Mantisman - All The President's Men Face The Mantisman

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Description: What's this, true believers? A bank robbery in Metro City? The police nowhere in sight? Vice-President Agnew?! Unluckily for these evildoers, while they were able to plan around the law, they weren't able to plan around the vigilant virile symbol of justice, the nightlight of justice in this dark room with the curtains closed, the masculine Mantisman! But does even he truly understand the future consequences of his actions? Find out next Mantis log, same Mantis website!

Metro City went through an unprecedented time of crisis that it may not yet ever fully recover from... well, that's what the news anchors said on those darkest of days about the realm of Majigen.
The more cynical, or those more daring satirists who are willing to go the extra mile for the ratings - have joked that you know that Metro City is back to normal when you have yourself an old-fashioned bank robbery.
Today would be a heck of a day for the 17th National Bank, ranked 17th in the United States in every field imaginable. The logistics as to how this is possible are staggeringly boring as much as they are improbable, but today the 17th National Bank may hold itself a few firsts... maybe some seconds... as an unmarked van rolls up the street.
"Listen up," says a nondescript dark-skinned man in a Richard Nixon mask as he looks back from over the wheel, "I don't want this to be any worse than this already is. Let's just go in, grab the money, get out."
"I understand," says a blonde caucasian man who seems to have this all professionally sorted out, neatly setting all sorts of handy tools into a suitcase and handing them up to him as he puts on a mask of... Spirow Agnew? They sell Vice-Presidential costume masks? Okay, sure. They do now. "Safecracking tools are ready."
"I'll take those," says the Nixon masked man, "now I want you two to make sure this goes right. Keep everyone down, yell if the police show up, better we get out with our lives than with nothing."
"Got it," says a large, burly man of hispanic ethnicity, putting on a mask of... Charles Colson? Director of the Office of Public Liason? This is stretching suspension of disbelief too far. "I'll drive on the way out."
"Okay. We don't have much time to do this. The police already investigating the bombs that got set off in the sewers, so we roll in and do this clean." The Nixon-masked man pulls out... a banana? "Let's get to work."
The Agnew-masked man is speechless, professionally going along with the little cues.
The three of them roll past a conspicuously large photo booth along the way in. It's not too crowded a time here. Given it's the 17th National, there's a few other banks people would rather do business in around these parts.
"Everyone down!" The Nixon-masked guy shouts as he holds up the banana - expertly covered in a rag. Security falls for it and immediately falters. The heavier guy in the Colson mask quickly confiscates their stuff and stands around the entrance. The blonde guy - who is now becoming awfully familiar to the narration, come to think of it - keeps watch around those customers present. The Nixon-masked guy picks up the suitcase in his other hand.
"Just let me through, get what I'm after, and no one gets hurt!"
The police are busy enough that a call for a robbery will get a delayed response. The usual security staff are fully unarmed.
These people need a hero... but they could just wait a while for the police to sort this out later. This robbery might go by very clean as it is, what with everyone involved being cooperative to avoid casualties and chaos.

"Thank you, Enrique. I, I've got it from here."

Fritz made sure to shake the young man's hand, turned out his "Uber" driver had actually been one of those rare fans of the series growing up, and the two had a long about the young man's theory regarding Mantisman being a direct metaphor for Jesus, using lots of passionate and colorful language that nearly made the older man a little flabberghasted to say the least. But he was very nice and it was a great way to distract him from the fact that Fritz had not a lot of money.

Truth be told, he'd only been coming here to check his balance, and perhaps to haggle and barter with the bank teller until she could change his situation. It would work this time, he had a good feeling deep in his upper shins about this one! But that changed when the car pulled up, and both Fritz and Enrique saw men wearing vaguely political masks enter the building. Enrique's eyes got wide, and he turned around, shouting and whispering to the old actor all at the same time.

"Yo Mr. L, they gonna rob that fuckin' bank! Yo my cousin's in with the cartels, they do this shit all the time!"

"I see that, Enrique. And I see they've illegally parked as well. You call the cops and pull around the back where it's safe. I'm getting off right here and doing something about this."

"Oh shit, are you serious? Yo I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. L, my cousin told me that when they encounter someone who's a fighter, they cut off their dick and balls, and shove 'em in their mouths and let 'em bleed out an' shit. Are you sure you wanna go fight these guys?!"

