Bax Trembly, S.I.: Master of a Million Masks! In: You Cant Stamp Out The Cockroach!

By Scott Mercer (Based on a character created by Larry Blamire) Red Rose Washing Powder and Grandmother Fotheringills Laxative Corn Toasties present the continuing adventures of: Bax Trembly, S.I.: Master of a Million Masks!
Bax Trembly, Special Investigator, or S.I., as he is often referred to, fights a constant fight against the foes of Freedom and Liberty the world over. As a young man, he traveled with his diplomat father to various exotic postings around the globe, traveling outside continents and incontinence. He became fluent in nine separate languages, eight of which he invented himself. Tutored in the Himalayan mountains in the art of disguise, by ascetic monks steeped in the tradition of this ancient discipline, he now uses his powers of masking, and blending into any situation, to infiltrate the activities of all bad men and evil doers right under their own noses. His true identity, and his true aims and purposes, are known only to the President of the United States, to Baxs loyal Himalayan assistant, Teng Ko, and to Baxs mentor and supervisor, head of the little-known and ultra-secret Department of Investigations Department Bureau, known only by his code name, The Honcho. Now, once again, The Honcho has called Bax Trembly into his office, located in the hidden underground DIDB HQ, beneath the traffic-kissed streets of Washington, D.C.

Bax Trembly looked perturbed. Perhaps even miffed. He sat down in the rhinoceros skin chair facing The Honchos burled mahogany solid ivory desk. It had better be important, Honcho. When I got your message, I was right in the middle of a whist tournament. About to

spring my trap and rope in all those suckers. Lower the boom, as it were. Believe me, Bax, it is. Important, I mean. A look of worry tap-danced its way across Bax Tremblys countenance. Where a mere nanosecond ago, he held all the cars, now he felt adrift, a boat at sea, storm-tossed, sans anchor. Gee, Honcho, you sure dont fool around. could it be? Youre looking serious. All right, Ill give. What

I am serious. Serious as that thing, when that, whats it called, in your chest, you know, stops working, that makes you dead? You mean, a heart attack? Bax Trembly inquired inquiringly. Yeah, thats the one, The Honcho confirmed. As serious as a heart attack. Because this time, its personal. The Cockroach is back. Im sorry, who now? Bax asked, cocking an eyebrow. Bax! Your old nemesis? past? That disgusting insect you battled in the

Come again? Bax said, eyeing a cockbrow. The Honcho had a beautiful statue of a rooster that he kept on his desk. Bax could barely keep his eyes off it. Man, it was so distracting, Bax thought to himself. It was so lifelike! He just couldnt stop staring at it! Why wouldnt The Honcho just get rid of that thing? It was almost impossible to conduct business with its incisive, turgid beauty in your field of vision! Um, your mortal enemy? Who you battled to a near death on multiple occasions? Who killed your only true love? Who you swore a blood oath to avenge? Bax Tremblys brow furrowed. Okaaaykeep going, this is starting to sound a little familiar to me. The Honcho got right to the point. The Cockroach is a perfectly appropriate name, Bax, for this interminable pest. No matter how many times we think weve stamped him out, he just pops up again, all over again. 2

