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Trick or Treat

Written by ace191 :: [Wednesday, 19 October 2005 16:50] Last updated by :: [Thursday, 15 May 2014 11:58]


DISCLAIMER: No actual federal agents were harmed in the making of this Story. However, several state and local guys did not fair so well.


“Do you mind if we make a couple of stops before going to the party tonight?”

He ponders this carefully. He is riding with a gorgeous brunette dressed in purple opera gloves and high heeled boots. A skin tight hot pink leotard hugs her perfect posterior, tapering down to her tiny waist. It expands upward to accommodate huge perfect breasts. Her angelic face is hidden by a purple domino mask while a Sapphire adorned Tiara accents her long beautiful hair. Why would any male on the planet protest anything that she wanted to say or do tonight? “No, not at all Carol.” he replies.

She pulls into an old Nike base and walks up to the huge metal door. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this Carol.” He says.

“Well I’m not scared because tonight I am with the Lone Ranger. Those guns are real, aren’t they?”

“No” he answers.

She rings the bell and says “Trick or Treat” The speaker crackles back something about trespassing and getting the hell out of there now which sounds like a good idea to him.

She touches the door and it implodes inward. “Door’s open let’s go in.”

He thinks to himself “Why I follow her I don’t know. Who am I kidding; I know exactly why I am following her! I am thinking with something other than my brain!” They walk down a short hall into a large room with a concrete floor.

“I told you to leave and now you two are in big trouble” the larger of the two men exclaims.

Carol spreads her legs out with fists on her hips. She tightens her washboard abs with her costume hugging every ripple. Thrusting her chest out she says “We came for Carlos Mendoza and no crooked cops are going to prevent us from leaving here with him tonight!”

“And just who the hell do you think you are, some Power Space Ranger?”

“I am Star Sapphire, Queen of the Zamorians you puny male.”

Two purple rays shoot out of Carol’s hands knocking the two men back into the wall. A purple ray hits the Ranger in the hips greatly increasing the weight of his gun belt.

“We can do this the hard way or the easy way, your choice” Carol says.

Several men with an assortment of weapons run into the room. The first two begin shooting at Carol.

“Hard way it is. Better draw your shooting irons, Partner.”

Two purple energy harpoons shoot out of her hands impaling the shooters on the wall. Bullets are flying everywhere as one grazes the Ranger’s ear and another takes off his hat. He drops down behind a couch and watches as Carol floats into the air with bullets bouncing off her purple aurora. More bullets come his way as a man appears with a direct line of fire. He fires twice just missing the Ranger. Instinctively, The Ranger draws his pistols and hits his assailant in the chest. Two shots later, he is dead on the floor as the Ranger ducks back behind the couch.

Carol flies to the center of the room and assumes her power stance. “Had enough boys?” Two officers in SWAT gear emerge firing automatic rifles at her. “Apparently not.” Two more purple beams leave her hands as two melted guns ooze onto the floor as the air becomes filled with the smell of burning flesh and the sounds of men screaming.

Realizing that shooting at Star Sapphire is pointless, an enraged officer turns his shotgun towards the Ranger to avenge his fallen friends. One, two, three, scream, four, five “damn my leg hurts” yells the Ranger! Out of anger driven by pain he jumps up and puts 6 rounds into the chair the officer is using for cover. The Ranger watches with glee as the officer slumps to the floor with his shotgun lying next to him.

A man with a rocket launcher fires it towards Star Sapphire. The projectile explodes between her breasts leaving Carol with a smile on her face.

She glances over at the Ranger and sees his bleeding left leg. The expression on her face changes drastically as she flies up near the ceiling. Two purple beams emerge from her hands with rotating blades at the ends. She begins carving up assailants and body parts go flying everywhere.

The room grows quiet now. No shots echo and only a few moans can be heard. Carol flies down to the floor and picks up a man missing a hand by his severed extremity. “Where’s Mendoza?” she demands. In that room, he gestures.

A giant purple fist shoots out of Carol’s hand and bursts through the massive concrete wall. It returns with a man in its’ grasp.

“A day’s testimony does not erase thirty brutal killings.”

Mendoza starts to scream, but the massive purple fist tightens around him and he can not draw a breath. The silence is quickly replaced by the sound of snapping bones. With blood and tissue fragments oozing out of the giant hand, it suddenly disappears and a lump of flesh splashes to the ground.

The Ranger surveys the carnage and breaks out in a cold sweat. He feels his heart pounding as if it were beating outside his chest. He finds himself in desperate need of a bathroom. Somehow, he picks up his ventilated hat and painfully limps to the door. Carol floats down to him and asks “So Ace, would you like to ring the next door bell, or should I?”

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