MORTANTÈ

It was sundown in Tutorga, a small town on Epsilus VII – a desert planet in the Evulon system. The scorching orange hue of the giant mega-sun cloaked the place in a glowing sepia toned light that burned all it touched. The place was picturesque, each building was old, wooden, cracked and damaged with closed shutters and boarded windows that creaked in the silence of the dry wasteland. The only contrast to this scene was the silhouette of a lone man blackened with the sun at his back.

"Well if it ain't Donny "Dead Man" Darnel." Came a squeeky voice from the town.

The silhouette turned towards the town. "That aint my name Stinky Joe and I don't think you wann'a know it."

Stinky Joe whimpered. "I was hopin' it was sir. See, that's the name of my H2O mechanic. Water can be scarce as hell here an' I sent for him sundown last, see?"

The silhouetted man flicked a toothpick from his mouth. And reached for the las-mag-pistol at his hip before Stinky Joe whimpered again.

"Ain't nothin' here but dust, rocks an' my herd a' bargallo cattle sir. What makes you think I'm worth trackin' down an' killin'? Why don't you come on in to my diner, I can feed ya' maybe if we break bread this don't have to get messy! Come on down sir, jus' tell me yer name an' we can start puttin' this behind us."

"I think you know my name, Stinky."

"M-m-Mortantè" Stinky Joe gasped.

Mortantè grinned through broken teeth, he'd been after Stinky Joe for a while. Around a subcycle ago he picked up the contract during a game of space poker in the pirate citadel, the man who wanted Stinky Joe dead didn't give him many details, only the promise of two-thousand zorox credits along with essential repairs to his ship. But more curiously Mortantè had been tracking another man who seemed to fit the same description he got for Stinky Joe.

"You really gunna' kill me Mortantè? Don't 'ya wanna' know what I done?"

"Nope." Replied Mortantè drawing his las-mag.

"WAIT!" Screeched Stinky Joe. "I didn't do nothin'! It's only cos I stink, see? I tried everythin' washin' in clean water, srubbin' my skin darn hard with scratchy sponges, hell, I even tried space lynx!"

Mortantè's grin widened as he paced toward Stinky Joe.

"Well ain't it a stroke 'a luck I ain't got no sense of smell Stinky Joe. You know, I didn't get much to go on but I been trackin' someone myself. Someone four foot high, wider than they is tall. Hidin' out in a small town on a small planet in a quiet system jus' like this.But he ain't called Stinky Joe."

Mortantè dragged the last four words toward Stinky Joe's bulging, terrified eyes before SNAP. In a second everything went white and Mortantè fell to the floor. He rubbed his eyes and pulled himself from the ground. In the distance a small, fat figure was riding away on a bargallo. He looked to the ground to see the smoking shell of the blinder-catridge triggered by Stinky Joe.

"DANG IT!" Mortantè snapped, making his way to the remaining bargallo grazing on the dust.  Before he knew what was happened Mortantè was in pursuit of Stinky Joe riding on the back of a bargallo.

"You'll never take me alive, space dick!" Screamed Stinky Joe, taking pot shots at Mortantè with a zap carbine sidearm.

Mortantè clung onto the tentacles on his bargallo's back, manoeuvring around the lightning, white-noise projectiles that zapped past him. Stinky Joe began to speed away into the distance.

"God darned bargallo! Why won't these twenty-somethin' legs run any faster!?" Mortantè cursed.

Stinky Joe cackled away in the distance. Mortantè tried to remember anything he could about arthropic cephalopod alien animals from his time is space mercenary camp. He latched on to a memory and focussed in and, yes! He could remember it as if Mr Scurmplepamp was right there with him.

Arthropic cephalopod alien mammals may be docile but a harsh disturbance to the genitalia will incur an unstoppable rage.

The words echoed through Morantè's mind and his eyes focussed on the large scrotum protruding from the bargallo's scalp. He quickly thumped both hands down on it like an over enthusiastic player on the hit quiz show "who wants to be a squibbionaire". The eyes of the bargallo almost popped out of their stalks as it broke into a slimy gallop and they quickly achieved a nearly unnatural speed. Mortantè and the bargallo tore through the sandy valley, leaving a titanic cloud of dust in their wake as they swiftly caught up to Stinky Joe.

"I got you now, you damned schloppian wrangler!" Shouted Mortantè.

"In your dreams... Space dick!" Stinky Joe screeched with lack of a more original insult.

Mortantè closed in towards Stinky Joe with an arm outstretched when all of a sudden his bargallo buckled and slipped sending Mortantè flying through the air. Stinky Joe laughed like a small, annoying parlogrian schoolgirl (the galaxies most annoying race of schoolgirls who laugh with a piercing tone that could pop a synthetic eardrum that has been reinforced with several kinds of alien alloy).

As Moetantè flew through the sky he reached toward the wrist control of his jet powered rocket pants. They were only designed for manoeuvring assistance on low gravity planets but here on Epsilus VII the gravity was near enough 1 G. He set an over ride on the fuel usage per boost for maximum projection and carefully angled himself in the air. A huge bang erupted from his rocket pants and he flew directly for Stinky Joe, tackling him through a dry wooden fence.

Mortantè dragged himself up and picked Stinky Joe up from the dry desert ground by his throat, lifting him above the ground as smoke poured thickly from the ventilation system for his rocket pants in his trouser legs.
"Ain't no runnin' now, Stinky Joe." Said Mortantè. "Or should I say, ain't no runnin' now, Marc Douchesack."

"I ain't never heard that name, I told you, all I do is stink, poor ol' Stinky Joe ain't done no harm to nobody!" Stinky Joe croaked.

Once again Mortantè went to draw his las-mag when the over-ridden jet from his jet powered rocket pants exploded sending shrapnel around the place, one such piece entered Mortantè's nasal passage making him cough briefly and drop Stinky Joe. Mortantè seemed disorientated for a while before looking up at Stinky Joe.

"I can... I can smell." Said Mortantè. His sense slowly came back, until he started to smell the disgusting stench of Stinky Joe's BO. He felt a little sick in his mouth. Stinky Joe looked smugly back at Mortantè.

"I told you! I ain't done nothin' I jus' stink! How could you possibly kill a man who ain't done nothin' wrong? Sure I ran! But that was jus' to save my life but now you can smell it, you can't kill an innocent man, see!" He grinned.

Mortantè swallowed the sick in his mouth but almost instantly more regurgitated back in. The smell had become more than just repulsive it was indescribable. He felt like he was being forced through a thick body of manure that had been left to it's devices for centuries, no, millennia, no, eons. The smell brought nothing but despair. It was more than just stink, no one should ever have to smell this again. Stinky Joe watched Mortantè choke and wheeze and started to stroll back toward the town.

"Good ol' Stinky Joe, 'ere to live one more day eh?" He chuckled.

When Stinky Joe was far enough away for Mortantè to become un-paralyzed by the inhuman smell he drew his las-mag, turned the dial to "Cosmic Deletion WARNING DO NOT FIRE UPON SENTIENT LIFE" and fired a laster straight through Stinky Joe, instantly turning him to ash. Mortantè sprinted back to his ship, and armed the terraforming missiles he was saving for a time when he might settle down on a small moon and set the atmosphere to high methane before firing a single laser from the ship's artillery, burning the entire planet. He watched as each piece of dust fell into the planet's molten core before triggering a singularity that destroyed everything that used to be Epsilus VII. He then proceeded to fly to the nearest galactic convenience dock to purchase an absolute abundance of space pine ships and stations single use air fresheners which he plastered all over his ship.

Mortantè later received a callout charge for an H2O mechanic called Donny "Dead Man" Darnell.