Maybe thats why hes called The Cockroach, Bax mused. Erm, right. Thats what I was just anyway, as you recall, we thought you had killed him on top of the Grand Coulee Dam. I guess that was nothing but a dam mistake, Bax quipped. Where is the vermin now? Our operatives have tracked him to an estate about 75 miles outside the city limits. Bax, you need to infiltrate his secret hideout, find out what his nefarious scheme is, and, if possible, put a stop to it. We dont know what hes up to, but if The Cockroach is involved, then the future of freedom may very well be at stake. Nuts, Bax spat. Im tired of all this pussyfooting around, Honcho. You know, beating about the bush, laying back, delaying action, formulating options, taking a wait-and-see attitude, carefully crafting a plan of attack. That stuffs all for saps. Im not a guy for talking. Talking, talking, talking. Some people, thats all they know how to do, just talk and talk and talk. Flap their gums. Yammer on and on. Chew the fat. Cut off a slice of jabber pie. Take a big drink of a discussion milkshake. Yammer on and on. But not me. No, Im a man of action, Honcho. And if a man of action, knows one thing, and only one thing, only, its got to beaction. Okay, Bax. Im all ears. Whats your plan? The way I figure it, in order to catch The Cockroach, I have to take him by surprise. So, using my amazing powers of disguise, I infiltrate his secret hideout, find out what his nefarious scheme is, and, if possible, put a stop to it. Ermgood plan. I knew youd see things my way, Honcho. Now, wheres this estate of yours? The Honcho handed over a large cardboard sleeve. Bax Trembly read the markings on its outside, which was markedly easier than reading the markings on its inside, that is, without opening it. Huh. Top Top Secret. No Looking. No Peeking. Really. Seriously. Its Not Allowed. Okay? No Takebacks. No Mulligans. Are you sure Im allowed to read this? 3

Of course, Bax. You have clearance. In fact, youre one of our most clarified agents. In that dossier, you will find all the information you will need. It may be what I need, but, I wonder, is it really what I want? Bax considered. Did I miss something? The Honcho muttered. Sorry chief. Reading too much Dale Carnegie again, I guess. But dont worry about anything, Bax Trembly said. The fate of the world is in good hands resting on the shoulders of Bax Trembly. Minutes later, Bax had piloted his sleek Suisso-Cheeza coup into the underground parking garage of the Parker-Hallus Building, where his sumptuous penthouse suite lorded its swankness over the rumbling, filthy city sprawling far below. After taking the ultrasonic elevator to the top floor, he fiddled gently but substantially with the chromeencrusted tumblers of his custom-designed locking mechanism, engineered to keep out all but the most persistent and cunning evildoers, and finally, gained entry to his sanctum. Teng Ko, he called. action yet again. Be very aware. We have been called into

Teng Ko entered the looming vestibule, tray in hand. But Master Trembly, I prepared your usual cocktail, just the way you like it. Evil Boy Scout, heavy on the crme fraiche. That will have to wait, my friend, Bax Trembly intoned somberly. The world needs my special abilities. Come, let us prepare. Meanwhile, 75 miles outside the city limits, in an unassuming farm house with an assumed mortgage, criminal mastermind The Cockroach called his deputies together. Come, my duplicitous henchmen, gather around me, The Cockroach hissed. One of the henchmen tentatively raised his hand.

Excuse me, I dont mean to be a jerk about this, but what did you just call us? The Cockroachs posture collapsed into a notably disappointed position. Are you serious? What? Duplicitous? Yeah, thats the one. No offense or anything, but Ive never heard of that word before. Yeah, me neither, piped up another one of the Henchmen. I see. Not boned up on your English vocabulary? So, what all were you people doing instead of studying for your college entrance exams then, hmm? Stuffing yourselves into telephone booths? Swallowing goldfish? Im sorry, the first Henchman said. I never went to college. I did graduate high school, but it was no smooth sailing, let me tell you. That algebra stuff was particularly harsh. A third Henchman joined the discussion. Tell me about that. And what is the point of learning that stuff anyway? Its not like youll be ever using it on the job. Working as an Evil Henchman for a Criminal Mastermind? The second Henchman added. You got that right, pal. All we do around here is stick guns in peoples faces and the occasional lifting of dead bodies. QUIET DOWN! The Cockroach yelled. Im quite sorry that all of you are disappointed in your career choices, The Cockroach said, But Im standing right here, you know. I have feelings too. I dont like it when my business is badmouthed. And you wouldnt like it either. Put yourself in my evil penny loafers for a second. Sure, boss, but Hold on, Arnie. Personally, I think Evil Henchman is an excellent career opportunity for young up-and-comers like yourselves. Why, theres constant deaths, so plenty of opportunities to move up in the ranks, the possibility of massive amounts of stolen goods or money coming into your possession, and plenty of fringe benefits, like evil parking allowance, evil dental plan, and even the chance for an evil

girlfriend. So. Taking all that into consideration, are there any complaints about your positions? The Henchmen muttered their agreement. I thought so. Now lets get on with the meeting. You still never told us what the word meant, the first Henchman muttered. It means crafty, devious, and underhanded. Evil. Okay?

