Captain Disco: A New Disco: Captain Disco

By JOSEPH SIMMONS and PB DeBerry

Captain Disco has something all the bad guys in the universe want. And that something is a lot of money he stole from his partner before he went to prison.

His partner, the feared gangster shrimp Tito, has decided to blackmail Disco's daughter and her co-pilot into getting her the money.

When Baby Disco finally meets the father she never knew, will the universe survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JOSEPH SIMMONS
• Release date: Aug 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393726920

JOSEPH SIMMONS

Joseph Simmons is a thriller and horror writer from Maryland.  He also writes and illustrates children's books under the clever pen name "Mr. Simmons."

Book preview

Dedicated to...

All the fluffers.

-PB

Jerome. You know who you are.

-JS

Disco I

20...

The bastards disabled the jets in my suit before tossing me out the door. Naturally, they kept the life support features activated so I’d be able to watch those little red numbers do their digital countdown. The bomb was floating in front of me. And there they are, counting down in that ominous way digital numbers like to.

I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off the bomb to watch the starship. The bomb is one of those compact thermal-nuclear jobs. You know the kind, right? Big flash, big boom, lots of fire and pain. Doesn’t disintegrate everything, just leaves a sloppy mess. So, if anyone ever passes this little spot of intergalactic real estate, they’ll find my bones and maybe my wallet with my favorite photo of mega-star Tom Cruise.

They pushed me out of the ship pretty hard. I’m watching it float off with the little navigation lights blinking. There, now the engines are powering up. And there goes the secondaries, so they’re going straight to a warp jump. Makes sense, why would they want to be here when the nuke goes off?

The ship stretches and blinks out and the deafening silence of space gets a little quieter. I’d say lonely but I have a friend in the bomb. A temporary friend, but I’m not alone.

16...

The ship’s gone and I’m floating in the big empty. One minute inside a starship, the next floating in infinite nothingness. I guess it’s infinite, I don’t know, I’ve never seen the edge of space.

I’m not going to lie to you, there’s something poetic about being left to die in space. The twinkling stars and Nebula clouds and galaxy formations with the amazing colors. An endless abyss in every direction. I think I should be enjoying it more except I’m really fucking afraid of heights.

Hey! Don’t you judge, even the most macho of manly men, guys like me, and Tom Cruise, we have our hang-ups. Mine just happens to be heights. Heights and when food collects at the bottom of a sink drain. God damn, that grosses me out. You know what I’m talking about? It’s disgusting.

Okay, so, that handsome fella staring back at me in the reflection of my space helmet, the fella with a big smile on his face, is me: CAPTAIN BINGO DISCO.

All right settle down. I know my parents sucked at naming kids or maybe it was the writer wanting his ruggedly handsome, titular main character to have a ridiculous middle name. What you thought Bingo was my first name? Nope, Captain is. I used to think it was Awesome, but Awesome was my grandfather’s name. Awesome Disco. He's a cool dude you would like him.

Anyway, my name isn't what’s important here. Well maybe it is considering it's the title of this book and it's my name. Actually, I guess it really is important because my name is the title and when you strip everything away, I’m one of the main characters.

Another thing that might be important here is this: why the fuck am I smiling when a bomb is mere seconds from exploding in my face? Who smiles when they’re literally seconds away from dying in a soundless explosion in the middle of nowhere?

Did I not mention why I was out here with a bomb? In the excitement of being thrown out of a perfectly good starship by the balls, I must have forgotten. For you to understand my convoluted story that is probably chock-full of plot holes, we have to go back to the very beginning.

14...

13...

12...

I

The maternity ward at Space Hooters™ Memorial Hospital was quiet from anxiety. The mother in room seven had been in labor for twenty hours already. Twenty angry hours. Babies in other rooms had been born but never cried because they were afraid of the mother-to-be in room seven. The anger in the air was so thick that even babies fresh out of their mothers knew to be quiet.

