Radioactive

OK, so there is this song by Imagine Dragons called Radioactive, you may have heard it. according to the music video it's about Lou Diamond Phillips pit fighting Stuffed Animals. I submit to you that this is wrong, it is the opening to a great comic book, one where a super villain from the past returns to lead a revolution against the "utopia" created by his old Hero nemesis.

Say there is a super villain named ... something dumb, like Isotope. and he is powered by a radioactive core, this core gives him power to shoot energy blasts, but also to power different devices added to his combat armor, like rocket boots, or sonic blasters, making him as dangerous as what ever piece of tech he can steal.
now the hero is a real piece of work, a guy named something equally as dumb, like Omega Man.

Omega Man is loved by all the Earth, and is the defender of  Truth and Freedom and all that. but is real life he is kind of a jerk, and loves whopping up on the bad guys. sometimes he will let them beat up on him in public, so he is justified in giving them a extra long smack down. he verbally abuses them when no one is around to hear him, and he has been known to use threats to keep cretin people in line. but he works the media and people love him.

Omega Man has had a wonderful career starting as Omega Lad, then Boy, then Omega Guy when he was in collage, and finally Man. he was pondering becoming Captain Omega when he became aware that there was a decline in good super villainy. he was basically down to two heavy hitters, Isotope and Master Invader. Master Invader comes from space and you never know when he was going to show up, so Omega Man decided that Isotope could not make it to prison ever again until someone new came along. after a few years Isotope began to suspect something, and looked into it.

Omega Man was indeed the reason for many of his escapes. what Omega Man never knew is that Isotope had stopped working alone a long time before. he had paired himself with another super villain who was no longer able to fight. Viral was a cyber villain who had lost corporeal form in a battle with Omega Man, now he lived in computer systems and gave tech support to other villains. Viral had been tracking the oddities in Omega Man and had found that he had lined up a way each time Isotope fought him to let him escape.

Isotope had of course been enjoying being the big baddie on the block for a few years, but this news robbed him of any joy. together the derived a plan to get all the other villains free and make Omega Man look like a smuck. on their latest fight Isotope takes a beating and then instead of escape, surrenders, publicly to Omega Man. Omega Man is forced to accept the surrender with the world watching. Isotope is tried and convicted in a world court and sent to the hidden super villain prison of Alpha 12. his core is powered down just to the point to keep him alive, about the radioactive level of a cell phone. and he is loaded into a van made special for him. it is a lead armored car. and though the car can keep radioactivity out, it can not block the tracker that viral had on Isotope. he tracks the signal as it takes him to the hidden prison where he is supposed to launch a rocket attack and get Isotope and all the other villains out. but Viral is a villain in his own right and has decided to launch a nuclear missile instead of regular ones. see he has built a new techno body for himself and is ready to take his place as top villain.

This is how it goes down, nuke launched as lead van approaches prison, omega Man swoops into stop is, but is conflicted, isn't this what he wanted, an escape. he hesitates and stops the missile too late and it explodes just above the prison. this throws the lead van tumbling off the road and berried in debris, and the prison exposed, villains poring out of it. Omega Man is missing, Nukes hurt after all, and a worried world decides he has fallen and worried about a gang of super villains sweeping the country side decide that since a nuke has already hit that area, another one should be OK. so 12 hours later they hit the prison again. 85 % of the villains are killed. the other 15% had already escaped or were nuclear powered already. this starts the Radiation Wars, a decade long struggle between the remaining heroes and the now over powered radiated villains. the war leaves most of the world irradiated and ravished, while the most people live in walled off city states that claim to be open Utopias.

Isotope remains in his prison Van, blocked off from the world, basically shutdown, until some scavengers pick up his tracking signal he left for Viral, 80 years later. there is a new race of humanity, known as scavengers or Radio Heads. they have adapted to live with a cretin amount of background radiation and can live in fallout areas. they scavenge the areas looking for useful items. and as the dig out the prison van and crack it's lead seal radiation floods in. radiation enough to jump start Isotopes core.

this is where the song takes place, as he starts back up and gets his first glimpse of the new world.

he learns of the Radiation Wars and how they were won. it turns out that Omega Man was a bit of a flirt and had had children all across the planet. he had left messages for them when their powers manifested and called them all to be super heroes. it wasn't until the Omega Brood started showing up that the villains lost the war. now they have divided up the world and each look over a different city state. and they decided who gets in and who lives in the wastelands.

Isotope is the worlds only remaining super villain in a world ruled over by the children of his Nemesis. A world unfairly ruled. he picks up the mantle of the Scavengers and speaks to them of revolution, and starts his march to the nearest city state.

 All that is in the song, you just don't hear it, I do.

