Inside the Book: Eighty Fists of Death by Bridget Chase, Kindle eBook
Well, like most stories; this one starts at the beginning.
Jessica Biel is kidnapped. Van Damme’s granny, Granny Damme, can’t stand by while such a sweet girl is in the hands of a madman; and this madman happens to be Steven Seagal, who is the worst kind of madman. Justin Timberlake teams up with Granny Damme, and her cat Kurt Wussels to find Jessica and free her. Steven has other hostages, who he plans to kill while vacationing aboard a cruise ship. Oh, and he loves raptors. I can’t tell you what happens; but yeah, that is like a mini spoiler or something.
So read or don’t; laugh or don’t; be happy or don’t.
I got more shit to write; see ya!
Sample:
Jessica Biel
“Jessica Biel’s been kidnapped! Sweet Jesus. Jean Claude! Jean Claude!”
Jean Claude climbed out from under the upstairs sink. “What you want Granny?” he shouted.
His old grandma shouted at him from downstairs. “Jessica Biel’s been kidnapped. Once you’re done fixin’ that sink, I think we should go do something. She’s such a sweet girl, don’t ya’ think?”
Jean Claude put down his wrench. He got up and went to the top of the stairs. His granny looked up to him from the first floor.
She was old, like eighty, with a purple sundress, big ‘ol thick glasses, knobby legs, drooping cheeks and hair like Van Damme in ‘Time Cop’, except white. Well, really, she looked a lot like Van Damme if he were eighty, wearing a dress, and had lipstick smearing a wide ring around his lips.
“We can’t do anything Granny; best to leave it to the police,” he said.
“Those police won’t do nothing, shee-it. Did I raise a Jean Claude, or did I raise a Van Damme?”
“Grandma, that doesn’t make any sense.” He gripped the banister railing. Shit, what does she think we can do?
Granny Damme started to cry. “It’s Jessica Biel, she’s beautiful, lovely, such a sweetheart, and in the hands of a madman.”
“How do you know it’s a madman?”
“Because of this!” Granny Damme whipped out a newspaper from behind her back.
“I can’t see it,” Jean Claude said, “I’m coming down.” FLIP! He somersaulted the banister and fell a story to the ground “Umph!” Jean Claude took the paper from her.
The headline read: Jessica Biel, God’s reason for creating the world, has been kidnapped.
There was also a picture of the suspect.
“STEVEN SEAGAL!” ROAR! Van Damme crushed the newspaper into a little ball in his hands. “That fucker!” he tossed the wad and, SPIN! THWAK! Spin kicked the crumpled paper. It went flying into the kitchen and landed in a pile of other wadded up newspapers.
“Hey, I wasn’t done reading that” Granny Damme said.
“I’m done with these ridiculous stories involving Steven Seagal. Just let the police handle it.”
Granny Damme sighed, “Oh, Jessica; you poor beautiful thang.”
Jean Claude climbed the stairs. “I’m gonna’ finish fixing your sink and then we can have a nice lunch.”
“Grilled cheese?”
“Sure, grilled cheese. Now please, forget about this nonsense.”
“I can never forget Jessica Biel, never. She’s such a sweet girl,” she said under her breath.
Granny Damme went to the coat closet. She opened the door buried herself inside and rummaged the top shelf. “There they are.”
She pulled down a shoe box.
Granny Damme cradles the shoebox in her hands and went to the living room. She sat down on the plastic covered couch and placed the box in her lap.
She opened the lid.
A pair of worn out sneakers were inside.
“It’s been a long time, fellas; but looks like I need my ass kicking shoes, again.”
Oh That Ponytail
“Dance with me.”
“This is weird,” Jessica Biel said. She was tied to a chair.
Steven Seagal held her ponytail in his arms. “I thought I lost you forever, my love.” He rubbed the hair against his cheek. “How did you wind up on her head of all people? Oh, it doesn’t matter I’m just glad to have you back. You’re so pretty… yes, you are…,”
The hair said nothing.
“Seriously, just let me go. I won’t press charges,” Jessica said.
“Hush, I’m trying to enjoy this reunion. It might not be important to you; but I’ve waited decades to find my ponytail again.”
“Ouch!” Jessica’s head was yanked.
Steven hugged her ponytail too his chest and swayed like it was a lover.
