Kayfabe Comics


"Who Killed Katie Vick?"

Previously: After Eric Bischoff legalized gambling in the city of New York, he celebrated by opening a casino, which was promptly crashed by most of the cities superheroes. It was after this that Triple H, self-proclaimed hero of the people, accused the mysterious man monster known as Kane of murder. Meanwhile Booker T, having been jailed for attacking Chris Jericho, had his bail posted by none other than Jericho's partner in crime Christian, who was waiting for him with a small army of thugs outside…

NYC-present day


            The crowd of reporters was surprisingly silent as Triple H strode out before them and stood behind the podium, the sun reflecting brightly off of the large gold belt that was the source of his power.

            "Greetings my fellow citizens" he said with a somber tone, "As you know, the incident of last night made me think back to a cold case I've been working on, and after the actions of last night, it now leaves me with no doubt what so ever that Kane is the culprit."

            Jerry Lawler, decked out in a nausea inducing purple sport coat with little crowns on it, raised his hand. "Sir, can you give us more on the victim?"

Triple H sighed, and picked up a glossy photo of a young woman. "The victim's name was Katie Vick. Her life was taken before it's time and I promise you my citizens, that I will risk everything necessary that Kane will be brought back here for trial!"


            Eric Bischoff rubbed the bridge of his nose as he watched the press conference. "Damn trouble maker…" he muttered as he flipped the set off with disgust. The sound of the door opening made him look up. "Ah, Miss Keibler" he started as he hand brushed up against a large stack of papers, sending them crashing to the floor. "Oops, how clumsy of me, would you mind?"


Stacy sighed as she bent over and retrieved the files. She was slightly amused to hear the mayor mutter: "why can't she forget just once?" and made a silent promise to herself to take the first job available…


In a slightly shabby Greenwich apartment

            Shane Helms, otherwise known as the Hurricane, sat in stunned silence as he watched the newscast. "I don't believe it!" he said to himself as he heard a heavy thump behind him.

            Turning around, he was surprised to see none other than Kane himself standing before him. "He lies"

"I'm sure of it good friend, but we need to prove you've not guilty." He said as he picked up his phone. "I can call a friend of mine; we can set up a interview and you can say your piece!"

Kane looked back at the smaller man, his face unreadable behind the mask that covered his features. "Ok" he slowly drawled as he seemingly melted back into the shadows.

Looking up to see that he was the only one in the room, Shane muttered to himself: "How does he do that?"

In the part dubbed 'the Bowery'

As the saying goes, criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot. That is not some scribbled nonsense thought by some hack pulp writer, but fact. Of course, the cause for this attitude is hardly known (at least to the public) and the being in question would prefer to keep it that way. Surrounded by televisions, radios and other forms of electronic equipment, the man known only as 'Raven' was currently soaking up the latest announcement from Triple H.

            "Hmm, most curious" he mused as he turned his attention to other TV, this one showing reporter Jim Ross, his rotund features near totally obscured by a comically large ten gallon cowboy hat. Pressing a button on a cobbled together remote, Raven was plunged into darkness as the all the TV's were turned off. "I could use this to my advantage" 


            In a section known as 'Dudley-ville'

The Dudley boys, one of the most feared gangs on the east coast, sat around the scratched up radio and listened to the broadcast. "What a bunch of bull" Bubba Ray, unofficial leader snorted as he shut the radio down.

"Brothers, this is indeed a sign" D-von exclaimed as he crossed himself. "Yeah, a sign that Triple H is talking out of his ass. We need to find Kane before he does."

The assembled gang members shouted in unison at the statement. "Spike, you monitor the police band. Anything shows up, you let us know, ok?" Bubba Ray asked the youngest member of the gang.

"Now let's go bring some havoc"


            The desk sergeant blinked as he saw the stranger enter the station. The man was decked out in a blond Prince Valliant wig, gold and black face paint and a so bright it was almost blinding gold suit.

            "Yes, I'm hear to pay the bail for a Mr. Huffman" the stranger said as he held a large wad of cash in his hand.

The sergeant managed to teat his gaze away from the stranger long enough to punch in a few numbers on a older phone perched on the desk. After listening to the other voice for a few seconds, he hanged up and looked again at the stranger. "I'm sorry, but you're, ah, friend isn't here. His bail got paid last night. Have a good day." He said quickly as he turned his attention to his paperwork..

            As the gold man left, the sergeant quickly pulled out a cell phone and hurriedly punched in another number. "Yeah, it's Station house 9, he was hear, asking about his friend. I know, just tell the Big Boss Man that everything is going to plan".


            Booker T, leaning up against a bus-top for support as he wiped his bloody brow, scrounged through his pockets for change. "Damn suckers jumped me" he cursed as he used a torn off piece of his shirt to stop the blood flow form his nose.

            The images of Christian leering over him as he was beaten was still fresh in his mind, as were the man's parting words:

"Nothing personal dude."

"Nothing personal my ass" he thought as he managed to extract the proper amount of change out of his pockets and slump his way to a nearby payphone.

