SURGE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD

 

SURGE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD

by CRAIG DEBOARD 

A BLACKSTAR UNIVERSE PRODUCTION

(Mature Readers Only! Suggested For Readers 18+)

PART ONE

"I can't believe you shaved!" Jennifer said with a look of surprise.

"Well, one of us had to," Surge said, rolling his eyes at his soon-to-be ex-wife. The two had been having marital problems for the last six months after Surge had begun trending on AOL.com. The 90s had been a special time.

"Whatever, blue-balls. Here, your tie is crooked," she said, straightening the fabric and giving it a yank, choking Surge slightly. The blue-skinned man coughed, and Jennifer turned and stormed out of the bedroom.

"Not the only thing that's been crooked," Surge muttered under his breath. His soon-to-be ex-wife had filed for divorce a month prior and had already moved on to someone new. A woman by the name of Alison. Surge was miserable. It was bad enough for the warrior from the underwater ocean kingdom of Pacifica that he was being divorced, but now he had to face himself in the mirror every day, feeling he was responsible for turning her lesbian. Trying to fool himself into believing he had just been too much man for her didn't work no matter how hard he tried, and Jennifer made it no secret that she wasn't interested in males any longer. 

"When's Alison coming over?" Surge asked as he exited the bedroom into the living room.

"She'll be here in a few minutes. She just paged me," Jennifer said, glancing at her beeper.

"That wasn't what I meant, Ice Queen," Surge said with snark. Jennifer Jacobs was also known to the world as Arctic, a hero with the ability to lower temperatures to -30° and create ice and snow. The woman turned, pointing an accusing finger at Surge.

"You don't get to call me that anymore," she said with anger in her voice.

"I could think of a dozen other things to call you but they aren't very nice," Surge said back to his soon-to-be ex, not backing down from the argument.

"It's 1999, dickhead. Gay people are coming up in this world whether you like it or not," she said defensively.

"It's never been about you being a lesbian, and you know it. You cheated on me!" He said, raising his voice.

"You fucked an 80-foot-tall orangutan!" Arctic yelled back.

"That's not how it happened, and you know it!" Surge said, his temper getting the best of him.

"Right. The government stole your cum and invented more than two dozen mini-Surges," she said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her jacket from the coatrack next to the front door.

"That is how it happened!" Surge said, being completely honest.

"Whatever, asshole. Alison is waiting in the driveway. Find your own way to the show," Jennifer said.

"You know I don't have a car! I don't even know how to drive!" Surge said, walking out the front door behind her.

"Whatever. Take the fucking bus!" Jennifer said, giving Surge the finger and getting in the car with her girlfriend.

"But it's a show in my honor!" Surge yelled as the vehicle backed out of the driveway onto the street. 

PART TWO

"We are live, here in downtown Hollywood on Vine Street, celebrating the one and only, the man everyone has questions about, one of the most celebrated celebrities in the country, Surge!" The host said into the camera with enthusiasm while holding his microphone, "How did that sound?"

"Like shit," the cameraman said, lowering the Ikegami HK 323, a three-tube color camera that was heavy and bulky.

"Maybe if I change the word celebrity to superstar?" The host said as actors and musicians mingled with one another on the red carpet outside the venue. Everyone across the country had been curious about Surge. No one understood why a large blue-skinned man had emerged from the ocean on the shores of San Diego a few years before. Many believed he was an alien. Some thought he might have been a merman who was close to finishing evolving into a human. Some believed his blue skin was a result of drowning, and he had come back to life. The government knew the answers, but were keeping their lips sealed, and Surge was just as curious as the rest of the people were. His memories were spotty. The word MAXIMUS stood out to him but he wasn't sure why. He knew he remembered others like him, both male and female, but also wasn't sure why about that. He adjusted well enough to life on the surface, enjoying things like Friday nights at Blockbuster, Fruit Striped Gum, and Pamela Anderson. His favorite show was Seinfeld, and he was the first, before anyone else, to make the accusation.

