Image Source: Doodle of Boredom
Bruise grunted, took off his earphones and got up from his easy chair. Who could be at the door? He was supposed to be in the middle of nowhere where no one could find him. Did he even own a doorbell? Bruise snatched open the door.
It was a juvenile Yellow Fish with square rimmed glasses. “Hel...”
“What do you want?”
“Mr. Wane, we need your help.”
“Kid.” Bruise pointed a fin at the placard next to the door. It said “NO HELP WANTED OR GIVEN.”
“But... but it's serious, the hammerheads, they're tearing up the city.”
Bruise shrugged. “Not my problem anymore. Good day to you, sir.”
“Wait, the leader, Johnny, he says you're a deadbeat loser.”
Bruise growled. His row upon rows of teeth grinding together. “I thought I killed him.”
“He survived and he's back, stronger than ever.”
“Still, I have no ride.”
The kid put his fin in his mouth and whistled. A black seahorse came swimming over.
“Manticore? I set him loose.” Bruise went over and patted his old friend.
“He's been hanging over by your old lair for years.”
“What do you say Manty? Ready for one last adventure?”
Manty raised his head and neighed. “Okay, kid show the way.”
“Stop laughing,” said Bruise spitting out a tooth.
“You've grown weak, Wane.”
The hammerheads were all around him. Bruise was questioning his decision to come out of retirement. Would that violent end he was trying to avoid finally happen to him?
Johnny swaggered over, his scarred and pierced head bobbing side to side. Manticore snorted.
“Shut up you old nag.” Johnny slapped the aging horse.
Something snapped inside of Bruise. How dare the brute? Bruise gave his old friend a pat on the neck. “Stay here friend, I will sort them out.”
Bruise shot forward and whipped Johnny with his tale. Drawing blood. Bruise breathed it in. It reminded him of the bad old days. Not relenting for a second Bruise tore into the hammerhead gang until they was none left to challenge him. There were chunks torn out of him, a few more injuries to live with, but the punks had hopefully been taught a lesson.
Black and white Zebra Fish converged on the scene and apprehended the culprits. The old police commissioner tipped his hat. Bruise winked back.
“Come on old boy,” said Bruise. “It about time we went home.”