The Bruiser
Buck Bruiser lit a fresh cigar and tossed the match an impressive distance away as he stared up at the 37-story Rothstein building in front of him. Bruiser puffed his cigar and put his pack of matches back in his coat before rubbing his stubbly chin and saying, “There’s always someone asking for a bruisin’.”
On the top floor of the Rothstein building, staring down at Bruiser, was the well-dressed Klaus der Böse. A henchman with a ponytail walked up to Klaus and said, “We’re at 50% download from the servers. 20-minute estimated time to completion.” Ponytail continued to stare at Klaus and asked, “Is there a problem, sir?”
Klaus continued staring out the window, watching his old nemesis approach the building. “Have you ever heard of Sergeant Buck Bruiser?” said Klaus in his thick German accent.
“Buck Bruiser?” said ponytail in shock. “Didn’t he kill 10 of your men when you were pulling the LA art museum job? I heard he was armed with no more than a stapler.”
“It was a staple remover,” replied Klaus. He turned to ponytail and continued, “Tell the men to be on high alert.” Klaus walked towards the group of hostages huddled together on the floor in the center of the luxury office space, while ponytail spat some words into his radio and went on the move. Reaching the crowd of hostages, Klaus said, “Worry not, ladies and gents, as we shall be done shortly and you all will be free to steal the money of the proletariat as we have stolen from you.”
“We’ve stolen nothing! I’ve earned my money!” said one of the hostages, a portly bald man with a thick white mustache. “When I started out I had noth–”
“Will someone please shoot this man!” said Klaus, pointing at the portly man.
“What?” said the portly man, and he was shot twice in the chest. A beautiful young red-haired secretary sitting next to him did her best to do CPR, but to no avail.
Bruiser entered the lobby of the Rothstein building, undetected by the two henchmen on guard. “It’s bruisin’ time,” were the last words they heard before Bruiser killed them with a nail file that was on the entrance desk. He then began his ascent.
“What? How could he already be on the twentieth floor? That’s impossible,” said ponytail into his radio. He spun around and saw Klaus standing there.
“That is Sergeant Buck Bruiser, mein genosse, and this is you underestimating your foe,“ said Klaus. “How much longer do we need?”
“We’re at 75% download from the servers. 10-minute estimated time to completion,” replied ponytail.
“Equip the hostages with the failsafe,” said Klaus.
There was a crackle over the radio and a henchman could be heard saying, “He’s making his way to the 36th floor!”
On the 36th floor of the Rothstein building, the elevator doors opened, letting out five henchmen with fully automatic weapons. They began to spray their bullets without aiming at anything and hit nothing but helpless office furniture. One henchman stopped shooting and raised his hand causing the others to stop as well.
The henchmen looked around for Bruiser, but he found them first. “It’s bruisin’ time,” were the last words heard by the henchmen on the 36th floor.
“How’s the situation on 36?” said ponytail into his radio. “Someone answer me!”
“Your men are already dead, mein genosse,” said Klaus. “Are we ready?”
“Yeah, the download from the servers is complete, now all we need to do is –” started ponytail, but the room went silent when the sound of the elevator arriving on the 37th floor dinged. “Look alive boys!” said ponytail to his five remaining henchmen as they all pointed their guns at the elevator.
The elevator doors opened and the body of one of the henchmen from the 36th floor fell. Everyone stared at it until they heard, “It’s bruisin’ time.” Bruiser dropped into the elevator from the top, and with an automatic weapon in each hand, he made Swiss cheese out of ponytail and the five nameless henchmen.
Bruiser threw down his guns and walked towards Klaus who was on the other side of the room near the window. Klaus held up a device and said, “A pleasure to cross paths with you once again Sergeant Bruiser, but this time you’ve been outmatched. In my hand is a detonator and with a flip of the switch, the explosives strapped to these hostages will go boom. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
Bruiser stopped in his tracks and pulled a cigar and a match from his coat. He struck the match with his thumb and lit the cigar, puffing up clouds of smoke. Bruiser took another long drag from his cigar, took it out of his mouth, and blew the ash off of the end revealing the red hot burning portion. “There’s always someone asking for a bruisin’,” said Bruiser.
“Oh, Sergeant Bruiser,” said Klaus, shaking his hand holding the device. “I think it’s time for you to give up. There’s no shame in it.”
“No,” said Bruiser, lifting his head to look at Klaus. “It’s bruisin’ time!” Bruiser threw his cigar like a dart right into Klaus’s left eye. Klaus, yelling in pain, dropped the device and before he knew it Bruiser was in front of him. Bruiser gave Klaus a left hook, then a right, and then a knee to the face knocking him out.
“Oh, thank God! You saved us,” said the beautiful young red-haired secretary as she threw herself into Bruiser’s arms. He dipped her and kissed her, and six months later they would be married, and a year later they would be divorced, as Buck Bruiser was incapable of loving anything more than dishing out the bruisings.