"That mother fucker's guilty!" Surge yelled, pointing at the television as the white Bronco fled multiple police cars on the freeway.

"You just think that because he's black!" Arctic said, offended.

"You're just saying that because you're black!" Surge said.

"Whatever, white-bread!" She yelled, storming off to the bedroom.

"I'm fucking blue!" He yelled after her.

Surge felt the bumps in the road as the city bus bounded along down Colorado Avenue through Los Angeles. He thought about what life would be like once the divorce was finalized. Would he meet someone new? Would she be just as demanding? He wondered if he should move. He heard the Midwest was more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of the West Coast. He thought about Indiana. He had heard it was a few larger cities, but mostly farmland. The state was popular for corn and college basketball. Surge wasn't a big fan of either of those things, but the idea of relaxing with no neighbors around for at least a mile while watching sports and just enjoying the quiet seemed like a better way to live than constantly dealing with the paparazzi of California, the gang problems, and the earthquakes. Surge's beeper made itself known. He glanced down and checked the number.

"Black Cheetah," he said to himself. He reached up and pressed the stop button. The bus rolled through the yellow light and pulled over at the curb. Surge exited and began walking down the sidewalk in search of a phone booth.

PART THREE

"What if I say he's the next Jean Claude?" The host asked the cameraman.

"Man, I don't give a fuck, just hurry up. I gotta pee," he said back, crossing his legs, feeling the weight of the heavy camera.

Surge put the thirty-five cents into the payphone and dialed Black Cheetah's number.

"Can't believe they raised the price," he complained while listening to the other end of the line ring and waiting for Cheetah to answer.

"This is Cheetah," the voice answered.

"Waaazup?!" Surge said into the phone.

"Waaazup!" Black Cheetah responded.

"I'm on my way to the show now," Surge said, as others walked past on the sidewalk, not paying him much attention. Most in Southern California had grown used to seeing the blue-skinned man. While he was a novelty for the rest of the country and especially TV land, the news had worn off quickly with most on the West Coast, and they had quickly gone back to giving their attention to the rumors of an ALF reboot.

"You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago," Black Cheetah said.

"Well, I would be if you hadn't called. Now I have to wait for another bus. If I walk I won't be there for another hour," Surge said, exasperated and rolling his eyes.

"You want drinks at Santa Monica Pier after the show? I know you don't like after-parties for these things," Cheetah said.

"That sounds good, but no tequila this time. I still have that hangover, and it's been six months since," Surge said.

"Sounds good. I'll tell the wife I'll be late. We need to go over this bank heist case. Just hurry. I'll try to stall and keep everyone else occupied," Cheetah said.

"Sounds good. Outy five thousand," Surge said.

"Outy five thousand," Cheetah said and hung up.

Surge placed the phone back on the payphone hook and exited the phone booth, and went and sat down on the bench at the bus stop to wait.

PART FOUR

"Oh, the divorce is amicable. We're still friends," Jennifer lied to the reporter and laughed as Alison stood next to her. Both wore beautiful evening gowns at the red carpet event that was now crowded with everyone awaiting the arrival of Surge.

"We've heard rumors that you aren't the only one who has come out of the closet and that Surge is expected to reveal his new boyfriend tonight," the reporter lied, trying to create news where there was none.

"Oh, he's been talking to quite a few men. I would say I'm jealous, but Alison here makes me so happy," she lied again, putting her arm around Alison and kissing her on the cheek. "We'll see you in there!" Arctic and Alison then made their way into the venue.

"And our next guest we have for you folks at home is none other than the woman Surge had a very public relationship with, broadcast on television everywhere, King Konnie!" The reporter said, looking up. The 80-foot-tall orangutan wearing a luxurious evening gown, blonde wig, and make-up done by Cindy Crawford herself knelt to try to be seen in the camera. 

"Welcome to the show, Konnie, how have you been?" The reporter asked, his voice shaking with fear of the large primate.

"It's been a difficult time. The kids are good, but them not seeing their father has been hard," she said.