“Now that I found you, I’ll never let you go. We can be together forever!”
Steven imagined his ponytail in a white gown. Oh. wouldn’t it be grand.
How great it would be giving his vows to his pony tail and then slipping a ring onto the strands of hair.
Forever…
“Ouch, easy,” Jessica said. “Just cut it off and let me go. It will grow back. You can have it.”
Steven dropped the gathered hair. “Cut it off? Are you crazy? My ponytail is a living thing. No, we’ll just have to figure out how to manage this relationship. I’m thinking I’ll have you put into a medically induced coma.”
“A what?” Jessica’s eyes went wide. “You can’t!”
Steven picked back up the hair. He petted it. “We’ll see. Either way, it would be best for you to be unconscious when I take my ponytail to bed tonight. Old Steven’s getting horny, baby!” He smiled cheerfully.
Jessica peered over her shoulder.
Below Steven’s hefty gut was a tent pitched in his pants. It pushed out on his oriental robe thing.
Yuck!
The bloated actions star swayed. “Hey, Short Round, why don’t you go ahead and buy us tickets for a cruise this week. It’s time to vacation with my love-,” He kissed the ponytail. “-And kill the things I hate.”
Steven glared over at his captives.
Bruce Willis, Dwayne Johnson and Sinead ‘O Connor were tied and gagged and lay in a pile together in the corner. They smelled of piss and shit.
Those bastards! Killers of magical ponytails. Yes, they will die at the bottom of the ocean!
“Sure tang Mr. Jones… I mean Mr. Sa’gal,” Short Round said- the Asian kid from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. He swiveled around in his office chair- cheap office chair- and typed on the computer. Oh, I hope he w’ewease me after this ow’er. He not fun to work fow as Mr. Jones. Nope, Mr. Jones nevew make me scwub back or ass.
“Soon, my life will be complete,” Steven said, “Oh, and Short Round. Find out how to induce a coma with drugs, would ya?”
“Sure tang Mr. Sa’gal!
Jessica hung her head.
“No you’re the cutie,” Steven said to the hair, “No you are!” He tickled the hair with a fat finger.
Craigslist
Granny Damme listed an ad in the personals section on Craigslist.
Woman seeking man.
The ad stated that she was in need on a new grandson. One that would help in retrieving Jessica Biel from the arms of a madman.
Adventurous type, a must.
Granny Damme pushed her glasses upper her nose and waited.
Refresh…
Refresh…
Refresh…
She was impatient to get an email response.
I hope it will be someone strong and manly.
DING DONG!
Why, who could that be?
Granny Damme got up from her pink chair.
Oh, how lovely to have a visitor.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Impatient assholes aren’t they?” she asked her cat Kurt Wussels.
She shambled to the door.
“Oh, dear me, Justin Timberlake?”
“Yes ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you; did you by chance hear the news?”
“Oh, yes I did.”
Granny Damme wiped the front of her sundress trying to make herself more presentable.
“Your wife has been kidnapped.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tears built in his eyes. Justin started sobbing with a hand covering his mouth.
“Oh, there, there.” She patted his back.
Justin cried hard. He was bent over with hands on his knees.
Granny Damme asked, “So, what can i do for you?”
BING! He stood up, nose and eyes dry. “Why yes, I was hoping to enlist the help of your grandson; I need Van Damme’s services in ass kickery. I went by his mom’s house and she said that he was here, fixing your sink.”
“Oh, you met my daughter. Isn’t she just a peach?”
“No, ma’am, she was a woman, but very sweet indeed. Anyways-,” Justin leaned in and tried to look inside, “Is Van Damme here?”
“Oh, yes come on in.” Granny Dame stepped aside.
-Long story short…
“Yep, too bad Van Damme wouldn’t help but between he three of us, I think we can save Jessica,” Justin said. He sat in the passenger seat.
“Oh, we’ll save her. Hell, every mish I’ve had with Kurt Wussels turns out okay.”
Granny Damme steered the vehicle. “It’s pretty cool you have the Thunder Cats vehicle.”
The vehicle was a steel number with a cat face, open cockpit, and huge paws coming off the front. Its tank-treads tore up the freeway and its body consumed several lanes.
Cars swerve and crashed. People screamed and swerved their vehicles. Smoke and fire littered the freeway behind them.
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