Okay, sorry boss. I guess I got a little sensitive about the whole thing. Just dont let it happen again. Now, where was I? Right. Bax Trembly. The Special Investigator. I have it on good authority that he has our latest operation in his sights. Trembly? But hes almost unstoppable! Only if youre not a genius. And I am. A genius, that is. Ive been expecting him to make his move for some time. I understand that he has been led to our very doorstop." "Boss? Don't you mean doorstep?" A large Evil Henchman asked gormlessly. "Yes, of course," The Cockroach replied, with extra gorm. "That's what I said. Doorstep." "Ah, no. No, you didn't. You said 'doorstop.'" "Well, now. Isn't my face red!" The Cockroach began laughing. The Evil Henchman, unsure of what to do, began laughing along with him. The other Henchmen all joined in on the joke. Suddenly, the Cockroach pulled out a revolver and shot the presumptuous henchman in the face. Blood shot out of every facial opening the man possessed. Looking like a man possessed, the Henchman dropped to the floor like a sack of something that's really heavy would drop to the floor. "But your face is even redder!" The Cockroach shouted.

The other Evil Henchmen froze in place. "Now," the Cockroach said, "any more questions?" Meanwhile, Bax Trembly and Teng Ko had arrived at a spot quite near the Cockroach's secret hideout in Bax's Suisso-Cheeza coup. Bax had expertly piloted the imported vehicle into a deep ditch at the side of the road, where it remained trapped. "Teng Ko, I guess we're parking the car here." "Yes, Master Trembly. Car should be safe here. Nobody can steal car when stuck in four feet of mud." "Once again, Teng Ko my old compatriot, you have crystallized my thinking. What would I do without you?" "Not sure, Master Trembly." "Don't be so hard on yourself, Teng Ko. Well, are we ready? Is your equipment prepared?" "Everything ready," Teng Ko replied. While crouching near the farmhouse behind a conveniently abandoned zeppelin, Bax Trembly carefully applied his masterful disguise of false beard, mustache and sunglasses. "Teng Ko, as you can see, I have chosen to apply a masterful disguise of false beard, mustache and sunglasses. Actually, the sunglasses are not false. They are real sunglasses, but I shall be wearing them indoors, so, I guess one could say that the sunglasses are false not in description, but only in the context of their usage. Teng Ko nodded. Very insightful, Master Trembly. In sight ful? Not really, Teng Ko. We are talking about sunglasses, and my sight may actually be impaired while wearing them in a dimly lit indoor environment, a situation for which they clearly were in no way designed. But, no matter. The important thing is that with this transformation, I shall now become one of the very scum I am pursuing. This disguise is a work of genius," Bax Trembly said. "None of the criminal brotherhood in that abode will dare to suspect that I am not one of their own kind. Very well then, Teng Ko. I would say, wish me luck, but if theres one thing that Bax Trembly does not enjoy falling back upon, its luck. And, maybe a bed of nails. 7