Work Work Work

So I have worked the last 8 Days and will work the next 4 if nothing changes. Today I worked an 11 hour shift, and I still loved it. in fact I hated it until hour 7 or so. that was when everyone finally got out of my way and I got to Produce. the company I work for is having a conference and inspection type thing and all the CEOs and Executive Chefs and what nots are around  there are like 7 extra chefs in our kitchen, not cooks but full fledged chefs. and yet stuff flounders. it isn't until they leave that real work seems to get done, at lest for me. It may be true what they say about too many chefs.

so tonight instead of being home at 3, slow cooking some chicken into a favorite dish of mine, and enjoying a peacefull afternoon, I worked. No favorite meal, just ordered Pizza. I think my wife is home so I'm going to stop typing.

Lack of Spatulas

Let me comment on the Lack of Spatulas in my last post. I work in a very nice professional Culinary setting. In such settings their are some universal truths, White Spatulas are for mixing, Red Spatulas are Heat Resistant and are for cooking. Everyone everywhere knows this. Yet all the cooks use the white ones for cooking and Destroy them. so then there are a finite number of red spatulas left. and since everyone uses one for every recipe they make there is often not enough spatulas. The Dish Washers are often times bombarded with Spatula Requests, or cooks going through sorted piles of dishes looking for spatulas.

I feel that in every Profession and in every walk of life there are Spatulas, and a shocking Lack of Spatulas. Maybe Time is your Spatula, or Pencils. Maybe there isn't enough staplers in your office, or maybe like me it is actual Spatulas. Don't let the Lack of Spatulas hold you back, do what I do. Put on Gloves and mix things with your hands. Gets the job done and makes you look cool.

P.S. - When I say Spatula I'm talking about Rubber ones, not those crappy Flippy ones for the Grill. We got way to many of those, and they don't mix worth a darn. Trust me.

10 Hour Shift

Today I worked a 10 hour Shift, two hours over my normal. here is the weird thing, I loved it. I love my Job and I like being there. the work is gratifying and you see the results instantly. This kitchen is the nicest I have ever seen and although there are a few bumps, say with one or two people or lack of spatulas, it still rocks. I don't really feel tired there until i get on the shuttle to come home. the whole time I am on my feet running and cooking. But when I come home all I feel I do is complain about it. Weird.

Up Date

So a lot has happened since the last time I blogged, I have moved a few times, got a few jobs, and found a Wife (She was hiding, but I'm tall, I can see over things.). I work now as a baker at a wonderful hospital, and spend much of my time looking over recipes. Also my hair keeps getting wavy  which keeps me cutting it shorter and shorter. I think I might start this Blog up again, so keep an eye out.

Cross County 3

James paced outside the court room. Sheriff Charles Marcus slipped quietly through the door and passed to the waiting James. Marcus was a small man with a round head with perfectly parted white hair atop it. He wore his green sheriff’s uniform every day and it never seemed to wrinkle. The worried look he wore did not suit him, and he spoke in a quick light voice.

“Well you better tell me what’s going on.”

“Some one called in a dead body at the Primo Italian Restaurant off of the highway. Deputies Keen and Kern arrived and verified, they are sealing off the scene now. Coroner is on the way.”

“Then why aren’t you?” the sheriff looked a little put out.

“I wanted to get deputy Moss; he needs to learn how to handle a dead body.” James lied a little, moss could have joined him later, but James wanted something else from the sheriff.

“Are you sure you weren’t looking for this?” Sheriff Marcus held up a crinkled copy of the New York Times, and James sighed at seeing it. “It’s still there you know, 25 weeks on the best sellers list. One more week and you are obligated to do a book tour for your publisher.” The sheriff laughed a little at this.

“Not so loud.” James glanced around to make sure no one heard.

“If you didn’t want anyone to know you shouldn’t have written it,” The sheriff giggled a little as he tossed the paper over to James, “Or picked a better pen name. Or not have written about people you know. You know my wife has 3 copies at the library, can’t keep them checked in. what do you think would happen if she found out you wrote it?” James was fuming now. “One more week on the best sellers list and it will be out of your hands. Now get going, I’ll send moss just as soon as he is finished testifying.” Just then the doors to the court room opened and a handful of people came wandering out. At the back was a large African American male, 6 foot 3 inches, 220 pounds, all muscle, and no hair. Deputy David Moss was a very determined looking 24 year old, and he was the only candidate in the sheriff’s department looking to become an investigator. The sheriff waved him over. “Just in time Moss, we got a dead body called in, James here is going to take you over and show you how it’s done.”

Moss nodded and let out a “yes sir,” while the sheriff patted him on the arm and walked away.

