Fiction

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter Six: Tee Bone Goes to Camp!

“Enough is enough!” shouted the superhero in the cape.

“Alright, alright!” retorted the superhero in the motorcycle helmet.

“I am going on vacation, even if it kills me!” the first hero emphasized.

“Nobody’s stopping you!” returned the man in the black helmet.

“We have literally fought Sasquatch, Satan’s minions — twice, and Brad Marchand from the NHL, without a break!  It’s either Miller time or Tee Bone Man goes crazy time.” said the first hero, as he removed the mask from his face.

“How about Tee Bone Man chills for a minute time!” shouted his partner Superdekes, as his helmet dropped to the dirt.  “You are the one who insists on helping every single Australian, American or southern Ontario stoner we run across!”  Changing his tone of voice, Deke said calmingly, “There are other superheroes.  The weight of the world doesn’t have to be on your shoulders.  Maybe it’s just time for some Tee Bone time?”

A slight pause, and then Tee Bone removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes right where the headache was setting in.  He sighed.  “You’re right.”  Then he added, “This one time, you’re right.  I’m going to Camp for a week.  I won’t even fly there.  I’ll drive.  No superpowers for a whole week.”

“Atta boy!” said Deke as he patted Tee Bone Man on the back.  “I’ll take care of everything.  I have a ton of new gadgets and upgrades I’m working on up at Deke’s Palace.  I’ll mind the fort.”

“Thanks pal,” said Tee Bone to his best friend.  “See you in one week.”

“Seven days,” Deke responded as they fist bumped.

“Don’t let being right for once go to your head,” smartassed Tee Bone with a wink.

“We’re running around, like we’re in a rat race!  Monkey bars, swingin’ stars!  Countin’ the cars, by the monkey bars!”  Tee Bone was singing his lungs out on the highway to Camp.  Windows down, stereo on 11, sunglasses on his face, Tee Bone hadn’t felt so good in months.  The drive was relaxing to him and a short two hours later he had arrived.  “Devil’s Deck”, the actual name of Camp Tee Bone, was given due to its luxurious and expansive decks.  Littered with chairs and umbrellas, the party deck alone could comfortably seat 20.  In fact, the name “Devil’s Deck” was coined by the Devil himself, at an after-party there when Tee Bone and Deke faced off with him over a Gene Simmons box set.

Tee Bone got out of the car with his hockey bag and gazed reminiscing at the big deck.

“That was one wild party,” said Tee Bone shaking his head.  “Turns out Satan can’t hold his liquor.”

The big man stepped up and unlocked the main door.  The smell of wood hit him as he entered.  Always so pungent yet sweet, the smell of wood at Camp.  But something was off.  He wrinkled his nose.  He sniffed the air.

“Squirrel poo.  That God damn squirrel has been in here.  I thought I sealed off all the holes.  Must have missed one last season.”

He put his bag down, flipped on the power, unpacked some liquor and put it in the fridge.  He looked around just to absorb that feeling again, the feeling of being free in your own Camp, with only forest and lake in your line of sight, in every direction.  He went outside to gather wood.

“Squee! Squee! Squee!”  An abrasive sound from the trees.  High above him, the branches moved as something jumped from vantage point to vantage point.

“God damn squirrel,” complained Tee Bone as he grabbed six logs from the wood pile.

“Nice and dry,” said Tee Bone approvingly as he examined the lumber.

“Squee!” came the sound from the trees!  “Aaaackackack!”

This must have been squirrel talk for “Bombs away!” because the very next second, Tee Bone was wiping squirrel shit from his glasses.

“What the…?”  He looked up in fury!  “You little bastard!”

“Squee squee squee ack ack!” responded the squirrel, easily dodging the piece of lumber thrown at him.  In seconds, he had leapt so far away that Tee Bone could no longer see him in the trees.

Inhaling deeply, Tee Bone dropped the wood and closed his eyes.  He inhaled again, smelling the pollen and pine.  “I am not letting that squirrel ruin my week at Camp.  Absolutely no way.  Not happening.”  He then raised his voice and shouted into the forest, “NOT HAPPENING!”

“Not happening…happening…happening…happening…” the forest echoed back as if in mockery.

Tee Bone sat by the campfire in complete relaxation.  Such utter peace.  He took a deep breath, held it a moment, and let it go.  The fire crackled before him, alive and sparking with the sound of dry wood and combustion.  He watched the flames dance before him, forming red, orange and yellow shapes just as quickly as they disappeared.  The sound of the popping wood was like music to his weary soul.

From his stereo nearby came another sound:  that of rock and roll!

“Like a one-eyed jack, stick a knife in your back,” sang Carl Dixon on Coney Hatch’s debut album.  “There’s a devil in her deck!”

Tee Bone swigged his beer and nodded his head to the song.  He sang along.

“Take all you got!  Hell’s so hot!” boomed Tee Bone, with his beer in the air.  He would know, having defeated the minions of Satan at the gates of hell with Superdekes not that long ago.  “Yeah man!” Tee Bone shouted in celebration.  He deserved a little celebration!  He did save the world, after all.  He stood, and mimed a little bit of air guitar to the classic Steve Shelski solo.  “Oooh there’s a devil in her deck!”

At the conclusion of the track, Tee Bone put down his beer, stretched and smiled at the sweetness of camp life.

“Better go get some more wood,” he said to himself.  “And some hot dogs and marshmallows to go with it!”

Tee Bone turned around, took a step, and tripped.  He fell to the ground with a heavy thud.  As he did, he heard a victorious “squeeee!” from the trees.  Getting up and brushing the leaves and grass from his shirt, he saw what caused his fall.  A small pile of twigs and branches that he certainly did not leave there.  Which means….

“Squeee! Ackackack,” came the sound from the trees again, just before another squirrel poop was dropped on Tee Bone’s head.

“That God damned squirrel…” mumbled a fuming Tee Bone to himself as he wiped the crap from his hair.  Anger smouldered inside him, much hotter than the campfire.  The squirrel hurriedly left the scene of the crime with a jump and a leap.  “That little bastard.  He’s targeting me!” shouted Tee Bone at the trees.

The forest turned silent in answer.

The moon was full that night, and Tee Bone slept like he had not been able to sleep back in the city.  The satisfied sleep of the just.  The kind of calm re-energizing that comes only with…

“Squee! Ackackack.”

Tee Bone was startled awake.  It took a minute to remember where he was.  Then, he rubbed that spot in the corner of his eyes where the headache liked to go.

“That God damn squirrel!”

He removed his covers and got out of bed with a start.  He ran down from his bedroom to the first floor of the Camp, and flipped the lights.  Outdoors, night became as day!  The light flooded the property.  He stormed out onto the deck, yelling as a man possessed!

“You!  You little bastard!  You will not ruin my vacation!  You will not!”  He violently shook his finger at the nearest tree.  “I’ve just about had it with you!”

The night was silent, but for the cool wind that rustled the leaves on the Devil’s Deck.

Tee Bone lingered a moment and then, satisfied that he had scared the little rodent off, stepped back inside.

“Squee!” the squirrel teased from a distance.

“Little bastard,” mumbled Tee Bone under his breath as he closed the door.  “I’m gonna lose it I swear.”  The forest whispered quietly behind him.

Morning came.  “Bacon and eggs over an open fire?  Don’t mind if I do!” mumbled Tee Bone as he yawned himself awake.

The big man sat up and removed his nightcap.  Outside the bedroom window:  a symphony of birds, a delight that he let enter his body through all his senses.  He closed his eyes and simply absorbed the music of the outdoors.  He was hungry but food could wait just a few more minutes.  Then he opened his eyes.  The lake was deep blue.  He strode over to the window.  Looked like it was going to be a clear day.  Good day for…

“SQUEE!”  The squirrel suddenly appeared, jumping right at a startled Tee Bone, and landing on the flowerbed beneath the window!

“AHHH!” screamed Tee Bone in shock.  His heart raced 100 beats a minute as he staggered backwards onto the hardwood floor.  “OW!” he yelped at his bruised tailbone.

Satisfied, the squirrel jumped away back into the trees.

Tee Bone felt the rage rise once again in his blood.  He stood with a groan, threw open the windows, and yelled.

“Today, squirrel!  It’s going down today!  You are dead meat, rodent!  Dead meat!”

Closing the windows, Tee Bone ran to his dresser and took out his best camouflaged clothes.

“Told you I’d need these one day,” he whispered to Mrs. Tee Bone as if she was actually in the room with him.  “Today I’m gonna catch a squirrel.”  Then a pause.  “Because I promised Deke I wouldn’t use my powers!” answered Tee Bone impatiently to nobody.  He was losing his grip.

Mentally on the brink, he frantically searched for items around the house.  It was psychological warfare now and Tee Bone was on the losing end.  The squirrel was winning and worse than that, Tee Bone knew it.  He was looking for a specific bag with an item inside that he would require today.  He also needed a hat.  “No, not the Montreal Canadiens hat!” he shouted to no-one.  Instead he selected a plain white baseball hat.  In the downstairs closet, he spotted the bag he sought, with the big “Deke’s Palace” logo on the side.

