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Authors: Jeff Burk

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BOOK: Shatnerquake
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They sat silent while Shatner sang/spoke the last verse.
 
As he began the chorus for the final time the three
Bruces
got to their feet.
 
They raised their right, handless arm and bowed their heads in silent prayer to the Almighty Bruce.

           

As they walked out from behind the intergalactic crime lord cut-out, Shatner finished his song and the gathered crowd applauded.
 

           

Bruce slipped his hand into his pants pocket and slid on the set of brass knuckles.
 
He walked briskly up to Shatner, who was too busy taking bows to notice the oncoming threat.
 
Bruce and Bruce moved to his side to provide back-up and, if necessary, crowd control.
 

           

Bruce did one last glance around to make sure there were none of those freaky convention guards and then he moved in for the attack.

           

One quick blow with the brass knuckles knocked Shatner out cold before he had any chance to react.
 
The people in the crowd cried out as they saw their hero crumble to the ground.
 
A brave fan made a move to help but the one-two attack of Bruce and Bruce, each of whom had their own set of brass knuckles, quickly reduced him to a bleeding quivering heap.

           

“Anyone else feeling like a hero?” yelled Bruce as she fiercely eyed the crowd.
 
No one was.

 

Bruce smiled at Bruce.
 
She looked so hot when her blood-lust got pumping.

 

He rushed over to help Bruce with Shatner’s unconscious body.
 
The two began to drag the TV star down the hall while Bruce made sure no one followed them.
 
While she may have been under half the size of most of the convention attendees, she was crazier and fiercer than any of them.
 

           

The
Bruces
rounded a corner to a hallway and dragged the body through a maintenance door that led to the boiler room.
 
Bruce shortly followed them through the door.

           

“Did anyone follow?”

           

“Nah,” she said, “they were all too scared.”

           

She walked over to Shatner.
 
“Wow, we actually got him.”

           

The three
Bruces
stood around the unconscious entertainment icon.
 
They looked down in amazement.
 
They actually managed to get the Great Satan himself.

           

“OK,” said Bruce, “start unpacking the boxes.
 
Let’s not waste our opportunity here.

           

“I admire your determination but I do believe that you’ve made a mistake.”

           

The Campbellians jumped and spun around.
 
Standing in the doorway was another William Shatner.

           

“Who the hell are you?” said Bruce.

           

“I’m Denny Crane,” said the Shatner, “the greatest lawyer in the world.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

Shatner made it through two more rooms of the museum and then paused to catch his breath by a scale replica of his office from “Boston Legal.”
 
People stood in a half-circle around him yelling and clapping.

 

“What…is wrong…with…you people,” Shatner screamed at them.

           


aaaaaarrrrgggGGGGHHHHHH
!!!!”
 
The crowd parted aside and Hooker came charging.
 
Shatner grabbed an umbrella from the set and stepped aside, swinging it at Hooker’s legs.
 
He went face-first into the ground.
 
The crowd was joyous.
 

        
   

Hooker stood up and faced Shatner.
 
His forehead was cut wide open and thick-black ooze leaked from the wound.

           

“We can be at this all day,” said Hooker, “but, I am taking you down.”

           

Shatner turned and ran into the next room with Hooker hot on his tail.
 
Directly in front of Shatner was the ambulance that he was carried off in from “The Twilight
Zone.

 
He went to dodge around it but Hooker tackled his legs from behind.
 
Shatner fell forward and his head THUNCKED off the vehicle.

           

The world faded in and out from color to black.
 
Through the haze Shatner could see Hooker standing over him.
 
Hooker pulled out his police baton and raised it over his head.
 
Shatner’s senses shot back and he kicked out his leg, hitting Hooker squarely in the balls.
  
He grabbed his crotch and keeled over.
 

 

The crowd laughed and applauded.
 

           

Shatner got to his feet.
 
Next to the ambulance there was a small glass display containing the vehicle’s key.
 
Shatner covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and punched through the case.
 
He grabbed out the key and held it in his fist; it jutted out from between his index and middle fingers.
 

           

He turned and Hooker was already charging, baton held high.
 
Shatner stepped forward and slashed with the key.
 
Black goop splattered on the ambulance and Hooker held his face screaming.
 

           

Shatner ran past him to the ambulance, pulled open the driver’s side door, and got in.
 
He used the key and turned it on.
 
It roared to life, its engine growling and sounding more like a hotrod than an emergency vehicle from the nineteen fifties.
 

