[JimmyDimples]

Fonk's on the money.  I'm thinking of my entertainment choices lately:  namely, "Homestar Runner," "Megatokyo," and the "YouTube" video of the day.  If I had the time, cash, and savvy, I'd set up production on the web for my show. 

And frankly I thought I was going to be culturally deprived by leaving behind America's 500 channels, and then I realized… there's nothing on.

I almost wrote something about Hollywood joining Vaudeville on history's trash heap… until I realized Vaudeville would be a step up.  :-

[JimmyDimples]

Hey, it looks like a book to me… a long-haired textbook.

Woulda been cooler if we could've made out the title, though… 🙂

[JimmyDimples]

Late to the party… again… but I gotta admit, that's one sweet sketch.

Now that oughta be on a "READ" poster for the American Library Association.  🙂

[JimmyDimples]

;D

Well, congratulations! Salute, and it couldn't happen to a nicer guy!  Looks like you WILL be marching around in gold pants in no time!

[JimmyDimples]

"Not on MY watch, you're not!" rang a powerful woman's voice.

The pirate captain glanced over to the doorway, blade and barrel still braced against the Russian.  Then he looked her up from the silver winged shoes on her floating feet, up to the large calves, stout, solid, yet stunning and smooth thighs, up to the wide belt with Athena's ancient visage on the round buckle, the stomach with the upside-down temple-step abs in white, the folded arms with cannonball biceps encasing a similar-sized bust… and up the craggy, chiseled cleft and neck up to that beautiful yet stern, unapproving face crowned with a long flowing mane of blondish-red hair.

The freebooter's left eyebrow arched up one tick.  "Dyna, right?" he casually said, as if he'd just met the local TV weatherman or the latest webcam star.

Both of the Damsel Dynamo's eyebrows went up on the recognition, but only for a blink.  "Yes, Dyna," she said unappreciatively.  "Now let the captain go. This second."

"Please help me!" cried Amanourov.  "He crazy! He shooting atmmlph!" 

Keeping his pistol's muzzle pressed over his captive's mouth, the pirate pointed his cutlass toward the cabin's ceiling. 

"Sorry, Pumpkinlocks," he said with a half smile, "love to chat, but…" He jabbed up.  Screeench, scraaanch, scruuuuunch! He carved three straight, neat slashes to a big square into the metal, with the missing fourth side between himself and Dyna by the doorway.  The steel flap dipped a little from its own weight. 

"Business meetin' in progress," he continued.  And he stuck the black sword into the middle gash, pressed for leverage, and opened it so the steel square swung down quickly, blocked the way, and lightly bopped her on the nose.

Dyna shook her head.  Some guys simply wouldn't learn.  Landing on her feet, she grabbed the metal in her fists like a shower curtain, jerked, wrenched and threw it aside with a loud clang and clatter.  "I said get off him!"  she shouted.

Not even looking her way, the pirate captain exhaled sharply through his teeth, and quickly shoved a big, heavy oak desk to pin Amanourov against the bulkhead.  He finally turned to face Dyna, cutlass and pistol at the ready. 

"Lass," he grumbled, "yer about to make a huge, tragic mistake."

"YOU already made it, you third rate Johnny Depp wannabe!"  And she hopped into flight and zoomed at him with python arms ready to grab him.  With a weasel's speed, he ducked, somersaulted, smacked her in the legs in passing with his blade's flat, and dashed out the door. 

She quickly kicked the desk away.  "Run and radio the Coast Guard!" she ordered.

Amanourov nodded.  "Not needing to tell me twice!" And he bolted the way the buccaneer didn't, while Dyna veered down the corridor after her foe.

Hitting the cold night sea air, Dyna spotted the running pirate rounding the bridge on the catwalk.  Zeroing in on him, she beelined over the deck to try to intercept him.  Paf! Paf paf paf! The swabbies down below took musket pot shots at her… and three were actually on the mark.  The ball shots hit her hip, thigh, and abdomen, thumping against her like they'd thrown grapes. 

Just as she rocketed close enough to spot the captain's hair covering his neck, he dropped down and dodged her at the last instant, slid under the guard rail, and caught himself by wrapping his arm around a post.  "Save yer ammo, ya dolts!" he yelled. "Keep searching, I'LL handle her!"

Dyna then heard a short yelp down below.  She then saw a Karnov mate clutching his bleeding hand, dropping a long steel pipe at the feet of two raiders with short swords.  Just as both of them raised and their blades at the outnumbered man's throat, Thoombap! Dyna torpedoed right at them with a bone-breaking slam, and knocked them right over the railing.  Screaming, they splatted into the drink. 

"AVAST, WENCH!" snarled the pirate captain.  "Lay offa my crew!"  As Dyna turned around and saw him still dangling onto the railing, his free arm leveled his blunderbuss.  Dyna smirked a little at that.  If she barely felt the longarms….

