Caped Crusaders and Cocaine: A TLIARTP

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What is this?

A TLIARTP (Timeline in a reasonable time period)

Hopping on the TLIA-nondescript time, bandwagon?

Yes.

So what is this?

This is what happens when you read about the Columbian Conflict while reading Watchmen.

Wait what?

Read the title, look at the pic.

That is one stupid image, I mean it looks like it's for ants, seriously…Oh Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity Fuck.

Yep.

You do realize that's ASB?

Not if you do it right.

Have you been indulging in a certain titular substance?

No.
 
Bogota, Columbia. 1995.
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José was fairly certain he was going to die. He recognized the man approaching his little stand of bananas. He recognized him as the man who had stabbed Miguel a week ago after Miguel had pissed off some local cocaine dealer over the worth of some brass jewelry. Miguel had been dead before nightfall. Of course José's fat mouth had gotten him in trouble when he'd announced that he wouldn't buy no more from that guy. Now he was going to pay the price.

He held his head high, ready to face the man, maybe he could hd his own long enough to get help from a customer.

"Señor!" He yelled "Do you want a Banana? You must be hungry after a hard day's murder!" The man looked up, apparently confused. Apparently he wasn't coming for José, at least until the vendor had insulted him. He turned and began walking right towards José's stand. Passers by began to watch like one might watch a train wreck.

The man laughed, "I know you! The friend of that manwhore who though his pretty little necklace was worth more then dirt! Tell me, are you a manwhore to?" The man pulled out a knife and casually walked towards José. "Will you scream like a little girl?"

José began to panic and started stuttering "N..n.....no I won't…I mean a wouldn't, but it doesn't matter si…since you won't stab me.

The man cocked his head. "I won't? Can you fight me manwhore? I doubt you can."

"I…I can stop you."

"You can? With whose army?"

"I…" José had no chance to reply before a man's voice called out.

"Stop!" The voice was not a pleading one, it was not begging for José's life, but commanding the man stop. The voice's owner pushed his way through the crowd. He was tall and burly, and had light brown skin. But that was all anyone could tell, because he had a white ski mask, which was likely hell on a hot Columbian day.

The man turned towards the man in the mask and asked. "And who are you? Another manwhore?"

"My name isn't important." said the Masked Man "What is important is that you do not harm that man."

"Why?"

"He is innocent. It is you who is the scourge upon society! Now step away from him!"

"Get away boy! Who do you think you are? Superman?"

"I just want peace and justice on the streets, not scum like you."

"Call me scum, do you boy? Well let's see how well you fight." The man with the knife turned away from José and towards the Masked Man. He grinned and started walking towards his new target, José scurried away from the stand, watching on horror.

The Masked Man stepped forward in response and readied himself for a fight. The man with the knife started running towards him. The Masked Man stepped aside like a Matador and seized his opponents shirt, before throwing the assailant to the ground. The man with the knife stood up again, still wielding the knife. The fight resumed.

They fought for what seemed like hours, but for what was really 10 minutes. It finally ended when the Masked Man grabbed his opponents knife hand and turned it against him, stabbing the man in the gut. The Masked Man pushed his defeated attacker to the ground and turned away from the astonished crowd.

"You saved my life." Said José.

"And how many others died while I did so?" The Masked Man asked. "I must go now." And he began to walk away.

"Who are you?" Asked a women in the crowd.

"A man who had had enough of the lack of action." With that the Man ran down the street, dropping the knife as he left.

José's eyes flicked to the bleeding man on the street. The man was dying.

José shrugged his shoulders and began to pack up his cart, he needed to move locations, and fast.
 
That's it, one post?
It only took one post to get me hooked?

Are you SURE the titular substance hasn't been sprinkled on that post? :D
 
Interview with Radamel Falcao, who was a short lived "Máscara Amigable" in Santa Anna
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RF: I was hardly a major máscara amigable, Santa Anna wasn't that big and compared to other towns it wasn't as violent. I did it for maybe 7 months in '96 before I backed out. I was a drop in an ocean, you'll hardly ever hear anyone fondly remember "Los Puños de Dios". The area under my "protection" was just a couple of blocks and the biggest thing I ever got was a large enforcer for some cartel with FARC I beat up then tied to a sign post.

Interviewer: "Los Puños de Dios"?

RF: "The Fists of God". What can I say? I was a Maradona fan and some guy in Bogota had "The Hand of God".

I: What inspired you to start your vigilantism?

RF: [shrugs] It was the hot new trend you know? I was in good shape from football and every Máscara Amigable was getting big publicity. There was Blue Justice, Condor, The Boliviarian, and that was just the big guys in Bogota! So I got myself some pretty gloves, a black hood and started "patrolling".

I: How was it?

RF: I wasn't that tough, it was a relatively decent neighborhood. Not great but it wasn't in open war.

I: Did anyone know who you were?

RF: No one officially, though I'm sure some guessed, I knew most of the people.

I: The crimes?

RF: Petty. Fights over Cocaine, minor theft. Any murders that happened the perpetrators didn't stay in the area. I was more a referee then anything else. I was pretty damn small time. Once I helped the biggest guy in town, El Tungsteno track down a guy through the area but aside from the cartel enforcer I mentioned earlier I didn't do much. My "archenemies" so to speak were a pair of street urchins who absolutely despised each other and fought every day over something or other. I had to break them up all the time, but it never got serious.

I: What about the Cartel enforcer?

RF: I got lucky. He'd been tearing through Santa Anna and started into our neighborhood. He had a machine gun and shit. He ducked into an alleyway to take a piss, I'd followed him without the mask. I threw it on along with my gloves and snuck up behind him. Punched him in the back of the head, then kicked him in the balls. I took the opportunity to punch him in the face then knock him out. I gagged him, tied him to the post with some rope and was done.

I: So you weren't in favor of some of the more violent actions of the Máscara Amigables?

RF: Lord no. I never had the stomach for anything line some of the others did. I was just a guy riding the wave who got off at the right time.

I: Why did you get off?

RF: New guy in town, or at least a new public Amigable. Called himself "Libertad Rojo", "Red Freedom". Claimed to be a protector of the innocent and downtrodden. He was really just a FARC enforcer set up to inspire support. I'd heard rumors about right-wing Amigables organizing with government support and that was enough for me. I took off the costume, burned it, and went back to football.

I: So when you saw that the "Máscara Amigable" ideal was being coopted by various groups you quit?

RF: Pretty much. I didn't want to pick a side or be shoved into a crossfire. So I left.…others of course took a different path.
 
I was wondering where this was going, and then

Claimed to be a protector of the innocent and downtrodden. He was really just a FARC enforcer set up to inspire support. I'd heard rumors about right-wing Amigables organizing with government support and that was enough for me. I took off the costume, burned it, and went back to football.

I: So when you saw that the "Máscara Amigable" ideal was being coopted by various groups you quit?

and now you've got me
 
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