Now What

Never was much one for long speeches and such.

So that pretty much sums up how bad ass I am. It's pretty clear that Doctor Bloodlukov doesn't have a prayer at this point. If I were him, I'd just give up now. I'd turn in my labcoat and go quietly into that good night.

Luckily, I'm not him. I'm Elias Castillo, Bountyhunter, Steam Engineer and professional Sky Pirate. (Terror of the skies, danger to myself, etc.)

Yep.

Now you'll excuse me. I have some coffee to drink.

The Spear

Dramatic angles make me look like a frelling giant

So now that you've seen my gun and my sword, it's time to show you my spear. Get your mind out of the gutter. This is serious. As serious as banana pancakes. God, I hate banana pancakes. I've got a lot of stories from back in the war about banana pancakes which would scare the pants off ya. No foolin'. Banana pancakes, man. Every time I say it I get shivers.

Even the sun thinks I'm hot. Oh yeah.

Like Leonidas had his Thermopylae, I, Elias, had my Tuolumne. I clearly remember the day that man stood on the edge of my well and yelled "this is madness!" I couldn't help myself. Right before I planted my boot in his chest, I remember yelling back: "Madness? This. . . Is. . . Sonora!" much to the chagrin of my lawyers (who are still sorting that mess out on multiple fronts.)

Pulling an E.S. Wynn: Touching your sunglasses during a shot.

The truth is, every bad ass must have a spear. You just can't be an official bad ass unless you've touched a spear at some point in your life. Take Shakespeare for example. He's probably the most bad ass bard ever to live, and why? Not because of his writing, I assure you. It's because he has a spear in his ever-loving name. Oh yeah.

Real men have tiny pockets.

But what makes this spear bad ass enough to warrant being carried by someone as bad ass as myself? Take a guess. It's made from a combat knife screwed onto and then duct taped to a mop handle. You know that you're jealous now. It just doesn't get any more bad ass than that.

Real men also stare directly at the sun without sunglasses on.





- - -

The Sword

Let me tell you about my sword.

It's been said that I move with the grace of a cat. I've even been called "Shatner-esque." That's why I carry a katana. Yeah. That's right. I'm the Kirk of the bountyhunter world without the stuttering dramatic speech. I want to live like common people. I want to do whatever common people do. That's how bad ass I am.

Yeah.

This is my sword.

So let me tell you about my sword. It's long, it's sharp, and I'm good with it. I can do tricks with my sword. I can enforce justice with my sword. I can throw it and it won't even stick in the ground. You have to thrust with it to get it to stick. That's just how swords work.

You can slice with it too!

Needless to say, swords are good at slicing. I made a sandwich with mine just this morning! Also, because it's a blade, I use it for shaving. That's how I keep such a clean cut look.

Real men shave without shaving cream.

It's also great for making some awesomely bad ass pictures. Examples of this badassery are provided below.

The Gun

Look into my eye. Fall in people, come on, let's go.

Alright, now that you know who I am and just how bad ass I am, allow me to introduce you to a few of my own little toys. Every bountyhunter needs his toolkit, and this is mine.

First up, my personal favorite. My sidearm, a gun I call "Little Whistler."

If a shotgun and a revolver had a bastard child, little whistler would be it.

I don't know what gauge exactly a paintball gun is, but that's the gauge I'm working with here. Little Whistler is a short and powerful custom piece passed down from my uncle Matt (The man they used to call "headshot" back in his days serving in Tuolumne. Now that is some mean bush. You think Venezuela was bad? It's got nothing on Tuolumne.)

Obligatory combat stance pose

It's highly accurate, has a whopping three chambers and a single barrel that can deliver a paintball at a velocity approaching 150 FPS (or thereabouts, Little Whistler's getting up there in age.) and hit targets at about 30 yards distance with enough force to leave a mark (of whatever color your paintballs are.)

That's my trusty Little Whistler. Always at my side.

Unfortunately, I'm not like Von Singer. I'm not here to sell wares. I'm here to look bad ass and tell Bloodlukov that his days are so numbered he'll have to square root them to find the answer. Or something like that. You know what I mean. Anyway, Little Whistler is not for sale. He's my trusty sidearm and just one of the little toys in my toolkit.

And it also. . . wait! What's that?

- - -

Elias Castillo

Elias Castillo: Bountyhunter, Steam Engineer and professional Sky Pirate.

Let me tell you a little about me.

