I’m in the plane with the Don’s pilot, who’s a damn fine pilot, and I ask when we’re landing. I should have know this would be an unpleasant trip when he started laughing his ass off. Then he gave me a parachute and shoved me out of the plane.

While the parachute helped me survive, it didn’t help me not land in the goddamn water, which happened to have some sort of freakish mutant sharks living in it! So I haven’t set foot on the island yet, and I’ve already had to kill something. Deeeeeeeeelightful. Thank God my guns work underwater and the sharks weren’t bulletproof. So I managed to kill one of those with a well-placed bullet and drag myself to shore. Instantly, I felt… off. I guess that was all the magic defenses I have turning off.

And that’s when the robots attacked.

I just got back from that damn island. Oh sweet Jesus was that a disaster. If I didn’t need to find the Don to get the antidote to some sort of snake venom, I’d stick around to tell you guys about it. I’ll do that tomorrow. Oh shit! My arm’s purple now!? What the hell was that snake!?

I wrote that at noon and forgot to post it. My bad!

Few things are more uncomfortable than talking to the man whose son you killed, especially if he can kill you in the time it takes you to sneeze. Something that makes it worse, though, is if he invites you to dinner.

So there I am, sitting across the table from a vampire crime kingpin and eating steak with a side of fine wine. The room’s dead silent and the various vampire bodyguards standing on either side of both me and the Don are being quiet as the grave. When the Don cleared his throat, he scared the shit out of me!

He told me that he’d be willing to have his man fly me to where I needed to go, on one condition. Apparently there’s something on that island he wants, some sort of magical artifact. Considering my options and my desire not to piss him off, I agreed to those terms and got ready to leave. Before I could, though, the Don made sure to let me know he still planned to kill me in the future and would only let me live as long as I continued to be of use to him. Y’know, usually people just say goodbye when folks leave their home. But “goodbye” just doesn’t feel as natural as a good old death threat, right gang? 

I leave on my trip in the morning and get back hopefully tomorrow night. If not then, then sometime before the weekend. Wish me luck!

I really didn’t want to have to do this, but I liked my jacket too much to throw out and still couldn’t get it cleaned. So I went to Henrich and asked him if he could do anything about it. Surprise surpise, he not only said he knew what to do, but he charged out the ass for the information.

If I want my jacket fixed, I have to fly to a volcanic island in the Pacific Ocean that completely negates magic. That includes the stuff in my jacket that already weakens or negates magic, and blocks any efforts to remove those spells so I can clean the jacket. So this is the one place on Earth I can wash the jacket. There’s a guy I know with the resources to get me there. The problem is that he works for Don Davidson. Yeah, THAT Don Davidson, the head of the local Vampire crime family who vowed to kill me someday for killing his insane son in order to help the vamps regain their supply of blad and keep them from eating people. This won’t be awkward at all.

It’s been Christ only knows how long, and my jacket still smells like Bug Man guts! Goddammit! It turns out all the anti-magic defenses and protection I’ve given it over the years makes it a lot harder to clean. So now I’m running around in whatever I can find that doesn’t smell like crap! I wish that the bug man was still alive so I could FREAKING KILL HIM AGAIN!

Oh Christ, was Mother’s Day a pain in my ass. So you remember how I was asked to work with BUNKER Agents 388 and 883? Well someone needs to remind me to be a lot more selective about who the hell I take jobs from, from now on!

Ok, so for Mother’s Day, I go to the cemetery every year to leave flowers. That’s where the agents picked me up to do our job. So as we were riding to wherever the hell this job was, they changed into their armor and let me know what was up. This “bug man” had apparently been making snacks out of anyone unlucky enough to wander near its stomping ground. BUNKER had dispatched Agents 388 and 883 to the scene to see if they could squash the pest.

Here’s a pic of 388 in her BUNKER gear, by the way. Since she and that prick she works with keep popping up, you might as well know their faces.

And here’s Agent Douche Bag.

So we get to the bridge where the bug lives, get out of the car, and start slowly moving towards it. The whole time, 883 is talking about how I should stay out of the way and let the professionals deal with this and how I’m only here because 388 felt bad for me. Hey asshole, when we worked together to fight the robot, which of us got his ass handed to him and started asking for cookies, and which of us actually put up a goddamn fight? Yeah, I thought so.

We were getting close to the bridge when 388 held her hand up for us to stop. We listened carefully and could hear something scratching at wood nearby. So when the bug burst out from under the bridge, we already had weapons trained on it and blasted the ugly son of a bitch with everything we had!

That managed to piss it off. Maybe. To be fair, it already looked kind of pissed. Damn thing looked like a praying mantis with butterfly wings. The real messed up part, though was that it had a human head and a pair of antenna. Holy shit was it ugly!

So taking God knows how much ammo to the stomach didn’t do anything more than knock it down. Within seconds, it was back on its feet and running around us. Before 883 could even react, it kicked him in the back and sent him flying into the sand. I managed to aim right between the ugly freakshow’s eyes, but it gave me one hell of a haymaker before I could shoot.

