Squash Stack Studio

And now, the editors are pleased to introduce The Savage Arena (or How Skitterybones Gave Up Being a Pirate and Joined the Dirt Cheap Suicide Squad)

The entrance to the Savage Arena, guarded by The Intractable Cephalith. Every year ten contestants are invited to brave the labyrinth and confront the reigning champions. Few survive, but the rewards are great. This year the prize is the very lifeblood of the Arena itself – weapons! The winner will walk away with some of the finest weapons magic and technology have ever created. A worthy trophy of the utter savagery of . . . The Savage Arena!

Backdrop: A painting by Squash Stack Studio alumni Brent K., entitled “The People of the Eye: in which the burglar Red Tom, a worshipper of Terminus, God of Intuition and Prophecy, whose symbol is the Eye, suffers a prophetic dream wherein he walks a golden path across the infinite plane of his god’s holy realm, and is privileged to observe the manners and customs of the People of the Eye.”

A reader going by the unlikely handle of @DarkTalent recently wrote in requesting to know how contestants for The Savage Arena are selected. Although each encounter is unique, many survivors describe a visitation by three specters who deliver the invitation in an eerie whisper. As this scene depicts, the invitation to participate is not always welcome. Participation, however, is mandatory . . .

Backdrop: an illustration by P. Craig Russell for the story “Ariane and Bluebeard” by Maurice Maeterlinck. From the collection The P. Craig Russell Library of Opera Adaptations, Volume 2.

Now the contestants begin to gather.

From the east comes Captain Sturgeontrousers and his undead crew, hoisting aloft their nefarious implements.

And from the west approaches The Dirt Cheap Suicide Squad. A clash is imminent; the undead crew of the pirate ship Wastrel are no friends of TDCSS.

Backdrop: A painting by Squash Stack Studio alumni Brent K., entitled “Dark Tower”.

The two crews meet outside the entrance of the Savage Arena.

The editors have received another communication from the mysterious man known to the papers only as @DarkTalent. Our shadowy correspondent has observed the relaxed position adopted by Jack of the DCSS in the previous portrait. He inquires whether the solemn rite of Parley has been invoked during this meeting. Captain Sturgeontrousers assures us that “Parlee is fer them nancy ‘ollywood pirates. Any man says ‘parlee’ t’me, he’ll walk th’ plank!” Enlightening, we are sure. As it happens, Jack is generally just stoned out of his gourd and sometimes forgets he even has a rifle.

Backdrop: a bottle of “The Kraken” rum.

As the Dirt Cheap Suicide Squad and the undead crew of the pirate ship Wastrel meet outside the entrance of the Savage Arena, tempers flare. Harsh words are exchanged, among them “Arrr!” and “Oorah!”

Editor’s Note: At last, the truth is revealed. Our correspondent @DarkTalent, who we thought a well-meaning fan or at worst a hack journalist, has confessed to belonging to that lowest order of Reptilia – the so-called “civil servants” (see artist’s rendition above). This may explain why he has so much free time to pester us with questions. We happen to possess a comprehensive database of the shady personal habits of all such creatures, and normally would simply torpedo his career on general principle. However, he does post some really excellent content (you should go look) and he does say nice things about us. We will refrain from publishing the pictures. For now ….

Backdrop: the design inside the cover of David Foster Wallace’s novel The Pale King.

A Sasquatch journalist is stationed near the entrance of the Savage Arena to interview and photograph the contestants. Survivors can choose to have their photos printed on the side of a commemorative coffee mug; widows of the deceased receive a handsome gilded frame for the photo of their loved one. The boys of Suicide Squad pause to pose in front of the Intractable Cephalith before attempting to enter the Savage Arena. Their smiles are brave but brittle.

Captain Sturgeontrousers has no patience with nancy photographers. However, the pirate’s distaste for the medium does not stop him from claiming the poor shutterbug’s prize camera and his bag of lenses. The most hurtful losses are the bag itself (a gift from his adoptive Yeti parents) and the “special” lens he likes to bring with him for community interest pieces at the local YMCA.

Jack and Captain Sturgeontrousers approach the Intractable Cephalith together. Although the men of the DCSS and the zombies of the pirate ship Wastrel are rivals for the prize of the Savage Arena, the stone statue guarding the entrance is an obstacle in both their paths. As they draw near, the Cephalith awakens. “If you would enter the Arena, O brave contestants, you must each answer a riddle.”