Fritz, missing everything his newfound friend had just said, suddenly turned and stared at Enrique with eyes that looked like they came from the ocean, that's how blue they were.

"The bank is one of society's most important of institutions, and I won't let these hooligans and ruffians get away with robbing the citizens of Metro City blind! Do you believe in the Mantisman, Enrique?"

"Holy shit, yes I do! La Mantis Es Jesús! La Mantis Es Jesús!"

Fritz turned around and nodded, satisfied. Grabbing his compact suitcase, he exited the vehicle, and made for a most convenient photobooth.

Five minutes later, Richard Nixon's emergency transaction was almost complete. Unfortunately this bank's computers hadn't been updated since Y2K, and the vault doors actually had gotten stuck and needed to be fiddled with for a little while, but it seemed to all be working. Just as a big bag of money was lifted up by the extremely bored looking teller girl, however, an older, gravely voice rang out throughout the halls of the bank.

"Sir, I'm afraid there's no hats or headwear allowed in the bank, I'm going to have to ask your gentlemen to remove those masks at once!"

As 'Colson' turned around at the sound, a green velvet-clad fist came rocketing forward, colliding with that rubbery mask and filling the entire room with the deafening sound of an out of control trumpet. Hitting people before the sound was a burst and display of light and color, an explosion of stripes and polka-dots that would invade the vision for just a moment, with what looked like one word accompanying it all. 'BAM!', exclamation mark and all, as moments later Colson stood slack and about to fall...into a glass coffee table in front of him.

Seeing this, Mantisman panicked and reached out quickly. "Oh no!" He grabbed the back of the big man's outfit, gently and gingerly moving him toward the tacky rubbery carpeting that was put down beside the table. Then and only then did he let go and let the thug safely fall down to dreamland. And that's when he turned his attention to the other two, putting his hands on his hips, sucking in his gut a little, and watching them with blue eyes under his own mask, those green antennae seeming to move on their own accord every so often. How did they do that?

"Well, gentlemen? What's it going to be?"

The largest thug of the three is out like a lightweight, like a tiny little bug within the claws of the praying mantis. The Nixon-masked man looks over his shoulder and-- well, he's wearing a mask, but one can just imagine the cringe. Or the panic. Maybe both.
"Stop him! Stop him!" This is just being shouted on principle. If the biggest of the three couldn't withstand a single... 'BAM,' what chance do any of them have?
The most unimpressed of the three - or perhaps the most in-tune with what's going on! - appears to be the blonde caucasian guy in the mask of that terrible corrupt former Vice President mask, who already has his dukes raised as he moves in upon the rebirth of a man, a style, a life that was long thought lost decades ago in the name of 'advancing standards in storytelling and character design.'
Wordlessly, the Agnew-masked guy starts to circle around our unlikely hero from a previous time, as though on some deep level, there is this understanding that he does not have a speaking role as their fists shake to and fro in what would be considered a ready stance by a set's extra.
...It could really just be that everyone involved here is too bewildered and confused to comment...

COMBATSYS: Henchman has started a fight here on the right meter side.

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                                  |-------\-------\0         Henchman

COMBATSYS: Mantisman has joined the fight here on the left meter side.

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Mantisman        0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0         Henchman

COMBATSYS: Henchman focuses on Henchman's next action.

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Mantisman        0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0         Henchman

The vice president circled, and the Mantis mirrored his movements. A few things were obvious about the man in the most ridiculous costume and cape.

1, he was much older than your typical martial artist.

2, he was built almost like a football player...if that football player was past retirement. Big shoulders, meaty arms and thick legs, with yes, a bit of a paunch around his gut.

3, despite these previous two points, he stood and composed himself like he knew what he was doing. He had footwork like a boxer, with head movement to match. So it might have been surprising that this big, bulky bruising boxer instead danced in, crossing his legs as he stepped into the thug's personal space...and brought down what looked like a karate chop, aiming for the side of the masked man's neck. He even gave a battlecry, something that only people on tv did...right?


COMBATSYS: Mantisman successfully hits Henchman with Medium Punch.

