Goodiva - Excerpt

The car raced through the streets, bobbing and weaving through traffic. The chocolate brown skinned female driver, piloted the vehicle expertly flying through the streets at 100 mph. her destination was near, she slammed on the breaks twisted the steering wheel ever so slightly and sent the racecar into a spin the car turned a full 180 degrees and came to rest abruptly on the curb side.

She flings her driver side door open, and slides her long shapely legs down to the ground she stands, and turns to face her goal, the Little Black Duck, the toughest bar on the American continent and maybe even the world. Every slime, and sleaze, every bad guy, has sat on a stool at the Little Black Duck, and if they hadn’t yet they would tonight, for inside this “fine” drinking establishment, was an item that could very well rule the world and it was for sale.

First fixing her very stylish windblown Afro, then making her way to the front door of the bar, where three boys still to young to drink were roughhousing out front. Trying to make each others nose bleed, the lady all dressed in white from head to toe pointed her gloved hand at the boys and said “hey isn’t it passed your curfew?” the boys wished to protest, switchblades in hand, the woman in white looked at the boys, giggled a little, then proceeded to kick in the front door. The boys turned dropped there knives and ran home, they knew that door was heavily locked and weighted, as many times as they had tried to knock it down themselves. And any one who could knock down that door with one blow, could whup their butts.

The tall, graceful, young lady entered the bar. The usual ilk was absent. Then from behind the bar, came a shout, “hey lady this is a private party!” a man holding a shotgun, was standing there with authority.

The Lady in white replies sultrily, her hands on her gleaming white gun hilts, “Well I like to dance.”

The bartender cocks his shotgun, the black goddess draws her white high-tech sub machine gun pistols.

From the back of the bar, comes a ladies howl, “ kill her, kill her now, that’s my sister, Gooood-iva, kill her or she’ll ruin everything!”

Goodiva spins to face her new opponents, every one in the bar had a gun  pointing at her. “Badiva? I should have known. Still trying to destroy the world I see. Selling the dirty diamond, the only diamond that can power a stinewents death ray, a laser so powerful it could destroy a small town in one blast!”

“And Goodiva, you’re still trying to save the world.” Badiva snarls.

“God damn it!” Badiva barks. “Didn’t I tell you idiots to kill her”

Badiva grabs a gun out of one of the thug’s hands and fires rapidly at Goodiva. The bar ignites, with shattering glasses and liquor bottles exploding left and right!

Ducking, and dodging, bobbing, and weaving, Goodiva returned fire, laying waste to the room, her shining white hand machine guns dealing out hot torrents of death.

Goodiva stopped firing, her weapons smoking from the effort the just put forth. Scanning the crowd. Bad guy, and thug, of every kind littered the floor, but no sign of her sister was to be found.

Wham! Goodiva heard the back door slam, with cat like reflexes she sprinted for he back door and flung the door open. She stepped out into the back street, guns ready, and stood in the filth of the alley.

All that was left of Badiva, was her evil cackle, ringing through the night, she had escaped, with the dirty diamond, and found pleasure, in beating her sister.

But Goodiva knew, she would try to sell it again, and soon, and next time, Badiva won’t escape…