So, I guess, two things Bax Trembly does not enjoy falling back upon. Here I go." After watching the fleet-of-foot form comprising Bax Trembly slink towards his destiny, Teng Ko concealed himself nearby, tensed like a coiled snake, ready to strike, should his employer require his protection. Within moments, Bax Trembly stood on the porch of the weathered old farm house, preparing himself mentally for the battle that was about to take place. Before he could even raise his hand to press the buzzer that rang the doorbell, the door flung open. Standing before him was one of the Cockroach's evil henchman: a voluminous goon that filled the open door frame with his bulk. He had a giant scar on his lips and a giant cigar in them. He cracked a broad grin and flashed a rack of gold teeth straight out of Fort Knox. But most importantly, he was pointing a loaded gun directly at the chest of Bax Trembly! How will Bax Trembly extricate himself from this delicate situation? Stay right there Bax Trembly fans, for our story will continue in mere moments! But, first, Mother, have your children become listless? Are they too pooped, or, even worse, are they not pooped enough? Then what they need is a hearty heaping helping of Grandmother Fotheringill's Laxative Corn Toasties. They have what it takes to get your tired tots on the run again! What is the secret of Grandmother Fotheringill's Laxative Corn Toasties? One serving is packed with the colon-scouring power of an entire month worth of pure corn branthat's good American roughage, and good for them, too. So make sure your local grocer isn't a communist, then ask him if he carries Grandmother Fotheringill's Laxative Corn Toasties. You'll be glad you did! Look for the box with the picture of the outhouse on the cover. Available in the small 8 pound box or the Economy 50 pound barrel. Insist on the powerful strength of Grandmother Fotheringill's Laxative Corn Toasties. And now fans, back to the exciting adventures of Bax Trembly, S.I.!

Say, the Henchman growled, what gives? Bax Trembly smirked. Boss? Dont give me that, Johnny. Wheres the

The Henchman was taken aback. Maybe even two. Er, hes inside. But, listen pal, my names not Johnny, its Vic. Sure, sure, Im hep. Thats the name youre usin on this gig. No problem, Johnny. Thats aces with me. Vic it is, from now on. And you can drop that piece. I aint lookin to do an impersonation of a piece of Swiss Cheese anytime soon. Bax Trembly barged his way past the confused henchman and into the house. Hey, my name really is Vic Bax heard echoing behind him as he thrust his personage into the den of evil. Bax found himself in the middle of a den of thieves: the most motley collection of thugs, mugs, pugs, cutthroats, jackdaws and jackanapes this side of the Rio Grande. As they spun around to look at this stranger thrust into their midst, Bax could hear a pin drop. Sorry I dropped my pin, Bax said. The Coackroach raised himself on his insect-like legs. Bax recognized him immediately, what with his elaborate costume that had the words The Cockroach emblazoned across the chest in highly legible characters. Who the hell are you, mustachioed stranger? A fine question, Bax stalled, waiting for his mind to spit up an acceptable cover story. A disgusting metaphor, Bax thought, but an apt one. His cerebral cortex heaved an idea into his frontal lobes, triggering his lips to move and his voice box to make sounds. Really important sounds. Im Rocco, from Downtown. The boys sent me. What boys? one of the henchmen asked. The Downtown Boys! Bax barked. Does that answer your question, wise guy? Just a moment, The Cockroach retorted. I need some names here, fellow. You are nought but unknown to us. 9

Names? Sure, I gotcha. Some names. Of course, I can give you guys some names. All you gotta do is ask for em. If its names you want, then names I got. Well then? Oh you know, Bax mumbled. Theres, uh, Lefty, and Slats, and uh Broccoli Nose. Broccoli Nose! ridiculous! The Cockroach shouted. Thats absolutely

Bax bit his lip, thinking the jig was up. Or was it down for the count? I think you mean Cauliflower Ear, The Cockroach said. A smile broke across Baxs relieved face. Right! Cauliflower Ear! I always say the wrong vegetable and the wrong body part. Ill get that right next time. Listen, word on the street is that youse guys are up to your necks in trouble, and Im here to bail you out. So are we gonna do some crimes or what? A cracked grin oozed across the face of The Cockroach. My, arent we the impatient one. But I do like that. A real go-getter, then? Excellent. I would be quite gratified to see what youre made of. Mainly bones, internal organs and skin. But Id rather not get into a discussion of human biology right now, Cockroach. Because you and everyone in this room is under arrest! Bax shouted, brandishing his government issue revolver like so many things that could kill a large number of people if they wanted to. The Cockroach stood there, stunned, as if he had been just slapped wildly about the head and shoulders with a world-record-shatteringly huge giant haddock of gargantuan proportions. "You are turning into a very bad Evil Henchman, my friend. I may have to make a note of this on your next employee evaluation." "I wouldn't blame you if you did," he replied, "because you are correct. I am a very bad Evil Henchman. In fact, I am not a Henchman at all."