Sweet Susie Disco gripped the rails of her bed in the stark white hospital room and gritted her teeth. She was trying to suck her unborn baby back into her uterus as her body was going through the natural ritual of childbirth. The physical pain of being torn apart and the mental pain of actually having to raise the kid with her bastard husband had collided at precisely the wrong time.

Her personal crisis was slowing down the process but wouldn’t hold it off forever. No, like it or not that baby was coming out. Maybe, a little voice in her head said, maybe you should have thought about this when you had your pants down and were bent over that pool table watching el Sexy Robot Mayordomo on the television. It was a good episode, the season finale. You really should have been paying more attention.

"Oh shit! Why did I let this happen?! What the hell did I do in life to deserve this punishment? My family lived in a double-wide starship for Christ sake! I could have had any asshole I wanted!"

The head nurse (Sweet Susie’s doctor told them to never ask how she got that title) tried to hold her hand. It’s OK, sweetie. A lot of mothers go through this. You’re gonna be just fine. The bitch’s cheery attitude only added to Sweet Susie’s agony and torment. Sweet Susie let go of the rail and slapped the head nurse’s hand away.

Decorating the walls were inspirational posters, breathtaking scenes of galaxies and pristine beaches. They all shook as Sweet Susie tilted her head back and screamed. Her mix of rage and pain was deafening. Somewhere, miles away, a dog howled.

Commodore Bingo Disco sat on the corner of the bed. The doctor would repeatedly elbow him out of the way, but he would casually circle back to the same spot. He leaned over and took a quick peek at the exit hole where his soon-to-be-born son would be appearing and smiled. Satisfied everything was going well, he then turned his attention back to the cute nurse. Her tight little outfit was too much to ignore. She was supposed to be helping with the delivery, but he figured the wife and that head nurse had it covered. He was paying the bill for this thing, so he ought to have a little bit of attention from the help. Mothers had been giving birth for how many years? Fuck it, the doctor was there too. They have this shit covered.

You’re doing great, honey, he said as he bent over to inspect the nurse’s legs. I couldn’t do it better if I was doing it myself. Seriously. You’re a real trooper.

Without shifting his attention or turning his head away from the cute little nurse, Disco ducked under a food tray as it went sailing across the room. It missed his head by inches before banging against the perfect white wall. The impact left a splatter and a colorful downward streak of shitty hospital food.

This is all your fault, Commodore! Every fucking dilated centimeter of pain is your goddamn fault! I fucking hate you!

Oh, I know it, he said. Commodore Disco then turned to his wife and gave her a wink and double finger guns for support. And, seriously, you’re doing a great job. Just look at you over there, a real trooper. Killin’ it!

I want an abortion!

The doctor stepped back and swallowed, trying to think of a reply. He and the head nurse looked at each other, dumbfounded. It might be a little too late?

Commodore Disco only laughed and went back to the nurse. They whispered something to each other and giggled. He smiled as she looked down at his crotch.

Sweet Susie screamed again, and a small head began to appear between her legs. Commodore Disco flirted with the nurse for seven more hours as his wife desperately tried to not have the baby.

She tried and tried, watching the tight little nurse giggle at her husband. The only thought on her mind was murder, and how the man was killing her from the inside out. There was no way she was going to have that baby.

Unfortunately, nature had...

Disco II

Wait. Hang on a hot little second here. That there is a great story, the story of my birth. You should have seen how cute I was. And the story has some nice drama with the shit between my parents. And that nurse? Wow. That’s definitely a good story. Fuck, you really need to hear that one.

Butt–as cute of a baby as I was (and the handsome devil I still am, really) my birth is not the starting point of this little yarn. It’s a good story, but tough shit. We are moving on to the real meat and potatoes here.

And the counter on that bomb floating in front of me? Yeah, the counter’s at ten. TEN! Do you really think I have that much time to tell not only my story from the time I popped out from between my momma’s legs to where this really needs to start?

I didn’t think so.

So, we’ll just skip a few years and fast forward to another time and another place. Journey with me to meet a girl who shares my last name. The girl who will be bringing the cast of characters you’re about to meet to me, your cruise director, Captain Disco.

