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Pepsiman Returns
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pepsimanIt was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and Pepsiman was walking down the sidewalk, his polished aluminum body gleaming. He was a stickler for neatness Pepsiman was, he despised dirt and filth wherever he saw it.
"Hey!" His loud voice boomed, "Hey dirtbag! Yeah I'm talking to you mister!" Pepsiman stopped in front of an old, ragged, homeless man.
"Geezuz Krist! When was the last time you had a bath?" Pepsiman gagged. His sense of smell was actually quite acute for not having any nose. The vagrant looked up from his position on the curb, a look of stupefaction on his sagging face.
"I tell ya, you people make me sick sometimes. Hey what's this you're drinking here?" He snatched a brown paper bag away from the old geezer who vainly tried to hold on to his possession. At the same time he made a groaning gasp that sounded like it might be language of some sort. Pepsiman took a hesitant sniff of the contents of the bag, frowned, and threw it over his shoulder into the middle of the street whereupon the bottle inside promptly shattered. A couple of cars screeched and swerved around the mess, horns blaring.
"Screw you too assholes!" Pepsiman hollered after them. He then turned his attention back to the old man who stared at the broken glass like he had just lost his best friend in the world.
"Now look stinko, here's $100. Go and get cleaned up, and I don't just mean that stink that is you, I mean really cleaned up, or else." For emphasis, Pepsiman reached out with one hand and grabbed a parking meter, and proceeded to bend it in half. The bum's eyes opened up all the way for the first time that week.
"I'll check on you in 2 days and don't think I can't find you if you decide to run. Oh yeah, and here's a Pepsi." With that, Pepsiman straightened up and continued his saunter down the street. Only seconds passed before he heard his name being hollered.
"Pepsiman! Yo! Pepsiman, wait up!" Pepsiman glanced behind to see some street kid come running up to him.
"What the hell do you want kid?" Pepsiman didn't like loud, aggressive people. "Hey" the street kid panted, "I saw youse give that bum some money, and uh.I uh., could I have some too?"
Pepsiman didn't break stride, and the kid was forced to do a kind of jogging walk beside him to keep up.
"Quit dreaming punk, you ain't getting any money."
"Aww come on man!" the kid whined, "I like, I really need some".
Pepsiman stopped dead in his tracks. The kid, who had been trailing a bit behind him, slammed into him and fell flat on his ass.
"Hey, what the fuck did you do that for man?"
Pepsiman didn't answer, but continued to stand rooted to the spot. Ahead, a large Coke truck was parked in the alley beside a local supermarket. The kid scrambled to his feet.
"Hey man wh..."
"Get. Out. Of. Here."
Something in Pepsiman's voice must have triggered the kid's survival instincts because he backed away slowly, then when he was about 20 feet away turned around and ran. Pepsiman didn't see him leave and didn't care. He stamped towards the vehicle, leaving footprints in the concrete pavement as he went.
"Who's driving this thing?" He roared, walking around the truck. He ripped off the driver side door and peered inside, cursing when he didn't find anybody. He threw the door aside and went around to the back of the truck. There seemed to be no one around at the moment. The back hatch was closed, but unlocked. He threw the hatch up and stepped up into the darkened interior. A large lump grew in his chest when he surveyed the contents of the truck, rows upon rows and stacked to the ceiling were tons of cases of Coke. Pepsiman staggered backwards with a groan and fell out of the truck. He felt weak and nauseous.
"Ahhagggg..." He gasped. Pepsiman considered his options. He himself didn't want to touch it, and whoever was responsible for this didn't seem to be around at the moment, nor did Pepsiman want to take the time to go find him. This stuff had to be disposed of, and quickly. He looked around and spied what he was hoping to find, a large manhole cover. He pried it up and the smell coming out confirmed it was a sewer line.
"Goooooood". He purred evilly. He then went around to the front of the truck and lifted the hood. He stuck in his hand and pulled out a few pipes, wires and most of the engine.
"This puppy ain't going nowhere." He muttered to himself, tossing the greasy mess into a nearby dumpster. He looked at his arm, covered in black grease and sludge. Suddenly it started to ripple and glow. Within seconds, it was as clean and shiny as it was before. He then cast about, hoping to spot a construction site where he could find some heavy equipment, hopefully something like a wrecking ball. The alley door to the supermarket suddenly opened and a skinny guy stepped out. He had long greasy hair and his face was covered in acne. He had a cigarette between his mouth and was casually about to light it when he spotted what was happening to his truck.
"Holy shit!! What the fuck are you doing!?"
The guy's cigarette had dropped out of his mouth and he was staring in horror at the proceedings in front of him.
"I'm getting rid of this garbage and if you know what's good for you you'll clear the area. Things are going to get a bit ugly around here for a while."
Pepsiman barely gave the young guy a glance before returning his attention to the more important matter of waste disposal.
"Wait a minute, that gives me a better idea." Said Pepsiman as he strode over to the guy.
"Hold on man, what're you doing?" The young guy said, moving backwards towards the supermarket door. Pepsiman caught up with him and clamped one hand on the guy's shoulder while the other plucked the lighter out of his hand where it had been forgotten.
"Now beat it ugly," Pepsiman shoved him back through the door, "and go buy some Clearasil while you're at it, huh?" He kicked the door shut and turned back to the truck, pondering the best way to go about his messy task. He strode around to the side of the truck and looked under.
"Hmmmmm." He pondered while stroking his chin. A quick uppercut put a neat hole through the fuel tank and suddenly fuel was pouring out of the tank making a stinking pool that settled on the pavement before slowly swirling towards the sewer hole. Whistling a tune, he strode towards the street and just before he turned the corner he casually tossed the lighter back towards the pool of gas. Pepsiman continued to whistle as he leaned against the building while flaming chunks of truck rolled out of the alley and slowly turned to slag on the sidewalk.
"All in a good day's work." He murmured to himself. He continued on down the street, not bothering to check on his handiwork. Suddenly the street was alive with sirens and police cars that screeched to a halt around him, policemen leapt out pointing loaded guns in his direction. The police chief got out of his car and raised his megaphone.
"Alright Pepsiman we've got you surrounded, come quietly now, that's a good lad." He lowered the megaphone and considered the imposing silver and blue figure in front of him. Pepsiman stood with his arms crossed in front of him looking none too impressed with this entourage.
"Chief, we all know that you aren't taking me anywhere, and if you try we're going to find out what flies through the air better, you or your police car."
"Look can't you just stop destroying personal property?" The police chief whined. " I mean, it just isn't nice. he trailed off stupidly.
A few men around him rolled their eyes while others grimaced. Pepsiman grunted and began heading down the street again, neither slow nor fast. The policemen gathered around in groups grumbling to each other, surveying the wreckage of the truck. A few of them glanced back down the street in time to see Pepsiman kick a dog out of his way that had tried to sniff his leg.
"I should've put a bullet right through him," one of the policemen muttered to two of his buddies then glanced back toward the flaming mess. Not even a second later, a two litre bottle of Pepsi slammed into the man's head, knocking him flat.
"You never would have made it dickhead!" Pepsiman shouted from 50 meters away, then resumed his march down the street grinning to himself.
"Life was good," he thought, "yes, life was definitely good."



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