Frankenmullet

Brock lurches back and forth through the store like a man possessed, crashing into shelves and knocking them over. His eyes bulge as if he stares into the fires of Hell itself; stinking weat pours down his face and soaks his clothes.

Sara and Jasper follow him at a distance, too frightened to come any closer to the deranged man.

In one massive hand, shaking with the effects of the nigh-lethal dose of drugs coursing through his system, Brock carries a basket, full of various sundries. "Vitamin...C..." he gasps. "Lye..." Both bottles go into the basket. "B-Vitamins..lighter fluid. Olives...antifreeze... Sterno...aspirin...think, Samson, THINK, you know how to do this...hot plate...coffee pot, filters..."

He screams and clutches his chest. The veins in his face and neck bulge as he turns white as a sheet. By an act of superhuman will he forces his heart to resume a rhythm that's merely terrifyingly fast, instead of immediately deadly. "You two...s-s-stop following me and fuckin' h-h-help me..." he snarls behind him.

Sara approaches the humanoid mountain. Samson thrusts the basket at her. "No time...only explain it once. Dissolve aspirin in lighter fluid. Add the lye.."

"I can't remember this!" she yelps. "I'm not a chem-"

He grabs her shoulders--even though he's now kneeling on the floor, he's still tall enough to look her right in the eye. His eyes are wild and terrible. "NO TIME! You h-have to! Boil at 220 degrees on hot plate, add antifreeze and sterno, raise temp 300, add vitamins, boil five minutes, then strain through c-c-c-coffee filters and ma-mashed olives and bring me the cup. Hurry...please..." He clutches his chest again and falls back, his skin graying. "Hurry."

Working fast, she tries to remember his directions. Jasper watches over Samson, unsure of what to do. The massive man stares off into space, his pupils unevenly dilated. He breathes like a massive bellows, the stink of illness and swear pouring from him in waves. "Here," says Sara, coming over with a glass of murky fluid. "I have no idea what to do with this--"

Samson twitches as he tries to fish something out of his pocket and fumbles it. Jasper picks it up--it's a hypodermic needle. He pulls it out of the wrapper.

"10...10..." Samson wheezes. His left eye twitches.

Jasper gingerly takes the cup and pulls up 10 CC's of the awful-smelling fluid into the needle. Samson snatches it from his hands..and plunges it into his thigh.

For a long second, nothing happens.

Samson's back arches. He roars in pain as his eyes roll back into his head, only the whites exposed. He froths and foams as he writhes around on the floor, and the two of them are barely able to step back in time as he vomits. He roars again and again, as blood pours from his mouth and nose. His bleeding hands pound at the concrete floor, leaving bloody prints.

With a final growl he falls limp, only the whites of his eyes showing. His chest hitches as he struggles to breathe, before finally settling into a more normal rhythm. His eyes drift shut.

He lays there for several minutes, breathing slowly, his face slowly relaxing.

"Do you think he's..." Sara starts to ask. Jasper shrugs helplessly.

Jasper leans over him to check his pulse, when a hand shoots out and seizes him about the throat. He gags. Brock's eyes open, and he releases the startled man before he accidentally snaps his thin neck.

"Drink. Now," he whispers harshly. He fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. "Lighter. Where's the lighter.."

"What the hell was it that you just took?" asks Sara, as she brings him a warm beer. Samson cracks it and drains it in about three swallows. He holds out his hand in a "keep 'em comin'" gesture, and Sara obliges. Jasper rubs his throat and winces.

Six beers later, the giant stopped. "Universal antidote 2.0," he said. "Designed by OSI to take care of 82% of the ingested poisons in the world. Or eat a hole through your head, whichever comes first. Someone slipped me a concentrated dose of meth in a meat pie. Ah, crap." He clutches his temples and groans. He stares at them blearily. "We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Brock Samson, OSI. So...either of you happen to see a couple of really slow-looking teenage boys about your height? You can't miss 'em, they'd be dressed like rejects from an Archie comic. They're either running from something or playing detective. Or maybe both."

1. Brock explains.
2. "Fire in the hole!" Dean and Hank run past the store outside. Seconds later, the store is rocked by a massive explosion.
3. Josh wanders by, wearing a fruit hat and swim goggles while singing "Lola.". Brock's eyes widen as he recognizes him.
4. Sara realizes just how incredibly handsome Samson is.
5. With Brock in the lead, they go forth to look for the Venture kids, and some answers.
6. The Monarch's decapitated head rolls into the store.

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