The Wreckers - In The Junkyard

The Wreckers - In the Junkyard

Another round of thugly antics. Again, check out Puckarooni for her Pokemon Superhero AU. Cool jams, friendos.

Alolan Joe - Alolan Ratata Leader and self proclaimed mousestache afficianado

Ben - Spearow Brawn of the group of Bachelor of Thuganomics

Zach - Zigzagoon Dunno what he’s doing, but he’s doing it well

Sherman - Sentret Newbie, but he makes up for it with heart

~~~

“Alright, Gents.” Joe said, strapping on his goggles

“Who wants to go first?”

Ben and Sherman’s hands both shot up, Zach was taking his time strapping on his hard hat.

Joe stroked his luxurious lip fluff, “Hmm, let’s see what the new recruit has to offer. Sherman, you’re up.”

Sherman pumped his fist and smiled at Ben. Ben gave him a curt snort before tossing the sledgehammer at him. Sherman fumbled the catch but managed to miss having it land on his toes. He gathered up the hammer and scurried to the center of the junkyard where they had set up their latest target. A sleek, heavy duty, Ironclad™ mini-vault safe.

“Okay,” Sherman said, squaring his feet and tugging at his leather gloves. “Watch this.”

He brought the sledgehammer way back behind him, twisting almost all the way around. He then let out a warrior cry, something of a mix between a painful yelp and yodelling, and brought the sledgehammer against the side of the safe. The metal-on-metal clang rang out through the junkyard. The others brought their hands up over their ears. The safe keeled onto two of its legs before settling back to stability. The ringing died out and Sherman turned around.

His whole body was shaking from the heavy impact. “How was that?”

Zach gave a golf clap, Joe chuckled under his breath. Ben shook his head, “Alright alright, amateur hour is over. We don’t have all night to bust this thing open.”

He sauntered over to Sherman and snagged the sledge out of his trembling hands. Sherman smiled up at him, expectantly. Ben scowled down the bridge of his nose at him. “Uh…Not bad, I guess.” He sniffed and noticed the small dent at the side of the safe, “Now, stand back. Let me show you how it’s done.” He smirked.

Sherman nodded and scuttled back a few steps. Ben took the sledgehammer in his hands and tested its weight, a few test swings swiping at the air. Like a baseball star, he rolled his shoulders, spat on his hands, shook his arms out.

“While we’re young, tough guy.” Joe called out.

“Bite Me, Nerd!” Ben hollered back.

Joe folded his arms and laughed. He turned to Zach, “Think he can actually bust that thing open?”

Zach had finished suiting up with a dust mask and looked like a post-apocalyptic refugee. Zach looked at Ben’s prep ritual and shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I heard that.” Ben said, shouldering the hammer, “Okay, here we go.” He whipped the hammer high over his head and roared his own battle cry. For a whole minute, Ben whaled against the safe. He slammed the sides, top and legs, driving the safe into the dirt. Over and over the hammer fell to the brittle tune of clanging metal. When he finished, the sledge hammer landed beside him with a heavy thud. Ben fought to catch his breath.

“Damn, what’s this thing made of?”

“WHAT!?” Shouted Sherman, standing a few feet away.

“I SAID! -Nevermind.” Ben dragged the hammer back to where Joe was standing. Zach had vanished to places unknown. Sherman hustled behind him.

“Alright, Joe.” Ben said, holding out the hammer to him. “Show us what you got.”

Joe lifted his eyebrows, “What’s this? You’ve given up?”

Sherman, ears slowly returning to their rightful tone frequency, chimed in, “Hey hey, I can go again.”

Ben ignored him, “This was your idea, fearless leader. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

Joe looked at the hammer, then back at Joe. “Alright, Ben.” He took the tool out of Ben’s hands, “But when I crack this thing open, I expect you to start treating me with a little more respect.”

Ben scoffed as Joe whisped past him. Sherman scooted up beside Ben, who stepped a little bit away. Sherman followed. Ben grumbled.

