#10 – Pop Guns’ Blackberry Punch

| November 13, 2011 | 0 Comments


 GRIEV – Tensions rise behind closed doors at the UN, where rumor has it negotiations between president Istalinov Sirrah and the mediators representing the families of the more than 300 “political prisoners” Sirrah has kept in the nation’s Gulags for almost a decade now have come to an abrupt ending.

It was the dawn of the year 2000 when Sirrah’s “Militant Front for a Unified Kafkastak” movement dethroned the royal family and assumed control of the country. The popular support Sirrah counted with at the time, analysts say, was one of the deciding factors of his victory. However, it’s been a decade of terror for the citizens of the Easter European nation, who went from being oppressed by a despotic monarchy to being oppressed by the military who once were charged with protecting them.

 With civil unrest starting to boil and riots becoming an every day event for the kafkastaki people, the announcement that the overnight world sensation and Billboard chart-breaking Dutch trio “Pop Guns”, who first came into the spotlight with their very controversial cover of Sinatra’s classic “I did it my way” and even more controversial music video which won them their first Grammy, would be having an impromptu concert right in the capital city of Griev has caught everyone in both the entertainment and political world by surprise.

 Spokespersons for the now millionaire group comprised of lead singer/guitarist Raspberry De’Laight, bassist/other lead singer Blueberry Bunn and drummer/backup singer Blackberry Punch have denied the accusations that the concert is a giant marketing plot designed to attract international audiences with what some journalists are already calling “a tasteless display of shock tactics in the face of human tragedy”.

 “The girls have gone completely out of their way and have put themselves and their staff in danger all in the hopes that they can bring a little joy and entertainment to the kafkastakies” said the group’s manager and producer Conrad Teally yesterday morning during a press conference. “The girls have all heard about the situation in Griev and in Kafkastak in general and they very selflessly just wanted to give these good people a small token of good will and solidarity. A few hours of music and levity where they can forget all the ugliness and enjoy themselves”.

 Disingenuous as it may sound to try and sell this as the truth, Teally, who rose to the top of the music industry during the late 70s only to crash and burn alongside Disco during the mid 80s and has miraculously managed to once again catch lighting in the bottle with Pop Guns’ first two albums, is actually not lying. At least, not entirely.

 Inside sources have indeed confirm that Pop Guns’ surprise pit stop in Kafkastak has  aussd the group’s “Triple Fantasy” tour to go almost 5 million dollars over budget in order to have the National Football Plaza ready for tonight’s big show. Ironically though, it seems most of that money will be going directly into the pockets of the Kafkastak Tourism and Culture minister, Vladimir Kolcjac, who was in charge of expediting the process of issuing the multiple permits necessary for Pop Guns to set stage and perform within their borders.

And there is also the matter of president Sirrah receiving a personal invitation from the girls themselves to assist to tonight’s event, which seems to go completely against their hopes of providing the citizens with an escape from their very harsh national reality. Many expect tonight’s festivities to end in tragedy, yet Teally remains optimistic.

 “The girls want to bring the nation together. That is their number one goal tonight. They want to bring the people and the government together under one roof in the hope that music can show them a way to reconcile their differences and work together once again to build a new, better nation. The girls are still young. They’re still idealistic. They truly believe everything I just told you, and God bless them for it”.


Blackberry Punch had no place she’d rather be in the whole wide world.

It wasn’t just the celebrity aspect though. The fame. The awards. The appreciation. The beautiful designer dresses, the sound of the crowd going wild for you, their applause after your final bow. Those are the kind of things every little girl dreams with her whole life. Some more than others.

Blackberry spent much of a very rough childhood on the streets, neglected by her parents and cared for only by the thugs and dealers of her neighborhood who recruited her into their business. By fourteen, Blackberry had a police file taller than her. She spent the next two years in and out of juvi before her super powers started manifesting themselves.

Her super power, the eggheads had explained to her, was personal mass manipulation. She could make herself light as a feather and completely intangible or gain a ton or two of added weight, becoming more and more impervious the heavier she got. It was a talent she only started to fool around with by herself, but that she fully mastered and developed under the care of the UN handlers and trainers.

Now close to her nineteenth birthday, Blackberry was the older, more seasoned member of the group both in their front as celebrities as well as in their role as secret agents, which curiously enough seemed to be the part of this whole experience she enjoyed the most. Her years of living in the streets had developed in her a love of fear and danger. The more tense and life-threatening the situation, the more alive that made her feel.

Her psych evaluations and half of the handlers tried to stop at all costs that the Security Council drafted Blackberry for the team. They felt this particular personality trait could end up backfiring on both the team and the UN, as her need for extreme trills almost bordered on the pathological. Yet the Chief would hear none of it. He had scouted Blackberry himself. He had drafted her and kept a close eye on her for the entirety of her training. The paper pushers couldn’t understand it. There was no way. What that young woman had was something only field agents, people who’ve done the job and dirtied their hands can recognize in each other: The will to succeed and survive.

Still, the insistence of the psychiatrist had kept her from becoming team leader. Not that Blackberry particularly cared. She had no need to run the show. She actually preferred just being pointed to her target and then unleashed upon it, like a shell being shot off a tank’s barrel.

That was the good live.

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Category: Superhero

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