The Sneevla: Beat Down, #4

By Michael S. Hunter

Marny is taking a well deserved holiday in Siena. Almost before he's settled in, however, a new art display in the town begins to turn tourists into hordes of vegetarian zombies. With Kurt Sniveller and the Sprite Squadron seen in the town, it's only a matter of time before Russell T. Goode will need to dish out another beat down ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: AMMFA Publishing
• Release date: Mar 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524229320

Book preview

The Sneevla

The Sneevla

Beat Down Episode 4

Michael S Hunter

AMMFA Publishing

Contents

Copyright

Also by Michael S Hunter

About the Author

The Sneevla

Beat Down—Episode 4: The Sneevla

Copyright © Michael S. Hunter 2013

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The right of Michael S. Hunter to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the Author.

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This story is a work of fiction and is a product of the Author’s imagination. All resemblances to actual locations or to persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Also by Michael S Hunter

The Beat Down! novella series

Beat Down 1—Clones

Beat Down 2—The Heist

Beat Down 3—Badassaur!

Beat Down 4—The Sneevla

About the Author

Michael S. Hunter was born at the dawn of time and now resides somewhere south of midnight in a quaint little town known as Valhalla. He is a former professional wrestler and a fulltime badass who spends his time breaking rocks with his bare hands and snapping trees over his knees. He believes that morality and virtues are important regardless of your political or religious beliefs and that no home is complete without at least one cat.

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Michael S Hunter on Facebook

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Michael S Hunter on Twitter

www.amillionmilesfromanywhere.net/michael-s-hunter

The Sneevla

The day after winning the Inter-Regional Championship for an unprecedented fourteenth time, Russell T. Goode, his girlfriend, Belinda, and his manager, Rip T. Chest, were enjoying a nice afternoon out at the beach. Russell, of course, had once worked as a lifeguard during his early twenties and now, despite the water being flat calm (and freezing cold—it was October), women of all ages, shapes and sizes (and a couple of men to boot) were jumping in and pretending to drown just so that the muscle-bound Russell could swim out to save them.

Further up the shoreline, Belinda raised a hand to give Russell a wave just as the world’s most awesome wrestler deposited another thankful customer on to the beach. ‘Well done, my darling!’ she shouted, then lowered her hand to pull her towel back around her. Only Russell seemed immune to the cold.

Rip, wearing an olive green sweatshirt with black polka dots and lime green shorts, rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t you get bored of his antics?’ he asked. ‘I mean, he’s such a show-off. Surely you’d be better off with someone more down-to-earth, someone like—’

‘Oh look! There’s a drowning young man!’

Belinda jumped up and threw off her towel to reveal the kind of figure you only ever saw in magazines. Rip sighed as she dashed off down the beach. As she reached the water’s edge he saw several other men leap into the freezing water and start flapping around as if they’d never been in water before.

‘Perhaps I should open a bloody swimming school,’ he muttered.

Russell came back and sat down. ‘Terrible rip tides today,’ he said with a grin as he toweled his muscular frame dry. ‘Get it? Rip tides?’

‘Your humor is as exemplary as your physique, Russ,’ he said. ‘God, I wish Marny was here. At least then I wouldn’t look like a gooseberry, just a granddad.’

‘Shouldn’t he be back by now? I mean, Belinda gives a good massage, but it’s never as good as when you’re paying for it.’

‘We hardly pay him anything. He’s an intern. He beat ten thousand other applicants to the honour of collecting sweat off your body. It’s only because we were worried that he couldn’t afford to eat that we decided to pay him anything at all.’

‘Well, but even pocket money ...’

Marny had gone on vacation to Italy. While as far as Russell was concerned, Marny’s sole existence in life was to worship the very ground he walked on—at least until his internship ended—Marny actually had quite a love for paintings of Jesus as well as a taste for fine pizza.

‘You’re right, though. He should have been back yesterday. We should send a telegram. Perhaps if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow we should fire him.’

‘He does a good job, though. He has a tender touch. Perhaps he’s in trouble?’

Rip frowned. Kurt Sniveller, as always, had managed to escape after their latest adventure in the Andes mountains.

‘I hope not,’ Russell said, shaking his head. ‘Every time that bounder gets up to something, the world comes closer to catastrophe.’

Marny, incidentally, was having a great time. Having taken a Nerv Lines airship out to Italy, he had travelled by train down from Venice through Bologna, Pescara, Bari, and right down to the tip of Puglia and Lecce, known as the Florence of the South, then travelled across the country to Naples and back up through Rome, Florence and Pisa. He had stopped in at the latter only for half a day to see how the tilting work on the tower was going. On a promotional tour a couple of years ago Russell had seen the famous leaning tower and, concerned about a group of excited tourists perched on the top, had opened up a can of Beat Down™ and pushed it upright again. Now, in the aftermath of a massive tourist exodus, Pisa’s city council was attempting to tilt it back to its original position. In fact, the only reason to visit Pisa now was to buy a framed photo of Russell pushing the tower upright, available from the Russell T. Goode Gift Shop which was situated just outside the train station.

After a wonderful holiday, Marny was now in his favorite city, Sienna, up in the Tuscan hills an hour’s bus ride from Florence. He had rented a five star room and had a