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Mantisman        0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0         Henchman

Blood sprays out the side of the mouth of the man who would assume the masked guise of one of the worst Vice Presidents in United States history, staggering back as the incredibly ridiculous aging superhero gives about as real a punch as anyone could, knocking over one of the velvet ropes around the customer line as they catch themselves from completely collapsing over.
They are the 17th-best velvet ropes in the nation, after all. They're stable and comfortable!
...Most extras would call it good there by stage direction, on that one single punch, but this one still stands? It's perhaps the only little detail that seems to break from the theatrical nature of what the hey's going on.
One security guard babbles incoherently in an attempt to get everyone to calm down. At least one other customer on the ground is yelling. They're easily tuned-out noise.
Meanwhile, the man in the Nixon mask is too busy fiddling with... everything. The safe deposit boxes are being stubborn, the bag is a bit greasy, so many little things are going wrong fast.
With a forward lunge, the guy in the Agnew mask hurls himself around waist-level in an attempt to blandly, yet quickly, tackle the superhero of an earlier generation over!

COMBATSYS: Mantisman dodges Henchman's Tackle.

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Mantisman        0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0         Henchman

Of course, the vigilant eyes of The Masculine Mantisman saw everything. The scared people laying on the floors, the security guards trying to keep everything contained and controlled. He wanted to tell them it was alright, but before he could do that he saw that the masked bankrobber was trying to tackle him like a linebacker catching an unsuspecting Quarterback offguard.

"But this is the wrong game for that!"

Who was he talking to? Why did he yell that out? Chances are nobody else had the frame of reference to understand that quip, but Mantisman was so much in the zone that it didn't matter. He let the smaller man run right into his bulky and (mostly) muscular form, but skill and a highly slippery marble floor mixed with shoes with very little traction would prove to be Agnew's undoing. History, it seemed, was repeating itself. (What?)

Because Mantisman immediately reached out to put his hands on the Henchman's shoulders, and his left booted foot came up to place itself in the tackler's gut. There, the momentum of that running charge caused the older man in the cape and cowl to slip backwards much, much more violently than he would have liked, which had the advantage of launching said Henchman behind him, somewhere. Unfortunately for Agnew, Mantisman was back up on one knee, and pivoting his upper body. It seemed that one of the pouches on his giant pleather belt were open, and what looked like three, big rubbery, green and yellow projectiles were thrown out. Each one was weighted and about as heavy as a blackjack, and each one was bouncier than a Mexican jumping bean, ricocheting off of walls and desks and floors, all threatening to slap the poor henchman across the face and general body area. Not the most...devastating of techniques, but they could hurt and be very, very annoying!

COMBATSYS: Mantisman successfully hits Henchman with Mantuswings.

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Mantisman        0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0         Henchman

It almost seems rehearsed, somehow, just the way all of those Mantuswings seem to coalesce and clobber this guy about as hard as the investigative hearings on this man's supposed corruption charges. Doubled over by one, slapped across the face by another enough to shift the mask to one side, and then the third going for the knees, falls over onto all fours with a loud gasp and a prolonged exhale.
He really does have a strong resemblance to that guy that was seen getting savaged by the demonic biker on TV. Huh. It's a curious detail easily missed in the bigger picture.
"Of all the times to-- I just can't get-- what's even-- why is this happening, I'm," the Nixon mask guy starts getting fed up, lifting up his mask briefly (back turned to the Mantisman, of course) as he goes over something on one of the drills in one hand, slapping their forehead on the other. Things aren't going too hot on his end.
Mantisman, however, has no time to step forth and help the poor robber out, lest he be made into a pusillanimous pussyfooter as the Agnew-masked henchman - why don't we just stick with henchman, from here on out? - grabs a handful of supplies on a nearby desk... a few pens, a few business cards - and just hurls them in a bundle of office supply waste worthy of an audit as if to disorient.

COMBATSYS: Mantisman blocks Henchman's Small Thrown Object.

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Mantisman        0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0         Henchman

With the henchman momentarily taken care of, Mantisman was able to turn around, and hold up his hand to assure and comfort the scared people of this fine establishment.

"Have no fear, citizens, these denizens and cretins aren't going to take a single red dime of your hard earned money, this the Mantisman swears! And you're doing a fine job as a security guard, young man. I couldn't be prouder of you today."

