Flash Fiction


THE BATTLE OF 87: EL MAGNIFICO CERDO VS. BAZOOKA TWO-ARMS by Steven Diggs Jr.

El Cerdo Magnifico ate another bite of the hot dog from its holster. Cerdo is pig in Spanish and magnifico is magnificent, and he was the worst superhero ever to have ever been born. His arch nemesis was Bazooka Two Arms, the most feared villain in the world if he could ever get enough time to charge his bazookas up to full capacity. This time they met in the wastelands of Mexico City, since the city had been destroyed in the preceding battle, The War of ’87.

“I got you this time, you fat piece of trash,” Bazooka says to his fat counterpart.

As he pointed his arm around the devastated city, Cerdo said, “I’m on home turf. I’m not gonna lose.”

“There’s no one here. What’s the difference if you have ‘home-field’ advantage,” Bazooka said as he looked up at the top of an empty skyscraper that looked to have been the home to many Mexican residents before The War. Bazooka bowed his head down to his right bazooka arm. He pressed the ridiculously huge button to start charging his bazooka arm. The button looked to be straight out of a bad James Bond rip-off, clearly marked: ‘Charge-up’. Bazooka then charged up his left arm as well.

“I-I can certainly beat y-you before they go off,” Cerdo said as he stuffed a creampuff into his mouth.

“I can’t hear you. Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Bazooka said.

“I-I said, I ccaan certaainllee beeat yyouu,” Cerdo said with the creampuff completely in his mouth. Cerdo then planted his thick tree trunk-like left foot behind his right. Cerdo’s legs viciously dashed forward…for about three seconds.

“You’re never gonna catch me, you fat fuck,” Bazooka said to Cerdo. “You eat way too much.”

Out of breath, Cerdo said, “B-but that’s m-my s-super ability.”

“Yeah, well, I think you should find a new ability then. Two minutes before the bazookas go off. No way you’re gonna be able to run the one hundred feet to catch me,” Bazooka said as a small digital clock came out of each of the bazookas and started counting down the time.

Cerdo then tried to run again. He wasn’t going anywhere. Cerdo reached around to his back pocket and pulled out an energy bar.

“Oh no, not the Super Ultimate Explosion Energy Bar!” Bazooka said as Cerdo held up the bar in front of his body.

“And now, I’ll defeat you,” Cerdo said in the most pathetic Superman voice ever heard outside of the Thundercats cartoon. Cerdo pulled back the wrapper of the bar which had his pink, round nose and pointy-eared mask on it. Cerdo started engulfing the bar as if he hadn’t eaten in days…or in his case, for three minutes. Cerdo’s body started shaking and suddenly his feet started picking up a lot of speed. The gap between Cerdo and Bazooka started to dwindle very fast.

“Ahhhhh!” Bazooka screamed as Cerdo was coming full steam ahead at him. Suddenly, a rumble which shook the whole area began. A parking garage already weakened by The War fell to the ground leaving only the two human structures standing in all of Mexico City.

“My God! My stomach. I ate too much,” Cerdo said hunched over, grabbing his stomach.

“Three…Two…One,” Bazooka said as the clocks counted down to infinite doom. “You’re dead now, Lardy.” A light emanated from the bazooka. Cerdo, still hunched over in pain, slightly moved his hand into his right-front shirt pocket. His hand slid out with a Strawberry frosted Pop-Tart. Cerdo, rushed by the intensity of the light becoming stronger, hastily cracked the Pop-Tart in two and threw it at Bazooka.

The Pop-Tart pieces flew through the air and went inside each of Bazooka’s two arms…well, bazookas. The Pop-Tarts covered the bazookas’ chambers. The bazookas exploded into the chamber, which sent Cerdo and Bazooka on their backs about three hundred feet away from each other. Small parts of Pop-Tarts were floating down from the sky. A massive chunk of Pop-Tart landed on a TV beside Cerdo. Cerdo, who looked like a turtle on its back, rolled from side to side until he could pick himself up. He walked over to the Pop-Tart on the TV and grabbed it with his pudgy fingers.

“Hmm…Toasted, kinda like Bazooka.”

By Steven Diggs Jr., copyright 2008. All rights reserved.





Flash Fiction