Archive for the ‘Maxtreme Team’ Category

Well, this is what I do if I can’t think of any video game related posts to make, I try to get some more practice writing my story. If you want to read this story from the beginning start here. Maybe not the best story, but people have said it is somewhat interesting. Maybe with a bit of practice I’ll be able to write a good story. I actually far too biased to say how good the story really is, so anyone who’s read all the parts so far can comment on it.


Once again Racer was doing the work he hated, running around town running various errands for the Party. One day it might be to go pick up a pizza, or to pick up Dictatorman’s dry cleaning, or to get Phil’s cat out of a tree. Today he had to go see Matt, and eccentric inventor, who created one useful invention, and spent the next few years churning out useless crap. Now he periodically calls up party headquarters to say how his latest inventions will cause a huge breakthrough. And as usual it was up to Racer to shovel through shit, and find any useful inventions.

Misery loves company, and Racer managed to convince his friend Bruce to come with him. They were now standing in the middle of nice residential section of the city, with rows of identical houses. Standing out from the surrounding buildings was Matt’s custom built “lair”. It was a large stone tower the dwarfed all of the surrounding buildings.

“You know,” Bruce said, “I’ve never noticed how much Matt’s lair clashes with the rest of the neighborhood. We really need better zoning laws to deal with eye sores like this.”

“We’ll have to bring that up at the next party meeting,” Racer responded, “for now, lets just get this over with.”

Racer and Bruce walked up to the door. The two guards instantly recognized them and stood aside for them to enter. Matt’s lair was dimly lit, and there were tables covered with strange devices as far as the eye could see. Matt himself was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m so glad you are finally here,” said a voice that Racer recognized as Matt, but he wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from.

“Alright Matt,” Racer shouted, “we don’t have time for games. Why don’t you come out of your hiding place, and show us your inventions.”

“Go straight ahead into the next room. On the table you will see several weapons that will be of great use to your war effort.”

“We’re not doing this,” Bruce shouted, “either you show yourself, or I’ll overturn every table in this place and then leave. If you want to show us something, come out of your hiding place.”

“Here I am,” said Matt stepping out of a dark corner of the room, “Follow me into the next room and I will show you, what I’ve created.”

They found the next room to actually have some decent lighting, such that they could actually take a good look at the strange weapons on the table. Matt picked one up off the table and began explaining its usefulness.

“This is a little thing I’d like to call a Anti Personnel Flamespewer, or APF. It shoots a jet of burning fuel up to 30 feet. Length of flame is adjustable for use in different circumstances. Unlike earlier models this one can be carried by a single person, though the weight will slightly slow down a person using it.”

“What is this shit?” Racer exclaimed, “This thing must weigh a ton. Any idiot using one of these will be gunned down by rifles, machine guns, and any other weapon a modern army uses. Range 30 feet, that’s pitiful. I know close quarters combat still happens in modern battlefields, but a bayonet doesn’t halve a persons movement speed.”

“I think that fuel tank will make a very good target for our enemies,” Bruce said, “I’m no expert, but I do have a PhD in Explosive Chemistry, and I’m pretty sure if someone shoots the tank it will explode.”

“I’m sorry Matt,” Racer concluded, “this is a very interesting weapon, but as it is now, it is completely useless to us. Keep working on it, and we might use them in the future.”

“Well,” Matt said, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice, “I do have other inventions. take this for example,” and he held up another weapon.

Racer and Bruce just stood there in stunned silence for awhile until Racer finally managed to find the words, “Matt, that’s a fucking crossbow. They’ve been around for hundreds of years, you moron.”

“Allow me to explain,” Matt said calmly, “This is an improvement on traditional crossbow designs. It is incredibly accurate, and almost completely silent, certainly quieter than any gun. It even has the most advanced scope ever built for more accurate long range shots. Its the perfect stealth weapon. And the best part is that it has a mechanical computer, its internal mechanisms measure things like wind speed, distance, etc and performs calculations then adjusts the scope to help the shooter make the shot taking into account all the relevant factors.”

“Sounds interesting in theory,” racer said, “but the firing speed is unacceptable. Why don’t you stop being a moron, and put these useful mechanisms in a rifle instead of a crossbow, and then we’ll talk.”

