntered up to lean one elbow on the counter and make the...how you say, the small talk.

And things weren't going too badly. She seemed interested, enough to encourage Panchito to ask her to dinner.

[Tarantula]

"SHOPLIFTER!" screamed an elderly woman. It came from a nearby liquor store, and it was obvious who committed the act. Tarantula, with a Red Buck cigar in his mouth, carried one large case of beer with one of his biological arms, and two other cases with two of his robotic appendages. The liquor store's clerk chased him and struck him on the back, but she did no damage. "POLICE! THIEF!'

Tarantula's eyes were bored and almost sleepy, with his purple eyelids half closed. He shoved the store's proprietor, removed his cigar from his fat bottom lip, and flicked it at the old lady. "Cool your jets, ya old bag. It's not like I took the money. Hey. Now that I think abou'dit, why didn't I take the money?"

A small crowd gathered around. "Oh, no!" said one nondescript, stereotypically panicky voice. "It's Tarantula!"

[El Tirador]

before tammy could answer, the relative peace of the street was split by screams.

Out of a nearby store crawled the most amazing creature. Never before had the rooster seen a man with spider's legs. And metal ones, at that.

"Holy frijoles!" exclaimed Panchito. "He has legs like una tarántula!" The sight so took him by surprise, that the vacquero simply watched for a while, without realizing that the man was actually robbing the store.

It finally dawned on him what was happening. "Oho! A bandito, eh?" This seemed like an easy way to look good in Tammy's eyes. And it's not like he'd never captured robbers before.

Accordingly, Panchito reached into his sombrero and pulled out his trusty lariat, twirling it in ever-widening circles around his head.

[Tarantula]

Tarantula stepped to walk back into the store for the money, but the proprietor was having none of that. She tried to block him from entering the door, but the fat and tall feline far exceeded the old bag's strength. "Aww, what a tough, old buzzard you are! Can ya get outta the way now? Before I make ya?!" He bared his large, white teeth and narrowed his eyes at the stubborn hag.

Today, Pete--better known to the public as the menacing Tarantula--was in simple clothes. He was in his usual brown shoes and white gloves (as always), but he was evidently in a rush to get dressed that morning... or he simply threw on whatever he found and didn't care. He wore denim overalls with only one strap attached (the other button was torn off, nowhere to be found), and over them he had on a large brown trench coat. Obviously, the coat had holes on the back so that the four large, silver appendages (each of which had a single joint on the middle, so sometimes they were bent like actual spider legs) could be free. As always, each appendage had intimidating claws at the end, for grabbing... and fighting.

"Hey!" a nearby citizen who stood at a safe distance to watch the event shouted. He pointed to Panchito. "He's got a lasso!"

"Actually," a woman beside him mused, "it looks more like a lariat. Is he a superhero? Is he with the Dream Leage?!"

Tarantula, hearing the commotion, shifted his weight and gazed at the rooster with the rope. "Well, what d'we got here? A cowboy!" He grinned, and his voice oozed with mockery. "Howdy, pardner! Mind if I get mah own rope?"

Without looking behind him, one of his sinister appendages shot backward and snatched the old woman with a forceful and painful grab. At least, it was probably painful, considering that the woman shrieked in fright. The villain then raised the woman as high in the air as possible, as his grin increased. "I'd like to see ya try and get her, rooster. Think ya got what it takes?" He folded his real arms on his large chest, as the woman above him kicked the air and screamed. "Lemme go!" she demanded.

[El Tirador]

It sounded like Panchito was getting a lot of attention from people on the street, though he kept his eyes focused on his new enemy, hoping all the same that Tammy was watching with appreciation.

Even the villain noticed him, stopping his rampage for a few seconds, at least.

Panchito stood resolute in the street, fixing the villain with a steely gaze. "I am calleen' you out, Senor Tarántula," he shouted, his lariat looping in ever-widening circles.

Suddenly, the mocking bandido snatched up a little old lady in one of his metal arms. "This is a very low trick, hideen' behind a woman." The rooster didn't think much of this hombre, putting him down as a yellow coward.

Panchito let the rope fly, and it settled easily over the claw that dangled the woman in the air. But what would he do next? The vacquero wasn't much for planning things out, preferring to shoot first and ask questions later.

Maybe he could tie the leg to a convenient lamppost and prevent the villain from escaping. He heaved on his end of the rope, but the mechanical legs were stronger than Panchito had anticipated.