“I’ve got him this time,” said the rapidly deteriorating Tee Bone, getting more manic as he changed into his camo outfit.  “Shut up!  Shut up!!  No more narration!”

I watch from my hiding spot, crouching uncomfortably in the thorns.  My face is covered in black facepaint, leftovers from last summer’s Kiss costume party.  Remember?  I was Ace, and Deke drew the short straw and had to be Vinnie Vincent.  Note to self:  no more black leather in summer.  But now the party is over and I’m here in the bushes to catch a little bastard rodent.  Next to me, I have a special bag from Deke’s Palace.  One of gadgets that he left here after the party.  A toy, actually, for the kids, but it’ll work for these purposes.  I’ve already programmed the course.  I just need that little prick to take the bait.

There’s movement in the trees, but I can tell from the colours that it’s just birds.   Two blue jays and a cardinal.  No squirrels.  He’s a smart little shit.  He’s been watching me.  Clandestine surveillance.  He knows I’m up to something.  I know he knows.  But here’s the thing.  He may be smart, but I’m crazy.  Crazy like a fox.  He made me this way.  And now he will find out what happens when you mess with a crazy fox!

Now I hear him.  “Squee-ing” in the trees.  A battle cry.  He knows what’s happening here:  winner take all.  Either I win and have my vacation, or he wins and they take me to the funny farm.  There’s no other outcome.

I’ve waited here motionless for so long I’ve lost track of time.  I know the sun has moved.  The bait was in the sun when I dropped it.  Now it’s in the shade.  I just have to hope that that squirrel is a big enough asshole to steal my hat.  There it sits, my hat, the bait.  I dropped where it lay and made it look like an accident, like I didn’t notice it had fallen from my bag.  Wait, I see the branches moving again!  It’s not a bird.  Heavier than a bird.  It must be that God damn squirrel.

There he is; that little rodent just jumped down from the trees!  Oh my God he’s moving towards the hat!  Come on you little…come on…one more step.  That’s right.  Touch it.  Try to take it.  Try!

YES!!! 

The cage came down!  He’s trapped!  Wow he’s really making noise now.  He’s pissed off!  Hah!  How do you like it, you little shit!  OK, got my bag here…grabbing the rocket from the bag.  Deke’s special rocket.  Made it for the kids but far too powerful for regular play.  OK.  Gotta grab the little bastard now and…OH!  OH!  You shit!  You little shit!  Hold still you bastard…HA!  Inside you go.  Got you!  Got you!  Closing the hatch now.  Enjoy your Rocket Ride!  Alright…running to the launch pad now…placing the rocket.  And now…3…2…1…launch!

Hah!  It launched!!  Bye squirrel!  Bye!  I hope you like Australia!

With that, sanity returned to Tee Bone Man and the narrator returned to his job.

The rest of the week was quiet and completely uneventful.  Lots of reading, sleeping, paddling in the lake.  Catching a few fish, Tee Bone was well fed and finally relaxed.  And sunburned.  Falling asleep on the boat one afternoon left him a little red in the face, but it was truly one of the best naps he’d ever had.  He felt great!

At the end of his seven day break, Tee Bone packed his car, and prepared for the long drive home.  He gazed a moment at the Camp, and smiled looking at Devil’s Deck.  Until next time.

On the road home, Tee Bone stopped for a Tim Horton’s coffee and thought it might be nice to talk to Deke.  Let him know (for the last time) that he was right all along and a vacation was the cure.

“Hey buddy,” said Tee into his phone when Deke answered.  “I’m just calling you from a Tim’s on the highway.  Just wanted you to know vacation was great and I’m feeling refreshed.”

“That’s great man.  And I won’t hold it over your head that I was right again, as usual.”  The two friends laughed.  “Did anything interesting happen?”

“Nope,” lied Tee Bone.  “Nothing at all.  Oh, I got a sunburn.”

“Nothing else got burned?” asked Deke.  There was no answer.  “A little rocket fuel maybe?”

“Oh!  Oh!  Right,” fumbled Tee Bone as he raced to come up with a story.  “You must have noticed that on your tracker right?  Right, so you know I shot your rocket to Australia.  Well you remember that Harrison Holden kid right?  He asked me to send him something from Canada so I just, you know, BLAM!  I just rocketed it to him.”

“You sent him something by rocket?  What did you send him?” questioned Superdekes, smelling that the story he was being fed had a fishy scent.

Tee Bone swallowed.  The line was silent a moment.

“A…coin.”

“You sent him a coin by rocket??” asked Deke.

“Yeah, umm, he said he wanted to see a Canadian loonie, so,” answered Tee Bone awkwardly.

“You sent a $1 coin that you could have mailed, to Australia, by rocket, at the cost of $10,000 in fuel plus my rocket that I’m probably not getting back?”  The incredulous Deke was like Judge Judy holding court now.  It was an interrogation.

Another swallow.  “Yes,” answered Tee Bone, now sweating so much that the phone was slipping from his hands.  “Oh, shoot Deke it just started raining here, I’d better get going, talk to you soon, I’ll call you tomorrow, see you pal.”  Tee Bone hung up as quickly as he could hit the button.

He looked up to the clear blue sky and swore, “I shall never tell anyone what really happened at Camp.”

Australia.

The ground was streaked where the rocket had come to its soft landing.  Though the engine was still smoking, the rocket was motionless.  Then, it shuddered.  Again.  Now, it shook with some force until the top panel burst open.

The squirrel leaped out and gazed around his new surroundings.  The sound of Blaze Bayley poured from a distant window, catching his ear.  The squirrel headed East.

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man and Superdekes – The Story So Far

On this Canada Day, please enjoy reading the exploits of Canada’s greatest superheroes: Tee Bone Man and Superdekes!

This series of fun, clever and witty rock and roll adventures is written by a collective of creators, and you can join too!  But first, catch up on what has happened so far and what is to come.

 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN

Chapter One:  A Friend in Need (by LeBrain)

As a caravan of Southern Ontario rockers travel north through Thunder Bay, they encounter a terror like none they have ever seen before.  Far from home and out of their element, a “meaty man” and “brainiac” find themselves at the mercy of a legendary beast.  Only with the sudden arrival of two mysterious superheroes do they even stand a chance of survival!

Chapter Two:  Hell Freezes Over (by Harrison Kopp)

Devastating earthquakes threaten all humankind.  Seemingly originating from the continent of Australia, Tee Bone Man makes his way south to investigate.  Teaming up with a young “Man with the Moustache”, they soon realize the only way to stop the earthquakes and save the planet is to eradicate them right from their source — hell!  But how to get there?  Perhaps El Moustachio can help!

Chapter Three:  Hell Ain’t A Bad Place to Be (by LeBrain)

Continuing from chapter two, Tee Bone Man and El Moustachio enlist the aid of Superdekes as they battle the armies of hell!  With action scenes straight out of Tolkien, our trio of heroes must defeat orcs, demons, dragons and far worse to stop the earthquakes.  When the Man with the Moustache discovers a secret doorway, they meet the evil entity responsible.  His goals will shock you!

Chapter Four:  Tee Bone Man and the Rink of…Doom?  (by Aaron KMA)

In their strangest adventure yet, Tee Bone Man and Superdekes encounter a new foe unlike any they have dealt with before.  Is it real, or just fantasy?  Decide for yourself as Tee Bone Man wields a hockey stick instead of a guitar and tries to catch a rat!

Chapter Five:  The Super Duper Vault  (by John Snow)

This chapter takes us back on the highway to hell and its evil ruler, the great Satan himself!  Never satisfied, the terrible red one now covets something truly unique.  Sending new minions dubbed the Knights in Satan’s Service to Earth, they seek the one known as the Snowman!  For he possesses the only copy of the Super Duper Vault, featuring 666 CDs of Gene Simmons outtakes.  Satan wants it and will stop at nothing.  Sounds like a call to Tee Bone Man and Superdekes is in order!

COMING SOON!  What will happen to our heroes next?

Chapter Six:  Tee Bone Man Goes to Camp (by LeBrain)

Well overdue for a vacation, Tee Bone Man treks to camp.  But all is not as it should be.

Chapter Seven (by 80sMetalMan)

Chapter Eight (by Harrison Kopp)

Chapter Nine (by LeBrain)

Stay tuned for the adventure is only beginning!

 

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter Five: The Super Duper Vault (By John from 2Loud2OldMusic)

By John T. Snow (2Loud2OldMusic)

After the conclusion of the epic Leafs / Bruins game, the television at Deke’s Palace switched over to Breaking News.  This caused our heroes Tee Bone Man and Superdekes to perk up from their drunken scotch stupor.  As he rose, Tee Bone Man said, “I hope this isn’t something we need to be involved in, because I feel like crap”.  Superdekes responded “And you look like it too!”  Which caused Tee Bone Man to throw his empty bottle of scotch, just missing Superdekes’ head and shattering against the basement wall.

The announcer spoke.  ”Reports are coming in from around the world of robberies of famous music memorabilia, and all by an army of Demons that call themselves Knights in Satan’s Service, and yes:  they look like the members of the band Kiss.  The army has absconded with Eddie Van Halen’s Frankenstrat guitar, ZZ Top’s 1933 Ford Coupe, the Wu Tang Clan’s Once Upon a Time in Shaolin album, and even Madonna’s wedding dress from her MTV Music Awards performance, to name only a handful of what has been stolen.”

