BLOODWORTH IV: Peter Strikes Back by Tai Goodman (novel books to read .TXT) 📕

Peter just walked through the lobby and proceeded into the filing room. "Oh, wow, it was that easy. Okay then..." Peter then walked over into an office complex of cubicles and employees on computers. He looked to the right and saw one typing away at his computer. Peter slowly tip-toed over to the man, sitting there in his chair. "Now, carefully grab him." Peter placed his hand over the man's mouth and restrained him with his arm. "SHH SHH SHH.... It's alright. Don't say a damn word, and follow me." 

The employee nodded in fear. Peter noticed that feature and said, "Hey, chin up, I ain't gonna hurt you." The two continued into a janitor's closet, and Peter threw him against the wall. "ALRIGHT MOTHERFUCKER, SPILL IT! WHO OPERATES THE FILES FOR THE TERRORIST WITH A BASEBALL BAT?"

"UHH... UHHHH..."

Peter picked up a square carton of bleach and twisted the cap off. "YOU GOT FIVE SECONDS TO TELL ME OR YOUR FEET ARE GONNA BURN BADLY." 

"Giovanni! Giovanni Rennes! Please leave me alone!" 

"What's he look like?"

"He's... He's BALD."

"KEEP GOING..."

"He's skinny! Blue suit, green tie with purple stripes!"

"SO IS HE NOT WEARING PANTS OR WHAT?"

"He's wearing.... umm.... Khakis?" 

"Alright. That's all I needed to know."

Peter walked out of the closet with the employee tied up and wearing his uniform. He proceeded past cubicles, noticing the electronic name-plates on each as he strolled past. "Giovanni..." He saw names like James Gray, Beau Caldonia, and Norman Sudolph. Nothing by the words of Giovanni. "Alright I've been walking around like an idiot for about 2 minutes, where the fuck is Giovanni?" 

Peter gulped and walked up behind an employee named Herschel Diamond. "Hey, man, where's Giovanni? Can't seem to find him." 

"He's in his office, like usual...." 

"Where's his office again?"

Herschel spun around in his chair. "Dude- Oh, wait, you're that intern.... Ummm... See that door over there? Knock first, and then go in," he informed Peter. He nodded, and then knocked on the door. The screen on the door said, "COME INSIDE." 

He strolled through the door which disappeared, and Giovanni was sitting right there. "Hey, intern-orino! What's up?" Giovanni asked, enthusiastically. Peter noticed a drawing board with Nazi advertisements all over it. "Where's the files for that guy with the uh... Leather trench coat and baseball bat?"

"Why do you need it?"
"Umm... Uhhh.... B-Beau needed it." 

"Ah, they are right..."

A slot opened up the table and a file exited the hole. 

"Here."

Peter took the folder and said, "Thanks, man!" as he walked out the door. 

"WAIT. STOP! I've got something for you! Bonus points on your credit for college, take these files and give 'em to Eugene for me," Giovanni told him. Peter rotated himself and accepted the files. Walking out the door, he threw away some files in a bin. "Hey, trashcan, deliver these to that guy."  Peter passed the janitor's closet door, and heard THUMP! The door budged a little. Peter flinched and kept on moving. As he was exiting the station, he read the files. "Let's see... Assignment for Eugene Phillips... Target: Wait, what? Man with a shotgun and body armor..." 

Peter spun around and then thought, "SHIT, WRONG FILE!"

He rolled right back into the police station and saw a janitor pulling the tied up hostage out of the closet. "SHIT. HURRY THE FUCK UP." Peter leaped over the hostage and sprinted to the trashcan. Digging through it, his fingers found the files. "YES!"

Then the second he turned around, he saw every employee staring at him. The hostage ripped the tape off of his mouth and screamed, "KICK HIS ASS!"

Peter dodged a chair flying in his direction. "Book it. And I mean BOOK. IT." He jogged through two employees trying to grab him and made it through the lobby. The receptionist announced, "Attention everybody, there is an intruder in the filing station. Please request assistance, immediately." Peter made it to his vehicle, and flung the car door open. Getting inside, he watched a few employees chasing after him. "Pulling out motherfuckers! Uhh... That's what she said." Peter stomped on the pedal and the car didn't budge. "SHIT!" 

He pressed down on the other pedal and drove backwards onto the road. Peter forced the gears in "FORWARD" and took off. Peter reached into the glove-box and pulled a secret microphone out. He leaned over to it and spoke, "Replace license plate with code: FCK-N4Z1S." The license plate on the back of the car shifted into a new label. 

The garage door opened up and revealed Peter standing there with his files. "Play it cool." Kraut looked up and said, "HOW ARE YOU ALIVE? I am sure security vould have cratered you into ZHE GROUND!" 

"This 'security' was barely even there. All I did was snatch the file and run. So if there was some in the building, they're probably the laziest bunch of guards this world has ever laid eyes on." 

Peter slapped the folder down on the workbench and then walked over to Kraut, hanging from the ceiling. He examined Kraut, face to face. "You weren't very intelligent getting yourself here. And if I'm not misunderstood, you're probably gonna hang here until you die. For right now, however, all you're useful for is a punching bag that I can beat the crap out of when I'm pissed off," Peter informed him, receiving a spit of saliva from Kraut on his cheek. "Hahahah.... THAT'S THE TICKET!" 