“Fine,” Captain Sturgeontrousers growled. “Ga ane wit’ yer daft riddle, ye gurt blockhead!” The Cephalith twirls on its axis, revealing a smug face in the place of its previous menacing scowl. “When is a sturgeon like a pair of trousers?” it rumbles. Captain Sturgeontrousers stares in disbelief for a moment, and then explodes in wrath. “It’s not even a proper riddle!” The Cephalith retains its insufferable smug smile, and the pirate captain, overcome with fury, kicks his own hat into the nearest tree. “Fine,” The Cepahalith retorts. “If you want a real riddle, try this: ‘Many have heard me, but no one has seen me, and I will not speak back until spoken to. What am I?’”

Grumbling into his putrescent beard, Captain Sturgeontrousers sulks away, defeated.

Captain Sturgeontrousers orders his crew deeper into the jungle surrounding the Arena. In the secrecy of the foliage, he repeats the riddle the Cephalith has tasked him to solve. “Ye better wrack yer rotten brains!” he bellows at the zombies and skeletons under his command. “I sure as ‘ell cannae make any sense o’ yon blockhead’s daft riddle!” But Skitterybones, pictured in the foreground, is not listening . . .

Backdrop: Dinotopia by James Gurney, page 13.

The editors of @tiny_suicide_squad would like to take this opportunity to remind our audience, particularly this @DarkTalent chap, that the events we chronicle are in fact fiction (see dictionary definition above). Shouting advice, warnings, catcalls, insults, or answers to riddles at the characters is about as effective as trying to teach public servants to make interesting knots in their neckties. We would also like to remind you that shouting the aforementioned at your iPhone is doubly ineffective, as the actors cannot hear you anyway.

If there are no further interruptions, we will continue with our story.

Backdrop: Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition.

Skitterybones has never been the sharpest saber in the arms locker. The image above is what we consider a fairly accurate artist’s rendition of the pirate’s mental capacity: namely, a bunch of rattling bones chasing after a butterfly. Unable to focus on his captain’s angry speech, Skitterybones wanders off and approaches the entrance of the Savage Arena . . .

Backdrop: From the final page of The Ice King of Oz by Eric Shanower.

The Intractable Cephalith is still laughing over Captain Sturgeontrouser’s hissy fit when Skitterybones approaches. Entranced by the way the statue’s laughter resonates down the narrow entrance of the Arena, Skitterybones calls out “Echo! Echo!” and giggles to himself as his voice bounces back. The Cephalith leaves off its own laughter and twirls on its axis, displaying an angry face. “Outwitted by a walking carcass,” it mutters. With a heavy sigh and a loud grinding of hidden gears, the Cephalith sinks into the floor, leaving the entrance to the Savage Arena open. With no orders from his captain to contradict him, Skitterybones wanders into the labyrinth, chooses a direction at random, and starts walking ….

When he comes to investigate the noise and sees the entrance to the Savage Arena standing open, Captain Sturgeontrousers wastes no time. “After me, ye gurt bunch o’ louts an’ scum!” he bellows. The undead crew of the Wastrel pour into the Savage Arena and fan out in search of a way through the labyrinth.

Meanwhile the Dirt Cheap Suicide Squad, having withdrawn for the moment to discuss tactics, now advances down the corridor to confront the Intractable Cephalith. The statue has regained its position blocking the entrance of the Savage Arena. The Cephalith watches serenely as the men take up firing positions. “To enter the Arena, you must answer this riddle,” the statue rumbles. “I get bigger when I eat but die weaker when I drink. What am I?”

Jack has no patience with riddles. He turns to the soldiers of the Suicide Squad. “FIRE!”

Ignoring the fusillade of bullets, grenades, and bazooka shells, the Intractable Cephalith slides into the floor of the Arena, satisfied that the riddle has been answered. For the second time today, the Savage Arena stands open.

As the Dirt Cheap Suicide Squad moves cautiously into the Savage Arena, that kid whose name no one ever bothered to learn draws near Jack. “Hey, Captain,” he whispers. “What do you think about that riddle, huh?”

“Sounded like a bunch of sukiyaki to me, son,” Jack retorts. The kid whose name no one ever bothered to learn looks back in wonder at the place where the Cephalith disappeared into the floor.

“I wonder what the answer was,” he whispers.

Meanwhile outside the Savage Arena . . . a whip-wielding catwoman subdues a Dire Squirrel while ceratopsians battle for dominance. In the distance a hungry velociraptor perches atop a Cephalith, watching the contests with interest ….