"I can only imagine. So the two of you have more than twenty-six children in total?" The reporter asked.

"All sets of twins, yes."

"That's incredible. President Clinton showing his support to you and the kids must be a relief," the reporter said.

"It is. He's a very friendly man. Willy, I still have the same number. Call me," she said, giving a wink into the camera. The large orangutan then made her way into the venue.

"What an incredible evening we're having here in Hollywood tonight, folks, right in the heart of Los Angeles, celebrating the one and only Surge! We'll be right back after these massages."

"Cut," the cameraman said.

"Fuck, I said massages, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about it, I don't think anyone will notice."

"You want to get a hotel room after this?" The reporter asked.

"Only if you wear the ball-gag," he said, giving the cameraman a wink.

PART FIVE

"Hey man, you got some crack?" An unkempt derelict asked, following Surge down the sidewalk as he passed by average Los Angelinos. 

"No."

"What about some crank? You got any crank?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"How 'bout some PCP? You gotta have some PCP!"

"I don't, now leave me alone."

"Come on man, you gotta have something. I just need a little fix," the addict said still following along.

"Here, I'll fix you," Surge said as he stopped walking, now annoyed beyond belief.

One moment and five knuckles later, Surge walked away from where he had left the unconscious derelict. The bus rolled past him. "Damn it, not again! That's the third one I've missed!"

"Our next guest needs no introduction, television viewers, the one and only Gary Coleman!"

"Hey, what's up, Chuck?" Gary said.

"What you talkin' about? Am I right? Am I right?" The reporter asked with a grin and looked directly into the camera.

"Yeah, um, I don't play that role anymore, Chuck," Gary said and walked off into the venue.

"And our next guest, folks, is the indomitable Sylvester Stallone! How's your new movie coming along, Sly?"

"Hey-uh, you know, it's uh, it's going really well. Hopefully, we'll wrap up filming here in the next month and then it's off to post-production."

"And you actually have some history with the man of the hour, Surge, isn't that right?"

"Well, uh yeah, we're neighbors."

"Any fun stories about him not returning the weed wacker he borrowed weeks ago?"

"Uh no, not really, he uh, he sorta keeps to himself, you know," Stallone said and made his way across the red carpet into the venue.

"And our next guest, folks, is none other than the one and only, the immortal Hulk Hogan! How's it going, Hulkster?"

"Well, let me tell you something, brother, Surge is the next big thing, brother, and with our powers combined for the sequel called No Holds Barred 2, we're going to run wild all over the box office, brother!" Hulk said with a flex and made his way into the venue.

"You heard it here first, folks, the Hulk and Surge, the two biggest icons in American pop-culture today tag-teaming to bodyslam theater ticket sales everywhere soon! And next we have none other than everyone's favorite--"

"Hold on, Chuck, I'm running out of battery power," the cameraman said.

Surge made his way into the bus and found a seat. Across the aisle sat a small girl and her mother. The mother read a magazine as the bus rolled along, and the little girl stared at the big, blue-skinned man in awe. Surge felt himself being watched, gave her a glance, and went back to staring ahead while waiting to be asked for an autograph.

"You look funny. Like my Mommy's old cartoons she used to watch when she was a little girl that she lets me watch tapes of," the little girl said.

"Mandy, leave him alone. I'm sorry, sir," the mother apologized.

"It's fine," Surge said with a smile, "what cartoons on old tapes do you mean?" He asked the little girl.

"Smurfs."

PART SIX

"What a highlight reel of some of Surge's greatest encounters. Not as great as my last movie of course," Billy Crystal said into the microphone while on stage at the event. The crowd laughed and quieted down again.

"Our next act needs no introduction, ladies and gentlemen. I'm a big fan of them, just like they're big fans of Surge, ladies and gentlemen, Millie Vanilli!"

Surge exited the bus and saw reporters standing outside the venue. Most of the crowd remained, as only the celebrities could afford tickets to the event. Black Cheetah spotted the big blue bastard and rushed to him.

