Month: June 2024

When Jack Outreacher rolled the bookmobile into town, he could taste trouble. Also dust. The bookmobile tended to kick up a lot of dust. Partially because while most of the bookmobile’s shelves were packed with new, exciting reads, Jack Outreacher liked to keep at least one small section of dusty old classics. Because Jack Outreacher was, himself, a classic in many ways. A fella who liked to work hard and get his hands dirty. Someone who didn’t take any disrespect, which rowdy groups of guys seemed to give him all the time in diners, a constant in his life that made no sense because if you were going to pick on a guy who walked into a diner, would you really select the guy who looks like he could disintegrate a 3XL Hanes Beefy T by thinking about flexing? I don’t know about you, but if it’s me we’re talking about, I’ll maybe pick a fight with someone who couldn’t bend an iron lamppost around me in a knot, Superman-style.

Outreacher opened up the bookmobile for business, and the large bus rocked from side to side as Outreacher stepped down the stairs. He’s big is what I’m getting at here. I know I’m supposed to “show, not tell,” but he’s so ridiculously big and strong that showing alone doesn’t cut it, and I have to break the cardinal rule of “show not tell” and instead “show AND tell” in order to give you some idea of just how massive this dude is.

As Outreacher stepped into the dusty parking lot, his feet cratered into the ground. It was, after all, only a parking lot meant to accommodate full-sized vehicles, not a man of Outreacher’s stature.

That’s when Outreacher spotted the bald, shining head of his nemesis.

“Outreacher,” the bald man called from across the lot.

“Beazös,” Outreacher said quietly. Quietly for him, but in reality the vibrations of his vocal cords caused a minor earthquake in Italy. Please donate what you can to aid in the relief efforts.

The bald man crossed the lot and stood before Outreacher. “Well,” he said, “This is a cute ride you’ve got here. I mean, I’m having a new reservoir built to fit my superyacht, but yours is nice, too. In fact, I think I’m going to build that reservoir…right…here.”

Beazös indicated the humble library outpost that Outreacher had constructed with his bare hands. The guy at Home Depot tried to sell him on a trowel to help him with the brickwork, but Outreacher found that if he flattened his hand, he could easily spread concrete. Plus, man had yet to design a trowel that didn’t break whenever Outreacher attempted to hold it gently.

Beazös went on, “I don’t think the library is of much use to folks these days. I can deliver them books in less time. Well, less-ish time, sometimes, and at a much lower price…than competing bookstores. The library is free, but still. Let’s say I deliver in ‘Less Time*’ with an asterisk. Outreacher, I think your days here are numbered.”

With this last statement, Beazös poked Outreacher in the chest, which immediately broke every bone in Beazös’ finger.

“Ow, that hurt,” Beazös said. “You’ll pay for that, Outreacher. You and your precious little library will pay for that…dearly.”

Beazös turned to walk away, then stopped and said, “Seriously, ouch, I think my finger is broken. How is that even possible? What ARE you?”

Outreacher sighed. He’d have to find a way to stop the evil corporate takeover using his librarianship and possibly his outrageously huge body and outsized strength at some point when the situation called for it. Which, let’s be real, it totally will because it always does.

Outreacher always wanted to respected for his mind, but when you can grab a full-grown man by one wrist and throw him over a modestly-sized shed, clearing the shed completely, it’s kind of a waste to never use that sort of strength.