            As the dial tone quickly gave way to the answering machine, Booker T hung up. "Now where could that fool be?" as he decided that it would be better to wait for a bus rather than stand up and open up any old wounds. "Jericho is using his music to try and brainwash people, but how can I stop him?" he thought as he spied an advertisement for Regal Industries.

"Hmm, maybe I'll find some answers there"


In a penthouse in Manhattan

Triple H moaned the nude woman massaged his back. "I see you're busy as ever" he heard a familiar male voice say behind him. Without even bothering to look up, he waved the woman away as he sat up. "Ric, my man, you need to relax. With all this mess up over Kane, we can tighten out hold on the city."

Ric Flair, former mayor and now current confidant to the villain, shook his head. "Champ, this is dangerous" he managed to say before the wall caved in.

"LIAR!" roared Kane as he stepped into the sauna. "You got some nerve" Triple H said seconds before the Big Red Machine effortlessly picked the man up and slammed him to the hot rocks.

Turning his attention towards Flair, Kane growled, his voice sounding like a muffler being dragged on hot asphalt. Flair raised both his hands and shook his head as he spied Triple H getting up and putting his belt on.

Kane grabbed the ex-politician, ignoring the man's pleas for mercy. As his hands clutched the older man's jacket, he was unaware of the footsteps behind him.

"Surprise" Triple H smirked as he hefted the large wooden table over his head and slammed it down onto Kane's back, sending the larger man down. He picked the table up again, and slammed it down again.

And again

And again

And again

"Champ, I think he's down." Flair wheezed as he picked himself up. "You're right" Trip grinned despite his pain. "I think we need to call another press conference."

            Walking out of the room, Flair spoke up as he dusted himself off. "I think we may need to get some more people in on this."

"Already ahead of you Ric, I got a plan"

But while the two men were conversing, they failed to notice that Kane was no longer there.

"Hey, what happened?" Flair shouted as he turned to see the now empty sauna. Trip simply waved the whole thing away as he grabbed his coat. "Not a problem. We don't need him for what I've got planned."


Triple H, his face bandaged and his arm in a sling, once again stood in front of a podium as he addressed the press corp. and showed more photos of Kane. "Citizens, I now know, beyond all shadow of a doubt, that Kane is the killer. After making my statement yesterday, I was attacked in my own home. If not for the timely intervention of former mayor Flair, I may not be here today. But there is more to it than that; I did more research and I was disgusted to find that Katie Vick was not murdered, but also the victim of sexual assault"

At that point, the Hurricane turned the TV off. "Holy frame-up, now this going too far" he said as he dialed his phone. "Terri, we need to talk, usual place" he said, unaware that at the exact moment…


            Bischoff grinned as he heard the details being spilled over the speakerphone. "I will have to thank the Boss man for setting up that bug. Looks like I'll have the cat in the bag by tonight." He thought smugly as he too was unaware that at the exact same moment…


"And you're not the only one with access to equipment" Trip thought as he wrote down what he heard. "I'll can't risk Kane speaking!" he thought as he started to dial another phone


Coney Island-night

            Terri Runnels, who always did everything possible for a story, cursed her own motto as she rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to stay warm. "Holy freezer-burn, I hope I didn't keep you waiting" she heard a familiar voice say above her.

Looking up, she saw the Hurricane suspended in midair looking down at her. "All right hero, where's the story?" she asked.

"Right here" she heard a voice behind her, almost making her jump out of her skin. Turning around, she saw the monstrous form of Kane standing over her.

Fumbling for her recorder, she quickly pressed 'record' and held it in front of her. "Okay big guy, it's your time."

Kane looked down and began.

            "I don't know the name of Vick, but I knew the face. She was just some girl I saw die during the time when Degeneration-X broke up. Triple H tried to kill Shawn Michaels by a drive-by. I was hiding in the shadows when I saw her die."

Meanwhile, hidden in the support structure of the Cyclone

            "Come on and turn around you freak!" Molly Holly hissed as she looked at the following scene through her scope. Taking her finger off of the trigger, She leaned back until she could feel the wooden structure against her jacket. "This is going nowhere. No reward is worth this much hassle" she groused as she tore her rifle apart and began the decent down.

But while the trio had lucked out and escaped one danger, as the saying goes: 'out of the frying pan and into the fire'

Sudden light and a booming over a bullhorn then blinded the three. "This is police, we have the area surround!"

Kane, with nary a growl, ran towards the assembled lawmen with hate in his eyes.

"Holy set up!" the Hurricane exclaimed as he flew down. "Terri-Ms Runnels, you have to get out of here and get that tape out to the public!"

            Without even looking back, he took off after his partner, leaving Terri to run like a banshee towards the relative safety of her car.

            "Oh man" Officer Maven Huffman thought as he saw Kane shrug off of the rubber bullets like they were nothing and pick up a nearby squad car. Grabbing his radio, he fought to keep his cool as he saw Kane getting closer and closer. "This is car 92, we need more back-up!" he hollered as Kane then decided to turn his unearthly attention towards his car.

Maven, having decided to get himself into a much safer line of work, leapt from the car moments before it was picked up and tossed down the midway.