Peter socked Kraut face. "You want all the rest of your limbs to stay intact? Then don't do that again," Peter threatened him, walking over to the workbench. The moment he opened the file, there was a whole lot of blackmail content on Peter. People he has killed with his "trusty" baseball bat, the "crimes" he's committed, and his basic information. "Man, whoever jotted this stuff down's really got a NOIICEE pair of baby blues in their eye-sockets." In the corner of the paper was a big red-ink stamp that was marked, "SIGNED BY KOMMANDANT MEINDABANN." 

"Oh my GOD.... Meindabann..."

Kraut grinned.

"...He's..... He's..."

"JA, JA, SPIT IT OUT!"

"BOOOOOOORIING! Nobody wants to hear about that cretin! He can go suck a fat one. You wanna hear about action packed violence, guns, explosions, and PECS! That's why you're reading this! So, ooh, a convenient comic book!"

THE RISE OF EXPLODIAN

WRITTEN BY HAROLD TILLMAN
ILLUSTRATED BY WINONA PIERCE

PUBLISHED BY DEEP FREEZE COMICS INC.

"In the United States of America, there is a time of war, peace, and life. But at this time, it's war. One man, one lethal weapon, will stand up to the oppression as EXPLODIAN!"

KENTUCKY

People were being gunned down on the streets by marching soldiers and moving tanks. One enemy standing on top of a tank was watching all of the chaos unravel within the town. "HA HA HA! This is an EXCELLENT PLOT OF LAND for my X-RAY! Once it is planted, I WILL HAVE THE ULTIMATE WEAPON! And NOBODY can stop me!" 

Then a superhero wearing a bombshell's top came out from around a corner. "MY MY! What is that? Is that EXPLODIAN? Come back to get trashed again by my tanks?" said the enemy.

"No, Brutale, I've come to stop you from terrorizing this town," spoke Explodian, standing still. He cocked the gadgets on his wrists and the electronic label read, "READY." Explodian popped his neck in place. Brutale looked down through the hatch of the tank and nodded, whispering, "KICK. HIS. ASS."

The tank fired a missile and blew up a building's entrance near Explodian. Just in time, he dodged a falling rock coming from above him. It fell and split into bricks and pieces of stone. Explodian snatched up an entire brick, and aimed for the barrel of the tank. "POWER THROW!" 

Explodian punted the brick into the nozzle of the tank's barrel. Brutale watched it happen, and then looked up in fear. "OH LORD." 

He jumped off of the tank, afraid. "Sir, permission to fire? Sir? SIR? Alright, I guess I'll fire anyways!" said the driver. The missile launched and was caught inside of the barrel. "Wait, WHAT THE F-"

KABOOM! The tank exploded into pieces of scrap and shrapnel. Brutale searched for a place to hide, and watched Explodian come out of smoke. Brutale slipped on his spiked brass knuckles. "Alright, you want a piece of me? LET'S FIGHT!" 

"Bring it, Brutale!"

Explodian punched Brutale into the pavement. He quickly composed himself, stood out of the crater, and kicked Explodian in his stomach and chopped him in his neck. "How does pain taste, SUPER-ZERO?" 

"Tastes like POWER SURGING THROUGH MY VEINS!"

Explodian fired two homing missiles from his gadgets, which were quickly shot down by Brutale and landed in separate buildings. Brutale enabled his laser-sight on his weapon and aimed for Explodian's head. Before he was able to fire, Explodian enabled the electromagnetic pulse on his vest and disabled Brutale's gadget. "What in the name of Christ? COME ON, DAMNED THING, WORK!" 

Brutale slammed his fist repeatedly on his gadget and then watched Explodian approach him with a grenade. "No, WAIT! STOP! THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

Explodian pulled the pin and rolled it beneath Brutale's feet. "NO! NO!!!!!"

Then the grenade caused a jail cell to form instead of exploding. "There's been enough death today, FIEND." 

"BULLSHIT-A-MUNDO! That ending sucked ass! Let's rewrite that!" Peter complained.

 Explodian walked over to Brutale with the grenade, shoved it down Brutale's mouth, and pulled the pin. "See you in Hell, PUSSY!" Explodian remarked as he walked away. Brutale exploded into several giblets and parts. Then two women came out of nowhere and took Explodian by his arms. "Oh, Explodian... Your muscles are big and strong..."

"I know, random woman, let's go back to my place." 

"ALRIGHT, now THAT is a badass ending! I don't know what type of retarded troglodite wrote that original one." 

Peter lightly smacked the ground with his baseball bat. "Alright, Nazi bitch, where's Meindabann? And you better answer or else I'll kill you slowly and painfully, so you can savor every last millisecond you have to BREATHE." 

Peter readied the baseball bat with two hands. "Don't make me ask twice!" Peter screamed at him. 

"AH! OKAY! Alright, I tell you! He's... He's downtown..."

"GO ON."

"Downtown... and UP YOUR ASS AT ZHE TOP CORNER."

"TIME TO PLAY BALL!"

Peter smacked Kraut in his leg. The barbs dug deep into the flesh, and then hauled right out of the wound. "Tell me where the hell he is. And maybe I won't put another hole in you." Kraut watched his leg bleed onto the ground. "No answer, eh? Alright..."

Peter whacked Kraut in his side, and pulled the bat out. "That side of your body's where some of the internal organs are. Where I hit you, your intestines are probably bleeding right now." 

Natasha entered the