Micro Wave Man Ch. 01

Jun 14, 2009

MWM Chapter One "Meet Mark Surrender"

Current mood:creative

Heavy Metal Thunder Productions

Presents...

Copyright protected on May 2009.

The persons, places, entities, and events depicted in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, places, entities, or events is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Warning! Some stories may contain adult language, explicate violence, adult situations, and some sexual content. These stories are intended for a mature audience.

The Cosmic Rays Incident

Book I, The Origins of Micro Wave Man and Punk Rocker

Written by Stacy James Meadows

With Concepts Created by Stacy James Meadows, Larry William Van Hoorebeke, and Donald Edward Van Hoorebeke.

Previously on The Cosmic Rays Incident Book I, The Origins of Micro Wave Man and Punk Rocker... In the prologue Dr. Spy turned on and booted up his computer to check on some files. This is the story those files held.

Chapter One "Meet Mark Surrender"

Mark's bulgy fat fingers gripped tightly around the steering wheel of his light blue four door automobile, as he was driving home from his job. Only one real constant thing was on his mind, he was hungry.

He thought about the choices of food he could nuke in the microwave oven as soon as he got home. As he pulled up to a stop at a red light, he knew there were pizza rolls, burritos, and even hamburgers he could nuke. He didn't know exactly what he wanted, maybe he would just nuke them all.

Sweat poured from his forehead, and he tried, without much success, to wipe it away with one of his pudgy hands. Sweat already soaked through his button up dress shirt, and the blotches of wetness showed under the arm pits, and on his back through the white long sleeve shirt. The light turned green and traffic began to move again. His corduroy brown slacks felt wet to him as well, and he silently cursed the heat, before his thoughts went back to food again. He stepped on the gas pedal slowly easing onward with the traffic, cursing the slow moving vehicles that were keeping him from his precious food.

He didn't really even know why he was so hungry. He had, after all, just ate four doughnuts, and drank a large cup of hot chocolate just an hour ago. Deep down inside he knew he needed to even lose weight, and that all the junk food he ate wasn't good for him at all, even the doctors had told him all this, but the truth of the matter was that he didn't really care. Nobody really cared about him, so why should he care about himself?

All of his life he had been fat, even after he tried to workout, diet, and anything else he could think of to do. Nothing really ever worked to make him thinner, and after several failed attempts, he simply gave up hope. Kids in school had always made fun of him for it. "Hey, Mark, I surrender, before you eat me!" They would tease, making fun of both his name, and of how fat he was at the same time. It really hurt him that kids could be so cruel. What had even hurt more was the bullies who would say, "Hey, Mark, I surrender!" Then they would pounce on him, and beat the living tar out of him. This thought infuriated him slightly, along with the slow moving traffic, as he pulled up behind two other cars to a four way stop sign.

He noticed several good looking girls in the car in front of him, and though he looked at them with interest, he knew he would never have a chance with any of them. He definitely wasn't ever what you would call a lady's man, and he never really had any friends at all, especially any that were females. Any people that ever had anything to do with him always were just using him for something, mostly just taking advantage of him. He never even went to any of the school's social events because of this. He never went to the prom or even his own graduation. What was the point? He knew that everyone didn't really care if he showed up or not, so he choose not to go through the hassle.

Deep down he knew this was just a fear of his as well, as he edged the car forward slowly to a stop behind the car full of girls at a stop sign. He felt that going to those events would all be the same. He would go, try to ask women to dance, and be shot down, and then to top it off, the bullies would be there and at least make fun of him, if not actually beat him up. Of course, he opted for the coward's way out of not going instead of testing his theory out. His parents always to busy with their own careers, and he being an only child, able to stay out of trouble and take care of himself, left it open for him to do whatever he wanted, and no one seemed to notice that he never went. Especially since he had made such good grades that he had earned himself a scholarship to start college immediately in the summer.

He watched as the car full of girls took off, and he slowly pulled up to the stop sign himself. He wondered about how he often thought about what it would be like to be a lady's man. Occasionally, he daydreamed of having sexual relations with various women. He even tried on some occasions to ask women out, but was immediately turned down every time. He slowly pulled out from the stop sign, and continued on down the road towards his home, and the awaiting food he desperately craved.

Hell, it was even this dream of being a lady's man that drove him into his first career choice. Ladies always fell for the successful lawyers and doctors, or at least, they did on television. He knew right off that his huge fat pudgy fingers would never quite grip a scalpel just right to make the right incisions in an operation, and the sight of blood made him feel a little queasy, so the only real choice for him was to become a lawyer. It wasn't even all that hard of a job really. You just went in front of people and argued your point, and hopefully your point was better made than your opponent's. Quite simple really, as long as you didn't think to much about making an idiot out of yourself in front of people, which he no longer cared if he did or not.