“Well David,” James had a bad habit of using peoples first name, and he knew it annoyed Moss, “why don’t you drive with me and I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Primo Italian Restaurant is located just off of Highway 128 about 3 miles west of the county line. It was the only fine dinning restaurant within a 60 mile radius. It is located in an old mansion home which sits on a plot of land surrounded by 100 year old live oaks, about a ¼ mile back from the highway. The owners, who had opened the place about 7 years ago, had turned a draft old home into a beautiful eatery with gardens, valet parking, and a zagot star. People had been known to drive all the way from Jacksonville and even Tampa to eat there. James had not, he had been teaching in Gainesville when it had opened, and upon returning home 10 months ago, had never found the occasion to dress up and rub elbows with the other side, as he thought of them.

When they pulled up to the restaurant there were a handful of official vehicles waiting for them. Deputies had arrived to help Keen and Kern rope off the scene and round up employees as they showed up for work. As James got out of his Jeep, Deputy Jack Keen, a stocky balding man in his 30s came tromping up. He had a pocket notebook in his hands and was flipping pages finding the beginning of his notes since arriving on the scene.

“What do you got Jack?” James asked as he pulled a crime scene kit from his back seat.

“The dead body is the owner sir, Mark Phillips; he was also the chef here. He was found in the kitchen around 9:30 when the gardener noticed the open kitchen door. He called it in.” James was walking towards the door now and keen and Moss were right on his heels. “No signs of forced entry and no discernable prints on the handle.”

James was at the door now staring in; there was a full service kitchen beyond the threshold, butcher block counter tops, white tile floor, and a dead body lying in a pool of blood. Its head had been bashed in from behind, lots of blood; it made James a little uncomfortable. On the counter above the body a cast iron skillet, it had a pool of blood around it too. James pointed to that.

“We are pretty sure that did it sir, got some good prints off it too. If you want to go in and take a look we been entering through the dining room to preserve this scene sir.” James surprised to hear this and complemented Keen on his thinking.

“Come on David, let’s go in and see the body and hear the rest of what Jack has to tell us.”

The dining room was classic Italian restaurant, red and white checked table cloths, candles in wine bottles, James was not really impressed, and that is until he took a closer look. “These table cloths feel like Egyptian cotton.” He exclaimed.

“And those wine bottles go for $450 each. And they just stick candles in them.” Keen was indicating a frame on the wall. James went over and saw that it was the Zaggot review for the restaurant. It claimed that the restaurants charm came from its classic appearance created with high fashion elements. James was angry that he knew what that meant and he grumbled a little.

Entering the kitchen from the dining room, James, moss and Keen all slipped on pairs of latex gloves. “How much time have you spent with the body?” James asked.

“Almost none sir, Kern and I responded to the call. Checked to make sure he was dead, pulled his wallet for ID, Kern roped the place off while I started taking prints from the regular places.”

“Sir,” it was moss this time he was on the other side of the body all ready and kneeling down towards it. “There’s a shoe print here in the blood, and something about this blood is …” James was by him now leaning down.

“It’s different; you’re right, thinner, and watery. Good work David. Is this your print Jack?”

Keen leaned over the body to get a look, “I don’t think so sir, and Kern was never this close to him, I didn’t notice it before, but I really wasn’t looking.”

“It’s all right Keen, is there anything in else in that note book I should hear?”

“Yes sir.” Keen piped up excitedly. He hurried over to the back door and started to close it, as it came away from the inside wall it reveled a spectacular mess behind it. It looked like someone had thrown two entire spaghetti dinners, complete with meat balls and garlic bread on the wall. There was an assortment of broken porcelain to back up the claim.

“Well hello dolly.” James let it slip as the excitement got to him. People do not just throw spaghetti dinners on walls without a reason. Sometimes people knocked in the heads of others without reason, but not throw food. This was not random, this was a fight. This, thought James, had just gotten really interesting. He realized he was smiling and quickly wiped it off his face.

“Sir,” it was Moss again. James turned to see him drifting towards a large sink at what looked like a dishwashing station. James came over to him a looked down to where Moss was indicating. There was a pot, pan, colander and an assortment of utensils, all unwashed and all covered in marinara sauce. James turned quickly and saw what he was afraid of. There on the counter was a white rag. Mark Phillips was cleaning up when his attacker struck. It would have been easy for the attacker to clean up any evidence without worrying about wasting any time.

“Jack, bag that rag and have it tested for blood. Then get Kern in here and keep checking for prints. David and I are going to set up out here in the dining room for a while see if we can find out why any body would want Mark Phillips dead.”