Superdekes laughed, “Who the hell would want Madonna’s wedding dress?”

Meanwhile in Hell, Satan was prancing around in Madonna’s wedding dress when one of his evil minions stormed into his office.  The minion’s jaw dropped open slamming to the floor with a thunderous thud and before he could recover, Satan turned around.  If he turned a shade a red from embarrassment we will never know due to the fact he was already red to begin with. He screamed with anger, ”Do you not know how to knock?” and with one fell swoop of his hand, the minion was incinerated.  He slammed the door shut, took off his dress and put it back with his ever-growing memorabilia collection.  He stashed it right next to his autograph of Tee Bone Man and Superdekes, which were his prized possessions up to this point.

But there was still an empty spot, and it burned at him through the back of his mind.  A special spot for the one piece that he hadn’t yet collected, and for him, it was going to be his new prized possession…after he stole it of course!  It was an item by a musician that was almost as evil as he was, almost as self-absorbed as he was, and almost as beautiful as was…nah…I made that last part up.  The prize was from none other than Gene Simmons of Kiss, and it was his most precious new collectible…The Super Duper Vault.  At over 2 storeys tall, it came with a life size robot of Gene, a pack of Kiss Kondoms, one black diamond, a useless coin with Gene’s picture engraved in it, a book with mostly pictures since his fans generally can’t read, as well as 666 CDs of unreleased music.  There is only one in the world and it cost over $10,000,000.  Only one person owns it and he is known only as “The Snowman”.

Satan called forth his demon army, Knights in Satan’s Service.  “Set forth upon the Earth and bring me back The Super Duper Vault at once.  Go to Charlotte, North Carolina and find this ‘Snowman’ character, and bring me The Super Duper Vault.  Kill him if you must as we have ‘nothing to lose’.”  With a few grunts and ack-ack’s, the demons were off!

Back in Charlotte, the Snowman was putting the finishing touches on his Super Duper Vault display.  He had to buy the house next door and gut it by removing the 2nd floor just so it would fit inside.  Of course, he had to first remove the roof, place the Super Duper Vault in the house with a crane and put the roof back on top.  But when you have crazy money and are stupid enough to spend $10,000,000 on noise, anything is possible.  Including his security system…a horde of actual living snowmen that surround the house, lightsabers in tow, ready to protect the precious Super Duper Vault.  Yes, when you have this much money you can make actual working lightsabers which had the stamp of approval from George Lucas himself.

As the Snowman exited the 2nd house, the sun seemed to disappear! Smoke began rising from all around and plumes of flames were shooting out randomly.  The snowman army quickly went on alert.  The smoke turned in to a purple haze, and out stepped Satan’s demon agents, led by an effeminate guy with a purple aura around him that made him look like Paul Stanley from Kiss.   Except he didn’t have a star over his right eye, this one had a pentagram.  He was wearing black leather pants and a dark sweater….no, wait, that’s just his chest hair!  He looked at the Snowman and his pathetic snowman army and laughed.  The demon said…”We’re gonna get this place…Hotter Than Hell”!  With that, the temperature started rising.  The snowman brigade started melting!

The Snowman scratched his head and said…”maybe an army of snowmen wasn’t the smartest thing in the world.”

Demon Paul turned to the Snowman and asked “Has anyone told you that you look like Richard Dreyfuss?”  The Snowman replied, “No, no one has ever told me that before.”  The Snowman was a silver fox with a stylish trimmed beard just like Dreyfuss.  He had more money than brains (unlike Dreyfuss who had equal amounts of both).  He always wasted his money and trivial things like over-sized collectibles.

He immediately flipped open his cellphone and dialed the emergency number to a couple of dudes he thought might be able to help.  Tee Bone Man and Superdekes!  He spoke into the phone urgently.  “Tee Bone Man and Superdekes, please come quickly!  The Knights in Satan’s Service have arrived and are trying to take my Super Duper Vault”.

After a short pause, Superdekes responded!  “Dude, don’t you have a security system to protect it?  We’re busy drinking.” He took another swig of scotch.

The Snowman answered, “Yes, I had an army of snowmen, but the demons melted them.”

Superdekes shook his head and mumbled, ”Man, what an idiot,” before responding.  “Okay, we will be right there. I’ll jump on my flying motorcycle and Tee Bone Man will just fly,” He said with a note of jealousy.  “Hang tight.”  The flying thing was still sticking in Superdekes’ craw apparently.

The demon army stepped further into the light.  There was a real evil looking one that carried an axe and his aura was red and went by the name Demon Gene.  He was dressed in body armor that was extremely dented, and sported a pair of bat wings.  There was a feline one that had a couple of small drum sticks and had a green aura.  Demon Peter’s feline face was way more vicious looking, with actual whiskers, a tail and a trail of blood seeping from his lips.  There were two with a blue aura, Demon Ace and Demon Tommy.  The first of the two walked through the smoke with a cockiness that was somehow so cool.  The second just mimicked his every move, but not cool at all. They were wearing blue and silver outfits that looked like an almost extraterrestrial material.  It did not look man made.  Both carried rocket-shooting guitars.  Finally, there was a guy with what looked like a golden cross over his face, and he wielded a guitar too. Demon Vinnie kept stepping in front of everybody like he was supposed to be in charge.  Together, they were a sight like no one had ever seen before on this Earth.

The demon army advanced shooting rockets from the guitars and the Demon Gene shot fire from his ass. The Snowman grabbed his own lightsaber and deflected many of the shots coming from the demon horde. Luckily, within minutes of making the call, Tee Bone Man and Superdekes had arrived and they arrived in style.  Tee Bone Man had his superhero suit on and his VH logo mask.  He also had a vintage Gibson strapped across his back.

Tee Bone Man came flying down and knocked the legs out from under Demon Paul.  The demon got up and screamed “Okay, now you’ve done it, I will have to pull out my Love Gun”.  And with that, Tee Bone Man whipped out his own gun, which was his guitar, and played a killer riff that laid to waste the Demon Paul.  Purple goo oozed from every orifice, and he melted into the Earth.

Only a half second behind Tee Bone Man was his trusty sidekick, Superdekes sporting a brand new Envy of None T-Shirt and blue jeans.  Superdekes’ motorcycle ran over the Demon Peter and squashed him like a bug.  But he got up and laughed it off…”Stupid human, I have 9 lives”.

Before Superdekes could respond, a burst of flames were shot at him from the Demon Gene.  Superdekes fell backwards and tripped over a randomly placed log.  He picked up the log and threw it at the Demon Gene right when he was about to shoot another burst of flames from his ass.  The log crashed right into his butt and clogged that hole and as a result, Demon Gene exploded into a million tiny demon pieces.  Superdekes did a superhero pose and said “I guess I put my log in your fireplace” as Tee Bone Man turned around and jokingly said “Burn Bitch Burn”.  The Snowman just shook his head and gave a massive groan.

The attack intensified!  The Vinnie demon with the cross looking thing on his face stepped forward and played a wailing solo on his guitar, which shot rockets at Tee Bone Man, just barely missing him.  Tee Bone Man whipped his own guitar around, and gave it right back to him and then some!  Demon Vinnie fell backwards, and then both Demon Ace and Demon Tommy jumped forward and ripped solos that sent bolts of lightning through the Snowman.  He flew through the air, crashing into his house (the first one).  He got up and said, “Man, those idiots just shocked me!”  Tee Bone Man started playing his favourite solo, “Eruption”, but he was rudely interrupted by Demon Vinnie again.  Tee Bone Man screamed, “So, you want to do another solo, huh!  Well not here pal!”  A rocket shot from his guitar, blowing up the cross-faced demon, slaughtering him once and for all.

Seconds later, Demon Peter went in for Superdekes and the Snowman.  Snowman threw Superdekes a laser pointer!  Superdekes screamed “What the Hell?”.  The Snowman yelled, “Point it in front of him. It will distract him.”  And sure enough, Demon Peter froze, saw the light and pounced on it.  Without hesitation, Superdekes moved it swiftly to the left…Demon Peter followed instinctively.  He moved it to the right and the same thing. He moved it up, down, zigzag and really fast back and forth. Sure enough, Demon Peter chased after it stupidly.  Snowman grabbed a can of CatNip and poured it all over the ground. Superdekes led Demon Peter straight to the CatNip.  Demon Peter smelled it, jumped in it, rolled around and suddenly started purring. He was so high at this point. The Snowman went over and scratched Demon Peter behind the ears and the Giant Demon cat rubbed up against him and rolled over for his belly to be rubbed.  Superdekes and The Snowman tamed the wild beast.

There were only two demons left now:  Demon Ace and Demon Tommy.  They were trading solos back and forth with Tee Bone Man, each firing rockets and lasers at each other.  The Ace demon would play a riff with so much feel, impressing the hell out of Tee Bone Man.  The other would try and copy him, but it was always too technical, lacking in heart and soul.  Suddenly, Demon Ace turned towards Demon Tommy.  Looking extremely annoyed, he blasted Demon Tommy for constantly copying everything he did.  He said, “There can be only one!  And that is the original.”

