Dr. Frankencaster

“Freeze!” yelled a rookie police officer pointing his gun at the man who was carefully removing a painting for the wall of the museum. The man carefully set the painting on the wooden cart with the others. Then with a sigh he lifted his hands showing they were empty. “Good now on the floor….GAH!” screamed the cop as a dagger pierced his shoulder through his vest. He fell back as another officer grabbed him and pulled him around the corner.

The second officer screamed into her radio, “Officer down! We need assistance!”

The first officer looked at the knife sticking out of his shoulder, “Is that wood?” he asked in shock.

“Of course, it’s wood you idiot, do you think they call him the carpenter because of his suit?” she snapped at him.

“But his suit IS made of wood?” he replied confused.

“That’s because he can make anything out of wood!” snapped the more experienced officer to the rookie at her feet. “Repeat we have an officer down, does anyone copy? Send assistance!”

“Why don’t we just get some flamethrowers or something and turn that wood to ash?” asked the rookie.

Before his partner could scold him, a voice said, “Because some of those paintings are worth millions, so cool your jets hot shot and let a professional show you how it’s done.” The woman who spoke was wearing a long pink sequined lab coat, dark glasses, and an electric guitar of some sort on her back. “You mind if I try and talk to him?” asked as she lowered her sunglasses with one hand. She raised an eyebrow revealing the irises of her eyes which seemed to shift slowly in colour like a kaleidoscope.

The rookie sat with a look of awe as his partner said, “Dr. Frankencaster, we’re so glad you could offer assistance.”

She grinned and ran a hand through her short purple hair and continued it back to grab her guitar which she swung around and began to tune the various knobs and switches. “Well let’s see if I know any songs he likes?” she stepped around the corner and into the museum. Then with a silver pick in hand she began to expertly play a little riff on the tightly packed twenty strings that made up the three necks of the guitar all which converged to just above a strange speaker at the base of the guitar.

The music thundered through the large room, shaking the glass in the windows and skylight overhead. The carpenter’s hands shot up to protect his ears, his suit growing small branches and leaves as he lost concentration. The music from her guitar seemed to slowly become clearer as she played until the whole building seemed to hum melodically. The Carpenter slowly lowered his hands and got to his feet sneering at his new opponent as he fixed his wooden suit. She simply ignored him as her fingers flew over the various guitar necks adjusting her music note by not to match the acoustics of the room.

Finally, she stopped and shook her hand, “Woo! Sorry that took longer than I thought.”

The Carpenter smiled sarcastically and raised his hands in a shrug, “Oh no, it’s quite alright, but if you’re quite finished I guess I’ll just go back to robbing this establishment of it’s priceless works of art.”

Dr. Frankencaster smacked her forehead, “Right, sorry about that, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to stop and go to jail.” He simply raised an eyebrow as he stared at her. She stared back then shrugged, “Well I guess you can go to hell too, but I figured the jail had more comfortable beds.”

The Carpenter actually spat out a chuckle at that and said, “Well this has been thrilling but I’ve got work to do so you can die now.” He raised and arm and fired a wooden spear at her from sleeve. Not missing a beat, she quickly strummed three cords and the spear wobbled and impacted into the doorframe above her head.

“What the?” he said and proceeded to throw various projectiles at her some heading straight others curving around to come at an angle. Unfortunately, she simply played another tune and sent them all off course, each one falling farther away than the first.

“Alright that’s two, one more shot and then it’s my turn,” she grinned malevolent.

This time the carpenter removed his jacket and with a shake turned it into some kind of spring loaded launcher. “I normally find it rude to disembowel my enemies but since you’re so insistent…” he fired at nearby pillar to demonstrate, a spinning wooden blade embedded over a foot into the marble, “… then I guess I have no choice.” He charged forward and fired as fast as he could and leaped to fire at a downward angle.

It would have been an impressive and gory finish except Dr. Frankencaster simply began to play a melody as soon as he took his first step. Again the blades seemed to catch in the air then fall to the ground as she played until the music suddenly stopped. For a moment everything went pin-drop silent, but her fingers were still flying over the strings in a blur. Then just as quickly as it had disappeared the sound came back with a vengeance. The wooden blades, the Carpenter’s gun, and his suit all exploded in a cloud of saw dust.

“What… the…. hell?…” the Carpenter coughed on the ground defeated in front of his sequined opponent. “How… did… you…” he wheezed through the dust. Meanwhile, the cavalry had arrived and officers poured into the room, cuffing the would-be thief in his underwear.

“Sonochemistry” she replied with a sympathetic smile, “I mapped the room with my song when I came in and got the resonant frequencies of your wood from your projectiles. Then it was a simple calculation to use what I’d learned, and a bit of sonolysis, to but a careful end to the fight without permanently injuring you.” The Carpenter starred in shock as he coughed softly. “It worked much better than the first time I tried that trick, poor guy didn’t give me enough time and ended up removed from the gene pool.”

“You killed him?” the Carpenter asked hoarsely, with shocked confuse looks from a few of the officers.

Dr. Frankencaster simply laughed, “No of course not! He runs one of the best Mexican food trucks in the city now that he’s out on parole.”

“Oh… well how was he removed from the…” one of the officers began to ask before realization struck him and they quickly shuffled the Carpenter out the door.

“Thank you, Dr. Frankencaster you really helped us out.” said the injured officer standing next to his partner. He held out a hand for her to shake.

She simply swung her guitar onto her back and said, “My pleasure, let me know if you need a hand again.” and with a smile and a wave she turned and headed towards the door.

“Kind of rude, isn’t she?” the injured man said.

“Just shut up and watch you idiot.” replied his partner shaking her head.

As she got to the sidewalk she unclipped a small pole from her belt and extended it into a long white rod, which she then used to tap her way safely into the night.

 

 

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