The damn thing perched on my chest and its mouth opened wider than its body. A pair of pincers emerged from within. I felt sick just looking at the ugly creature. Thankfully, it didn’t notice 388. She leapt onto its back and popped a blade out of the wrist of her armor. One clean slice, and the bug man was missing a head. She then went for some overkill and shoved a grenade down its throat.

As I shoved it off me and made a ran for cover, the bug exploded and showered everything with stinky green goo. While I was fine, my jacket got soaked. Shit. I love this jacket, too. Could be worse. 883 chose that moment to sit up and took goo to the face. Ha! Loser.

So after that rather disgusting incident, 388 drove me back to my apartment and apologized for the mess. She even gave me some extra cash, enough to pay for a new coat.

My Mother’s Day was spent fighting a hideous bug man and losing my favorite coat. What a day.

I just realized that when I was telling you guys the business with the shape shifter and all that, I forgot to tell you where my memory went and how I got shot. Yeah, funny story about that. When I got home from a different case, it turned out I had accidentally left the safety off on my gun. I tripped, it went off, and I accidentally shot myself. That was really damn humiliating, so I made a comment about wishing I could forget that happened. The damn elves decided to be helpful, and zapped me with some magic that would erase the last 24 hours of my memory. Goddamn elves. As for the note, it turned out I had actually seen the shape shifter leaving the theatre and chased after him. The bastard had gotten away, though. So when I got home and everything happened with the gun and the elves, I quickly wrote down what time I had gotten home and the name of the theatre, knowing I would go back there to retrace my steps and would get all caught up chasing the shape shifter.

The reason I didn’t mention any of this earlier is that I had in fact regained my memory when I got to the theatre, but didn’t wanna say how I shot myself. It was too embarrassing. Hell, the only reason I’m telling you all now is because I realized what a big plot hole that leaves in the blog so far. I knew the shape shifter wasn’t me because I did remember everything by the time I saw the recording.

So to recap, I accidentally shot myself after meeting the shape shifter, and the elves erased my memory. Let us never speak of me shooting myself again.

After throwing some shit together, I made my way to the Rich Bastard’s mansion. It wasn’t easy getting in, but with a little aid from my good friend “Old Fashioned Breaking And Entering,” I pulled it off.

The Rich Bastard’s place was filled with all sorts of nice, breakable things. And there I was with two guns and a shit load of anger issues to work out. I smashed my way through the place, wrecking everything in sight and kicking all sorts of ass. No kills, though. I don’t kill the normal folks.

After going berserk on the Rich Bastard’s house, I finally found the old sack of crap hiding under a desk. After all the shit he’d put me through in the past, it was kind of satisfying to  see him squirm like that. So I hauled his fat ass out and threw him into a wall, for a little Q & A session.

At first, he didn’t really wanna cooperate. Then I broke his wrist. It was like throwing a switch! He babbled on and on about how someone had come to him and offered to deal with some of his rivals, as well as cause me some grief, for a pretty price. He’d agreed.

Those guys I’m accused of killing? They were the Rich Bastard’s rivals in his illegal Secret World trading business. They had scooped rare treasures out from under him before. Remember when I had to transport that heart that’s now stored in my fridge? If not, read “The Transplant” and the next few posts after that. The guy who attacked me worked for one of the Rich Bastard’s rivals. So when someone offered to take care of that for him, the Rich Bastard agreed happily. Screwing me over was an added bonus.

Ok, the bad news is that he couldn’t tell me who it was he had hired. All the payment was through cash after the job was done. And lemme tell you, it was more money than some small countries have. The good news is that I used a hidden recorder to take note of his entire confession for BUNKER.

This brings us to today, one week after I should have had all this posted. BUNKER was a little doubtful about the recording I brought them, until they checked the Rich Bastard’s security cameras and used some of their own tactics to work him over and verify his story. He got off scott-free, though, by naming names and places BUNKER didn’t know about yet. Dammit. Also, I ran into Agent 883 and Agent 388 back at my apartment. They had come by to let me know they were looking into the shapeshifter’s identity and had a few leads. Agent 388 brought me some coffee as a way of apology, while Agent 883 looked like he was swallowing something unpleasant. His partner had to give him a hearty slap on the back to make the prick spit his apology out.

I guess as a way of apologizing, they came by to see if I was interested in joining them on a case involving some sort of bug man living under the new bridge outside town. After the time I’ve had, sure. I could use the money. Tomorrow, I go bug hunting!

The thing about shape shifters is that they’re illegal. BUNKER naturally employes a few in “secret,” but the magic to do it is illegal for the most part. Because of this, he creeps who use it tend to run a high price for their services. And therefore, only the wealthy can afford to hire them. Gee, do I know anyone rich enough to employ the services of a shapeshifter with a desire to cause me trouble? I wonder who on Earth it could be. I bet the culprit’s my English professor! She always did look suspicious. Or maybe it’s the Rich Bastard who’s gotten on my bad side and has more money than God.

So after reaching this incredible and shocking conclusion, I grabbed pretty much every weapon I could get my hands on.

My 2 handguns

A few grenades

My grappling hook

Clawed gloves

and my usual anti-magic shit.

It wasn’t much, but hopefully this would be enough crap to give certain sons of bitches a reeeeeeeeeeeal headache and weed out an annoying shapeshifter.

Never! I enjoy writing this blog too much!