DISCLAIMER: I do not own Logan or any other Marvel character, and I make no money from this fan fiction.

Dirty Old Man Logan


Rhonnel Ferry

Overweight, middle aged wedding dress designer, Mateo Jones checks the messages in his cellphone at Lana's Coffeehouse. It's 6pm, and he was walking home from work, when he spotted this quaint, new coffee shop. Mateo is addicted to coffee, or maybe he's addicted to the quiet, cozy ambiance of coffeehouses, or both, so he just had to stop by, get a table, and order a sugar free, nonfat Latte.

"I caught the Punisher!" the text message from his partner, Kevin, reads.

It comes with a picture of Kevin, holding up their pet kitten, Reeves, in a miniature black T-shirt with the Punisher's trademark skull logo on it.

"Aww,..." Mateo purrs.

He's in the process of texting back, when a woman yells, "You dirty old man!"

Mateo looks up in curiosity, and finds a young blond woman, maybe in her mid to late twenties, glaring right at him. He looks over his shoulder, but finds no one else there.

"Are... Are you talking to me?" he asks confusedly.

"Yea, I'm talking to you!" she shrieks. "I saw you taking pictures of me with that phone!"

"WHAT?! NO! I was just texting-!"

He's about to prove it by showing her his phone, when he notices the angry faces of the other patrons staring at him.

"Oh shit," he thinks to himself. "I'm an old, short, fat dude. She's a young, hot damsel. Who are they gonna believe?!"

He lowers his head, and quickly walks out the door.


Several minutes later, walking in a dark, empty road occasionally lit by street lamps towards his home, Mateo's fear begins to subside, and it gets replaced by boiling anger.

"Who does that bitch think she is?!" he snarls out loud, on the very verge of tears. "She must think she's so pretty to talk to people like that!"

He's insulted, embarrassed, and hurt. All he wants to do now is bury his face in Kevin's chest, and cry in his lover's arms.

Then he gets the feeling that he's being watched. He turns around, and finds a woman's slim figure silhouetted by the dull light from a street lamp above. It's the same girl from the coffeehouse!

"You!" he shrieks, pointing an angrily shaking finger at her. "What the hell do you want?!"

Then a thick, muscular arm suddenly locks around his neck from behind! Mateo gasps! His eyes bulge out! He wants to scream but the sound gets trapped in his throat, along with what little air he has left. The arm tightens around his neck. Mateo frantically struggles, kicking with his feet, clawing at the arm! But he is unable to escape.

"You disgusting pervert!" the girl spits at his face. "You're getting just what you deserve! You're never going to harass another girl again!"

Mateo desperately tries to take in air, but he can't. He just makes wheezing noises. He begins to feel dizzy. His arms and legs slacken.


That was about a week ago. I wasn't there. I read about it in the tabloids. Stuff that wasn't in the paper, I filled in with assumptions and a little imagination. Didn't even make the front page. DIRTY OLD MAN MURDERED. That was the headline. Nobody gives a shit when some old pervert gets killed. Including the cops. Mateo's body was found by the side of the road. The cause of death was asphyxiation. His wallet and phone had been taken.

The people at Lana's Coffeehouse remembered him. They told the cops that he was secretly taking photos of an attractive office girl, and that he got what he deserved. Cops figure it was a mugger, or maybe the girl's boyfriend, or maybe even one of the patrons. They're not sure. They couldn't find the girl in question. Not that they made much of an effort to look for her.

His distraught partner, Kevin Williams swears Mateo would never do the things that girl accused him of. But with the phone missing, I guess we'll never know.

I suppose the case could get solved, if say, a superhero were to take an interest. Problem is, there are no superheroes anymore. Myself included. They're all dead. And I just stopped caring. What do I do now? Well, I drive a limo to get by. But most of the time, this is what I do. Read the paper while drinking beer in cheap watering holes. Thank God the healing factor isn't what it used to be! Makes it a lot easier and a whole lot cheaper to get sauced.

"You dirty old man!" I hear some chick yell at me from somewhere to my right. "I saw you ogling me! Don't deny it! I-!"

"Go fuck yourself," I casually tell her, without taking my eyes of the paper.

Then I turn to the funny pages, and raise the bottle to my lips for another sip.

