Brett Sondare - Super Hero

[The Bloated One]

Dear All,

I am trying to create a new super hero for my 'tongue-in-cheek novel. What do you think?

All my heroes are flawed, Brett just happens to be proctophobic (you would be to if you had been abducted by aliens...all that probing) and hemophobic - and drop dead gorgeous, of course. He is given a nickname, very unkindly in my opinion, of Roger Rectum

A bit of background - Zargoths are a race of aliens that look like a cross between a moose and a sharpoi dog. Their social etiquette revolves around the passing of wind (farting).

Georgia Blade is a space pirate

Culichaun are similar to Leprechauns

Jumping is space slang for Time Travel


Brett Sondare

Lounging against the bar with a leather bomber jacket slung over one shoulder was a slab of bronze beefcake. Red chest hair exploded from his open shirt and on his head, a fur felt hat pushed back, revealed a tangle of golden hair. He flashed a lustrous smile at Georgia, downed his drink, inflated his barrel chest and sauntered over.

"’Ere comes Roger Rectu—"

"Shoosh! He’ll ‘ear yer," whispered Merv, digging Screwball hard in the ribs. The Culicaun smiled, doffed their hats and parted. As Brett walked past, Screwball released a loud rasping noise that stopped Brett in his tracks. Horrified, Brett goggled at the grinning Screwball wafting his hands theatrically behind his back. "Ah, tis better out t’an in," he said, leering at Brett.

Kerthump!

Screwball was unconscious before he hit the floor. Shocked silence and seven goldfish impersonations followed. Brett had pole axed him with a vicious karate kick.

"Abductions Anonymous is having a positive affect," said Georgia, stepping over the comatose Merv. Brett stretched out his arms and like a magnet to metal she went for them, but before she reached him, his eyes rolled back and he keeled over, collapsing to the floor.

"Okay, which one of you is bleeding?" shouted Georgia, standing with her hands on her hips glaring at the Cluricaun. They looked at each other and then at Merv whose nose was dripping blood. Georgia shook her head and knelt down to attend to the bronze slab.

"What was that all about?" whispered Tarquin.

Archie sighed. "Long story, but that’s Brett Sondare. He’s convinced aliens abducted and experimented on him during a freight trip to the outer galaxies. He’s had phobias about flatulence and blood ever since."

"Yeh, his worst nightmare is being trapped with a bleeding Zargoth in an airvator," said Dave, over hearing their conversation.

The unconscious hunk being consoled by Georgia was her inamorato. Medically discharged from the Confederation’s Air Corps, he became a freelance freighter captain specialising in transporting hazardous cargoes no one else would touch around the galaxies. He was a magnificent hunk; humanoid women would happily rinse their eyes in vinegar—if it meant a better look. They found him reassuringly empathetic to the discomfort of time travel and would lie exhausted by his side after jumping, running their fingers through his tousled rug of chest hair while dipping languidly in his blue, sparkling eyes listening to his stories about his empowering lifestyle and the many hair- raising adventures he survived.

TBO

[Peter Graham]

Happy New Year, old chap!

A couple of points of order:-

Red chest hair exploded from his open shirt and on his head, a fur felt hat pushed back, revealed a tangle of golden hair.

"Red hair exploded from his open shirt. He wore a fur-felt hat, pushed back to reveal a mane (much better than tangle for such a fellow!) of golden hair."

"Ah, tis better out t’an in," he said, leering at Brett.

If ther little fellows are speaking Oirish, you might want to lose "t'an"

"Abductions Anonymous is having a positive affect,"

effect

said Georgia, stepping over the comatose Merv. Brett stretched out his arms and like a magnet to metal she went for them,

A matter of choice, but I'd put in a full stop here.

The unconscious hunk being consoled by Georgia was her inamorato.

You're jumping out of the narrative voice here. Why not just "Georgia consoled her unconscious inamorato"?


Otherwise, another excellent piece. I've said it before, but your mix of joyful and burlesque makes for a truly engaging narrative voice.

I think you could go a bit further with Brett himself. Any self respecting action hero needs Great Teeth and Great Hair of the sort favoured by Congress hopefuls in US elections. He might also need a line in manly quips (as per James Bond), witty streams of consciousness(Beverley Hills Cop) or posturing machismo (the Hoff or Magnum PI). You could have lots of fun playing with these stereotypes, as I know that pastiche is an important element of your work.

Many of these heroes have a sidekick. If I were writing this, I'd give him a chum who follows him around and acts as his self-appointed diarist/autobiographer - Boswell to his Dr Johnson.

Regards,

Peter

[The Bloated One]

Tally ho!

Jeeves to his Wooster, with the look of the Bee Gees thrown in - Like it, will do as you suggest. A diarist - yes! Recording the improbable adventures of Brett Sondare

Two in a bed with Georgia could be a bit problematic, especially as it is a YA piece, but one should not fall at the first hurdle, I won't give up; onward, onward, ever upward......!

Happy New Year,

TBO