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} This is a follow-up to the previous Karlo Anthology installment. Read “Dungeons & Dragnets” for the complete narrative. {
“Not that I care if this is a delicate subject for you, but how can you even have a son? In your state, I mean.”
Otis Flannegan, the Ratcatcher. Ever the poet.
The coordinates given to me by The Question led far into the maze of Gotham’s sewer system. It was his suspicion that for years, the city’s orphaned population had been disappearing into these tunnels for protection. Of course only The Question would even notice a diminishment in their number; to most citizens living above the street, there appeared to be no shortage whatsoever of urchins inhabiting the alleyways. The Question is, by no stretch of the definition, “most citizens”.
Still, doubts plagued my mind, particularly when happening across Flannegan in these decrepit corridors of filth. He is ruler of this realm. Any activity or goings-on in his kingdom would be relayed to him by his horde of rodents. Thus, his perplexed reaction to my explanation of why I had invaded his private world left me with a feeling of having been cheated. One of two possibilities; The Question had relayed bogus information to me, or Ratcatcher believed he could lie to my face. Both of these understandings hurt me. Deeply.
My son. That was the only variable in the entirety of this search that I trusted unwaveringly. I knew the mother. I knew the incident. I was not jumping to conclusions.
Myself (giving a fleeting glare to Flannegan): I assure you it is a reality. I will offer no further explanation.
Flannegan (shrug): Guess you’d know best.
*He steers us around yet another corner, his lantern pole outstretched to light the slick walls. The chirping of rats and sound of dripping sewage bounces around us.*
Flannegan: There aren’t a whole lot of places I haven’t explored down here, except for this collapsed section we’re heading to. Unstable passages are a nasty business, and anywhere even my little pretties don’t like to venture into can’t be good.
*squeak, drip*
Flannegan: Seriously though, you’re a shapeshifter. Haven’t you had alternate personas just POP out of you before? What’s even the difference between that and having a kid? Aside from you being the one doing the “having”…
Myself: Those personalities have always shared my memories, simply concealed inside a new body. I reiterate, this boy had a mother. He was born, not sculpted.
Flannegan: You’re not the only Clayface anymore, Karlo. It hasn’t occurred to you this could be some trick? Who’s that one guy with the vase on his head..?
Myself (bitter): Preston Payne. A most apt surname, I assure you. He’s a deluded idiot; unbearable to collaborate with, unfit to bear the powers of Clayface.
Flannegan: I heard he wears that suit just to stay together…
Myself: He’s too WEAK. He recognizes the power as a gift, yet conceals and manages it like a burden.
Flannegan: I also hear it’s your own damn fault he got those abilities.
*I lash out at him, breaking my composure and reverting to my monstrous form. My fist stops a hair’s length from his mask, but he does not flinch. I know better than thinking I can frighten Ratcatcher. That is to say, I aught to. His words have struck a nerve I’ve long kept bandaged.*
Myself (slowly calming): THAT… is a fallacy. He obtained them… from a saboteur.
*Flannegan leads on, with no indication of trying to silence me.*
Myself: No… no, that is also incorrect. Matt Hagen… He was my ward. An actor facing the greatest fear any of them can have; the reality that his career was over. A disfigured face from a car accident saw to that. I understood his plight. I shared with him the Renuyu formula, hoping he would not only have a second chance at his dream, but also carry on my criminal legacy as well. I was certain he understood me similarly.
… He did not. Hagen was under the impression Renuyu was to be shared unsparingly with anyone who could benefit from its effects. He found a Dr. Preston Payne, who had a wish to be free of the deformities he was born with. They each found out too late Renuyu did not react to natural disorders as it did with scarred tissue. It rendered Payne’s mind as unstable as his body.
Flannegan: Well, aren’t YOU the pioneer of creating your own demons.
Myself: The ruination of my legacy did not culminate there. Payne was admitted to Arkham as an unhinged fool, publicly recognized as a pathetic madman beyond saving. His presence was acknowledged by the Kobra Cult terrorist organization, and they sent an agent to abduct him, wanting to perfect and weaponize his affliction. Sondra Fuller, the agent, now controls my powers as well. What once was unique… my OWN… is now bought and sold by private armies and dealers. Catwoman has told me she has beheld lowly thugs employing Renuyu for petty crimes and serial killing. My image is tarnished beyond repair; I have effectively been made obsolete.