10...

II

Baby Disco heard the crates above her sizzle as the laser blast got a little too close. The tiny bits of metal dropping into her hair confirmed it and pissed her off because she had washed her hair that very morning.

"Come on! You know how hard it is to get a good Earth shampoo this far outside the Milky Way? The goddamned taxes alone cost more than the bottle!" Baby said from behind her cover. Mother fuck, now I’m whining, she thought. What kind of day is this?

The one and only daughter of Captain Bingo Disco stayed down and looked at Chad, who was trying to pop a (hopefully fresh) battery pack into his blaster. She would have to talk to him about conserving ammo. His pristine pink skin was turning a darker shade, maybe a hint of purple mixing in, as they were hiding behind the reinforced crates of salsa chips. The guy was getting flustered.

Her proudly gay co-pilot blew her a kiss after his guns were ready. "Let’s finish this negotiation!" The rainbow tassels he had glued to the handle of his pistols jumped around as he lifted them to either side of his head. He winked at her as he tried to narrow his eyes in a dramatic manner. Then he pursed his lips and nodded at her, ready to go.

Let’s make sure we don’t get our heads fried, Baby said, I’m pretty sure these hostile negotiations are bringing on my period. Let’s think this through a little.

Chad was a former dancer, a ballet instructor, and an archery champion. His ability to be light in the loafers had helped him stay alive in the short time he’d known Baby. She had a knack for turning regular negotiations hostile. That was how she lost her previous co-pilot. And the two or three before that, even the dude with the impenetrable skin.

Why in the world does Tito send that woman on these jobs, Chad thought. Her reputation alone is tacky. Her attitude and fashion sense are unbearable and now I’m sitting here in a warehouse hiding from lizards when I could be taking a bath.

This is all your fault, Baby said. Every little bit of this is your fault. I’m not even blaming you, just stating the facts. It’s simple statistics. This. Is. Your. Fault.

Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart, Chad said as a barrage of laser blasts hit the wall above him. But he blushed because he knew the truth. He couldn’t hide the guilt on his pink face.

No! No, it’s your fault, alright, Baby said. This was a delicate job, and you fudged it up.

Chad scoffed at his boss. I fudged nothing.

Can you please at least take some responsibility here?

Ugh, I’m still wondering why I took this job, Chad said. You’d better give me a really good reference when I move on, lady.

Baby had been contracted to negotiate the sale of a set of rare space diamonds with the Zzskk. Ask ten people how to pronounce Zzskk and you’ll get twelve answers. They were a nasty-smelling race of lizards who didn’t like to be fucked with over money. Baby knew this going in, but also knew that she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She needed the score, and Tito wanted the diamonds. She hoped that might count a little bit against her debt to the fucker.

Unfortunately, Baby was there to fuck with them over money. Tito had instructed her to do that very thing. Her prep work had gone nicely, and she’d done some smooth talking when all of them came face to face. It was the middle of the night and they stood in the Zzskk warehouse and Baby couldn’t help thinking that the lizard men smelled like a leather purse.

And there they were, standing in an unmarked warehouse big enough that couldn’t see the walls. The place went on forever. Baby looked around and saw different items. Salsa chips, disposable diapers, crates of beer with smiling mermaids painted on the side. There was a palette of triple-headed dildo’s that reached to the ceiling. God only knew what kind of alien needed something that big. All around them were goods stolen and stored by the smelly lizards. Right in the middle of it was Baby Disco and her new co-pilot, surrounded by angry lizard things.

Their nice and smooth negotiations went sideways when Chad recognized one of the Zzskk as an ex-lover that had cheated on him. It took about a nanosecond for all the progress she’d made on the negotiations to come to a grinding halt. A high-pitched argument broke out and Baby wondered if she would be able to squeeze some hazard pay out of Tito when the shooting began. Chad’s ex pulled out a sawed-off laser blaster and Baby grabbed Chad by the back of his flight vest as she ran around metal crates of salsa chips. She swung him around and ducked in with blaster fire clanging against the crates.