Cross County 2

It was a four minute drive from his house on Live Oak drive to the court house on Main Street. Main Street in Fowler Florida was not the most happening place in the state, but could give any other place in Cross County a run for its money. There is a steady stream of traffic heading to and from Highway 182 which intersects Main Street half a mile south of the court house. James watched the traffic for a second before heading into the municipal building. Once inside he took the hallways on the right of the lobby which lead to the offices of the sheriff department. There was another lobby at the end of the hall with a counter and some chairs along the walls sitting quietly underneath the array of law informant posters displayed in the room. James went to the counter to find Deputy Louisa Gonzales sitting behind it reading a gossip magazine. Deputy Gonzales only briefly looked away from her magazine to see that it was James before turning the page and looking back

“You’re late.”

“I know.” James replied. “Is the sheriff in yet?”

“He’s in court, Judge Jessup.”

“And what about David?” James was straightening his tie in his reflection off one of the windows in the room.

“Deputy Moss is also in court with the sheriff.” James stopped straightening his tie.

“Was I supposed to be in court too?” he asked nervously

“No sir, just on time for once, but I see you couldn’t even manage that. There is pizza sauce on you tie by the way.” James looked down and right where his hand had been a moment before there was sauce, it was on his hand too, he licked it off both his hand and his tie. “You seem out of sorts this morning inspector, is every thing all right?”

“Just fine Louisa.”

“It was the wheel of fortune dream again wasn’t it.” James froze for a second and it all came flooding back to him. A shiver ran down his spine and his jaw tightened as his eyes went glassy and he could see Vanna shaking his head at him and Sajak laughing with his perfect hair and teeth. “Did you at lest get to guess a letter this time?” he shook his head no and let out a sigh at the same time. “Its ok sir, I know you can spell.” She turned the page of her magazine once more. “By the way Miss Olivia Sanders is here, she wants to tell you something.”

“My aunt Olive is here?” James tightened up again as he turned his head to see the small 69 year old woman sitting quietly in the corner with a book of crossword puzzles. He turned his head back and gave Deputy Gonzales and dirty look, not that she was looking at him. “You let me lick my tie in front of her.” He hissed out under his breath.

“Be on time tomorrow and I won’t tell the sheriff you were late today.” And with that James could tell that the deputy was done with the conversation. He turned now to his aunt sitting in the corner. He walked slowly to her and took the orange plastic chair next to hers where he waited patiently for her to look up from her puzzle. She glanced up at one point to see him there, looked back down and scanned her page.

“Jimmy what is a four letter word that means “at no time, poetically”? The second letter is and “e”.” James thought for a second before giving his answer.

“I guess it would be Ne’er, spelled N-E apostasy E-R. It’s a contraction only poet’s use.” She scribbled with her pencil for a bit before looking up and smiling

“It fits, good lad, all that schooling was good for something.”

“Aunt Olive is that the reason you came all the way down here is it?” James was trying as hard as he could to give his aunt a sideways look of displeasure. She simply patted his cheek.

“Don’t make that face dear, it’s very unbecoming.” James let out a sigh and heard a ruffle of paper from behind the counter. “The reason I came was that I wanted to invite you out to dinner at my house tonight. There is a problem I think you could give me some help on.”

“Does this problem have a name and wear a skirt?”

“It might, but unlike the last time there is actually a problem.” She went back to here cross word puzzle. “And before you ask we are not calling the cops, why would we when my nephew is a Deputy Inspector?”

“Well I’m sorry Aunt Olive but I have plans for dinner tonight.” He lied. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, got up and started to walk behind the counter.

“Some time this week Jimmy, I mean it.” She was not even looking up from her puzzle.

James passed through to the offices behind the counter and proceeded to a door labeled Investigations. Once inside he flopped down into a padded chair and closed his eyes. Then he heard a deep slow voice, “Was it the wheel of fortune dream again?” it was the voice of Deputy Inspector Ronny Jones, the only other investigator in the department. Ronny was six foot five, 64 years old with a mess of salt and pepper hair that never looked trimmed. James always thought he looked more like a farmer then a policeman, and it made sense, Ronny handled all the agricultural related crimes.

James opened his eyes and saw Ronny running his finger along a map of the county they had framed on the wall. “What happened?” James asked

“Another young cow was taken, I think 2 days ago but the farmer just realized this morning.”

“Where?”

“Darrel’s place, the fence on the north 40 had been cut and a trailer backed up to it.”

“Just like the other 5 cases.” James got up from the chair and sat down again behind his desk. He picked up a stack of files and shuffled through them. A few missing items and handful of car crashes, and a mugging. All procedural, all boring. He sighed again he tossed the files down again.

“You should stop sighing; you should like a love sick cow. And don’t dismiss those cases, they need to be done, people are waiting on them.”

“I’m saving them for David, he needs the practice. He should be out of court soon then we can get started. Where’s my newspaper?” James searched his desk but to no avail.

“Sheriff took it to court with him.” James sighed again. Just then Deputy Gonzales burst into the room.