While the men and women on the floor were looking at the costumed hero like he was crazy, the teller was chewing gun and standing right next to Nixon, looking at her nails every so often as he hurriedly and desperately tried to work as fast as he could.

"You know, Becky got it stuck last week and I told them it was gonna happen. I mean the girl's come here fresh from Ohio, whaddayou expect? I mean she don't even know what a pie is, I tried invitin' her out with the girls a few days ago for a pie, an' she told me she's allergic to pecans! I mean have you heard anythin' so crazy in your life? Anyway you gotta bang it on the side, try banging it on the side."

Mantisman wasn't close enough to hear the head robber intimidating the teller he was going to try intimidating earlier, but the man in grey and green wasn't going to stand for this thuggery! But before he could, the henchman was back with the dirtiest of pool! Eyes wide, Mantisman lifted up his left hand and raised that cape of his upward, turning his body away from the onslaught of TPS reports and Monday morning blues. When the cape was dropped, and he saw a pen mark on this expensive green velvet cape...he looked up in anger, those baby blues shining like a freshly irritated dragon.

"That's it, buster! If you don't want to play nice, then you shouldn't be playing at all! It's time for you to be grounded and sent to the metaphorical room of the US justice system!"

Even as he spoke he was running forward, actually kind of sliding/skiing towards the henchman, given the slippery floor and how frictionless his shoes were. His left hand was reaching into his belt...and brought out two wooden sticks painted green and yellow, connected by a thin chain. Closing the distance, Mantisman swung them expertly, whooshing through the air menacingly and threatening to sting a lot worse than a couple of measily rubber thrown...things. Just what were those things, anyway?

COMBATSYS: Mantisman successfully hits Henchman with Claws Of The Mantis!.

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Mantisman        0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0         Henchman

"I thought dimes were gray," one of the concerned citizens says to another from the relative safety of the floor, a pudgy 20-something guy.
"That's the first thing you question about all this?" Says another, in their late 40s. "Look at that guy. Don't you recognize him?!"
"...No. Should I?"
Meanwhile, the security guy gives a thumbs up prior to lowering his hand back on the ground, more because one of the henchman's feet come close to stomping it (by accident).
"Thanks, you're a peach," the Nixon-masked guy says as he bangs it on the side, voice labored and annoyed under immense pressure. The drill whirs to life. "Now I'm going to get as much money as I can carry and I'm going to pretend this day never happe--"
There is a scene of the henchman getting beat about the face and upper body, walking backwards across the slick checkered floor (ranked 17th-cleanest of all floors in banks) as the Agnew mask starts to warp and buckle under the continued abuse of the surprise superhero, writhing and twisting under the abuse as the Mantisman goes on the offensive with the signature weapon of the insectoid masked hero!
"Ma'am, I know I'm robbing you," the Nixon-masked guy says, not looking up, "do NOT tell me they're whipping my guy with nunchucks like some kind of assassin reptile."

COMBATSYS: Henchman takes no action.

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Mantisman        0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0         Henchman

Continuing that onslaught, Mantisman steps forward every time the henchman retreats, his cape swirling and flowing from the motion and the air around them, those antennae twitching in excitement(?) every time a solid blow was struck and landed. Finally when it looked like the would-be robber was staggered and dazed, then and only then would Mantisman began to truly twirl and swing those 'chucks' around impressively(and threateningly, if someone were on the receiving end of them). He'd twirl them before finally swinging them down...and stopping them inches from the henchman's face. After a few moments of tension, those Mantis Claws would be pulled away suddenly, and the hero's left fist would come from a crooked angle, aiming vaguely for his chin and jaw area.

If there was impact, and the man fell like Mantisman predicted, then and only then would he turn around, swinging his cape behind him as he did so, and starting toward 'Nixon'.

"Now about that unregistered withdrawal you're making, Mr. President. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to stop."