Joe came to the center of the junkyard. The atmosphere of the yard became heavy. He dragged the metal sledge along the ground and it rattled against the various pieces of scrap along the way. The florescent lights hummed above and there was a quiet breeze that picked up a few scattered bits of paper, causing them to dance in the air.

Joe squared off with the safe. He took a deep breath and pulled the heavy sledge hammer into the air. He ratcheted his torso, twisting back and leveling the hammer. The air stood still in anticipation. Ben and Sherman held their breath, along with Zach, whom had returned at some point. Then, with a mighty howl, Joe spun his body and connected with the pointed edge of the safe. The metal clang was joined with a loud crack and snap. The head of the sledgehammer sailed through the air and landed a few feet away from Joe with a dull thud. The safe had been scuffed to the side a few inches, but aside from that was unchanged.

Ben clucked and doubled over, laughing heartily. Sherman shouted from beside him, “That was Awesome!”

Joe turned and casually walked over to the busted head of the hammer. He regarded it before gathering the lump of metal and returning to the rest of the crew.

“Well gents, looks like- Ben you can stop now- looks like we’ll need another plan.”

“What’s in the safe, anyway?” Sherman asked.

“Documents, of some nature.” Said Joe. “They must be pretty dangerous if they want us to Wreck them.”

“What if,” Sherman said, looking excitedly between Joe and Ben, Zach had shuffled off to sniff around the safe. “What if we just hold the stuff ransom? Maybe we can blackmail the guy?”

Joe stroked his stache. Ben gathered himself, “No, cause then we wouldn’t be the Wreckers anymore.” He folded his arms in a tough guy flex, “We’d be the Blackmailers. Or whatever.”

Joe nodded, “He’s right, and I’m already getting T-shirts made.”

“We’re Getting T-Shirts?” Sherman exclaimed.

“You bet, as soon as we crack this safe. Now then.” Joe looked at the busted sledgehammer, “We’ll need a new plan to get those–”

“Done,” Zach said, holding up a manila folder stuffed with documents, the word “classified” was barely visible on a sheet jutting from the mass.

They all looked at the folder, then to the safe, the door was open with no further apparent damage. Joe, with an exceedingly puzzled look on his face, took the folder.

Sherman gawked, “How did you do that?”

Zach held out his hands and gestured with is fingers, wiggling them and twisting his wrist. “Just…ya know.” He did some more wangjangling and fidgeting, “That.” He nodded with a satisfied look on his face.

Sherman watched the display intently, mimicking the frivolous actions as best he could. When Zach was done, he looked at his hands. “That’s wild,” He said, a little disheartened that it made little sense to him.

Ben scoffed, “Well, whatever. I probably loosened it up for him.” He looked over to Joe, “Alright, so now..?” He trailed off expectantly.

Joe took the hint and walked over to an oil drum, “Now, we do what we do best.” He tossed the folder into the bin.

“We Wreck Stuff!” Sherman called out and ran back to the edge of the clearing, grabbing a half tank of gasoline they had stashed there. He hustled it over to Ben and handed off the payload. Sherman had not yet achieved “Burn it” status yet, but he was eager to help.

They gathered around the drum as Ben poured in a responsible amount of fuel into the drum, and then added an irresponsible amount with a sinister grin.

Joe held a hand out to Zach, who whipped a match from his pocket and placed it into Joe’s palm. “Alright Ben, that’s enough.”

Ben rejoined them and set down the tank of gasoline. The three of them watched Joe expectantly.

“This is another job,” Joe lit the match with a strike against his teeth, “Well done.”

He tossed the match into the oil drum and it immediately burst into a column of flame. The four of them stepped back at the spectacle.

“This is so damn cool.” Said Sherman. “Don’t you think this is cool?” He said, turning to Zach.

“Maybe.” Said Zach, who was already busy trying to pry open the lid of what looked like a jewel box.

Ben glanced at Joe, “‘Well done’? Are you freakin serious?”

“What can I say, I have a–,” Joe turned to Ben, so the firelight glimmered off his goggles, “Flare for dramatics.”

Ben groaned.