“I see,” said Matt sadly, he was quite depressed that a second of his inventions was rejected, “well I do have one other weapon. It’s nothing too special, its just a slightly modified version of the standard rifle that our troops are using. As you can see, the stock of the rifle has built into it a compass, a can opener, and a lighter.”

“I’m not sure its really necessary,” Racer began, “but it could be useful to have an all in one tool, so I’ll approve it for mass production. It seems you have nothing else on the table, so I assume that’s all you have to show us.”

“That’s correct,” Matt replied, ” you may go now.”

“So,” Bruce said, “we came all the way out here and wasted all this time to see crap, and a slightly modified rifle. I feel like we just wasted a lot of time.”

“I’m sure the readers will feel the same way,” Matt replied.

“Readers?” Bruce asked, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“I was so sure that I had created some amazing weapons that I wrote an article about them that will be featured in a newspaper tomorrow. After hearing your reactions to them, I imagine the readers will feel the same way about my weapons.”

“So that’s what you meant by readers,” Racer replied, “Well we really must be going now. Next time only call us if you don’t have a pile of useless crap to show off.”

Racer and Bruce left a sorely disappointed Matt to sulk in the darkness. As they were leaving Bruce made a personal note to improve the zoning laws to tear down horrible eyesores like Matt’s Lair.


If you haven’t already, make sure to check out the prologue and part 1 of the story, to understand what is going on. So far only Fang has shown any interest in the story, but maybe that will change over time. Speaking of Fang, something really weird is going on with the page views. There’s this thing that lets me see the number of views each page gets per day, but Fang has left comments on pages that it says nobody viewed that day. I don’t know if Fang is a ghost, wizard, or figment of my imagination, or the more bizarre theories that it simply had an error tracking page views or I’m remembering wrong. Whatever it is, its weird.


Racer and Bruce returned to the meeting with the pizzas. The party members were in the middle of an important discussion. Phil, who was in command of the Erion Defense Force was saying, “Alliance forces are moving into the outlying farmlands. We have almost no farmland within our city walls, if we lose control of the surrounding area, will not have enough food to last through the next winter. Our forces are putting up a valiant fight, but we are too heavily outnumbered by our enemies.”

“Hmm,” Dictatorman replied grabbing a slice of pizza from the box, “we have a disproportionate number of heroes fighting on our side, surely this will make up for their advantage in numbers.”

“I’m afraid not. In the past a few heroes on the battlefield could very well determine the outcome of the battle regardless of the number of regulars, but in this age of machine guns and artillery strikes, the affect of heroes on the battlefield is greatly diminished. That’s not to say it makes no difference, certainly the reason our soldiers are holding out as long as they have against the alliance is because of our heroes, but I’m afraid it just won’t be enough.”

“We have no other choice Phil, you have to use your ability.”

Every member of the Maxtreme Party was a hero, each with their own super power. Phil’s power was that he could make an exact duplicate of himself. He rarely did this, as the energy consumption of using this power made both of him really hungry after the duplication, and the total weirdness of having an exact copy usually resulted in the murder or suicide of one of the Phil’s.

“In theory I can duplicate myself hundreds or even thousands of times if I get enough food to eat, but in the time it will take to get a significant number of me to fight against the alliance, we can expect to have lost a significant amount of our farmland, if not the entirety of it outside our walls.”

“Well, many of our citizens are eating more food than they need to survive,” said the chief of civil order, more commonly called the Chief, “what if we took control of the production of all food, and rationed out a minimum necessary for survival to our citizens, and giving as much as possible to Phil so he can build an army of himself?”

“I like it Chief,” said Dictatorman, “but who can we put in charge of running such a department?”

“Well it was my idea. I think I can handle the additional responsibilities,” the Chief quickly replied.

“Racer, what’s your current position in the government?” Dictatorman asked to the disappointment of the Chief who knew he would not be getting additional powers any time soon.

“Errand boy,” Racer replied in disgust.