He went to college, learned all of the important legalese words, and was even hired onto a law firm, but the women never came to him. His first case as a defendant lawyer is what really turned him away from this line of work. He just simply didn't have the stomach for it, which was really saying a lot considering the size of his stomach.

The name of his first, and only, client had been Randal Bookbagger. He was up on murder one charges, and it was up to good old Mark to prove that Randal was innocent. Mark knew for a fact though that this was not in anyway, shape, or form true. Randal had committed the murder, and even bragged about it in confidence to Mark, who could say nothing to anyone about it because of lawyer client confidentiality. Mark thought for sure that he was going to lose this case, and ruin his credibility as a lawyer, but to his astonishment he had won. An important piece of evidence, that would have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Randal had done it, was thrown out of court on a minor technicality. Without that the prosecutor had no real case at all against Randal.

To Mark's surprise he made his argument and won. This made him a very successful lawyer, but it made his stomach turn. It allowed a murderer to roam free, and, even though Mark was paid handsomely well for it, his stomach turned at the idea of what he had done, and he no longer wanted to be a lawyer. It had relieved him just a little, that a week later Randal had been found murdered, but that didn't change his mind about the job really. After such a successful case he had found that many people were interested in hiring him as their defendant lawyer as well, but he turned them all down.

He used the money to go back to college, and decided to be an accountant instead. Sure there were no women chasing after successful accountants, but they weren't really lining up for him as a successful lawyer either. If they did he would have suspected them of going after his money, or something that he could do for them, instead of actually going after him just for him.

This new job suited him a lot more better. He had weekends free to do whatever, and during the weekdays, except on holidays, he just sat in an office all day figuring out the amount of money made, and the amount spent, and every two weeks, he made out all of the employees paychecks. No one ever really came to bother him, except every once in awhile to check the books, and every once in awhile a person would complain about their check, but he always proved them wrong because he never made a mistake. It wasn't hard work, and he could go home with a clean conscious.

Which is what he was doing just now, and instead of feeling guilty about what he did at work today, he was free to feel whatever he really wanted to, and right now that was extreme hunger. He pulled into his driveway, and parked his car. Grabbing his briefcase, he hurriedly hobbled his way to his front door. The sweat was really pouring from him as he fumbled with his keys in his pudgy hands, and unlocked the front door.

As soon as he entered his house, slamming the door shut behind himself, he practically just dropped the briefcase just inside the door, and ran, which was more like a waddle, towards his refrigerator. His belly bounced up and down with every step, and his breathing was a heavy gasping of gulps of air. Sweat was really pouring off of him now, and he could smell the foul odor of himself, but he didn't care.

With a wheezing breath he opened his freezer, briefly enjoying the instant cooling effect it had on him, and browsed through the boxes of microwavable food inside, while he briefly caught his breath. He quickly decided on pizza rolls, and pulled them out. He got a paper plate out of the cabinet, poured the pizza rolls out on it, and practically threw them into the microwave oven.

He set the timer then reached into the fridge for a can of soda. He turned back to the microwave oven to watch the numbers counting down. He opened the can and took a long drink, practically guzzling the whole can down. He threw the can into the waste basket, and retrieved another can from the fridge. He didn't open it yet, preferring to wait for the pizza rolls to get done. His mouth wasn't as parched as it had been, yet it still hungrily watered for those juicy flavorful pizza rolls.

Ten seconds left, and he could already taste them. A taste he wouldn't get as to his surprise a loud bang could be heard filling his ears with a ringing pain, and a bright light seen flashing into his eyes, before everything faded away, going black as he went into unconsciousness, as the microwave oven exploded around him.

To be continued.

Next Chapter Two "Another Day, Another Dollar, A Penny After Taxes"... Dr. Spy sends a young gang member, who has earned his trust, on a theft mission. Will Tyrone Bookbagger and his loyal dog be able to pull it off.

File #: 6

Character Star Power: 5

Name: Mark Surrender

Legal Status: Single, no criminal record. Former Lawyer.

Rank: None.

Occupation: Accountant.

Known Relatives: Father, mother, and a very rich aunt & uncle.

Birth Date: December 1, 1968.

Birth Place: Los Angeles, CA. (Currently living in Chicago.)

Height: 6' 0"

Weight: 386lbs.

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Blond

Strength: 3 (4 if he puts all his weight into it.)

Equipment: Nothing special.

Known Skills: Accounting, Law, High Academic Record.

Limitations or Weaknesses: Mortal.

For More Info. See: None.

History: Just keep an eye on this fat man, because he is about to get his just deserts. Stay tuned as Mark gets a gift I bet any fat man would love to get. (I know I would.)