I can see the girl from the corner of my eye, quietly standing there, slack-jawed. She's a pretty girl. Guess she's not used to people dismissing her like that. Then she turns, and walks out the door. I order another bottle, and finish my paper in silence.


The tavern's not far from where I live, so I don't bother bringing the Chrysler. With the paper tucked under my arm, I walk home. It's a good night for a walk, I guess. Quiet, not too chilly. Can hear a police, fire truck, or ambulance siren from somewhere far away. Been hearing more and more sirens these days.

Then I see her standing under the light of a lamp post. The same girl from the bar. I suppose she's expecting an apology. She's not gonna get one. I've done worse things in my life that I ain't sorry for.

I'm about to walk by her, when my heightened olfactory senses pick up the scent of something...weird coming from behind me. And then my experience warns me of danger!

I dive out of the way, just in time to avoid getting caught by a pair of inhumanly long, large arms! I roll on the ground, spring back to my feet, and turn!

The thing that tried to grab me is a seven foot tall monstrosity! It's shaped like a hairless gorilla, has pitch black skin, and is almost completely featureless save for a pair of glowing eyes, and rows of razor sharp teeth!

With a roar, it swings one of those elongated limbs at me! I duck underneath it, and punch him just under the ribs! No bones to protect your internal organs there. It especially hurts if the guy punching you has knuckle bones laced in indestructible metal like I do!

But this son of a bitch seems to be covered in muscle! Punching him is like punching a rock covered in a damp rag. It's a weird description, but that's the closest comparison I can make. He doesn't seem discomforted by my attack at all!

He swings the arm back, and this time, I'm not fast enough to avoid it. I get smacked right upside the head! The bastard is so strong, my entire body gets catapulted several feet away. My back hits the ground hard, completely knocking the wind out of me!

Groaning, I slowly turn over to my belly to push myself up. I'm up to one knee, when the thing puts me in a tight choke-hold! I gasp for air! It's like being constricted by a cobra! I grab at his forearm with both hands, and try to break free! No good. He's too strong. I start elbowing the monster in its stomach. It proved just about as effective an attack as the punch earlier. This thing can't be hurt!

The blond girl starts skipping towards me. There's a wide, cruel smile on her face. She bends down, stares me in the eyes, and taunts me.

"You disgusting pervert," she hisses sadistically. "You're getting just what you deserve. You're never going to leer at another girl again."

I might just suffocate to death right here and now. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let her laugh at my face and badmouth me while it happens!


It's the metallic sound of six 7 inch metal claws extending through my fists! I swing my right arm upward, and rip out the entire left side of her face!

She staggers back. At first, she just stands there in quiet shock, as blood trickles all over her white blouse. Then she presses her hand to where her left eye used to be, and she starts wailing like a banshee!

To my relief and surprise, the black creature releases me! I quickly inhale, and get some much needed oxygen back into my starved lungs! When I turn around, I see that the monster is also howling in pain, clutching the left side of its face.

Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

I leap at the girl, and thrust all six claws into her chest! She gasps, staring down in disbelief at the metal blades that have impaled her!

I retract the claws, and step out of the way, letting her fall forward. Her blood quickly pools under her. I look back at the dark monster. He's lying flat on his stomach also. He reaches for her with one of those grotesque, long arms. Moaning in pain, she does the same. They start slowly crawling towards each other.

Some merciful part of me wants to help them. You know, let them hold hands one last time before they kick the bucket. But I don't know what they are. What if holding hands is just what they need to heal their injuries? Then I'm screwed all over again.

I poise my right fist just above the back of the girl's skull. The monster groans, like it's begging me to spare her life. But I don't speak monster, so I can't be sure.

I pop the claws into her brain, killing her instantly.

When I look back at the gorilla like creature, it's gone, leaving only an impression of its shape on the ground, like a black chalk outline for dead people.

I retract the claws into my forearm, turn around, and continue the walk home. I rub my neck. That's gonna leave a bruise. Until the healing factor fixes it anyway.

I don't know what that thing was. I don't know what SHE was. And I don't care. I suppose I should tell Kevin Williams about it, to give him closure. But I wont, because I don't care about that either.

I'm too old to care about anything anymore.