Or at least, than he would've anticipated had he bothered to think beyond the moment.

[Wipeout]

David Kawena liked life simple. He didn't need much to satisfy him: a good wave, a good board beneath his feet, and maybe a friend to share the ride.

But since Jumbaa's machine had accidentally given David this weird power, things had become uncomfortably complicated.

Lilo, on whom David doted, had insisted he become a super-hero, settling on the name 'Wipeout,' and convincing the former evil genius to create weapons to go with the new identity.

But David had no ambitions in that direction. It just seemed like a lot of unnecessary responsibility to him.

So, when he found himself on board the flying surfboard with a couple of fire-sticks strapped to his back, ordered to take a test-flight, the surfer took off over the ocean and just kept on going.

As the miles melted away below him, David soared on, lost in thought, until he realized, too late, that he was out of sight of any land, and had been for hours.

"Ha laaa! Now what do I do?" he said to himself, there being nobody around for miles. That flying board was faster than he'd anticipated, and since David wasn't wearing a watch, he didn't even know if it was before or after noon, and hence, whether he shoudl fly east or west to return home.

Finally, the surf bum chose a direction at random, flying higher and faster in hopes of spotting some kind of land before it grew too dark to see.

When he finally saw something off near the horizon, it was some huge land mass, definitely not the island of his birth. But where was he? The land looked so different without the lines and legends printed on the maps.

With a shrug, David soared over to it. Wherever it was, there would be people who could point him in the right direction.

[El Tirador]

Tugging with all his might, Panchito managed to bring the rope nearer to the street light he'd chosen, but every inch gained was an incredible strain. And he was beginning to wonder if he was actually looking foolish in Tammy's eyes. That would not be good.

A rush of air and a strange, alien cry (something like 'ha la') made the rooster look up. Now there was something you didn't see every day: a flying surfboard.

[Tarantula]

The Mexican rooster's lariat successfully connected with the appendage Tarantula used to hold up his victim. So, the self-appointed hero messed with the bull; now he'd get the horns!

"Nice moves, chicken. But yer a featherweight hittin' above the belt. " Before he acted, he assessed his situation. Tarantula wasn't brilliant, but he wasn't dumb; he figured the rooster would try to tie him down to prevent him from escaping. Well, no biggie. Tarantula just looked about his surroundings, to find something to use to his advantage. There was another street light right there; maybe he could rip it out and use it as a bat. And there's a building... maybe if he grabbed the rooster and hurled him through a window on a high floor, it'd buy him some time... There's a flying surfboard, but that wouldn't really be useful, unless air-surfing was a new thing. He didn't hold his breath that it'd catch on. Sure, Back to the Future Part II said that flying skateboards would exist in a couple of years, but--

WAIT, WHAT? A FLYING SURFBOARD?!

Tarantula's pupils constricted somewhat, and his mouth gaped. "Huh... How 'bout that?" He looked to the rooster and grinned deviously. "Hey, rooster! Let's play tug-o-war!" With one gigantic pull, he tugged his metal appendage far away, trying to snap back the rooster before he could reach the street light he was obviously heading for.

Ten feet above, the old woman stared at the surfboard in disbelief. "This city's gone to the pits. Why can't anything be normal anymore?!"

[El Tirador]

Panchito didn't quite understand all of the tarántula's comments (his Inglés was very peculiar), but he did know that he was being insulted. Before he could think up a suitably snappy answer, the fat man continued with,

"Hey, rooster! Let's play tug-o-war!"

Uh-oh. Panchito did know what that meant. But he had no time to even let go of his end of the rope before the metal arm swung him off his feet. A flick of the claw and a snap of the rope and letting go was no longer a problem.

The vacquero flew high through the air like a bullet, and the target was the concrete facade of a nearby building.

[Wipeout]

A lesser man would've been taken aback by what he saw as he neared the city. A man with giant metal legs flinging a Mexican rooster into the air...but David had aliens in his life for the past year or so. This was nothing.

But that didn't mean he intended to let the rooster splatter into a million pieces. Swooping easily under the other's arc, he caught him with a cheery, "Take it easy, Bruddah, this is no place for a wipe-out."

It was amazing how well this air-board handled, just like gliding across the waves. David angled down closer to the street, calling out to the old woman he'd just noticed, "Are you okay, Auntie? You need help?"