           

Shatner revved the engine and shifted the gears out of park.
 
Hooker then threw himself across the hood of the car.
 
Where his right eye was once, now there was a ruined socket of black sludge.
 
He yelled and coughed up black goop onto the windshield.
 
Shatner screamed and hit the gas.

           

The car shot forward.
  
Hooker held on, coughing and splattering more thick black stuff onto the glass.

           

Shatner could see well enough to guide the ambulance through the museum’s doorways.
 
The vehicle plowed through displays, destroying artifacts of Shatner’s public and personal life.
 
Shatner put on his seatbelt, held on tight, and watched his life flash by.

 

* * *

 

Kirk and the man in the Starfleet uniform jogged down the hallway.
 
The man’s name was Stephen, not that Kirk had asked, and he was very out of shape.
 
He wheezed and his lungs burned as he tried to keep pace with Kirk.
 
He very desperately wanted to get away but, after seeing what the phaser could do, he did not dare try to escape.

           

“Please,” Stephen said, grasping his chest, “I need a minute.”

           

“OK,” Kirk said as he scowled disapprovingly.
 

           

Stephen fell against the wall and gasped for breath.
 
Kirk paced about in the hall.
 
They were now far enough away from the scene of the murder that no one was concerned about their presence.
 
The convention attendees walked around Kirk and Stephen.

           

“Marvelous,” said Kirk in amazement as he surveyed the people.
 
A few feet from them was a woman dressed as an Orion slave
girl.
 
Her skin was completely painted green and revealing green fabric draped her body.
 
She was talking to a man dressed as a Vulcan.

           

“Marvelous,” Kirk said again, eyeing the woman.
 
Stephen would swear he saw Kirk’s eyes sparkle.
  

           

Kirk confidently strolled over to her.
 
He stepped in front of the man and leaned against the wall, bracing himself with his elbow.
 

           

“You’re…wasting…your time.”
 
Kirk motioned with his head to the man.
 
“He has…no heart…no feelings…not…like me.”

           

He moved in close to the woman.

           

“Hey buddy, back the fuck off,” said the man.
 
He stood a good foot taller than Kirk.

           

“What the hell’s your problem,” said the woman as she began to back away from Kirk.
 
Before she made it far, Kirk grabbed her.
 
He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other around her neck, and pulled her close.

           

“We shouldn’t….fight…there are more…enjoyable…activities for men and women,” said Kirk as he leaned his face in.
 

           

“Fuck off freak,” yelled the woman and she struggled to get out of his vice-like grip.

           

The man grabbed Kirk and pulled him off the woman with ease.
 
He spun Kirk around and punched him squarely in the jaw.
 
Kirk crumpled to the ground, dazed, as the man and the woman walked off holding hands.

           

Stephen rushed over.
 
He could not help but feel bad.
 
He had been there more than once.

           

He crouched down next to Kirk.

           


Vulcans
…normally…aren’t so emotional,” said Kirk as Stephen helped him to his feet.
 

           

“And…the woman,” Kirk massaged his jaw, “they…normally…like me more.”

           

“Come on,” said Stephen, “Let’s run down some halls.
 
It’ll make you feel better.”

 

* * *

 

Natalie walked into the main lobby and froze when she saw the massive arched glass entrance and what was on the other side of it.
 
She stood still and after a moment lit a cigarette, totally disregarding the convention’s no smoking in public places policy.
 
She walked forward and placed her hand on the glass, staring out in disbelief and terror.
 

           

The sound of a roaring engine shook her out of her trance.
 
She turned around and looked back at the lobby.
 
It was a massive room, empty of but a few convention registration tables and a few display cases.
 
She noticed that there was no one working the tables—there was no one else in the room.
 

           

The engine became louder.
 
It was coming from ahead of her.
 
On the opposite side of the room was a set of stairs and an escalator that led up to the second floor and the convention’s museum.
 

           

She then heard screaming and people suddenly came spilling into view, running and tumbling down the stairs and escalator.
 
Then the vehicle
came
speeding into sight.
 
When it hit the stairs, and people trying to get down them, it was ramped into the air.

           

Natalie watched in amazement as the vehicle flew through the room.
 
It soared up and down in a graceful arch.
 
Is that an ambulance
and
why is a man hanging off the hood
were her last two thoughts as it smashed her into the front doors.

BOOK: Shatnerquake
9.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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