COMBATSYS: Mantisman successfully hits Henchman with Hook Punch.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Mantisman        0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1         Henchman

The henchamn falls for the clever ruse, perhaps too dazed from previous assaults to have ever truly considered the idea of 'feints' or 'fake outs' as opposed to 'keep trying to hit this guy like it is your only purpose in life.' The hook punch shears off the bottom half of the Agnew mask just like that, and maybe even loosened a couple teeth as well as the henchman hits the floor.
"Just like that. Just like that!" The Nixon-masked guy throws his hands up, giving up his work as he hefts up the sack full of what gains he could claim in one hand. "You listen to me! YOU LISTEN TO ME!"
In the other hand... the banana under the cloth is raised, and his hand goes shaky. "I AM NOT A CROOK!"
With that scream, he vaults over what barriers exist. Counter? Gone. Velvet ropes? Overcome. His foot speed is impressive. He's at peak physical condition. Just like that, blink of an eye, he's rushing right out the door.
"He's getting away!" One of the security guys says the obvious.
"Did... anybody ever actually try and call the police?" One of the citizens looking to make a deposit now seems to consider whether they should set their standards a little higher than the admittedly impressive 17th best.
"Look out! He's got a suitcase!" Who's got a suitcase? If the Mantisman looks, the first guy he hit right at the start of his involvement is still out--
There's the henchman again! Using the heavy case that held (and still has) a number of safecracking tools and other robbery niceties, blood pouring out of their nose, they seem intent to bring the case down upon the Mantisman's very skull!
The Nixon-masked man may yet have a head start in getting away. Can Mantisman overcome this surprise development and catch his prey between the claws of justice?!
Or will he be Concussed by the Corruption of the evil that once resided in the Capitol?!

COMBATSYS: Mantisman endures Henchman's Disorienting Blow.

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Mantisman        0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0         Henchman

Mantisman had only taken two steps forward, when a case of tools solved the problem of the meddling 'vigilante' with a decidedly sickening 'THUD!'. That cowl was nothing but crisp velvet with smooth satin on the inside for comfort during extra long shooting days, nothing that could prepare a grown man for being smashed over the skull. His brain rebelled and he dropped to one knee with a weakened cry of pain and emotion. He looked up, eyes trying to focus on anything...just anything.

He saw people, afraid. Mothers holding their children, young girls looking up fearfully. These people needed him. He was an actor, but these people, they needed someone to fight for them, someone willing to stand up and say, 'enough was enough, god darn it, no more nonsense!' And right now, the only person capable of doing that was himself. His aged jaw steeled itself, his eyes focused and narrowed, and the big bruiser slowly got up, and turned around. He inhaled deeply through his nose, he slowly clenched his fists, and he spoke low to keep his voice from shaking in anger.

"Ok, mister. You're in for it now."

And then Mantisman...ran past the henchman, running up to the far windowed wall, the one with the giant banner hanging down from the ceiling advertising their rates or some such. Very quickly the hunter of evildoers grabbed the banner, using it to support his weight as he started running across the wall in a very quick, very frightening manner(frightening because if not for that banner that was steadily ripping he'd be falling on his neck and skull.), and when it finally tore completely, that was when he pushed off, and descended upon his prey!

Grabbing his cape with both hands he spread it wide, the shadow no doubt looming over the poor Henchman as The Mantisman dropped down, feet first aimed for his midsection. It wasn't an incredible kick, but it had a big man's weight and momentum behind it. Whether he stayed standing, or whether he collapsed and had to be picked back up, either way would end with(ideally, if this hit) Mantisman grabbing said henchman by his shirt collar, throwing punch after punch after punch, his fists glowing with energy as he threw out big haymakers for the man's stomach, chest, face and chin, one after the other. Each time the symphony played and the light show began, dazzling everybody who saw.






Finally, the actor's arm was pulled back dramatically, leaning his body backward as well so that he could put his entire bodyweight into a dangerous, untrained jumping uppercut aimed for the man's chin. There were two fighters in gis who did this particular uppercut much much better. But that didn't mean that this wouldn't send the Henchman flying through the air like a cresent moon, if it hit.


COMBATSYS: Mantisman successfully hits Henchman with Mantisman Flies Again!.

