final hunt for the pygmy gorilla, pt. VI

***
CHAPTER VI

The R.A.H. Squadron made their move, storming the building with manic shouts of "Yo Joe!" But we seven -- myself, Joe, The Commando, Air Adventurer, Sea Adventurer, Man of Action, and Mike Power a.k.a. The Amazing Atomic Man -- were ready for them, having reaffirmed our belief in that fair notion of "all for one, and one for all!"

We gathered in the center of the briefing room in a star-shaped defensive formation so as to best strike at our enemies with our combined arsenal of kung fu, Haikung Fu, big frikkin' guns, and the like.

In the flash of an eye, the R.A.H.ers were on us, swarming like roaches. There were dozens of them, wearing gaudy uniforms emblazoned with goofy sounding names such as "Beachhead," "Nunchuk," "Wild Bill," "Shipwreck," "Big Ben," "Sergeant Slaughter," etcetera.

I will not lie to you -- the battle that ensued was glorious, a veritable cacophony of blood, guts, and brains that sent many a warrior soul to Valhalla. Better still, the Adventure Team suffered no casualties... as the R.A.H.ers proved to be the worst shots since Hinckley! Seemingly incapable of controlling their weapons, their bullets flew harmlessly over our heads, making it that much easier to mow them down like the dogs they were.

With his platoon all but gone, the R.A.H. leader soon found himself face-to-face with Joe, who was threatening him with a bloodstained knife!

"I'm warning you, stand back!" the leader said nervously. "Stand back or I'll shoot!"

"Go ahead, Duke, do your worst," said Joe.

The R.A.H. leader fired -- and as expected, the bullet sailed right over Joe's head! Joe struck, gutting Duke like a fish!

"That," Joe grunted, forcefully pulling his knife from Duke's gizzard, "is for telling people I don't exist, you 3 3/4" plastic turd!"

Duke slid to the floor, and the fight was finished -- another day saved by the one and only Adventure Team.

R.A.H.ers Like This Joker Made A Huge Tactical Error In Tussling With The Adventure Team

"God-damn, that felt good!" huffed The Commando, who had stripped off his shirt and was drenched in R.A.H. blood. "Those little wimps had that coming for a lo-o-o-o-o-ng time!"

"Tell me about it!" said Mike Power. "It was a real treat to flex my amazing atomic arm... around some Real American necks!"

"Yeah," agreed Air Adventurer. "We'll probably have to go on the lam as fugitives from justice, A-Team style, but damn if it wasn't worth it!"

"A-Team style...," Joe teased, "...or Adventure Team style, eh? Eh?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" asked Man of Action.

"I don't know," said Joe. "But if you think I'm saying we should get a heavily armed motor home and criscross the world in search of... adventure... then, yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying. Now who's with me, Adventure Team? All for one and..."

"...ONE FOR ALL!!!" everyone else shouted, throwing their hands on top of Joe's. Everyone, that is, except yours truly.

"Uh, sorry guys," I said. "It was great seeing you all again, but I really should be going. Got a, uh, dentist appointment next Tuesday that I can't miss."

"Well no offense, but who asked you?" said Joe. "For that matter, who are you?"

"Who am I?" I asked, surprised. "I'm The Haiku Master! Remember? You asked me to come help you fight the pygmy gorilla!?"

"Haiku Master?" muttered Man of Action. "I don't remember a Haiku Master... I remember The Astronaut. Did he write haikus?"

"Did he write haiku," I corrected.

"Oh, now I recognize you," said Joe. "You're Chuck Bukowski's sidekick, Wart. Right? I didn't know Chuck was here -- where is that old son of a gun?"

"No! Chu... Sensei Bukowski died years ago, and the whole Cobra Kai Haiku Order was annihilated shortly thereafter. I'm the one and only Haiku Master these days."

The Late Haiku Master Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) Briefly Served With The Adventure Team In The 1970s, But Never Rated An Action Figure

"Oh, sorry about that. I'm an old man, and get easily confused," Joe offered.

"That's alright..."

At that precise moment, who should walk in but Emmanuel Lewis himself. True to Joe's word, he was wearing a pygmy gorilla suit, but held the heavy head mask in his tiny little hands.

"Sweet Mother of Moses!" he squeaked. "I've been sitting in that jungle for six hours now, Joe, and I won't take no more! Now pay up -- I'm out of here!"

And oh, how we laughed.

***
EPILOGUE

With that, the Adventure Team was off -- presumably to purchase a heavily armed motor home. As for myself, I returned to my top secret base of operations in the Baltimore suburbs to fight crime, write haiku, and reflect on my latest adventure. Or maybe re-read the first new issue of Grimjack for the seventh time and take a nap. One or the other.

When I finally got back, though, my phone was ringing off the hook; seemed the neighbor's dog had gotten itself stuck in a tree again. Ah, well! Rest is always at arm's reach when you're me... The Haiku Master!