Listen! Baby yelled over the buzzing sound of laser fire. Can we please just stop trying to kill each other for a fucking second? Is anyone listening to me? Do you guys remember we’re here to make a deal?

Her answer was met with more laser fire. Laser fire and the hissing sounds of lizards laughing. At least they’re enjoying themselves.

Baby found herself drifting into a vivid daydream as Chad exchanged blind fire with the Zzskk. Her vision blurred and she tried to not get angry as she saw that most of his shots were aimed at the ceiling, rather than the things shooting at them.

Lost in her moment, she pointed her fully charged blaster at Chad’s pink head. With a smile and a single shot, it was obliterated in a pink puff and chunks of blood. She smiled as burning, sizzling bits smacked back on her face. It was the best thing to come out of his head since she hired him. But her job wasn’t done. No. Those asshole lizards needed to meet a similar fate. So, Baby stood at precisely the right moment as two Zzskk bodyguards. Baby fired two rounds into each of their chests. Not missing a step, she vaulted over the salsa crates she had been using for cover and sprinted the last few hundred feet to where the remaining two Zzskk assholes were hiding. She then spectacularly somersaulted over the crate they were hiding behind, sticking the landing perfectly. The surprised Zzskk held up their reptilian hands in surrender.

We surrender!

The cry snapped Baby out of her daydream as she felt the warm metal of a blaster barrel pressing against her temple. The gun was rocking her head side to side. Chad on the other end looking at her with his eyebrows up, possibly questioning her sanity. On her forehead, she could feel the warm, tiny circle impression the barrel had left there.

Looking at his perfect eyelashes, Baby wanted to get back to the daydream. He motioned his head towards a pair of big and ugly Zzskk standing over them. She then realized the shooting had stopped in the real world. When Chad held up his gun and she saw the power level was in the red. The prideful tassels were hanging in defeat. Her own weapon was orange, she was almost out of power.

Baby! We should surrender. We’re totally out of juice, Chad said.

You idiot, Baby said, You waste too much ammo.

A shadow covered them, and Baby looked up to see two more nasty-smelling, crocodile-looking reptiles pointing fully charged blasters at her. She put her blaster on the ground with an unladylike grunt. The lizards laughed. Chad only looked at his boss and shrugged his shoulders as he carefully placed his blasters on the deck. Baby wanted to smack him in the face and wondered if there was any chance, they would be tortured. It would hurt, yeah, but thinking of Chad screaming in extreme pain would almost make it bearable.

Umm, yeah? We surrender. She answered. "I definitely feel my period coming on." 

III

Baby’s finger hovered over the button labeled ASSHOLE on her speed dial. After their surrender, she and Chad had failed to make the sale. No diamonds for the shrimp. The Zzskk doubled the price after it had been revealed Chad had actually been the one who broke off the relationship that started the gunfight. Baby and the Zzskk leader, whose name sounded a lot like Buttlips both screamed at Chad for a good half hour. Chad didn’t mind, he later told Baby he ignored them and retreated into an episode of Alien Top Model™ in his mind while they were yelling.

Going back to Tito with no diamonds. Now I have to call him and tell him the bad news, she thought. All of this to get a ship back. My ship! The Starsky! All of this to get the pink slip to my ship back. Not to buy a new one, but to get mine back. All of this to guarantee I keep my life priorities completely screwed up. The fucking ship I’m flying right now, I need to pay off a gangster shrimp so I can own it again.

Fuck my whole life, Baby muttered.

I’m sorry, Chad said, Did you say something I should have wanted to hear?

Chad was admiring his reflection, playing with his eyelashes. The sight of it was irritating. Watching him was having a nails-on-the-chalkboard effect on her nerves.

Are you crimping or co-piloting?

Are you going to call the shrimp? I just checked my AstroSwatch™ and he’s expecting a call, Chad said. He didn’t get to be a nasty, scary gangster by putting up with people not being punctual.