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Mantisman        0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0         Henchman

There's a familiar scream tucked at the end, somewhere. Where have people heard it? It's the sort scream people hear everywhere... maybe that's a mystery for another time.
The only evidence in the short term for the henchman's continued existence would be the henchman-shaped hole through one of the teller booths. He may or may not have gone through the open vault. It's hard to tell, given the cacophony of colorful sound effects would have masked such an excruciating sound of meat and bone hitting things at speeds bodies were never meant to.
There's murmuring among those gathered. One-and-an-unspecified-numerical-amount-greater-than-zero thugs are hereby accounted for. The knocked out big guy, the blonde guy who someone else will have the pleasure of finding around the bank wherever he got knocked into...
By the corner of Mantisman's eye, he can catch the Nixon-masked man headed down an open manhole. Why not the van?! (Incidentally, there's a car key under the hand of the large guy near the entrance. So, van was ruled out by default, one supposes.)
Of course, if he doesn't...
"He's going down the sewer!" Calls out one of the security guys as he helps another up to their feet. "Th-thank you, mister... we'll take care of the rest here, you just--"
He probably means 'the entire situation' and not 'the bank, you go down the sewer,' but duty may yet call...!

COMBATSYS: Henchman takes no action.

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Mantisman        0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Henchman can no longer fight.

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Mantisman        0/-------/-------|

As it was, Mantisman was breathing mighty heavily, and he was swaying just a little from the impact of that toolbox. Still a little dazed, still slowly seeing color bleed back into the world, he heard the security guard speak and looked at the manhole in the ground. He put two and one together, patting the guard on the shoulder before his math could be checked.

"Say no more, citizen. The darkness of theft and general harassment shall be dragged into the light of justice and proper consequences!"

With that said, the big man was staggering over toward the manhole, crouching down and adjusting his 'utility' belt even as he grabbed the edges and slowly lowered himself.

Well, that was the plan, anyway. With his body weight, and with how long it's been since he's had a proper, honest long gym session, he drops down until his feet are dangling and kicking, and he's looking around in concern. This happened until his fingers truly felt the stress of this position and he dropped down suddenly, looking around and noting just how dark it was. That's when he rummaged in that belt again, pulling out his Mantis Claws, and unscrewing the end of the green one. Turning a few dials a yellow beam of light came out to illuminate the darkness. With this satisfied, the do-gooder finally traversed that dark tunnel, on pursuit of one of the most controversial presidents in recent American history.

Oh, and also the bank robber.

COMBATSYS: Mantisman has ended the fight here.

It's a spacious sewer. It is, by sewer standards - by METRO CITY STANDARDS - very clean. They must've done maintenance work down this tunnel recently, and lots of it. (One still may not want to go swimming.)
Mantisman won't have to go too long, or too hard, to follow the sound of someone running. Hurrying. One gets the idea they're not sure where they're going either, just holding onto hope after hope that they lose whoever might follow them.
A hope in vain, for there is no hope for criminals to avoid the Mantisman.
"STAY BACK!" Shouts that voice of the Nixon-masked man, holding up something that in this lighting could well be a real gun. It's hard to say. "I told you. I'm not a crook!" Is he going to run down that schtick with the Nixon mask? He already said it on--
"I lost my business to... to that abyss! I've been in that deepest valley! And everyone looking on up from above the highest mountain, those fat cats in the banks... those vultures in the insurance industry, they won't pay up!" He still violently shakes that thing in his hand that really might be a gun in this super-dim lighting.
"I didn't come out of my mother thinking I'd grow up to wear some dumb Nixon mask and rob a bank! I'd... I'd rather be a one-time robber and do what I believe is right to get my life back on track after..."
He's visibly faltering. "I'm just a man! Nick Dixon! A man is not finished when he's defeated... he's finished when he quits. I'm not going to quit..."
There's no clicking sound, but he's pointing that gun-shaped thing towards Mantisman, and one shouldn't take any chances down here. Or anywhere. Gunshots are bad news, if he's going to shoot that thing. (Editor's note: yes, it's still a banana.)
Incidentally, somewhere between where the two now stand, there is a conspicuous set of controls that look like they may control the floodgates. Like... the one situated just a ways behind the panicking would-be robber.
Mantisman may intristically know what to do to bring this do-badder to justice, but boy won't it be messy!

