H-F-H Issue Number (1) "Hail Hired-ra!"

Henchmen-For-Hire; Issue Number 1 ($1.99)
"Hail Hired-ra!"

>You ever get the feeling that it's going to be another one of those days?
>You know, the kind of days where everything goes bad.
>The ones that make you think... 'Hey, maybe getting out of bed and going to work today WASN'T such a good idea after all."
>You might be having one of those.
>SMACK!
>Thwip-thwip!
>POW!
>And as you are stuck to the side of your get away van by some woman dressed like a character from a cage match you saw on T.V. once, you come to realize...
>Yeah, I think I might be having one of those days.
>The cocky web-slinger casually leans against the side of the van you are currently stuck to and looks over situation
>You can already feel the condescending attitude seeping through her suit and into your very soul as she says
>"Sorry about ending your little bank robbery fellas."
>Sure you are.
>"But instead of gold here's something that I think everyone can take away from this encounter-"
>God damn it, here comes the stupid superhero pun.
>"-and that's a lesson. The lesson being, Crime-"
>She takes the bag of valuables off of your shoulder without you being able to resist her at all
>"Doesn't pay!~"
>You audibly sigh while your comrades in crime, the ones that are still conscious, give off varying groans of displeasure.
>However you have the most fortuitous situation of being completely unharmed, and have only your limbs trapped in an immovable material
>leaving your mouth free to voice your displeasure
"That was fucking lame."
>The web-head who had begun to walk away from you suddenly turns around and places her hands on her hips in an agitated manner
>"Ha, like a low level crony stuck to his candy van can say anything about being lame!"
>The sounds of first responder and police sirens begin growing louder in the distance quickly overpowering the sound of the bank's alarm system
>"Well I think the police can handle things from here. Be sure to say 'hi' to Bubba for me!"
>With that Spiderwoman zips off into the streets, leaving you and your felonious friends to your federal fate.
>Why does your life have to be so cliché?
>And why do the henchmen always have to take the fall?
>You guys do all the hard work!
>You have to build the secret bases, you have to secure the funding, you have to do the cooking, the cleaning, the maintenance, the book keeping, the hauling, the lifting, the driving, the flying, and everything else you can think of and you get NONE of the credit unless the whole plan is ruined!
>When that happens you take the fall and the head honchos either escape or break out of jail moments after!
>The police arrive and eventually pry you off from the side of the vehicle only to put you in cuffs moments later
>"Honestly, I don't know why you criminal scum even try to get away with it."
"You know what Officer? I don't either."
>The pig sets you down in the back seat of his car with a huff
>"Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about it downtown!"
>He closes the door with a 'thud' just in time to muffle your retort
"CANT ANYONE USE AN ORIGINAL LINE IN THIS GOOD FOR NOTHING CITY?!"
>From your view in the window of the cop car you can see, just vaguely, on the side of a post, a small paper sign.
>And on that sign it reads 'Henchmen-For-Hire! Looking to turn your life around or just try something different? Give us a call at (555)-555-5555! Satisfaction Guaranteed or your money (and time) back!"
>That last part gets you to raise an eyebrow.
"-or your money and TIME back?"
>Fuck it.
>At least now you have a reason to use your one phone call.
>As the cop steps into the driver’s seat and begins down the road, that posting is all you can think about.

>The process of being arrested and locked up is a relatively simple one
>You sign a few papers, while the police verify your identity and take your statement
>Not that your statement really matters to them
>Since superheroes have become a staple of this community, when police arrive to an attempted crime scene and see webs or other superhero involvement you're more or less in the doghouse before any investigation is done
>Because of this the time between arrival and your one phone call is very expedient.
>"Alright buddy, you're turn for the line."
>The door to the holding cell is slid open by an obvious duo of desk officers.
>One of them is a stout and short fellow with a graying hairline and mustache and body that screams "Diabetes" while the other looks like he is tall and lanky enough to hide behind a flagpole if he really felt the need to.
>You don't even bother looking up at the guy to get a good view of his facial features as his chest and waist is probably more recognizable than his face will ever be.
>Officer Brimley, as you will be referring to him as, leads you over to a payphone station tucked away in the corner of the station and cuffs you to it
>Why? Who knows?
>Maybe he thinks you'll try to run out the door leading to the station filled with police officers.
>But honestly it wouldn't even be worth the effort.
>"Alright pal, here's your phone call. I'd suggest a darn good lawyer."
"Oh I shouldn't waste a phone call? Wow, here I thought I’d just call up to Donnas and order us a Donnas Dozen to show my appreciation to the “oh so competent and intelligent” members of the Canterlot Police Department."
>The taller officer, who you decided on calling Stilts, places a hand on your shoulder
>"Alright enough of the sass, make your call."
"Okay fine-fine."
>Your hand moves forward and you punch in the numerical digits with your own.
>Placing the phone up to your ear the sound of ringing graces them
>brrring
>brrring
>brrring
>"Hello, this is the Henchmen-For-Hire hotline. My name is Mint Condition, how can I help you?"
"Hey Mint, My name is-"
>Officer Stilts blows his nose into a handkerchief just behind you
"Hey, I'm on the phone here, could you do that someplace else please? Thank you."
>Stilts takes a few steps back away from the phone with a short apology and you go back to your conversation
"-and I saw your flyer yesterday while I was 'at work' and I was interested in applying for a job."
>"Well you're in luck sir! There are always jobs available no matter the situation you find yourself in."
>Hey~ how cool is that?
"So what do I need to do to apply?"
>"Well sir, since we already have your name that's everything we need! Be sure to commit this number to memory, as it will be the only way to contact us if you want to change your mind again."
>What?
>That's all?
"I'm sorry, what do you mean that's all you need?"
>...
"Hello?"
>The other end of the line is utterly silent
>There wasn't even the sound of a disconnect or one of a physical hang-up
>Just silence, like the connection just decided to end itself on its own accord
"Just my luck. All the shit I've gone through today and now my one phone call just cuts out!"
>You slam the phone down on its hook with a 'CLACK' as someone speaks up from behind you
>"Alright man, come on we need to use the phone too ya know."
>You sigh and step aside
"Yeah-yeah, alright. It's all yours."
>Defeated, you go back to your seat in the break room chair and take a sip of your now room temperature coffee.
>Wait, weren't you handcuffed to a phone at a police station just a second ago?
>It's about halfway through the sip of coffee that your brain catches up with the rest of you-
"PPPPFFFFFFFF!"
>-and sprays said 'Cup-o-Joe' all over the table,
>Various coworkers to break out into spontaneous laughter at the sight causing you to do a double take of this sudden development
>You nervously dart your eyes around the room taking in everything as quickly as you can
>Everyone is dressed in some weird green jumpsuit with matching yellow gloves, belt, and tactical vest combo.
>They all look completely ridiculous!
>It doesn't take you long to realize that you, yourself are wearing the same yellow and lime green uniform as they are.
>Your hands quickly dig into each of the pockets and pouches and you pull out an ID card.
>It's set up more or less like a driver’s license with your name, date of birth, and eye color printed on it along with a photo of yourself and an Identification number plastered along the top
"Holy crap... I'm working for Hydra?"