"What took you so long?" He asked.

"Do you have any idea how many bus drivers in this town don't understand what a bus stop is?" Surge said, his tie loosened, his shirt untucked, and sweat dripping from his hairline.

"You smell awful. What is that?" Black Cheetah asked as the two hurried around the corner of the building. It was too late. The crowd saw them and started to hurry after them.

"Stepped in dog shit," Surge said as the two ducked inside the back door of the building. The crowd followed, but security stopped them at the door.

"Once Cher and Vanilla Ice finish their duet, Billy will introduce you to the audience, and you'll take the stage," Black Cheetah said.

"Jennifer and her date find their seats okay?" Surge asked while sitting in the green room, scraping the dog shit off his shoe with someone's hairbrush.

"They did," Cheetah said, handing Surge a tissue.

"Good. I want to see the look on her face when I tell the world--"

"Don't go there," Cheetah warned.

"You my P.R. now?" Surge asked, not like being told what to say and not say.

"No, I'm your partner, and we're still cops. If you call out Jennifer for that bank heist, the show will become all about her. This is your moment. Just let the investigation play its way out," Black Cheetah advised.

"You're probably right."

"I know I am."

"Still doesn't feel right. We know she did it," Surge said.

"Don't worry. After this, there's nothing that can get in our way of putting her behind bars where she belongs," Cheetah said.

"I hope you're right. She's bad news."

"Leroy Brown?" Cheetah asked.

"I don't understand the reference."

"Never mind. Thought you were going to make a black joke," Black Cheetah said.

"Why does everyone think I'm some white pride asshole? I look like a fucking crayon," Surge said, pointing out his blue skin.

PART SEVEN

"What a duet, ladies and gentlemen! Let's hear it one more time for Cher and Vanilla Ice!" Billy Crystal said into the microphone. The crowd applauded and then quieted down again.

"We'll be right back after these messages."

The television clicked off, and Chen Tai sat back in his recliner in the lavish penthouse apartment. His bodyguards stood nearby, waiting for orders. Chen sat in silence for a moment before finally speaking.

"Tonight at the docks. We draw him out. This time, Surge will understand defeat and humiliation, just as I have," the Chinese mafia overlord said with a sneer.

"Boss, no one cares that you got your penis cut off in your last battle against him," one of the bodyguards said.

Chen Tai slowly stood from the recliner and tossed the remote onto the seat behind him. "No one cares?" he asked, walking up to the television and pulling one of the two long swords from their holsters that hung on the wall above the TV.

"Boss, that's, I mean, boss, it's not what I meant," the bodyguard said, giving a nervous glance at the other bodyguard.

"It's not what you meant?" Chen said, turning and slowly walking toward the guard.

"I mean, it is! I care about your penis, boss!" The bodyguard said, terrified.

"You care about my cock?" Chen said, raising the sword and aiming it directly at the nose of the bodyguard.

"I love your cock!" The bodyguard blurted out, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Chen took one half-step backward and thrust forward, driving the sword through the stomach of the guard. Blood spurted out of the guard's mouth, and he fell over sideways, dead.

"Clean this mess up. Remember, tonight at the docks," Chen said to the other bodyguard and then dropped the sword on the floor before walking out of the room.

"Yes, sir," the remaining bodyguard said with a nod.

PART EIGHT 

"Ladies and gentlemen, without any further ado, it is my honor to introduce you to the one, the only, SURGE!" Billy Crystal said into the microphone.

The crowd erupted into applause as Surge made his way onto the stage. He shook Billy's hand and gave a wink to Jennifer Aniston in the crowd. Jennifer Jacobs, his soon-to-be ex-wife, glared at Jennifer Aniston.

"Thank you so much, everyone," he began his speech.

EPILOGUE 

"Who the fuck used my hairbrush?!" Vanilla Ice yelled from the green room.

FOR MORE SURGE ADVENTURE, BE SURE TO READ OUR NEXT INSTALLMENT, SURGE 99!