Nixon ran, and the Mantisman pursued at a leisurely pace, one that let him breathe normally and regain what energy he could. He was still breathing heavy, and still sweating quite a bit when he finally caught up with the masked gunman. In the darkness he could tell that whatever model that handcannon was, it wasn't to be taken lightly. Long barrel, that could do a lot of damage to a human body if he wasn't careful. Instead, the antennae of the Mantisman twitched slightly from the tension of it all(was that really why they did?), and moments later the actor under the mask exhaled loudly, and spoke softly.

"Nicholas, it doesn't have to come to this. I got divorced a few years ago, old lady couldn't stand having to constantly compete with the cowl. And she took my head off in court, she took damn near everything. But I recovered, and I rebuilt. I didn't go around robbing banks or waving around high calibur weapons. So just throw the gun over, put the money down, and we can talk. Just put d-"

That was when the gun was aimed at him, and on pure instinct Mantisman's hands moved. Left hand gripping the heavy duty lever, with a sudden burst of strength and was yanked down. And red lights all around started blinking. This was bad.

There is buzzing. There is flashing. There is an uncomfortable fact that dawns upon the gun(?)-wielding Nixon-masked man. Where in the system did they set off bombs for maximum attention by the police so they could pull this off?
The floodgate starts to lower, and Nick looks over his shoulder with mouth ag-- well, let's assume his mouth is agape, because it ought to be!!
The floodgate's removal is gradual, and then sudden. The volume of liquid matter behind it is - in addition to being incredibly foul-smelling - humongous. No longer held up by a gate, the water (plus who knows what else) flows forth like a crashing wave.
Nick Dixon does not get far at all before he's swept up in the wave, flinging what he's holding at Mantisman not out of purpose but out of panic. The bag of loot is intact. The weapon, flying towards Mantisman and possibly pegging him in the head...!
Is a banana. Nonetheless, Mantisman has little choice but to flee lest he pay far, far more than he may be comfortable to get his costume dry-cleaned!!

With incredible reflexes Mantisman grabs the bag with his left hand, and the weapon with his right. A banana.

"A banana?!"

The long yellow fruit was quickly thrown right back, and with no time to process the absurdity of it all the actor in the superhero suit had to high-tail it and run as fast as his thick legs would carry him. There was no leisurely pace anymore, and he felt like his eyes were gonna bug out of his skull and his heart would rip through his ribs and sternum at any moment it was beating so hard. God decided there was going to be a flood, and Fritz was out here without his Ark. He just hoped he could make it before being forced to grow gills.

Somehow, miraculously, he managed to leap up just in time, grabbing the edge of that manhole and pulling himself up and through to safety, hurling that bag of cash out through the air, to let it land on the concrete. Mantisman was on his back, sucking in oxygen through his mouth, looking up at the clouds in the sky and trying to feel anything in his lungs other than constant burning. He was faintly aware of needing a nap right about now.

As Mantisman comes out, he may see that the police have already arrived - as has two separate ambulances. Obviously, the two men on stretchers would be the sidekicks and henchmen of this nefarious bank robbing plot. Oh hey, they found the blonde guy...
The blonde guy casts a look with what range of motion they have for their neck in their advanced state of injury, casting a glance before the gasping Mantisman. It's a gesture that probably warrants no further thought or signifiance - he is a defeated criminal who will not soon menace the good people of Metro City and beyond again. Right?
"Excuse me," says one police officer. He looks stern. Overworked. Upset. He smells really bad, too. Maybe he was one of the officers who had to be at the scene of the sewer bombings not long ago, so one couldn't hold it against him for... being in a foul mood, or... possibly not recognizing the significance of the person laying down on the ground before him.
"Officer Hicks, MCPD, got some questions to ask of you..."

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it online!" Okay, what year is this? This seems self-aware that it's long past the days of print journalism's dominance of being the communicator of world events, but come on. Who even does this any more? Someone waves around a tablet on a popular news website...
'BANANA REPUBLICANS FAIL TO ROB TREASURY!' There's pictures of all three of them. Nick Dixon seems the most humiliated, especially given he's covered in offal in a truly awful part of his life, now stripped of his humanity as a to-be convicted felon and laughing stock. Guy in a Richard Nixon mask wielding a banana. Pff.
A laughing stock that would even have Florida shaking their heads in shame! That'd be a real killing joke, that...

Log created on 05:57:17 08/23/2016 by Mantisman, and last modified on 20:10:38 08/23/2016.