Tee Bone Man looked puzzled, but kept on pummelling Demon Ace with his solos.  Fingers flew faster and faster, and then Demon Ace started to look weary and tired.  The scotch-powered Tee Bone Man was smiling, laughing, and having the time of his life.  Finally the last remaining demon’s fingers started smoking, and he spontaneously ignited and dissolved into ashes right in front of them all.

Tee Bone Man exhaled, put down his guitar and said, “Man, now I could use a bottle of scotch!”

The Snowman replied, “I’m sorry. All I have is some Cold Gin.”.

Superdekes smiled and said, “Man, what an idiot.”

The three were suddenly startled by a massive explosion!  From the smoke, Satan himself appeared.  He froze as he saw Tee Bone Man and Superdekes standing there ready to fight.  “Woah, Woah! Hold on there guys.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

Superdekes asked “Then why are you here…do you want another autograph?”

“No, No.  Nothing like that”, Satan explained.  “I am only here to plea with the Snowman, to let me listen to the music.  It is not fair you are the only one that can hear it.”

The Snowman smiled, “Sure man!  C’mon on in and let’s crank this mother.”

Tee Bone stood in amazement.  “Once again, I have to say it.  Why didn’t he just ask first?”  He shook his head.  Satan’s gonna Satan.

Emerging from his second house with a CD player, and disc 1 of 666, the Snowman plugged in and pressed play.  He and Satan sat listening in strange silence.  Some unreadable facial expressions raced across Satan’s face, only to disappear as suddenly as they appeared.  After two and a half songs, Satan stood up and screamed. “This is pure and utter crap!  You can have it all to yourself. I’m outta here!”  And just like that Satan was gone!

Everyone laughed.  The Snowman thanked both Tee Bone Man and Superdekes for their help.  “You’re welcome Snowman, but rethink your security detail next time,” advised Superdekes.  He got on his bike, while Tee Bone Man strapped his guitar to his back preparing for flight.  But as they were getting ready to leave, Tee Bone Man turned and asked the Snowman, “Has anyone told you that you look like Richard Dreyfuss?”

NEXT TIME:  Tee Bone Man Goes to Camp!

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter Four: Tee Bone Man And The Rink Of… Doom? (By Aaron KMA)

CHAPTER FOUR:  TEE BONE MAN AND THE RINK OF… DOOM?

by Aaron

Tee Bone Man was exhausted. Going to hell will do that to a guy. Our masked hero was collapsed on a chaise lounge of rock in the basement of Deke’s Palace, drinking fine scotch with the ever-amazing hero Superdekes, his trusty partner in (repeatedly) saving the world.

Superdekes was saying something wise and interesting about Eddie Van Halen’s tapping technique on the guitar, and Tee Bone Man was trying desperately to pay attention, but he was falling asleep. Being Canadian, he naturally felt bad about being rude, but unconsciousness was very quickly gripping him despite his best intentions. What was going on? And then….

Where was he? This wasn’t Deke’s Palace. Superdekes wasn’t there. This didn’t even look like Earth… It was a vast, darkened room with a high ceiling, an echo that was only exacerbated by the cement floor. As Tee Bone Man’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of his surroundings, though, he saw a score clock, hanging from the ceiling of the room. He saw white boards with yellow dashers and thick glass around the top, with ads on them… he was standing at the hash marks of a hockey rink. In summer, clearly, because the floor was cement rather than ice.

Even though he knew he was dreaming, in that weird dream logic he also knew that this experience was completely real and his heightened super senses put his guard up immediately. His exhaustion vanished as his eyes darted around and his ears strained to pick up any noise of danger in the empty space.

Suddenly the score clock lit up, and loud music began blaring through the rink. The message on the board read Welcome To Your Doom, Tee Bone Man!, and the timer on the clock started counting down from ten minutes. Moving to the center ice circle, Tee Bone Man walked around the clock from underneath, but saw nothing of danger, no bomb, no guns, no evil henchmen. Not even a single demon to be found.  Then he heard laughter echoing around the massive space, and saw a light come on in the announcer booth above the stands at center ice. A silhouetted figure stood there, arms wide, laughing.

The music stopped and a gravelly voice came over the PA, still laughing, saying “Welcome to your demise, Tee Bone Man. You have been brought here to be decimated once and for all. There is no escape. Your time is running out, now less than nine minutes. Your end will do the world a favour!”

Facing the dark figure, Tee Bone Man struck the most awesome super hero pose ever, and said loudly “Who are you? Why are you doing this? Stop this madness at once!” The voice boomed overhead, “You know who I am, you love to hate me. I am a hero myself, but the heel of every situation. I am a friend, but also always the enemy. It is time for me to be the hero, and to do that I must end you to make way. Good bye, Tee Bone Man.” And with that the light in the announcer booth went dark, leaving Tee Bone Man alone at center ice with an inexorably ticking clock overhead.

His eyes having fully adjusted to the dark, Tee Bone Man made a quick survey of his surroundings. Nothing impeded him from free movement on the floor of the rink, so he headed towards the zamboni gate but found it locked. Quickly crossing the floor to the far side again, he headed to the team benches, hopped the boards, then climbed the shorter glass into the bleachers. Taking the stairs three at a time, he made his way up into the concourse. All the concessions were closed. Damn. A pretzel at the end of everything would’ve been nice, would’ve helped him think.

Running around the concourse to the announcer booth, Tee Bone Man was able to see the clock ticking down, now under eight minutes. As he ran, he thought about this situation. He knew it was a dream but it felt so real. Who was the figure in the announcer booth? What would he find when he got there? Rounding the last corner of the walkway, the announcer booth came into view. Tee Bone Man slowed up and started a cautious approach. No one was visible. He ducked down a few rows into the stands and approached the booth from underneath. Less than seven minutes now as he crouched and watched for any sign of movement, any booby traps or henchmen. There was nothing.

It seemed he was alone in the building. Had the figure already left? And if so, why did bad guys do this? Why construct some elaborate death trap and then leave a full ten minutes for the good guy to figure it out. And why leave, so there’s no way of confirming you’d been successful? He supposed that this was why the bad guys were always caught: they weren’t necessarily always the brightest.

Seeing no movement, he crept forward as the clock ticked past six minutes. Soon he was directly underneath the announcer booth. He carefully climbed the steps and, constantly checking his surroundings for booby traps and attack, he approached the booth. The door was locked. But now he heard a faint struggling sound behind the door. Looking around, he saw the handle of an old Sherwood hockey stick, solid wood and missing its blade, leaning against the wall. Grabbing it, with now five minutes left on the clock, he smashed the door knob with one mighty, well-aimed swing of the stick, surely a five minute major penalty so hefty was that swing. The door swung open slowly, revealing the gloomy interior of the booth.  The struggling sound got louder.

Rushing into the room, expecting a fight with the mysterious figure, Tee Bone found only a different figure, tied up, lying on the floor. Flicking on the light switch, he saw Superdekes bound and gagged, lying at his feet. Quickly undoing the bindings, our two heroes got caught up. “Thanks, Tee Bone, that was a close one.” Quickly scanning his pal for injury, Tee Bone Man asked him “What happened? Who tied you up? Why are you here? Does this feel like a dream to you too?” Rubbing his wrists to return circulation after being bound, Superdekes said “I don’t know who is doing this. I was drinking scotch and then woke up here, tied, in this dark room. I’m very glad you found me. As for being a dream, yeah, it all feels unreal somehow.” Tee Bone Man recapped his own story so far, and then the two heroes talked about next moves. There was now three and a half minutes left on the clock. They left the booth to search for clues.

With two better able to cover ground than one, they pair quickly searched the main areas of the concourse and found nothing of danger. With less than two minutes on the clock, they found themselves near the exit to the rear parking lot. Behind them was the door to the dressing rooms. “C’mon, Superdekes, we need to check here as well.” Our intrepid heroes, well aware that time was running out, crept through the door and down the hall to the team dressing room. Slowly pushing open the dressing room door, they found the light on but no one in view. Relaxing slightly, Superdekes was just turning to Tee Bone Man to say this was a dead end when wham-o, he was crosschecked from behind! Tee Bone Man swung around to face the assailant and saw a short, strong man in a black hood standing over Superdekes!

“Tee Bone Man, you found me! Your time is almost up!” Looking at a watch on his wrist the figure laughed and said “Less than a minute now!” Moving faster than he’d ever moved, Tee Bone Man sprang forward, swinging the Sherwood stick handle he’d never set down, catching the villain flatfooted with a mighty blow to the chest, sending him to the floor. Superdekes was getting up, stretching out his sore back and looking for revenge as Tee Bone Man stood over the figure. Kneeling on their assailant’s chest, Tee Bone Man snatched the black hood off the figure’s head to reveal… Brad Marchand! The evil Bruins forward, notorious rat, shit disturber and face licker, now holding up his hands in self-defense, crying now that it was all a joke and he’d meant no harm. Grabbing Marchand’s wrist, Tee Bone Man saw on the watch that the time had elapsed to zero but there’d been no explosion, no consequence at all.

