#18 – Jimmy “The Velvet Glove” Valentino

| November 18, 2012 | 0 Comments

Jimmy Valentino was a name feared on the professional boxing circuit, he had been quick like fox but packed the uppercut of a grizzly bear. He earned the nickname Velvet glove after his tenth straight win by knockout; they said his gloves must be lined with velvet the way he put guys to sleep.

Those days seemed like a whole life ago now. Jimmy had grown old and round; the beer belly hanging out of his dirty white vest suited him in his new role as barman. Jimmy ran the local watering hole for all the local thugs and drunks in Higharce, the place was called the Bears Uppercut. It was the only thing Jimmy had left to show for all the money he’d won boxing all those years. Well that and the old heavyweight belt he had hung up behind the bar.

Having proof he was a former champ seemed to stop any trouble coming Jimmy’s way. Somehow though old troubles seem to find new ways of catching you to you. Mike Grell caught up to Jimmy the night he walked into the Bears Uppercut doing Luca Bell’s dirty work.

“No fucking way. If it ain’t my old mentor Jimmy the Velvet Glove himself.”

Within three minutes of hearing these words Jimmy was on the dirty, stinking floor of the back alley behind his bar with Mike and his goons in suits laying the boots in to him.

“This is for you never officially retiring so I could win that god damn belt of yours.”

“Oh piss off you whiney little brat.” Jimmy managed to get out between the kicks to the ribs.

“Got some fight in you yet all man. How about we go a round right here? Get him up boys” Mike spat with a shit-eating grin all over his face.

The goons in suits pulled old Jimmy to his feet, bloodied and bruised, his dirty white vest even worse for the beating he’d taken.

Mike’s left jab came in at Jimmy and instinct took over, weaving right Jimmy caught him with a left of his own.

Blood ran from the now broken nose of Mike Grell. Wiping the blood away with the back of his palm he chuckled to himself.

“You’ve gone and done it now Jimmy old pal.”

His fine suit ripped and shredded falling to the floor as the change happened. His body covered in fur, his broken nose elongated and formed a muzzle. Mike grew and bulked out into the monstrous form of a werewolf. With one swift sweep of his arm he slashed at Jimmy the goons in suits looking on as their boss went to work.

Slashed and blooded across the chest, Jimmy spat his own blood on the floor.

“I might be old and a bit out of practice but let’s dance.”

Frozen for a moment as he tried to understand what was going on Mike watched as Jimmy went through a similar transformation, but Jimmy grew taller and wider then mike, his short fur speckled with grey like his hair. Jimmy stood proudly before Mike in his Werebear form.

“Yeah that’s right kid, I always was bigger and tougher then you. Wont no velvet glove knocking them fellas out back in the day. Just the left over power form being an alpha predator Werebear. Now I’d say you best change back and run home to your boss before you piss me off anymore.” The words sounds like the low rumble of a storm as they left the huge jaw of Jimmy in Werebear form.

It seems all kinds of creatures are gathering in the city of Highacre, old debts and new means not everyone’s leaving alive.


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Category: 2012

About the Author ()

Shaun was born, a baby, like most. He grew up in a small village in the U.K and went on to read The Hobbit, play tabletop fantasy games and see the greatest movie of all time, Die Hard. Through these wondrous events he grew into the man he needed to be. The one who spends his Saturday nights at home drinking Pepsi, (other fizzy pop brands are available) whilst writing comics he one-day hopes someone will actually draw into a nice pretty comic book. Until then he will just keep on writing. Shaun can be found on the Internet at his blog. Or if you’d rather have his words 140 characters at a time over on Twitter under the very imaginative and clever handle of @ShaunRichens

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