*110/680mm multi-functional long distance surveillance telescope with day and night vision--*

"Hullo, mate. Fine night for you to die, isn't it?"

*Browning Llama M82 semi-automatic pistol, 9mm.*

"That isn't going to hurt me, but when I'm through hurting you, I'm going to take that shirt off your body and use it as a bum-wipe."

*Double-stack magazine capacity: 15 rounds, plus 1 in the chamber.*


"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

*Miniature blow torch for cutting purposes and interrogations. Hotshotted to produce one-time jet of flame six feet long and 2,500 degrees F.*

"When I heal up, I'm gonna rip out your spleen for that!"


"Aaaaahhhh! Do you know how much time I spent on my hair tonight, you poofter?!"

*M84 flash-bang grenade, 2.3 second fuse. Diameter: 1.73 inches.*

"You sick bast--!"

*Diameter of adult human anus at full diliation: 1 to 2.2 inches.*



*Belleville 330ST flight authorized steel toe Navy/USMC boot.*


"Wmff gmmfb nnmmm rrrrfff!"

(Translation: "When my fangs grow back in, I'm gonna make you really sorry for that!")

*Height of building and Frank Castle holding someone overhead at arm's length = 50 meters. Falling body equation: t = sqrt {2d/g }. Time = 3.19 seconds.*

"I really wanna be a bat right no--"

*Time to lisp the above unfinished sentence: 3.2 seconds.*


Punisher's War Journal, later:

While conducting surveillance on a combined Gambione/Tellucci family conference, interrupted by assassin. Probably an independent not connected with the families, as no other attack at same time. Plus, they can hire better. Definite metahuman/mutant, due to bodily modification, heightened strength/speed, impressive regenerative abilities. Uncertain if ability to never shut up part of package. Overconfident, unfamiliar with modern weaponry, minimal fighting skills against uninjured, trained, ready opponent possessing only personal arms. Unknown if terminated when disposed of, as then had to deal with the goombahs when they came to see what all the fuss was all about. Despite the ludicrous beginning, a good night's work.


*M18A1 claymore mine, a block of plastic explosives with hundreds of steel ball bearings attached. When set to detonate in a specific direction, the results to human bodies caught in the blast can be found under the dictionary definition of 'puree'.*

*M60 machine gun, with a hundred-round linked belt.*

As the shockwaves of the Punisher's war rocked the heap of garbage he'd landed upon, Spike frantically burrowed further into the smelly pile, finally reaching the alley floor and curling up in a ball of agony with his arms still healing from bullet holes around his scorched head, all while whimpering at what was happening outside. Finally, he muttered a solemn vow to himself:

"Right, I've had it. Dru and I are leaving this bloody town when I get better. What's the world coming to when a bloke goes out for a bite to eat and runs across somebody carrying more firepower than what both sides had at Dieppe?"

Further brooding while trying not to breath through his broken nose produced the following:

"We're going to get away from here as far as possible. Hmm, that new Hellmouth in California sounds like a nice spot. Heard there's a new Slayer there, just starting out, so I might get a third notch on my belt. Right, then. It's settled. Come to think of it, what was the name of that place, anyway? Oh, yes. Sunnydale."