Grabbing Marchand by the front of his collar and yanking hard, Tee Bone Man hauled Marchand up and, with fire in his eyes that was a look that could kill if there ever was one, shouted “What happened here? The clock’s run out, what happened? Speak, you fiend!” Marchand looked pained and fearful, repeating “Nothing! Nothing! It’s never anything! I was just trying to have some fun…” Quickly binding Marchand’s hands, our dynamic duo turned around to see police officers filling the hallway and bursting into the room. The day was saved. Marchand was taken away to serve his time, and our heroes were free to go home to try to make sense of it all.

 

Tee Bone Man started awake on the chaise lounge in Deke’s Palace. There was an empty bottle of scotch on the table, and Superdekes was just coming around as well. “Man, I had the weirdest dream, just now,” said Tee Bone Man. “You were in it, and we were in the Owen Sound rink, and…” Superdekes nodded and said “I know, I was there. I remember it all too.” They looked at each other a moment. “But that was a dream, so how…” Superdekes shook his head. “I dunno, brother, but I’m nursing a pretty good headache at the moment, and the one thing that helps with that is the good ol’ hockey game, the best game you can name…” And with that he snapped on the TV and there were the Toronto Maple Leafs facing off against the Boston Bruins! And the announcer was just saying, as they tuned in, “…and the Bruins will be without their star forward Brad Marchand tonight, out with a concussion sustained in the Bruins last game against the Rangers…”

Tee Bone Man and Superdekes started laughing, and settled in to watch the game. Tee Bone Man cracked a new bottle of scotch and Superdekes passed Tee Bone Man a pretzel.

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter Three: Hell Ain’t A Bad Place To Be

Previously…

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be” came Tee Bone’s reply. “Let’s do this”

The Australian pressed the accelerator, and with the roar of the eight-cylinder engine, the car lurched forward and began its journey towards Hell. The needle climbed with every passing second, but even with the power of Tee Bone’s Scotch coursing through it, the old Ford was not what it used to be.

The Australian began to worry. They were not going fast enough, and they would run into a turn or, worse, another car soon. He threw his head back towards the direction of Tee Bone

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it!”

“Hold on!” Tee Bone yelled back. Then he began to wind his arm around a couple times, gathering air. The supercharger roared with delight. Then he hit the loudest power chord he had ever played, and the car surged forward as the world seemed to disappear in a flash of white.

For several seconds the only sound either of the men heard was the engine in front of them. Then colour returned to their vision. The colour red.

They had made it to Hell. Now they just needed to find the source of these disturbances, stop them and get back to the real world without dying. Somehow.

CHAPTER THREE: HELL AIN’T A BAD PLACE TO BE

“How did I get into this mess?” asked the Australian to himself, hiding behind a rock. “48 hours ago, I was grooming my moustache in my room, listening to the superior Blaze Bayley…and now here I am trapped in Hell with a madman!”

The flying madman in question, dressed in tights and cape, and wielding an electric guitar, was like a whirling dervish in the middle of a hellish landscape too twisted and horrific to describe.

Yet the sound of it all was music to the mustachioed Australian’s ears.

Earlier…

The spell had worked, and the pair entered Hell. With world-rending earthquakes set to ravage the Earth, Tee Bone Man and his young accomplice sought to find the source of the seismic waves, at the very core of the underworld. Surely they did not expect the entrance to the everlasting fire be unguarded, but what they faced before them was beyond their sickest nightmares.

Staring the pair down were thousands upon thousands of monsters. Assorted ghouls from the tradition of fire and brimstone: demons, goblins, evil spirits, orcs, darkfriends, dragons, and worse. If Tolkien had crossed paths with George R.R. Martin to write the ultimate battle scene, you’d still be looking at a day at a picnic compared to what our heroic duo now stared down!

Tee Bone Man was unshaken.

“Hold this?” he asked casually of his smaller friend, handing over his trademark black Van Halen mask for safekeeping.

“This means business.” Tee Bone Man reached behind his electric guitar, and unscrewed a compartment.

“Secret stash,” he winked as he grabbed a tiny capsule. “Scotch on the rocks.”

Tee Bone Man opened the capsule and downed the noxious substance inside. Suddenly he glowed in radioactive green light as he seemed to grow two times in size.

“Listen, friend,” Tee Bone said to the Australian. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. But we’re not alone. Use this transmitter, call for help. Ask for Superdekes.” He handed the smaller man a pager-like device with a picture of an amp head on it. “We’ve opened the gates of Hell, he should be able to get in without having to do the spell over again, right?”

“Affirmative,” answered the Australian. “But the portal only stays open for one day. If you’re expecting help, help better hurry.”

Tee Bone Man winked again. “No problem for this guy. He’s inventive.”

With that, the hero grabbed his guitar, and began shredding. Lightning and flame ripped from the instrument, striking the demons and orcs charging their way. Tee Bone Man then ascended above them and dive-bombed the demons with the kind of power riffs they had never heard before. Even for hellspawn, the brain-melting power of the music was far too much to handle. Dozens at a time, the monsters were slain by the flying guitar slinger, banking to and fro in the air, dodging spears, axes and arrows.

“Take cover!” he yelled below to his friend.

Hiding behind a rock, the Australian pushed a button on the transmitter given to him by Tee Bone Man.

Somewhere in the tundra of Thunder Bay, Superdekes was fretting.

The quakes were worsening. They were worldwide. And he had not heard from his friend Tee Bone Man. Tracking him was usually routine, but this time he disappeared off the map. Not that Tee Bone Man couldn’t take care of himself, but this was the most critical adventure yet. This wasn’t just saving a bunch of southerners from a Sasquatch, this was saving the world!

A crackle on the radio.

“Come in? Tee Bone?” begged Superdekes into the microphone.

He paused and waited. “Anyone there?”

Suddenly another crackle, louder this time.

“Hello, I’m looking for Superdekes,” came a voice with a unique accent that was uncategorizable. “Come in Superdekes!”

“This is Superdekes, who’s this on Tee Bone’s radio?”

“This is Harrison Holden in Australia…well, Hell actually. Tee Bone Man and I are outnumbered and we need your help! Can you track us from this signal? The portal will only be open for 23 more hours and I don’t know if Tee Bone Man can hold them off that long!” A short pause followed and then the voice returned. “I am completely unarmed and hiding behind a rock. Not the most comfortable position to be in while being divebombed by parademons.”

“Oh boy,” said Superdekes to himself. “What did Tee Bone get himself into this time?” He pushed the button on his device again. Into the radio he spoke. “No problem kid. I can be there in a jiffy. I’ve been working on something. As for being unarmed, I got your back. Sit tight. What did you say your name was again?”

“I’m Harrison, from Australia,” the young man answered. “They call me the Man with the Moustache.”

“See you soon, Moustache Man,” answered Superdekes. He opened the door to the garage of their headquarters, Deke’s Palace.

Deke’s old black motorcycle helmet and suit hung on the wall, but the bike in the center of the room was brand new. It glimmered with a fiery red sheen, seemingly independent of the ambient light in the room. It evoked power, speed, and stealth all at once. It was a beauty.

“I was hoping to give this baby a trial run first, but duty calls. And you always gotta do your rock and roll duty.”

Superdekes opened a weapons locker, packed a couple bags, and sat atop the bike. With the push of a button, the whisper-quiet engine was engaged. Superdekes lowered the visor of his helmet and revved. The garage door opened and he rode out into the Thunder Bay arctic sun. It was frosty for August, as his breath formed clouds in front of his face.

With a sudden charge, the fire-red bike tore off, down the secret driveway onto the road.

“Here we go,” said Superdekes with a tinge of concern. He opened a control panel on the dash of his bike and flipped a toggle. As he accelerated down the road, flaps emerged from the sides of the bike, forming horizontal wings. At 160 kilometers per hour, Superdekes began to climb!

The flying motorcycle set course for the south Pacific, and Superdekes engaged the afterburners. Like the USS Enterprise going to warp speed, the bike disappeared in the air as it raced to save the world.

Wave after wave had fallen but our hero fought on!

With a stab, he impaled a hideous troll through the back with his guitar. A swing of the weapon removed the head from another. A kick to the face, and another one bit the dust. Focusing all his power, Tee Bone Man created the ultimate power chord and aimed it directly at a dragon overhead. With a thunderous cry, the mighty beast fell, unable to withstand distortion of that magnitude.

But they were getting nowhere! With young Harrison pinned down behind a rock, and Tee Bone fully engaged battling enemies, there was no way to find the source of, and stop the earthquakes.

“This is ridiculous,” said the young Australian. “I’m not hiding here behind a rock all day! I’ve got to find the source of the quakes.”

Venturing out, the man evaded the eyes of evil. He slunk along a line of rocks, using his keen Australian sense of seismic forces to triangulate the quakes. As Tee Bone Man blasted beasts overhead, the young man leaped from cover to cover, sensing he was getting closer.

A flying insectoid beasty landed right before him! It bared its fangs and approached.

“Meesa in big doo doo this time,” sighed the Australian as he prepared to defend himself hand to hand against the giant bug.

As the beasty dove at him to attack, it was distracted by a sound overhead. It looked up.