First of all, I'm bad ass. You may notice that I'm missing an eye. That's bad ass. It proves that I am bad ass. You want to know how I lost it? It was totally bad ass. It was so bad ass that I can't even tell you the story because to put it into words would lessen its inherent bad-assity. Let's just say it was uber omega ultra bad ass. Knife fight with a kung-fu monkey while hanging onto the underside of an aether-powered nuclear missile at the dawn of the apocalypse and yelling "ye-haw!" level of bad-assity. Oh yeah. I am state of the bad ass art.

Oh yeah.

I am so badass that I shave with a samurai sword. So badass that when I walk the streets, kings and queens step aside. So bad ass that every woman I meet stays satisfied. So bad ass that I've got a cobra snake for a neck tie. So bad ass that my new house on the road side is made out of rattlesnake hide. So bad ass that the chimney on top is made out of human skull.

I think it's time to ask yourself: "Who do you love?"

I'm tougher than nails and meaner than barbed wire. Heaven won't take me and Hell's afraid that I'll take over. When I'm bored, I play with sharp rusty objects and juggle spools of razor fencing.

Barbed wire knows I'm boss. All I have to do is look at it and it coils itself.

I'm so bad ass that Chuck Norris runs away in tears whenever he sees my face. So think on that a while, and ask yourself: does Doctor Bloodlukov have a prayer? I don't think so.

That's it for my intro. I'm out for now. Gotta keep moving. Gonna hunt me up a mad scientist.

Besides, we can't stop here. This is Bat Country!

- - -

What's This!?

It is just over here. I call it the Bloodmassacre Extreme Ultra 'Sploder

Allow me to show you my latest invention, a creation of such evil power and destructive capability that it rivals, nay utterly outdoes any creation of Doctor Von Singer's! Ladies and gentlemen, I present. . .

. . . bzzt bzzt. . . This is Doctor Von Singer. Do not listen to the lies of Doctor Bloodlukov! He is a madman! None of his creations could ever outdo any of mine and he is by no means any handsomer. I am the most handsomest! (forgive my use of a double superlative, but in times of crisis we must make necessary sacrifices.). . .bzzt bzzt. . .

I am currently executing a plan which will unseat Doctor Bloodlukov and return my Steamworks to its rightful owner-- me. Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen, for I will be back within my Steamworks and inventing new wonders shortly! . . .bzzt. . .


Blast! Curse you Von Singer! You haven't a prayer! I'll crush you and your little dog. . . what? He hasn't got a little dog? Well curse you! I'll crush you and your little guns too, Von Singer! The Steamworks will remain mine for all time! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I taunt you and taunt you a second time as well as a third and a fourth and more!


. . .bzzt. . . Your days are numbered, Bloodlukov. When Von Singer comes to wipe your smelly hide off the face of this derned earth, I'll be right there beside him. I'll be there, and it'll be the end of the likes of you. Nobody escapes once he's found himself in the sights of Elias Castillo, Bountyhunter, Steam Engineer and professional Sky Pirate.

So sit back, Bloodlukov, and enjoy the ride. I'm coming for you, and for the moment, this video feed is all mine. . . . bzzt. . .




- - -

Further Taunting

- - -

A little fun

Von Singer thinks he is so clever, so handsome. Niet! I am so handsome and clever that a new word must be invented to describe me. I am the handcleversomest!

Just look at me with my fancy umbrella! Where is Von Singer's umbrella? Does he have one? Niet! He is, how do you say. . . lame. Only Bloodlukov is handcleversome enough to dance about with an umbrella making attractive faces to woo all who behold his handcleversomeness.

Which is why I shall make the perfect world leader.

Von Singer doesn't even have a prayer.

- - -

Von Singer's Pistols!

You've seen these little pretties before, but they are MINE now!

That's right! Invictus & Veritas, Von Singer's two most coveted handgun creations! They look quite stylish in my hands, do they not?

So stylish. Da!

Allow me to gloat for a moment longer. Yes, yes I am the man who has singlehandedly seized Von Singer's Aether & Steamworks from the good doctor in my mad quest for world domination. Now I shall taunt the good doctor a second time (or more!) Taunt! Taunt! I am invincible!

Wait! Wait a moment!

Von Singer!? Stay back!

Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen! More to come after I deal with the good doctor once and for all!

- - -

Another of my favorite toys!

Say hello to my little friend

Every mad medical practitioner, scientist, geneticist, engineer, weirdo in a labcoat needs a good, solid knife for the little jobs that require a little, how shall we say, finesse? What better for such a role than a well-crafted (and rather frightening-looking) carving knife?

I love my knife this much (and more!)

Here are a few more pictures of me with my knife, just to show how much I truly do love it. Oh indeed I do. So sharp and so sexy with its little rusty curves and its little notched tip. Ah, love.