“That’s right, you’re my second in command, and yet it seems your role is mainly advisory, with very little control in the operation of the government. What you need is your own department to run. I’m officially making you head of the newly formed Department of War Materials Allocation. You will have full control of the production and distribution of food, medicine, weapons and any other goods that are important to the war. You have 48 hours to choose a team from among the party members, as well as hire any regulars you need, to run this department. Don’t worry about the legality, we’ll convince a couple opposition parties of the neccessity of it for fighting the war, and get it passed by the senate.”

“Wait a minute!” Bruce shouted, “we have opposition parties? Why does nobody tell me anything? And the Senate? That old thing is still around? I thought we got rid of that.”

“Of course not,” Dictatorman replied, “the senate is part of the Erion constitution. As the party with the most seats in the senate we can perform most of the government functions internally without consulting the senate. Something major like creating a new government department with extraordinary powers requires approval by majority of the senate. If we wanted to get rid of the senate and give ourselves full power, we need to change the constitution, which requires 75% approval by the senate. And we almost had it before the party split!”

Everyone in the room was stunned. It was rare to see Dictatorman show any emotion, especially an outburst of anger. Dictatorman continued as if nothing had happened, “Racer, there’s one other thing I need you to do. Matt called and said he is developing new weapons to be used in the war. Since I’m too busy to go myself, I need you to take a look at what he’s building, and if its good approve it for mass production.”

“Great,” said Racer, “I get to be the errand boy again.”

“Well, you are the fastest.”

If you’re new to this site and you don’t find this story interesting, try reading some of the video game related posts before leaving. Just trying to practice my amateurish writing skills for fun. You can find the prologue here, which gives some important background information on the events leading up to the beginning of the story. In theory, I’ll have a video game related post later today, but I’m not so sure.


His real name was long forgotten, he was simply known as Racer. Foregoing the more elaborate superhero names of his peers, like the Intimidating Imp, or the Devastating Deviant, he chose a simpler name. It described him perfectly, he was Racer, the fastest person who ever lived.

The only thing he couldn’t outrun, is the incompetence of the current administration. Instead of going for a run outside, like he would like to, he was currently in board room, with other prominent members of the party, to discuss important policy matters, but the meeting couldn’t start until Dictatorman showed up. He could at least be on time at least be on time for the meetings he scheduled.

Just as Racer was getting ready to stand up and walk out, Dictatorman finally arrived. He sat down at the head of the table and began to talk as if nothing had hadn’t arrived really late and pissed everyone off, “We’ve got a lot of items on the agenda to talk about, so we should get started at once. First of all, Racer, head down to Rajiv’s and get us a couple of curry pizzas…”

“I have to do what?” Racer asked with heavy dose of  exasperation is his voice.

“Well you can’t expect us to draft policy on an empty stomach, now can you? You are the fastest aren’t you?”

He had a point there, he was the fastest. Truthfully, Racer would rather be outside than in this board room anyway. However the thought of leaving made him slightly nervous. Almost everyone else in the room, would vote in favor of whatever Dictatorman wanted, not necessarily cause they were so loyal to the party leader, but because they had no real understanding of what it is they were voting on and trusted his judgment.

Sensing racer’s apprehension Dictatorman said, “Don’t worry, we won’t vote on any policy until you get back.”

Feeling somewhat relieved by this, Racer got up and left the room. Almost as soon as he was gone, Dictatorman sad, “Okay I’ve got a couple of things I want to vote on before he gets, back. I think everyone understands these issues pretty well and there’s no reason to have a debate on it. I’ll just tell you my proposals and you guys can vote for or against.”

Racer got to Rajiv’s and ordered a couple of large curry pizzas to go, when Luigi Linguini, the notorious mob boss, walked in with a couple of thugs. Organized crime had been nearly wiped out since the heroes took control of the government, but a few mobsters continued to evade capture.

Racer would have liked to take down these mobsters himself, but as long as he was in Rajiv’s restaurant, he could do no violence. The powers protecting this place were far more ancient and powerful than anything the Maxtreme Party could ever hope to have. Instead Racer grabbed a menu to cover his face, and only when the mobsters where seated on the far side of the restaurant did he get up and ask to use Rajiv’s phone.

“Hello,” said a voice on the other end of the phone call, “You’ve reached Maxtreme Party Headquarters. If you know the extension for the office you want to call, please enter it now. If you don’t know the extension but do know the name of the person you’d like to reach, tell me and I’ll attempt to put you through.”