“Hey, Harrison! El Moustachio! Catch!”

The young Australian looked up and gasped at a sight he’d never seen before: a sleek flying motorcycle, slicing through the air like an arrow! Atop the flying bike, a rider in black. He tossed the young man a weapon.

A moustache-shaped weapon! A sonic boomerang!

“Thanks Superdekes!” shouted the young man with a smile on his face. He raised the moustache-shaped weapon and aimed. He’d been throwing boomerangs all his life, since Grade 1 Boomerang class at the local school. With deadly aim, he fired the weapon, which hummed with sonic cutting power. It swiftly removed an arm and two legs from the beast, leaving it Anakin-crippled in the hot sand.

“I hate sand,” mumbled Harrison Holden to himself, as the moustacherang returned to his deft hand.

Flying overhead and shredding chords, Tee Bone man saw that he had been joined by Superdekes. The tide was turning!

“Nice bike,” said Tee Bone. “When were you planning on telling me about your flying motorcycle?”

With a smirk Superdekes answered, “Since you can fly and I can’t, I was going to surprise you one day when you were on your morning scotch run. Surprise!” With that, Dekes nailed a couple flying demons with the sonic blasters attached to the wings of his bike.

Like old pros, the two formed up a position, and deftly took down a dozen or more airborne threats in one efficient strike. Below them, young Harrison Holden was tearing through a row of demons with his new favourite weapon.

“I do like this thing,” he said to no-one in particular.

Another one down, and the Australian noticed something in the rock wall dead ahead.

“Guys! This is El Moustachio,” he shouted into the transmitter. “I think I found the source. There’s a big door up ahead in the mountain face!”

Tee Bone Man looked down and saw the same thing. “I’ll clear you a path. Get to that door!” He blasted a clearing through the monsters with a supercharged solo from the Satriani book of rock.

As if on cue, the Australian bolted like Harry LaSalles towards the stone entrance. To his surprise, it opened right before his eyes! Could it be a trap? He was prepared for anything. Almost.

Harrison kept running until he entered…a beautifully decorated and lit 18th century hallway, right out of the most luxurious mansion he’d ever seen depicted. He came to a dead stop and looked around him. Paintings adored the walls; sculptures decorated the corners. There was a brightly lit room straight ahead, unguarded, and so he entered. What he saw, he could not believe. A Ming vase…a priceless Stradivarius violin…a Da Vinci sketch…a signed Gretzky rookie card…this place was beyond “millionaire” and straight into “billionaire”. What was it doing in the middle of Hell?

“Welcome, young Holden,” said a sinister voice from a dark corner, the only dark corner in the room.

“Show yourself!” demanded the young man.

“But of course,” answered the voice. On switched a light, and before him Harrison saw a red figure. Exactly as Derek Riggs had drawn him on Iron Maiden’s album covers, sat the Devil himself, comfortably in a plush chair.

“Please allow me to introduce myself, but I think you already know my name.”

“I do,” said Harrison with a lump in his throat. He certainly didn’t expect to have to face off against the great Satan all by himself. Then he remembered the transmitter in his pocket and covertly opened a channel.

“What do you want, foul one?” he said mustering all the courage he could find. “What do you want with the world? Stop your earthquakes or I’ll finish this myself!” He could not believe he was hearing himself say these things, but here he was! He felt stronger and more confident than he ever had before.

The unholiest saw through it. “You cannot hurt me, boy. But you do not have to hurt me. Let’s get to it. What I want, you have already brought with you.”

Now truly scared, Harrison answered defiantly, “Oh yeah? What’s that you evil wretch? Whatever it is, you won’t get it!”

A smile went from pointed ear to pointed ear. “I want Tee Bone Man’s autograph.”

A long pause.

“Say that again?” asked the young man.

“What I want,” said the sinister Devil, “is Tee Bone’s autograph. You see my collection here. Over there to my right, in the frame on the wall?” He pointed a long red fingernail at a record on the wall. “That’s an original. Beatles Yesterday and Today with the ‘butcher’ cover. Beautiful picture, I might add.” Lucifer paused and snickered to himself. “You know, it’s funny. All the shit that John Lennon took about being ‘bigger than Jesus’? You’re probably too young to remember that. They all said he’d be going straight to Hell for saying that. But do you see John Lennon here? No. Some of the people who swore he’d be coming here are now my neighbours, but one thing I don’t have in my collection is John Lennon.” He paused a moment, seemingly in sadness. Could a being this evil ever truly know sadness? “At least I could have Tee Bone Man’s autograph.”

A muscular figure loomed in the doorway. “If that’s what it will take to end this, then let’s talk, Devil.” Tee Bone Man, weary from the battle and covered with demon blood, entered the room. His supercharged presence lit the area even brighter. He winked at Harrison. Turning on that transmitter was a good idea.

“But why the hell — pardon the pun — why the hell didn’t you just ask me?” asked Tee Bone quite logically.

“Ask you how, exactly?” the great Satan answered. “Nobody plays records backwards anymore, there was no way to get your attention. If God can talk to people in the form of natural disasters as they claim, why can’t I?” He seemed pretty defensive, for a guy who’s supposed to be the ultimate evil.

“Listen,” the Devil started over again. “I’m not all that bad. Yes, I’ve done a lot of bad shit, but most of what goes down on Earth? That’s all you. Humans being shitty to each other. Until now, I haven’t intervened in human affairs in many years. Not since George W. Bush. He was the last one I swear. Since then, honestly, you guys have been doing a pretty good job of my work for me.”

Tee Bone Man looked down in contemplation.

“If what you say is true, then I truly have my work cut out for me up on Earth,” he said after a thought. “But dude, we just fought the armies of Mordor to get here. That was completely unnecessary!”

“It sure was awesome though, wasn’t it?” answered the demonic one.

Tee Bone sighed. It was the Devil, after all. Evil’s gonna evil.

“You can have your autograph, Lucifer.”

The Devil jumped up out of his chair and did a little dance. Just as he did, Superdekes entered the room and removed his helmet.

“Oh my God is that…did you bring…Superdekes? I thought he couldn’t fly? Sorry I’m such a big fan. Can I have his autograph too? I didn’t think there would be any way I could get both your autographs! In fact I never thought I’d ever see either of you here in Hell.” The Devil danced across the room as if on ice. He slid over to a massive bookshelf and removed his treasured autograph book.

“See? I already have a page set aside for you with your picture on it!” said the Devil to Tee Bone Man. “Sorry your picture is not in here, but I truly never expected to see Superdekes!”

“Mildy creepy, but OK. Got a pen?”

With that, pens appeared in Superdekes and Tee Bone Man’s hands.

As they signed the book, the Devil noticed young Harrison standing behind, slightly aloof.

“Come here, you,” motioned the Devil. “I want your autograph too! As far as I’m concerned, you’re part of the team now.”

With a smile, young Harrison Holden saw a pen in his hand.

“See, Tee Bone Man? What happened on that battlefield today made this young man with the moustache into a bonafide hero. The evil that I do often has a purpose.” Satan smiled from one pointed ear to the other again, his sharp teeth gleaming white.

Harrison the Hero leaned over and signed the book right under Tee Bone and Superdekes. Then he paused.

“Wait a minute,” he asked. “How do I know I didn’t just sign my soul over to you?”

Satan laughed. “Look, I may be the Devil, but the rules of contracts are very specific. For me to take your soul via a signed contract, the contract must be clear and understood by all parties. You signed my autograph book, that’s all. Look, check out page three.” The Devil magically flipped to the correct page. “That’s Elvis. And that one? Bruce Lee. You know how hard it was to get those autographs? Those guys aren’t here either. But Hitler is! I could give you a thousand numbered Hitler autographs to sell on eBay, if you want?”

“Uhhh, no thanks!” the three answered in unison.

“Then I thank you for your additions to my collection. I can’t wait to invite Adolf and Joseph to check them out! Farewell, you heroes!”

The Devil snapped his fingers and the three began to fade.

“Bye guys…” waved Harrison to the other two. They both waved back as all three disappeared, leaving the Devil alone with his new treasures.

Deke’s Palace, Thunder Bay.

The two materialized back in their old headquarters. Without a word, each took an armchair and sat, exhausted.

Long silence. An hour. Two hours.

Then Tee Bone stirred.

“Hey Superdekes. Pass the scotch? I could use a drink.”

“You got it, pal,” answered Superdekes. Their glasses clinked, a record spun, and the two friends drank. “You never got that replacement AC/DC vinyl on the Albert Productions label,” he reminded Tee Bone as an afterthought.

“Oh yeah,” said Tee Bone with a yawn. “No worries. We’ll go back and thank that Harrison Holden kid for everything one day. Then we can get you all the new vinyl you want.”

“Right on pal,” said Superdekes as the two friend clinked glasses again.

Until the next adventure!

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter Two: Hell Freezes Over (by Harrison Kopp)

CHAPTER TWO:  HELL FREEZES OVER

by Harrison Kopp

In the snowy climes of Thunder Bay, two friends sat in the basement of Deke’s Palace listening to records. The name of the establishment was a tongue-in-cheek reference to the fact that this place was most certainly not anything resembling a palace. Those that had the dubious honour of visiting the place would often claim that the only thing holding up the walls were the cockroaches. Legend even has it that Sloan actually refused to play there.