Well, I’m not too excited about this, Baby said. "You should call the little terror. It’s your love life that screwed everything up. You remember all that, right? I know it was only an hour or so ago, but you do have memories of almost being killed? All the shooting? Mutant alligators with guns? Shot at by lizards because you’re a horrible boyfriend?"

Chad rolled his eyes. Baby ignored it. She really wanted to smack the pink shit out of him, but he was pretty. He hadn’t yet proven himself one hundred percent as a co-pilot. The only thing he had was his looks and she didn’t want to ruin that. She’d flown with a lot of ugly mother fuckers, even a goat once, it was nice to share space with a pretty-boy, even if he was a Jupiter-sized douchebag.

Those lizards are worthless. And they have tiny, scaly cocks, Chad said. I’ll bet those diamonds weren’t even real.

Baby sighed, giving up on Chad. Let him be with himself for a little while. Sure, they’re not. That’s why we got sent there, to buy fake diamonds for a gangsta shrimp.

Yep, she thought, it was definitely that time of the month.

Baby swiped her phone off and looked at the displays on the dashboard. She toggled the switch on the steering wheel that ran through the current times on all of the planets she had on her favorites list. There was a smiley face emoji next to the places that had both the best wings and drinks. And they were definitely very late for calling Tito, the smelly little bastard...

Fuck him, she thought, he can wait a little longer. We’ve got half a galaxy between us. Baby thought about the gangster and the debt she owed and fury set in. Money was what she needed. Cold hard digital credits to deposit on that shellfish mother fucker.

Baby tapped her second favorite place and set the course. If they couldn’t find some scumbags to give them even a few scummier jobs, at least they could get drunk. Now, Baby thought, now, I’ve gotten to the part of my life where I’m consciously making terrible decisions. And I’m probably going to get myself killed, but that’s OK. Seriously, what the fuck do I have to lose?

Let’s hold off on calling the little shit and maybe find a quick job or two, Baby said. Get some cash in case we have to run? Tito really wanted those diamonds for some reason and that shrimp has a temper. And a freaky head. I hate shrimp heads, they’re so gross.

"‘We’ have to run? Do you mean ‘We’ as in the royal ‘We’, or are you talking about the two of us?" Chad stopped grooming himself to look at her. First, he gave her a questioning look in the eyes, then they drifted up and down her body. He was looking at her outfit, judging her once again. She needed to go shopping.

I’m not going to fire you, Baby said. I’ve got a horrible reputation as a partner. I don’t need one more bad review online.

Chad crossed his arms and pouted as he stared into deep space. And your pay sucks. You know that, right?

That’s probably what keeps all the decent pilots a good, safe distance away from me.

I think your inability to match colors with the appropriate fabrics keeps people away, Chad said. He pursed his lips as he looked her up and down and Baby wished she had a blanket, anything to cover herself.

Baby gritted her teeth as she plotted the course. As much as she hated the idea, she was stuck with Chad. If only he’d had at least one good recommendation on his resumé. No one wanted to work for her. Baby decided she needed a few drinks.

IV

Gascyria was the largest gas giant in the galaxy. The clouds above its fierce swirling blue and green atmosphere were a busy hub for space travelers. Never-close all-you-can-eat buffet. Strip clubs to drool over any species you wanted to see naked. Miniature golf and laser tag. The sky was constantly packed with ships and trash and any kind of shady business you could imagine during its seventy-six-hour day.

The bass noise coming out of the Space Hooters® was loud enough to be heard in the vacuum of space. The thrumming, beating, with an erratic, quasi-musical under buzz didn’t make Baby feel any better as she and Chad stepped out of their ship. It was late and they had to take a spot in the back. Not a good spot. No, Baby never got a good spot. And there was the fresh, warm scent of beer and piss.

This place has the most disgusting bathrooms. But goddammit, they make a good mojito, Baby thought. Focus on the mojito. Let’s hope they didn’t run out of umbrellas again.

I love this place, Chad said. The girls here are hot.

Wait, Baby said, You’re into girls?

Chad turned up his nose and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Girl, no! But they’re hot. Last time I was here I bought