“I need to speak to Dictatorman,” Racer shouted.

“I’m sorry sir, but Dictatorman is in the middle of an important policy meeting.”

“This is Racer, and it’s an emergency.  I really need to talk to Dictatorman right now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you. I’ll try to get through to him. One moment.”

Racer waited for about a minute before the the irritated voice of Dictatorman answered, “Whatever it is, make it quick. Any minute now Racer will come back with our curry pizzas, and I don’t want to be on the phone when he gets here, I want to eat immediately.”

“This is Racer! I’m at Rajiv’s, and I’ve spotted a few of those mobsters that have managed to evade us so far, including their leader, Luigi. I need you to send some guys down here to apprehend them as soon as they leave the restaurant.”

“I don’t really have time to deal with this, I’ll put Phil on the phone.”

“Hello, this is Phil. What is it that’s so important that Dictatorman had to turn it over to somebody else?”

“Hi Phil, it’s Racer. A couple of mobster fugitives are at Rajiv’s send down some soldiers to apprehend them.”

“Sorry kid, that’s out of my jurisdiction. The Military division I command is in charge of securing our borders against invaders. Arresting criminals within our city is not my job. I’ll put you on the phone with the chief. He should be able to help you out.”

“Hello this is chief of civil order, how can I help you?”

“Hey chief, it’s Racer. I need you to send some guys down to Rajiv’s to apprehend some mobsters as soon as they leave the restaurant.”

“No problem, buddy. As soon as we’re done with this conversation I’ll call up civil order headquarters and tell them to send somebody to Rajiv’s. Expect them to arrive in about 10 minutes.”

“10 minutes? It looks like they are almost done eating can’t you get them here faster?”

“Sorry , buddy. You’ll just have to try and stall them.”

“While I have you on the phone, I always wondered what your name was, so I don’t have to call you chief all the time.”

“I don’t have time for this, I’m putting Bruce on.”

“You’ve reached chief justice Bruce, what do you want? And make it quick, I’ve already missed voting on one issue because of you.”

“Hey Bruce, It’s Racer. There’s some mobsters down at the Rajiv’s and I need you to hold the doors shut so they can’t leave. Wait you guys are voting on issues without me? What are you voting on!?”

“It’s nothing, we just voted on whether or not to raise the cocaine tax to 50%. It passed by 1 vote. Anyway, this meeting is pretty lame, heroes should be out fighting crime not sitting in a meeting. I’ll ditch this and come help you out. See you soon”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Racer continued to watch the mobsters by peeking over the top of his menu. They finished eating and were now on their way out, and Bruce still hadn’t shown up, so Racer had to keep them from leaving, at least until Bruce showed up.

“Luigi!” Racer shouted.

All three mobsters turned around to face Racer and Luigi spoke, “Well if it isn’t the fastest man in the world. Is it true you can dodge the bullets from 3 fully automatic guns, all being fired at the same time.”

“That’s true.”

“Why don’t you step outside and test it out?”

“Maybe in a few minutes, my pizzas are almost done.”

“We’ll have to do this some other time, I’m in a hurry.”

“Wait!” screamed Racer.

“What is it?”

“You’ve managed to keep you’re freedom for awhile now, but one of these days, we’re going to catch, you and throw you in prison.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re trying to stall for time while your friends come and apprehend us. Lets go boys.”

Unfortunately for them it was too late. Bruce was at the door, and try as they might, they couldn’t get it to budge an inch. They were no match for his super strength. Eventually one of the mobsters grew impatient, and said, “I know how to fix this,” and drew his pistol adn pointed it at Bruce.

As he was about to pull the trigger there was a blurry movement, and where there was once a mobster there was now a pile of bloody meat and shredded clothes. This is the fate of anyone who tries to commit violence in Rajiv’s domain. It’s fortunate that Rajiv is content to run a restaurant instead of using his tremendous power to forge an empire, like some of  his ancestors have done.

“So,” Luigi said, “you’re just going to let him block the doorway?”

“I have called the civil order department,” Rajiv said, “They say someone is already on the way.”

