The Blue Nazarene

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The rocket car was still accelerating as it hit the ramp. For a spine-jarring second, boards rumbled beneath the slicks, confusing the suspension and irresistibly twisting the steering wheel from the Duckman’s grip. He met his mark at the correct speed, but sideways - no time to correct - then a deafening rush of air as he was launched skyward. The Blue Nazarene was born to the clear summer sky amidst a cloud of splintered balsa wood, dust, and tattered bunting, all smouldering from licks of the fifteen-foot cone of hellfire tearing from the vehicle’s rear.


The Duckman stiffened to a solid lump of gristle and tugged hard at the ejector cord between his knees. His actions preemted nothing but the pathetic whine of a cracked servo and the continued swirl of turbulent air. He braced himself for untold physical punishment, screaming in carnal terror as the forest spun toward him in blurry swathes of grey and brown.


From the crowd effused a thick funereal silence. Boys dressed in their hero’s trademark duck costume stood incredulous. Glossy programs were dropped to the floor: The Incredible Flying Duck-Man Jumps The Wicked Forest! His Most Dangerous Stunt Yet!


Created: Jan 25, 2011

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