>just then a  very friendly sounding "bing-bong-bong" comes on over the speaker systems
>"Ah hem, attention all off duty and labor related employees. Please report to the loading area. I say again, all of duty and labor related employees, please report to the loading area. Thank you and Hail Hydra."
>Everyone around you forces out a very unenthusiastic "Hail Hyrda" followed quickly by groans of disappointment
>They begin to file out of the break room and you follow suit listening in on the group conversation that manifests
>"What do you think we're going to be loading or unloading this time?"
>"Some more uranium or weaponized space technology probably."
>"I swear if it wasn't for the decent pay and free housing id be out of this gig. What about you Anon?"
>Oh shit, that's right. You probably are supposed to know these people.
>Fortunately for you the person attempting to talk to you is looking at someone else
>The person in question eventually sees that he is the one being spoken to and responds in confusion
>"What? I'm not Anon. I'm Jerry."
>"Jerry?" he points back to you "I thought he was Jerry."
"Nope, I'm Anon."
>"Why even have us wear these dumb uniforms if we cant tell who's who in them?!"
>The conversation dies down and nobody you are supposed to know tries to talk to you again
>Instead to pass the time you look around the halls at the "motivational" posters
>Posters like 'Remember there is no I in Hydra!' and 'World Domination has its benefits!' can be found every few dozen feet each with their own semi-comedic graphic to lighten the work day mood.
>Finally you arrive at a large vehicle bay where a similarly dressed henchman with a clipboard is waiting for everyone
>"AH very good ve are all here!"
>HA! what a terrible German accent.
>He's probably a British guy.
>"Okay, Today were are going to be setting up an ambush for Herr Armor's inevitable intervention into our plans."
"Are you being serious right now?"
>Did this guy honestly just call a bunch of people from the break room to be your 'evil ambush' team?
>"Of course I am, now you three gentlemen-"
>While you stand there dumbfounded at everyone's silent acceptance of this, Clipboard guy hands out instructions to everyone on pamphlets.
>You receive yours last and everyone else begins to disperse, climbing on top of and behind boxes, looking for ladders to get up onto the higher levels, and doing their best to hide in the dark corners in their bright green and yellow outfits.
>This is crazy... but whatever, its your job you guess.
>You look down at the pamphlet and read it
>The 'Top secret Hyrda Ambush plan' might as well have been written in crayon all that's inside are three steps with accompanying pictures
>Step 1: Turn off the lights and find a place out of the way to hide, preferably one where you can see the center most part of the room.
>Step 2: Remain silent and wait for Captain Shining Armor (and any possible company) to enter into the center of the room.
>and finally Step 3: Once the captain has entered into the center of the room turn the lights back on and wait patiently for (insert higher up or other contracted villain here) to give and introductory speech. Then commence your attack on their command.
>The sound of clipboard guy's voice echos from behind a parked van stashed away in the corner of the area
>"Anonymous! Stop standing there like a imbecile and find your hiding place!"
>You shout back to him
"Sir, is this really our plan?!"
>He pokes his head out from his hiding spot
>"Yes! It is!"
"Okay but like... What if he comes in from a different door?-"
>You wave the page towards the only door that leads outside in the room
"What way do we have to know they will be coming in from this exact entrance?! aren't there like dozens of ways in?!"
>"If they decide to come in from a different door, then we simply will get up and move to that one! Why do you think we keep the plan so simple?!"
>Huh, that actually kinda makes sense.
>You manage to position yourself underneath the fork a forklift truck just as they turn off the lights to the room
>'CLUNK'
>everything is pitch black and quiet aside from the occasional cough or sneeze from any of the odd three dozen henchmen.
>now you just sit here and wait...
>...
>...
"This is stupid"
>"Shut up!"