AudioShocker

In the comments for the most recent Project Basement, Kaylie and Pete suggested some Over the Top fan fiction starring the Punisher (inspired by Katie's Punisher vs. Marv drawing, of course).

Feeling inspired myself, I decided to write it. And seeing as how Pete published his brother's incredible fanfic (pt1 and pt2) earlier this year in Culturology, I figured this is as good a place as any to post it.

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I never dreamed I'd become a major competitor, let alone make it to the top. But here I am, in Las Vegas, with stakes out the ass and money riding on my every move.

Will I trip on some errant urine in the men's room? Will I give some guy the wrong look and get my face punched in before the final round? Who knows.

But what I do know is this -- I'm Frank Castle and I'm the underdog contender for the 2010 World Arm Wrestling Championship.

The Punisher in... OVER THE TOP 2

My room is nice. They're paying for me to stay in that one hotel that looks like a pyramid. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of all the crime going on right under my nose -- brothels, card counting, dining and ditching. But that's the name of the game here in Vegas. And I've got bigger fish to fry.

Once I win the 2010 World Arm Wrestling Championship, I'll be in the inner circle. I can trace the bookies and bets all the way back to the top and find the guy that funded the drugs that my wife and kids used to shoot up uncontrollably for 24 hours a day for two years straight.

They told me they wanted to stop, damn it!!! They told me they would quit!!! But everyday I'd see them with those fucking needles in their arms and that black tar heroin smeared all over their lips. FUCK!!!

Anyway, back to the arm wrestling. See, I saw this movie called Over the Top a few years ago. It's a Stalone flick. You ever see it? It rules. Point is, it's fucking Stalone fucking arm wrestling and kicking ass. You ever see Rambo? That was awesome too.

So I decided I wanted to take it over the top. Yeah, I know my kid wasn't kidnapped or anything, but screw it. I have this grudge about my dead family and I hate criminals and I've got this fake ID with the name Moose Bullworth on it, so I figured why not give it a shot, right?

And now it's time for me to get ready for the final match.

----

Two hours of meditation followed by five minutes of masturbation and I'm ready to go. I ate a Hungry-Man TV dinner and I feel like a million bucks. I'm gonna take it OVER THE TOP tonight!

I step out onto the stage and the crowd goes nuts. They love my stylized skull t-shirt and my rugged good looks. They're clapping and yelling "DEAD MAN! DEAD MAN!" as I walk out, trying to intimidate my competitor before he even sets foot on the stage. This is amazing.

Then my opponent comes out of the shadows and I'm shocked. The audience wasn't yelling for me... they were yelling AT me! She's a 7' tall amazonian piece of she-meat, green from head-to-toe and wearing a purple bathing suit. What in the shit is going on???

Her name tag says "Jennifer" on it. This can't be right -- I never signed up to get my arm crushed by a roid-freak goddess parading around in her underwear! I wanted to feel the sweaty sting of man moisture on my palms as I slammed his hand against the mini-mat. THIS WASN'T PART OF THE DEAL!!!

Whatever. It doesn't matter. I can still win. I'm the goddamn Punisher and I'm gonna punish her.

----

She gets her elbow lined up and ready to rock. PSSSHH. Amateur. I've been ready for two minutes.

I'm ready to fight, ready to win. I'm gonna win.

I grip her hand hard and show her what I'm made of. Damn, she's got big fingers. Like thick little green sausages. I could eat one of them right now, I'm so fucking hungry to win. I'd just bite it off and suck the goopy irradiated green blood out of it like the cream filling in a Twinkie. FUCK.

The ref shouts "START!" and we push our hands together, our arms bristling with the exhilaration of competition. The audience cheers us on. Actually, no. They just cheer her on. But what do I fucking care? I'm the Punisher, damn it.

I fight hard. Real hard. But things are looking down. She's stronger than me and she's got more energy. But I'm ready... ready to take it OVER TH--

WHAT!?! What's she doing??? NOOO!!!! That's my move! She's realigning her fingers, starting out with the index finger and slowly rewrapping her grip over top of my hand. SHE'S TAKING IT OVER THE TOP!!!

How could this happen to me? Did she see that movie too? C'mon! NO ONE SAW THAT FUCKING MOVIE! It's my favorite movie, not hers! I'm out to kill the heroin-daddy that slaughtered my family with his addictive smack! I'm ready to kill in the name of American freedom! This can't be happening to me!!!

I feel a pop in my right elbow. It's sort of liberating, really. I can give up now. My bone begins to tear through the skin as I start to black out. There's blood oozing onto the floor and the crowd is going nuts. She says "Eat it, dickwad!!! I just took it over the top!" right before I hit the ground.

----

I wake up to see her standing over me, the crowd silent now. She tore off my skull t-shirt and wrapped it around my arm to slow the bleeding.

"Frank Castle, you're under arrest," she says. "You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of--"

"FUCK YOU," I tell her as I spit in her face.

"You wish," she says with a smile and a wink.

Oh well... I gave it my best shot. I tried to take it over the top. It just didn't work out. I'm gonna go to jail for murdering thousands of evil slime trash deadbeat hustler criminals and cleaning up the streets of New York. I make it safe for these ants to live their meaningless stupid little lives and what thanks do they show me? They wanna lock me up and throw away the key. What a fucked up world.