Flannegan: Alright alright, you’ve poured your delicate heart out; I might change my mind about being your tour guide if you keep it up. Just somewhere around this bend is where we might… What. The hell.
*Upon taking the crumbling passage forking off to the side, we are greeted by a most peculiar spectacle: “Killer Croc” Morgan, another resident of the sewers, stands over a skeleton trussed up in strangely royal attire. It appears freshly picked clean of muscle and flesh. Poison Ivy, perched in a mass of foliage, threatens to drop a man, with a sickly yellow complexion, to the stone ledge below.*
Morgan: You lightweights wanna a piece of me too? C’mon, I’m still feeling peckish!
Myself: Calm yourself; our mission does not require confrontation.
The yellowed man: Help! For the love of newborn babies, free me from these maniacs!
Flannegan: SOMEone’s going to explain to me what you freaks are thinking, growing tree roots through an already questionably-sturdy section of MY home.
Isley: We’ll leave you to your pestilence-ridden rats soon enough, Otis. You might even thank us for the favor.
*She gestures to the skeleton.*
Flannegan: Is that… Sewer King? Good riddance, that knob stole my old walking stick.
*He rips it out of the gruesome remains’ fingers.*
Morgan (toothy maw twisted into a fiendish grin): He didn’t taste so good, but since I’m the one that took him out, I think that makes ME the Sewer King now. I like the sound of it.
The yellowed man: Are you all sadistic?!?
Morgan, Isley, Flannegan, Myself: Yes.
The yellowed man: You can’t condemn me for this! It was just a business to me, like all the crimes you people engage in!
*Some shrubbery on the wall unfolds to reveal an infant tucked in the leaves and a blanket.*
Isley: “Earthworm” here and Sewer King were trafficking little human seedlings under the cover of this sewer network. The runts fled when Croc and I ambushed this pair of degenerates.
Earthworm: Please, just turn me over to the cops! Or even a vigilante, like Huntress! She knows me!
Isley (malicious): No, I don’t think so. You may have been pathetic in life, Herbert, but my plants agree you’ll make for excellent mulch.
*Earthworm whimpers.*
Morgan: So whud’re you doing here, Basil? Ain’t yah worried about soaking up too much water? Heh heh.
Myself (looking from the child in Isley’s branches to Isley herself): I’m here for… my son. He would be about that age. Did the escaping youths have any more this young amongst them?
Isley (detached and unfeeling, as is to be expected): Perhaps.
Myself: I want a definitive answer, witch.
Isley (squinting): You don’t seem the fatherly type, Karlo. You’ve never done anything that didn’t ensure you a round of applause in the end. Why such an interest in something so… routine? Raising a bundle of meat… or mud… as your own? That’s not a life for people like us.
Myself: This situation is atypical. I want him…
*I stop myself from finishing the thought. A day ago, I might have told you I intended to raise my son in my own image; to finally craft the perfect prodigy, one whom could give the Karlo name new respect. Then I remember Hagen. Payne. Risks made for greatness that went down in flames. That would be my offspring’s fate as well, if I continued this endeavor. An odd sensation overcomes me… Empathy, I think. A desire to not subject my own heir to that same risk. In the first instance since I plunged into the world of villainy, I wanted something… good.*
Myself: … to not be like me. I want to put him in the care of a family that can keep him far away from this insanity. He will not become another failed experiment; I refuse to permit that.
Isley (slowly receding into the crevices made by her ivy, with child and Earthworm in tow): Strange words to come from someone so devoid of natural life. … I will remember that.
*Morgan, the new Sewer King, crawls into the stream of sludge flowing through the tunnel, and departs as well. I turn away, beginning my journey back to the surface. Flannegan trails behind me.*
Flannegan: So your kid’s back up top? At least it’ll be easier to track him there.
*I walk on.*
Flannegan: That whole encounter felt… wrong. Isley? Since when has she ever cared about kids? She let all of them go, even saved that baby. Why’d she care about that one?
*I keep walking.*
Flannegan: Karlo, why’d she care about that one? Does she know it? Hey, Karlo… Was that..? Karlo!