Of course, this was all in service of a very deliberate attempt to keep prying eyes away, because underneath this dilapidated structure was the well-equipped basement these two friends operated from.

As the Scotch flowed and the needle hit wax, their discussion continued.  They had just defeated a mighty sasquatch, saving some new friends from utter doom in the process. Not usually normal conversation topics for a pair of Canadian buddies, but these were not ordinary individuals.

“You know, from a distance that sasquatch kinda looked like my brother Rugg,” said the first man, the spandex-clad superhero Tee Bone Man. A devil on the guitar, he was a champion of arena rock, fine alcohol and Canadian hospitality.

“That’s true, the resemblance was uncanny,” said the second man, the reliable gentleman and (currently) regular hero known as Superdekes who assisted Tee Bone in his heroic endeavours.  “But back to the tunes.  I don’t care what that Brainiac from Southern Ontario thinks.  5150 is killer.  Sammy Hagar was no Roth, but comparisons are silly.”

Tee Bone took a moment to think.

“True, his friend, that meaty guy, seems to agree with you though.”  He paused to sip his drink.  “Drop the needle, let’s play it again.”

Superdekes leaned over the turntable.  “Just like old times man,” he proclaimed as the needle fell.

“Hellllllllllo baby!” screamed Sammy Hagar as the record started playing.

Then came a strange noise that was definitely not the opening guitar squeal to “Good Enough”. While it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the noise the two men were hearing was indeed Eddie Van Halen, it would have taken some interesting hand positions to pull it off.

Then a skip. And the record seemed to start again. “Hellllllo…Hell…Hell…Hell…”

“Uh oh” proclaimed Superdekes.  “That’s not a good sign.  That’s the danger vibes again!  Someone needs our help.”

Tee Bone turned to the nearest computer.  “You’re right.  Something’s wrong.  And it’s global this time.  It seems… earthquakes everywhere!”

Suddenly Superdekes had a hunch.

“My metal senses are tingling,” he said.  He placed AC/DC on the turntable.  Dropping the needle on “Highway to Hell”, the skipping was far more pronounced. The danger signs were clear.

“Australia is the epicenter,” said Superdekes.  “Looks like you’re on your own this time.  I’ll monitor from here and do what I can.  Why is it again that you’re the only one who can fly?”

Tee Bone grabbed the nearest guitar and donned his cape.  “You know the origin story as well as anyone, let’s not rehash it. You’re my roadie, remember?” he said with a wry smile, motioning towards the motorbike leaning against the wall. “Quite literally”.

“Har har,” came Superdekes’s reply. “You know that’s not how it goes”.

“I know, and I’m still looking for another one for you, but they don’t sell spares Dekes over at Canadian Tire. So where in Australia am I heading?  It’s not a small country you know.”

Superdekes listened carefully to the skipping record.  “I can’t pinpoint it,” he said in frustration.  “But you’re gonna need to find the Highway to Hell.”

Then he had an idea.

“Give me that guitar a minute. I think I can help narrow it down”

Tee Bone handed his guitar across, and Superdekes began tuning it. After a short time, he handed it back.

“I’ve put it in the same tuning as the danger vibes. It should react the closer you get,” Superdekes explained.

“Thanks, Super Roadie” Tee Bone replied with a smile, flying off into the sky with the guitar.

Tee Bone Flight 666 direct to Australia was pretty uneventful, other than the guitar occasionally humming as he approached the country, and soon enough he was hovering above the western city of Perth.

And he was sweating like never before. This place gave a new meaning to the word hot, and if Tee Bone didn’t know better, he’d have said that it was hotter than hell in this place. Heck, it was even hot in the shade! He was at least somewhat pleased, however, that the inhabitants hadn’t been literal when they said that everything here was trying to kill you.

Then the world began to shake underneath him. He knew it must have been another earthquake because he hadn’t had enough Scotch to affect his vision yet.

The tremor passed quickly, and he flew down to see if anyone needed his assistance. He was relieved to find that no one appeared to be hurt. But then something caught his attention. It was the sound of music. He didn’t recognise the baritone singer, but he knew good riffs whenever he heard them.

He followed it to its source: a house occupied by a moustache-clad young Australian. To go with his shoulder-length hair and moustache was a small tuft on his lower lip that completed the look.

Tee Bone silently remarked that the man’s facial hair was arranged in the shape of an arrow. He wasn’t really sure who needed directions to this man’s nostrils, but whoever they were, they had them.

Needless to say, the moustachioed man was taken rather aback by this sudden development. He was not in the habit of inviting spandex-clad superheroes into his backyard, not that he’d really had the chance too before.

But there was a sense of familiarity about the man hovering before him. Perhaps it was the Van Halen logo on his mask and enjoyment of the music, but the Australian felt like he was in the presence of a friend.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Van Halen. Can I…help you with anything by any chance?” He cautiously asked.

“Call me Tee Bone Man, and, actually, I think you can,” Tee Bone replied “I need to stop these earthquakes, and to do that I need a return ticket to hell. I’ve been told the only way to get that is through the Highway to Hell, which I’m going to need some directions to.”

The moustachioed man thought for a second.

“I know the place. There are a few slight wrinkles though,” he said. “One does not simply drive into hell. There’s a specific ritual that needs to be done”.

“Well, what is it?” came Tee Bone’s reply.

“That’s the other wrinkle,” the Australian sheepishly replied. “The ritual is said to be written on the vinyl sleeve for the AC/DC album Highway to Hell, and I…err…don’t own that album.”

Tee Bone smiled.

“Well lucky for you, I know someone who does,” and he pulled out his phone “Hey Deke, I need you to do something you’re not going to like.”

Superdekes most certainly did not like that suggestion.

“You want me to do what!? Submerge the sleeve for Highway to Hell in the vintage ’66 Scotch? Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s the only way to read the ritual process,” Tee Bone countered “We need it. I’m in Australia, I’ll buy a new copy”

This perked Deke up a little.

“Well now that you mention it, you are indeed in Australia. How’s about you pick up an original Aussie pressing for me.”

“That’s pretty rare you know, they don’t exactly grow on trees. Not that I see many trees around here anyway.”

Deke stood his ground like a bass player on stage.

“Alright, you win. We’ll get that LP for you.”

“Excellent” he said, with a slight grin “You’ll want the Albert Productions vinyl. Shouldn’t be too hard for a man of your abilities.”

“Not at all. We’ll get on it as soon as we finish up here.”

Mollified, Superdekes went to work grudgingly defacing the vinyl sleeve. Sure enough, bright red text appeared on it and, soon enough, he had the answer the two men needed.

“Alright, here it is: You need to drive down the Highway to Hell at 142 kilometres per hour*, in the chariot of death, to the tune of pure rock.”

“Great, that’s going to be a hassle”, Tee Bone grumbled.  “Thanks Deke, we’ll figure it out somehow.”

He hung up and turned back to his new Australian acquaintance.

“I’m guessing it’s been a while since there’s been any chariots around here, so I reckon we’ll need to find a regular old car that suits the criteria.”

It was the moustachioed man’s turn to smile.

“Well lucky for you, I know somewhere that will have what we’re after.”

The Clairemont car show was quite the spectacle. There were certainly vehicles that caught the notice of the two men. Shiny, chromed muscle cars abounded, but none of them had the presence the men required. Until one did, towards the very end of the building, tucked away in the back. The way it caught the attention of both men was ironic, given its black-on-black paint job, but they knew this was the machine they were after. It was difficult persuading the owner to lend it to them, but an unending bottle of Scotch courtesy of Tee Bone and a mobius strip of a guitar solo did the trick.

And so the two men drove their new ride to the site of the ritual: Canning Highway. When they arrived, Tee Bone noticed an immediate problem.

“It’s too crowded now. It would be too dangerous to try and reach those speeds with all these other cars around. We’ll have to wait until night-time.”

The moustachioed man agreed, and decided to kill the time with the Canadian man inside one of the legendary Bon Scott’s favourite haunts along the road, the Raffles Hotel.

Over the next couple of hours Tee Bone found himself treated to some of Australia’s finest Scotch, a revelation about the actual number of people called Bruce in the land, and a particularly amusing crowd interaction with one of the songs on the jukebox.

“No way. Get fucked. Fuck off!” came the crowd’s reply every time the singer asked a seemingly sincere question about seeing someone’s face again.

Tee Bone raised an eyebrow in the direction of the Australian beside him.

“Australian tradition since 1977. We can be an odd bunch sometimes.”

Tee Bone silently wondered if the heat might have had some sort of effect on the people living here, and then went back to his drink.

Eventually nightfall finally came, and the two men left the respectable drinking establishment, more than a little hydrated. As they returned to their new vehicle, Tee Bone put his hand on the moustachioed man’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve got something to help this baby hit the speeds we need.”

Resting a bottle of Scotch on the bonnet, Tee Bone played a fiery guitar solo, imbuing the alcohol with an orangey glow.