“That’s right,” said Racer, “they’re on their way. I’m sure Bruce will get a small fine for obstructing a business, but you will be put in prison for a long time.”

“Okay, so you’ve caught me, congratulation. There isn’t a single shred of evidence that ties me to any crime.”

“Evidence? I think you may have missed today’s paper. Chief Justice Daniels has passed away. That guy holding the door shut will be judging you. He has a personal belief in your guilt, so it looks pretty bad for you.”

A few minutes later the police cars showed up. Bruce got out of the doorway and the police arrested the 2 remaining mobsters, as well as gave Bruce a notice of the fine he has to pay to Rajiv within the week.

“Your pizzas are ready,” Rajiv said to racer.

“Lets hurry up and get these pizzas back to the meeting really quick,” Bruce said.

“Yeah,” Racer replied, “I wouldn’t want to miss any votes on government policy.”


Please leave any comments on the story. I’m aware that my writing is pretty amateurish, so if your going to criticize make sure its constructive and not just trolling.

I did say I was going to start on a story to hopefully make this blog more interesting. If you are new to the blog but don’t find this story interesting, try reading some of the video game related posts before leaving. Just so everyone knows I will have a video game post, later today. Much, much later. This Prologue should give you some background on the the setting and stuff like that. The title might not make sense until farther in the story.


For generations heroes have protected people from evil. Brave men and women, gifted with amazing talents, who stand up for their fellow citizens, without seeking any reward. However fear and hatred of those who are different began to creep in and heroes began having their rights restricted. Those few city-states with more lenient treatment of heroes became magnets to attract them from around the world.

One such city, Erion, was a safe haven for heroes from around the world. Eventually the politicians of Erion began to fear heroes as well and reduce their rights, but the heroes were in greater numbers than in any previous city, formed their own political party, and prevented any unfair treatment against them.

In time, organized crime began to grow as it had in other cities, and the corrupt government began to take bribes to look the other way. Only the heroes ignored such bribery, and finally the people were fed up with the corruption of the other parties, and the heroes gained enough support to become the government of Erion.

The results were effective and immediate. Organized crime was all but eliminated, with only a few mobsters still at large and in hiding, and almost no activity by any of them. That was not all that happened. Heroes used their incredible political power to increase the powers of police to search, detain, and torture suspects on the slightest suspicion. Crime in general began to drop, to a record low.

However the affects of heroes taking power were not just internal but also affected other cities as well. Heroes being oppressed in other city states became more bold and spoke out against their unfair treatment and even fought the government.

Erion was one of the most powerful city-states in the region and its neighbors soon feared that it’s influence would lead to the rise of hero governments all throughout the region. Erion was denounced as an unjust dictatorship, and an alliance was formed to fight against it.

More bad news for Erion is that several weeks after the heroes became the government, party leader John Jenkins got sick and had to be hospitalized. Official reports didn’t say what he was sick with, we only know that he is under armed guard, and is allowed no visitors.

His replacement as party leader, the self titled Dictatorman, did not get support from the entire party, leading to schism in the hero party. The so called Traditional Hero Party, following the party leader Aerial Master, who want to limit police power and increase funding to education. The Maxtreme party led by Dictatorman, follows the political ramblings of some guy a hundred years ago, and mostly involves slowly turning the city into a police state, for their own protection.

Dictatorman, unfit to run a lemonade stand, let alone a country. His most impressive power is complete ignorance of what’s going on around him and yet still maintaining control of the government. He’s also unkillable, as several assassin’s have learned. Point blank gunshot to the head has no affect on him, but perhaps he has some weakness that has yet to be discovered.

Thankfully his total incompetence is somewhat mitigated by a hands off style of governance, letting other party members run most of the day to day operations of the government and only getting involved in the most important situations. Unfortunately a spirit of competition between various departments in the government often leads to them working against each other rather than working together.

The story begins one month into the rule of the heroes over Erion. The people are getting restless, the government is a complete mess, and alliance forces are marching to the walls of Erion. On the bright side, crime is still at an all time low.


Sorry for the info dump, but it was important to tell the background on the story. From now on there should be more action, and less info dumping. If anyone is the slightest bit interested in this story, please leave a comment.