FAMM!  Loud as lightning, the pistol spat out a huge fireball shot that illuminated the whole deck for a second.  And it nailed her squarely in the breadbasket… and felt like she'd been sucker punched by Chuck Norris.  As Deena.

"Ffurgh!"  Dyna doubled over and sailed backward about sixty feet, just over the pirate ship, barely missing the mizzenmast.  "That… actually hurt!" Getting her breath back, she quickly realized that these pirates weren't a bunch of costume party bozos with old weapons and a fancy boat. 

"All right, Captain Crook," she growled, "now the gloves are OFF."

Straightening out and shrugging off the pain, she found where the captain dropped and landed on the deck below, dropping to his knees.  And before he could stand up, let alone point edge or muzzle at her again, she tackled him, clutched his wrists, and clamped down hard.  As he cried out sharply in pain and dropped his weapons, she then swooped up forty, fifty, sixty, and finally coasted to a stop at 100 feet.  Stretching out his right arm to the side, and pinning his left behind his back, she pulled him close to herself.  Inches apart, her baby blue eyes glared right into his defiant green ones. 

"Game's over, you lost," she hissed.  "You have ten seconds to call off Smee and Company and order them to stand down.  Or I'll pitch you back down to the surface, and you WON'T splash into the water."

The pirate trembled a bit.  But somehow Dyna knew it wasn't in fear… it was in anger.

"Now you've done it," he groaned.  "You've forced my hand."

Within her left fist, she felt his wrist grind achingly to turn.  Then his fingers formed a claw, and pointed right at her face.

"Energy to me," he whispered.   

His right hand started to glow softly.  A modest white glow, like from a low-power fluorescent bulb.  And then she saw soft glowing waves waft through the air, into the hand.  It was a bit like a monochrome Aurora Borealis.  Wondering where they came from, and suspecting that this was some sort of energy blast powering up, she turned his fingers away from her and down toward the Pacific Ocean. 

No, wait… the Sea of Japan.  Or was it the Korean Strait?  She couldn't remember; she was feeling a bit lightheaded.  Then a few butterflies fluttered in the stomach.  She felt dizzy.  Her eyesight blurred a hair.  And then… she started feeling weaker.

And to her horror, she followed where the energy waves came from, and figured out the source:  her own body!

Her head rolled.  Nausea set in.  She couldn't concentrate.  And as the pirate's hand kept vacuuming up her life force, she tilted to the side, lost her grip, and started to plummet back down to the Karnov.

To Be Continued…

[JimmyDimples]

Yup, works REALLY nice. 

Magnificent.  Thanks for sharing.

[JimmyDimples]

Well, with this one, Jimmy Dimples… I needed an alternate ID myself from the other stuff in my web life since this one treads into NSFW territory all too often.  Back when I first got a web ID, I loved to do Play By e-Mail Role Playing Games.  Essentially, we would get the premise for a campaign/story, and create characters for them, and e-mail back and forth with what our characters did.  Very much like Big Eyes, Small Mouth with no dice rolls. 

Originally, I was in a Sailor Moon PBeM RPG.  But the game-master there wanted to try something else… a superhero RPG.  And we were going to design original heroes and villains, and do our campaign there.  My own hero for that one was a character called Jimmy Dimples, the One Man Walking Freakshow.  He was an abandoned genetic engineering mistake that got adopted by a circus fat lady when she found him as an infant in a drainage ditch.  And he grew up in the circus, learning the skills, and showing his powers (stretching, multiple limbs, and a giant mouth across his belly that spat fire). 

Unfortunately, the RPG didn't take off, and I never got to play with him.  Jimmy just sat in a file languishing, and even the Sailor Moon campaign folded, too.

Then I discovered the massive female genres.  And needing a new nom de net, I figured this one would be as good as any other.

You can check out his intro story and "character sheet" here.

[JimmyDimples]

How much is too much?  Well… that's really relative.  It depends on the story and how imaginative the writer is. 

Though I'd love to see a comic or story where an enterprising scientist tries to determine the threshold of diminishing returns on female growth. (*COUGH coffkoffSonyaGannonkoff*)

though I'd probably rather see Dr. Gannon recreate THIS experiment in the meantime…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTC2Ihnsrf0&mode=related&search=

[JimmyDimples]

Nice link, Masschine.  It's true that having someone supporting you or a loved one through a deadly illness is like having a superhero team on your side. 

It's especially meaningful to me since I have an aunt who had to go through breast cancer surgery herself.  Those of you in the pr4y3r mode, I hope you can spare a moment or a Word for her.

[JimmyDimples]

Someone wise once said, "It is better to keep silent and be suspected a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

With that, I say, let's be sweet, let him in the USA, and let him flap his trap.  😛

[Author]

Posts