I'm gonna sneak up there one night and paint that Lawn Jocky white.
Edmund Lincoln "Eddie" Anderson (1905 – 1977), aka Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, was a Black American comedian and actor.
Anderson got his start in show business In the early 1930s. In '37, he began his most famous role as Rochester van Jones, usually just "Rochester", as the valet of Jack Benny, on his radio show & later TV show The Jack Benny Program also appeared in in movies and other TV shows.
His home in the West Adams district of Los Angeles was one of the few places in L.A. where he could have a home built because even L. A. black entertainers were not welcome in white neighborhoods due to restrictive covenants. He called on Black American architect, Paul R. Williams to designed his new massive home that sat in an area surrounded by smaller, bungalow-style homes. He also had a pool so the neighbors and their kids could play and swim in the pool. The home is currently a Bed & Breakfast.
Demolition after Implosion to weaken the structure for final tear down. If you gotta see your ponies race you still have Del Mar and Santa Anita race tracks to go see them run. Now that this demolition is taking place people are hopeful that we'll get a NFL team coming back to the L. A. area. Hmmm foot ball, golf, tennis, baseball.... sorry I rather watch grass grow, what we need is a drag strip, a motocross park, monster truck stadium a low rider park and show car arena all rolled into one.
While in my back yard helping my handyman with some work he was doing I heard a lot of cars blowing their horns right before the crash but when my air compressor came on little did I know that was the moment of impact. The driver of a white Ford van going north on the south bound side of Crenshaw Blvd. struck 2 cars with the Lincoln and it’s occupants receiving the brunt of the force from the collision. The couple that were in the Lincoln had to be freed from their vehicle with the Jaws of Life by the L.A.F.D. The crash which took place around 2:25p.m.Tuse. 9/30/15 at the intersection of 54th street & Crenshaw blvd in the Angeles Mesa area near Leimert Park of South L.A. The driver of the gray Cadillac was uninjured and the driver of the van and driver and passenger of the Lincoln are reported to be in critical condition per NBC News. The investigation was reported as still on going to determine why the van was traveling the wrong way.
While in my back yard helping my handyman with some work he was doing I heard a lot of cars blowing their horns right before the crash but when my air compressor came on little did I know that was the moment of impact. The driver of a white Ford van going north on the south bound side of Crenshaw Blvd. struck 2 cars with the Lincoln and it’s occupants receiving the brunt of the force from the collision. The couple that were in the Lincoln had to be freed from their vehicle with the Jaws of Life by the L.A.F.D. The crash which took place around 2:25p.m.Tuse. 9/30/15 at the intersection of 54th street & Crenshaw blvd in the Angeles Mesa area near Leimert Park of South L.A. The driver of the gray Cadillac was uninjured and the driver of the van and driver and passenger of the Lincoln are reported to be in critical condition per NBC News. The investigation was reported as still on going to determine why the van was traveling the wrong way.
Demolition after Implosion to weaken the structure for final tear down. If you gotta see your ponies race you still have Del Mar and Santa Anita race tracks to go see them run. Now that this demolition is taking place people are hopeful that we'll get a NFL team coming back to the L. A. area. Hmmm foot ball, golf, tennis, baseball.... sorry I rather watch grass grow, what we need is a drag strip, a motocross park, monster truck stadium a low rider park and show car arena all rolled into one.
Edmund Lincoln "Eddie" Anderson (1905 – 1977), aka Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, was a Black American comedian and actor.
Anderson got his start in show business In the early 1930s. In '37, he began his most famous role as Rochester van Jones, usually just "Rochester", as the valet of Jack Benny, on his radio show & later TV show The Jack Benny Program also appeared in in movies and other TV shows.
His home in the West Adams district of Los Angeles was one of the few places in L.A. where he could have a home built because even L. A. black entertainers were not welcome in white neighborhoods due to restrictive covenants. He called on Black American architect, Paul R. Williams to designed his new massive home that sat in an area surrounded by smaller, bungalow-style homes. He also had a pool so the neighbors and their kids could play and swim in the pool. The home is currently a Bed & Breakfast.