“Put this in the fuel tank to give it an extra kick” he said, handing the, now very warm, bottle of Scotch to the moustachioed man, who obliged.

Tee Bone breathed in the cool night air and casually observed the road to make sure there weren’t any cars nearby. Satisfied, he turned back to his partner.

Now having finished adding the Scotch mixture to the fuel, the moustachioed man instinctively reached for the driver’s side door, but paused, looking at the Canadian superhero next to him.

“You’d better take the wheel,” Tee Bone assured him. “You’re familiar with the road rules here, and which side of the road to drive on.”

“Right. Good point” came the Australian’s reply.

“And you haven’t just drank a tonne of Scotch,” Tee Bone continued, mounting the car, guitar in hand.

With no rear window, Tee Bone was able to situate himself atop the car, looking forward. Not only did this cut a much cooler image for anyone lucky enough to witness the coming proceedings, but it also allowed him to see any hazards as they came and react to them in time.

The Australian, meanwhile, had taken his seat on the right side of the car and took a brief moment to gather himself for the coming task. It was not going to be easy, but that wasn’t going to stop him from giving it his all. There was no turning back now. He quickly adjusted his moustache, tuned the radio to rock and keyed the ignition. The familiar hum of an internal combustion engine filled him with some warmth.

His nerves somewhat settled, he turned his head back towards the man he might end up spending the rest of his life with, if things went south here.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be” came Tee Bone’s reply. “Let’s do this”

The Australian pressed the accelerator, and with the roar of the eight-cylinder engine, the car lurched forward and began its journey towards hell. The needle climbed with every passing second, but even with the power of Tee Bone’s Scotch coursing through it, the old Ford was not what it used to be.

The Australian began to worry. They were not going fast enough, and they would run into a turn or, worse, another car soon. He threw his head back towards the direction of Tee Bone

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it!”

“Hold on!” Tee Bone yelled back. Then he began to wind his arm around a couple times, gathering air. The supercharger roared with delight. Then he hit the loudest power chord he had ever played, and the car surged forward as the world seemed to disappear in a flash of white.

For several seconds the only sound either of the men heard was the engine in front of them. Then colour returned to their vision. The colour red.

They had made it to hell. Now they just needed to find the source of these disturbances, stop them and get back to the real world without dying. Somehow.

 

 

To be continued in Chapter 3: Hell Ain’t A Bad Place To Be

 

 

* 88 miles per hour

The Adventures of Tee Bone Man – Chapter One: A Friend in Need

CHAPTER ONE:  A FRIEND IN NEED

The quiet of the north was broken by the usual morning drone of cars, trucks and the activity of the modern world.  Covered with a light dusting of snow, the grass and leaves woke from their nightly slumber.  As the frigid tundra of Thunder Bay Ontario slowly warmed in the rays of the July sun, the citizens of the city emerged to begin their daily routine.

Except this day was hardly routine.

Thunder Bay is the great Canadian crossroads.  One cannot drive from one side of the country to the other without passing through frosty Thunder Bay, the land of perpetual winter.  Other routes involve going off the beaten track, but only fools dare cross into the United States.  The level-headed travel the Trans-Canada Highway.  All roads eventually wind back to Thunder Bay.

Down the highway, came the Caravan.  They came from the warm southern reaches of the province, unprepared for the sudden July cold of Thunder Bay.  They called themselves “The Sausagefesters”, a merry band of rock and rollers who adored the taste of red meat and distorted guitars.  The Caravan powered its way through the Canadian shield, the tall majestic evergreens shading their journey.  Bound for a new music festival called Sausagefest West (an offshoot of the original southern variety), their spirits could not have been higher.  Happy songs rang as they made their way to Thunder Bay.  If only they knew the dangers that lay ahead, they would not be singing so merrily.

Their trip had started peacefully enough, but now, travelling at speed down the cold asphalt, they found themselves careening towards a dark, towering figure ahead.

“Watch out!” yelled the passenger in the lead vehicle, a big meaty man with a scruffy exterior.

“I see it!” exclaimed the driver.  “But I don’t know what I’m seeing!”

The driver, normally quite the brain, found himself frozen in shock.  For what was ahead would chill the bones of any man.  The massive figure ran towards them.

“It’s a sasquatch!” answered the meaty man.  “Swerve!”

It was too late and the beast swatted the lead vehicle like a fly.  The rest of the Caravan came to a screeching halt behind.

“Stay in your cars!  Stay in your cars!” came the chorus of voices from behind.

Unconscious, the driver hung limply from the broken window.  The meaty man got out the passenger’s side only to find the giant beast waiting for him.  Its roars nearly deafened the man, who fell back to the cold ground.  He managed to grab his phone from the snow.  Retreating, he dialled a number as the beast advanced.  It lunged again and the phone fell, hanging up the call.

He heard the phone immediately begin ringing back.

“Beth?  I hear you calling!” the man screamed trying to reach the phone.

The beast crushed it with a mighty big foot.

“I can’t come home right now,” the man whimpered as the sasquatch moved in for the killing blow.  The cars behind honked and flashed their lights trying to distract the sasquatch, but no one dared get out.

Then, suddenly, the beast looked up, his eye caught by a flash of colour.

A sound approached: a sonic boom, and then a roaring melody of distortion from the sky.

The beast began to retreat as the sound grew closer, and louder.

Like a bolt from the blue, a figure appeared overhead.  From his back he pulled an electric guitar and the sound grew deafening.  He flew towards the sasquatch.

Now truly afraid, the beast backed off, retreating to the treeline.  The guitar-wielding figure landed and ripped out a wicked solo.  With a shriek, the sasquatch ran into the woods.

The flying guitarist moved his weapon around to his back, as he leaned over to help the meaty man up.  “Here,” he said extending his hand.  The meaty man noticed that the hero wore a mask bearing a distinctly stylized “VH” logo.  He clasped the extended hand, and then as if by summoning, a motorcycle could be heard approaching, and soon rolled over the hill.

“You took quite a tumble!” the hero said with a heave-ho.

“Woah, thanks man.  I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, except covered with hair.”

The man on the motorcycle, clad in black, pulled up.  The dark rider dismounted and unlocked the compartment on the back of his bike.  The meaty man was stunned to see that it contained ice, and cans of beer.

“Drink this.  This will make you feel better.”  The rider handed a cold can of beer to the meaty man who eagerly cracked it open and sipped its nourishments.

“Thanks man,” he answered.  “My friend driving, he’s knocked out.  Can you help him?”

“Sure can!” answered the black biker.  Stepping over to the driver’s side, he checked the brainiac behind the wheel.

“Hey man, you awake?”  The driver opened his eyes.  “Here, inhale this.  This will make you feel better.”  He handed the driver some kind of heated inhalant, which revived the man immediately.

“Woah!  Thanks…what happened?” he asked in confusion.

The flying hero with guitar on his back, sauntered over.  Below the mask, he sported bright spandex and a cape with a drawing of a steak bone.  His voice boomed when he spoke.

“You guys ran into a sasquatch on the highway, a particularly nasty sasquatch.  Not your fault, we get a lot of that up here in Thunder Bay.”  The black rider nodded his head knowingly.

Feeling just as confused as before, the meaty man asked, “But who are you?  Where did you come from?  How did you know we were in trouble?”

The hero, with a kind look behind his glasses, answered simply.

“I’m Tee Bone Man.”  A crack of thunder broke overhead.  “The guy on the bike is my partner Superdekes.”

“Hey guys,” said the new arrival as he removed his sleek black helmet.  “Me and Tee Bone here are powered by the fusion of arena rock, good Scotch, and guitars.  We were sipping some drinks and rocking some Van Halen on the old turntable when we got a vibe that something bad was going down at the old current river.  We play vinyl exclusively, because those danger vibes only come through the grooves.  That’s how we knew something was up.    So I hopped on the bike — Tee Bone can fly, but I can’t, and I’m not exactly sure how that happened.”

“It’s complicated,” shushed Tee Bone.  “Origin stories can be told another time.  The point is, anywhere my fellow rockers need help, I’ll be there.  Wherever evil threatens rock and roll, I will answer to it.  Tee Bone Man stands for music, lyrics and rock and roll!  When any one of those things are in danger, you can count on me!”  He paused.  “And Superdekes too, if he’s within motorcycle riding distance!”

“We really gotta talk about the flying thing,” retorted Superdekes.

Then, there was a painfully long pregnant silence.

“Are you…are you pissing?” asked Tee Bone Man of the meaty one.

“Heh.  Yeah.  Had to go, you know.”  Zipping up, he thanked the guys once again for their help.

“No problem,” the heroes answered.  “No handshakes though.  You take care of your buddy and drive safe!  And don’t drive until that stuff wears off, give it a few hours.”

“We will!” they both answered, as Tee Bone Man lifted off.  Waving goodbye, the hero flew.  Superdekes kicked his bike into motion and was gone in mere seconds.  The two friends watched them disappear into the distance.  Their entire Caravan observed from the windows.

“Do you think that’ll be the last we’ll see of Tee Bone Man and Superdekes?” asked the driver to the meaty one.

“No way,” he answered.  “Not even if hell freezes over!”

To be continued in Chapter 2:  Hell Freezes Over…

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM