Dynamite bunched his fingers into fist and held them out, pugilist style. “Come on you rat, put up your dukes! Just try to keep up with these lightning moves. I fly like a butterfly and sting like a bee!”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” Lincoln reluctantly took a fighting stance. “Look, Blake was it? Why don’t you just stop this now? I promise I won’t think less of you if you walk away.”
“But I will!” Booth raised his fist. “In fact, I’ll think so less of you, I might not even invite you to my next birthday party.”
“You wouldn’t?” Blake sounded distraught.
“I wouldn’t, and it’s going to be a hell of a party too. There’ll be ice cream cake, and lots of balloons. And I was thinking of hiring a magician!”
“Don’t let him get to you, son,” Abe raised a hand in warning. “What are delicious confections and showy parlour tricks compared to the safety of the human race?”
“You won’t fool my boy so easily, Lincoln,” Booth sniggered. “He’s not going to fall for your little mind games, are you Blake?”
“No sir, not me!” Blake nodded.
“That’s my boy. Now get in there and show that Lincoln what you got!”
“You got it, boss!” Dynamite gave a few punches. “I’m gonna show you why they call me Dynamite. ‘Cos I blow people away!”
“Oh please, stop trying to make that into a catchphrase,” Abe groaned. “It doesn’t even make sense. That pun would only work if your name was Hurricane or Tornado or something wind-related. You should be saying ‘because I’m explosive’ or something.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s much better. Mind if I use it?”
Lincoln sighed. “Go ahead, if you must.”
“Thanks. Now watch out, because I got an explosive temper!” Dynamite threw a couple more punches.
“Can we just get this over with?” Abe rolled his eyes.
“Oh, look at you, mister full of confidence over there! Mister ‘I-don’t-know-what-I’m-up-against’! Well I hope you’re ready, you overconfident conman, because you’re going to receive my ultimate move. My finishing special. My super amazing punch of ultimate power, which no man has ever survived yet. I mean, you’re the first person I’ve tried it on, but I’m pretty sure you won’t survive it. Ok, here it comes…Super Hyper Megaton Punch!”
Dynamite ran forward, fists flaring, lungs screaming, arms flailing, running with all the strength he could muster…right smack into Lincoln’s outstretched fist. With a great thud of meat hitting metal, he fell unconscious onto the floor.
There was a short amount of silence, as protagonist and antagonist observed minor character. Finally, Booth spoke up.
“You know, I really thought he’d last longer. Not much longer, mind you, but I hoped he’d at least be able to land a punch.”
“Well, so much for your secret weapon,” Lincoln rubbed his hands, trying to remove any patheticness he might have accidentally picked up from contact with Dynamite.
“Oh, he wasn’t my secret weapon. No, good God no. You really think that I…and he…oh Lincoln, you are a card. No, my secret weapon was time, my dear soon to be departed fellow. He was just a distraction to allow us to get ever closer to the Moon, which, as I’m sure you’ll observe, is getting nice and big now.”
Lincoln looked out the observation screen (or ‘window’, as they’re often called) to see that, yes, the Moon certainly was looking worryingly big.
“Mind you, I’m not completely weaponless. I still have my trusty revolver here,” Booth pulled out the pistol from his jacket.
Abe laughed. “Oh please, not that old thing. You know I’ll just catch the bullet again.”
“I think not, Mr. Ex-President. I don’t think you can anymore. In fact, I’m willing to bet you don’t have any of your Lincoln powers anymore.”
“That’s absurd,” Lincoln tried not to sweat. “Why would you make such a foolish assumption?”
“Because if you did have your amazing powers, you would have already thwarted my evil scheme the moment you arrived. The fact that you took so long with Dynamite confirmed it. And I believe without your Lincoln powers, based on experience, a simple bullet should be all it takes. Like so.”
BANG!
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