31 - Taking Over The Airwaves

*The road to SCWOIFD Grinds Onward Here!!


Port Oakes is one of the many, many Rogue Isles. Warring crime families fight in the streets while strange creatures called Coralax prowl the docks. But by far the strangest thing on the island sits on top of an abandoned car in an almost empty parking lot.

No, its not the confused looking brute sitting on the hood trying to fiddle with a radio. It IS the radio.

"I just don’t get it," Deadfoot says, fiddling with the tuner.

A passing mastermind stops and stares.

"Vat are you doing?" he asks in a thick foreign accent.

Deadfoot looks up. "What? Oh, nothing!"

Just then the radio crackles and the volume jumps up suddenly.

"Hello Rogue Isles! You’re listening to Radio, Radio, Radio Free Opportunity! Broadcasting live from somewhere in international waters. We’re your number one source for gossip, skullduggery and misanthropy! Today villains, we’re running an EXTRA special surprise for you. We’ve managed to find the location of a particularly active nest of Wyvern agents, and we’re going to be giving that information to one lucky, lucky villain. Just think of the carnage you can wreak on those unsuspecting archers. Mmmm, I bet your mouths are salivating uncontrollably at the very thought of that much mayhem."

"Vas ist-?" the mastermind tries to ask.

"Shhh!" Deadfoot warns.

The Radio continues. "All you have to do to become that lucky miscreant who gets to smash down a nest of do-gooders is be the fifth caller to this station!"

Deadfoot fumbles trying to get his cell phone out of his belt while the mastermind quickly dials the number into his arm.

"Hello caller, what’s your name?"

"My name ist Doktor Umlaut und I’m callink about ze Vyvern hideout…"

"Oh, I’m sorry, but you’re not the right caller. We’re looking for caller number six."

"Vat!? You just asked for der fifth caller!"

"Well, here’s the story Doc. I lied. See, that’s part of the fun of villainy. You can lie and revel in the misfortune of others! Until of course they find out where you live and then come over and rip your walls down, ha ha! Oh to be young again. Better luck next time."

Deadfoot finally dials the number in to his phone and waits in anticipation.

"Hello caller, what’s your name?"

"Uh, Deadfoot. Am I really on Radio Free Opportunity?"

"No way, you’re on Radio, Radio, Radio Free Opportunity!"

"Whoa, awesome!"

"And here’s something else to blow your little mind. You’re the sixth caller!"

"Holy [censored]!" Deadfoot yells. "Oh, sorry, can I say that on the air?"

"Not really but that’s what those little beep buttons are for. Why don’t you hang on and we’ll hook you up with your prize. And as for the rest of you naughty listeners, don’t do anything the little voices in your head wouldn’t do. And now, back to whatever legitimate frequency you were listening to before we pirated it!"

The Radio crackles and hisses and soon resumes playing a mix of top forty hits from the 80s, 90s and today.

Deadfoot stays on the phone, getting his instructions. Occasionally he says "Uh-huh." After a few minutes, he hangs up and looks at the fuming Dr. Umlaut. Deadfoot shrugs good naturedly, then sticks his tongue out and speeds away.


Meanwhile, several miles out to sea, on a small dinghy in the Atlantic, one character climbs down from the rooftop of the cabin.

"I’ve been many things in my life, Flat," Teckstyle says. "But a pirate radio transmitter has never been one of them."

"Until today, you mean," Flatfoot says. "What was it like?"

"Like I was intimately connected to the information pathways of the world."

"Ew. Sorry I asked."

"So how did you know he’d be listening?"

"Deadfoot?" Flat asks. "I didn’t, I was gonna keep hanging up on people until he finally did."

"That’s not much of a--you would, wouldn’t you?"

"Guess we’d better get back to the mainland and start setting up."

"Right, but are you sure the giant mousetrap is necessary?"

"Absolutely."