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The Henchman reached up to remove his facial disguise and wig, along with his Evil Henchman name tag, to reveal, not an Evil Henchman at all, but exactly Bax Trembly! Bax Trembly! The Cockroach blurted. One and the same, Bax Trembly reblurted. Now If youll all come quietly, Im sure I can convince the judge to go easy on all of you. Unless, of course, youd like me to do that. Then, I wont. Seize him, my Evil Henchmen! The Cockroach cried. Gee, Boss, what are you crying for? The Big Lug asked. Just get him! The horde of no-goodniks descended upon Bax Trembly like a large group of some type of flying insect, perhaps a type that would be driven expressly by unfeeling, unflinching instinct to descend upon something in the manner that insects would do. Baxs government issue revolver was forcibly removed quicker than a strapless gown on Prom Night. Bereft of his well-oiled example of the gunsmiths art, Bax Trembly prepared for an onslaught of fisticuffs the likes of which had not been seen since the most recent Golden Gloves Tourney. He flung his best Haymaker into the solid jaw of the towering goon that loomed over him like a lugubrious moon. But for all the good it did, Bax Trembly may as well have been attempting to shatter that ancient planetary body itself, rather than the intractable mandible of a scuffling neerdo-well. Two more stooges lunged at Bax Trembly from behind and grabbed him by the spleen. Bax attempted to withdraw his ancient Nepalese dagger from its hidden scabbard in a sneak attack. But it was no use. Even with his unquestioned mastery of the ancient martial arts, Bax Trembly had been caught with his pants down. I really should get a new belt, he muttered as the Henchmen dragged Bax Trembly to a standing position. Bax could not make a move, as at least five, but probably less than seven, guns were trained on him at once, from at least five, but probably less than seven different directions!

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Bax Trembly. As I live and breathe. But not for long, Bax Trembly retoasted. Very clever. I see youve been working on your banter. unfortunately for you, not quite clever enough. So, we meet again, The Cockroach, Bax Trembly said. Yes, we do, Bax Trembly. Too bad this will be our last meeting, The Cockroach barked, not unlike a small household pet, one that might be genetically related to a wolf. Why? You going somewhere? Moving out of town? On the contrary, Bax Trembly. It is you who are moving to a new locale. In fact, it is a permanent relocation. I would advise you to inform your mailman of your latest address. Forward all mail for Bax Trembly to Deadville: Population, You." Not quite sure where youre going with this metaphor, Cockroach. But I can tell you one thing. Whatever your twisted plan is, youre too late, Bax Trembly snarled. No, Bax Trembly, I can assure you that it is YOU who are too late. Late, as in The Late Bax Trembly. Now I see. Youre saying youre going to kill me, or something. The Cockroach chose to ignore Bax Tremblys incisive powers of deductive reasoning. This room is about to fill with poisonous gas. Within minutes, you will be unable to breathe. Your lungs will fill with the deadly vapors, then your lungs will swell, and finally, they will explode, filling your chest cavity with blood. That doesnt sound good, Bax admitted. But Ive got an important Extra for you, Cockroach, and its hot off the presses. As far as I know, as evil and heinous as you are, you still need air to fill your lungs on an ongoing basis. And youll be breathing in those selfsame poisonous vapors. If I go down, so do you. That almost makes it worthwhile. Ha ha ha ha ha! The Cockroach cackled. That is where you are wrong, Bax Trembly. Wrong as in, dead wrong. And dead, as in not 12 But,