Steven Richards groaned in dismay as he saw the damage unfolding before him. "Nuts to this! If Raven wants this guy so badly he can get him himself!" he shouted as he made a beeline towards anyplace that didn't have giant men dressed in red tossing cars around like paperweights.

Sadly for him, one of the airborne automobiles landed directly in front of him, missing him by a good five inches.

As he scrambled backwards to avoid being crushed, his shoe began stuck on a large wad gum, and he was held fast as the car fell over on him.

But fate is strange, as there just so happened to be a preexisting hole in the roof, so it was Steven quickly found himself in the backseat, rather than crushed beneath it.

"I'm alive!" exclaimed, unaware of the second police cruiser mere seconds away from impacting with the car…


            "Kane!" the Hurricane yelled as he tried to get his erstwhile friend. "You don't have to do this!" he cried as the police officers decided that a hasty retreat would be the wisest course of action.

            Kane said nothing as he looked around at his handiwork. Almost all of the cars were wrecked, although their comrades had carried any wounded officers away.

Swooping down, the Hurricane managed to pick Kane up in a full nelson and dragged him upwards. "Kane, you have to stop this!" he pleaded with the struggling man.

"They lied about me!" he said; hate dripping with every word.

Suddenly, the two were interrupted by the sound of clapping. "Bravo gentlemen, bravo." Triple H said as he stepped out behind a still functioning spotlight. "Kane, here it is I was wondering how I could get the public to hate you even more, and you go and attack New York's finest. Good job." He said as he flew up towards them.

With one kick, he broke the Hurricane's hold on Kane, and with two kicks sent the man hurtling towards the ground. Flying back down, Triple H smirked as Kane readied himself for attack. "I was going to bring you in, but I think I'll just beat you to death right here" he added as and easily blocked all of Kane's punches.

Lashing out, Triple H smiled as he heard Kane's shin bone break under his heel. With Kane bent over, Trip moved in and hooked both the man's arms. "Time to end this"


The voice was simple; there was neither shouting nor any theatrics.

Just one man who was damn tired and fed up with everything

Triple H shoved Kane away and looked at the new annoyance. The Hurricane was there, his cape a bit tattered, his face bloody, but he was still there. Clenching his fist, he looked for all the world like he was punching the air in front of him.

Triple H was not impressed.

Waving him away, Trip decided to return his attention to things that actually mattered, like Kane. But as he turned his head, a green bolt of pure energy blazed out of the Hurricane's fist and hit Triple H directly in the big gold belt he wore on his waist.

The impact sent him flying backward, where he hit the trunk of a mostly ruined car, bounced and kept on going.

Kane looked at his sometimes partner, but in lieu of praise, he staggered over to him. "This was my fight!" he roared as he punched him in the face. Helm's head jerked back and the last thing he saw before blackness replaced his vision was the sight of Kane looming over him and fire lighting up the night sky…


Triple H limped his way towards a revived Kane, his belt now cracked and sparking. "Alright you big red retard, let's finish this!" he shouted as a glass bottle came hurtling out of the night and shattered against his feet. 

"Who threw that?" he demanded as dozens of men, all of them clad in the fatigues of the Dudley Boys gang emerged from the shadows, all of them armed.

"Oh hell" he muttered as Bubba Ray and D-von made their way through the crowd and stared the single man down.

Kane, to no one's shock, took this opportunity to slink away into the night.

Triple H, on the other hand, did not slink, but instead simply pressed a button on his Rolex.

            The Dudley boys were puzzled by this action, at least until the sound of helicopters filled the air. "Next time boys" he casually replied as he grabbed an offered rope ladder of a passing chopper.

The second his hands touched the rope, the other choppers began to launch large canisters at the assembled throng.

"Gas!" D-von shouted as the Dudley boys quickly beat a hasty retreat as the billowing white clouds began to clog the night air. Grabbing the Hurricane as they left, within seconds all that was left of the battered midway was simply a lot of garbage and some wrecked cars.


Some time later

            The Hurricane, as he slowly opened his eyes, noticed one major thing about the room he was in.

It was pink.

Very, very pink

Sitting up (and immediately that he hadn't done that as intense pain shot up through his side) he looked around at the room he was in. There were stuff animals and posters of various boy bands around the walls, and there was also the sound of someone cooking.

            The door opened, and much to his shock, there stood none other than Terri Runnels. She smiled and closed before sitting down on the small bed.

"You got dropped off at my door like a pizza." She started as she checked his bandaged face. "You've been asleep for almost a week, I was starting to get worried."

            "Where am I?" he asked, his jaw throbbing. "Oh, I just put you in my daughter's room; hope you don't mind."

"No, it's ok. But what happened to your tape?"

            Terri looked away for a moment and Helms could see her clenching her fist as she spoke. "They buried it. They said, HA! That there was no way a hero like Triple H could ever do anything like that, and Kane didn't say that we didn't already now, so basically we have nothing."

The Hurricane, although he felt more like just plain Shane Helms at the moment, gently placed his wrapped up hand on her shoulder. "I can't promise you anything, but I swear I'll get to the bottom of this."

Terri took his hand in hers and simply gave it a simple squeeze.

The end