Destination Crenshaw
Crenshaw Center shops and anchor stores like Broadway Dept store, May Co., Woolworth and many retail stores opened in November 1947. Then in 1988 got a major remodel including a pedestrian walk way that connected the Broadway with the May Co. Dept. stores that crossed over Martin Luther King Blyd. (formerly Santa Barbara Blvd.)
Currently closed/ simi open new stores retail businesses on hold due to Covid-19.
Any comments on pass history, progress and updates welcome.
While in my back yard helping my handyman with some work he was doing I heard a lot of cars blowing their horns right before the crash but when my air compressor came on little did I know that was the moment of impact. The driver of a white Ford van going north on the south bound side of Crenshaw Blvd. struck 2 cars with the Lincoln and it’s occupants receiving the brunt of the force from the collision. The couple that were in the Lincoln had to be freed from their vehicle with the Jaws of Life by the L.A.F.D. The crash which took place around 2:25p.m.Tuse. 9/30/15 at the intersection of 54th street & Crenshaw blvd in the Angeles Mesa area near Leimert Park of South L.A. The driver of the gray Cadillac was uninjured and the driver of the van and driver and passenger of the Lincoln are reported to be in critical condition per NBC News. The investigation was reported as still on going to determine why the van was traveling the wrong way.
Street rod belongs to guy(Charlie Brown) associated with the tow company at scene of the accident to tow away the carnage.
The word is someone has a deathwish and shot at a patroling L. A. County Sheriff's car off of Crenshaw on some side street. Don't know the rest of the story. LAPD & L.A. Unified School Dist. Police gave back up.
Edmund Lincoln "Eddie" Anderson (1905 – 1977), aka Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, was a Black American comedian and actor.
Anderson got his start in show business In the early 1930s. In '37, he began his most famous role as Rochester van Jones, usually just "Rochester", as the valet of Jack Benny, on his radio show & later TV show The Jack Benny Program also appeared in in movies and other TV shows.
His home in the West Adams district of Los Angeles was one of the few places in L.A. where he could have a home built because even L. A. black entertainers were not welcome in white neighborhoods due to restrictive covenants. He called on Black American architect, Paul R. Williams to designed his new massive home that sat in an area surrounded by smaller, bungalow-style homes. He also had a pool so the neighbors and their kids could play and swim in the pool. The home is currently a Bed & Breakfast.
Burden had Metropolis II's cars specially manufactured in China to his custom specifications — unlike Metropolis I, which just used off-the-shelf Hot Wheels toys. "The original toy cars have very thin axles that wear out too fast," says Burden. Given that Metropolis II is supposed to run three days a week for the next 10 years, how will it avoid the "wearing out" problem? Burden's no-nonsense answer: "We made a lot of cars."
www.fastcodesign.com/1664409/how-chris-burden-created-met...
Edmund Lincoln "Eddie" Anderson (1905 – 1977), aka Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, was a Black American comedian and actor.
Anderson got his start in show business In the early 1930s. In '37, he began his most famous role as Rochester van Jones, usually just "Rochester", as the valet of Jack Benny, on his radio show & later TV show The Jack Benny Program also appeared in in movies and other TV shows.
His home in the West Adams district of Los Angeles was one of the few places in L.A. where he could have a home built because even L. A. black entertainers were not welcome in white neighborhoods due to restrictive covenants. He called on Black American architect, Paul R. Williams to designed his new massive home that sat in an area surrounded by smaller, bungalow-style homes. He also had a pool so the neighbors and their kids could play and swim in the pool. The home is currently a Bed & Breakfast.
"We want to be free... Free to ride our machines without being hassled by the man!" It started out with old classics and lowriders and Harleys converging on the bridge and a car show broke out. Then some knuckle head brought unnecessary attention to the whole thing by lighting a smoke canister / bomb. From the distance I guess it looked as if some one was doing a burn out. The L.A.P.D. comes and breaks up the show. But as the photos prove the SHOW still went on.... UNDER THE BRIDGE.
Wishing on a Star is a Eco-kinetic solar sculpture created by Charles Dickson out of his Compton art studio. He was my art teacher back in the day when I was a teen attending his classes in Watts and Compton. This beautiful work is made with many discarded items from engine and automotive suspension parts to rebar and computer and kitchen utensils and other scrap metal and glass.