alive. For, thanks to my fabulous invention, The Omni-Antidote Pill, I am protected against any drug or poison you would care to throw at me. Oh really? What about bullets? Bax said, letting his gun do the talking for him. He withdrew his backup, miniature revolver from deep within the hidden folds of his trench coat, and fired several shots at the Cockroach, emptying the chambers of the weapon. He fired, and fired, and fired, until he could fire no more, the dull clicking of the trigger making a depressingly hollow sound in his shooting hand. But when Bax Trembly looked across the chamber, The Cockroach was still standing in place, his fists balled against his hip bones in defiance. What in the Sam Hill? Bax blurted. How many more times do I need to shoot you before you go down on me? Try all you like, G-Man. But you wont get anywhere. Because I am not really in the room. What you are looking at and hearingatis merely the output of my latest genius invention. It transmits images and sounds over a long distance, and projects them into a remote location. I call it the cell phone. Bax stepped into the center of the room and lunged at the image of The Cockroach. But there was nothing to grab. His arms passed through it harmlessly, like so many raisins shooting through a tapioca pudding. Where are you, Cockroach? You coward! Show yourself! What kind of man would do something like this? You must be some kind of an insect! Or a bug! Yes, thats right! And that, Special Investigator, is why I am called The Cockroach! Oh yeah. Right. That would make sense. Youve failed again, Bax Trembly! Get him, boys! The image of The Cockroach faded into the ether, disassembling itself into a jumble of various non-entities. Then, it was gone. Just then, several other previously unseen Evil Henchmen charged through the door. A pair of giant hands grabbed Bax roughly by the scruff of the neck before he had a chance to react. Another thug had 13

Bax by the legs, imprisoning the Master of Disguise and tossing him about like a rag doll; albeit one with an excellent wardrobe and a highly distinguished haircut. It seemed that all was lost, when suddenly, Bax Trembly felt a skull being cracked above him. Teng Ko and his deadly flying limbs had come to the rescue! The Tibetan warrior swiftly and decisively dispatched the retinue of brutes that were keeping a lid on Bax Trembly. Bax was now lidless! He looked up and surveyed the carnage that lay before him. The floor was littered with the motionless carcasses of the ineffective goons that could not stand the unremitting assault of Teng Kos powerful feet! Teng Ko, my friend. What are you doing here? Saving your bacon, Master Trembly. I do like bacon. But what do my breakfast choices have to do with anything? Well, sometimes, I do wish you would wake up and smell the coffee, Teng Ko sighed. What a sense of humor! Teng Ko, youre a panic. Panic. Yes, sometimes I do feel that way. Teng Ko, looks like Ive wrapped up another one. Lets head back home. Well put in a call to the Sanitation Department. Looks like somebody should come by here and take out all this trash. Of course, I am referring to the Henchmen that are now lying about the floor of this room, bloodied and nursing broken limbs. Im calling them trash. I get it. Minutes, or perhaps even hours later, Bax sat in the finely upholstered yak leather wing chair in front of The Honcho, delivering his report of the incidents that had unfolded in front of his unbelieving spleen. Glad to have you back, Trembly. Must have been a tense situation up there. As the kids say, you aint just whistling Dixie, Honcho. That Cockroach is a menace. I got a chill just when I stared into his cold 14

and detached eyes. It was even worse when he put his eyes back in their sockets. I look forward to reading your report. Well, 27 henchmen in custody, the Cockroachs operation shut down, and the worlds supply of eggplant caviar safe once again. Id say the mission was an unqualified success, Honcho. Not quite, Bax. The Cockroach got away, didnt he? Well, I suppose if you want to nitpick, Honcho. But trust me, I will get him. What do they say about DIBD men? We always get our man, right? Bax, no. Thats the Canadian Mounties. Right, itswe will get him, neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow Bax. Thats the Post Office. Exactly. When I finally capture The Cockroach, that will be a Red Letter Dayfor him.
And so ends another tale of raw excitement and uncooked danger with Bax Trembly, Special Investigator, or S.I., as he is often referred to. Join us once again next time for another crime busting adventure ripped painfully from the anals of law enforcement, the thrilling and sensational tales of the most beloved foe of evil ever unleashed upon the doers of dastardly deeds, the one and only Bax Trembly, S.I. Master of a Million Masks!

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