NOVEL FROG CHAPTER 15: WTF, Mannequins?
Atlas could hardly contain his excitement as he paced the gym’s experimental training room, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his latest, and arguably the most bizarre creation: the mannequin-launching machine. It was an idea that had come to him in a burst of inspiration—or perhaps skeleton-fueled madness.
Unlike the precise, well-engineered racquetball balls he’d used before, this contraption was a Frankenstein’s monster of rubber bands, pulleys, and bungee cords, all designed to hurl mannequins at the unsuspecting trainees. Not at super-speed—he wasn’t looking to kill anyone—but at a velocity he liked to call "leaping skelly speed." The whole thing was ridiculous, dangerous, and utterly untested, which only made Atlas more eager to see it in action.
“Amazon Prime, you beauty,” Atlas muttered to himself, marveling at the speed with which his absurd order had been delivered. One-day shipping had saved the day, and now, there was nothing stopping him from turning his twisted vision into reality. He was giddy with anticipation as he barked orders to his assistants.
“Alicia, can you grab me a group of three for the mannequin room?” Atlas called out, barely able to keep the grin off his face.
Alicia, who had been with Atlas long enough to know when things were about to get crazy, raised an eyebrow as she stared at him. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”
“You bet your ass I am,” Atlas replied, his tone a mix of excitement and determination.
She sighed and motioned for Ray to help set up the room. The mannequin-launching contraption wasn’t exactly a one-person job. The two of them exchanged glances, silently agreeing that this was going to be one of those days.
Ray, who was still getting used to Atlas’s unique methods, couldn’t help but ask, “I’m not really sure how to even score this, Atlas. What are they supposed to do?”
Atlas chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, that’s easy. The mannequins will come flying out, and these guys are going to have to try to chop its head off.”
Alicia, taken aback, blinked at him. “Wait, what? Chop its head off?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Whatever weapon they’re using—sword, shield, two shields, two swords, whatever—they’ve got to try and knock the mannequin’s head clean off,” Atlas explained, as if this were the most logical thing in the world.
“Oh,” Alicia said, her voice laced with skepticism. “That’s why you didn’t care if the mannequins were already beat up when we bought them.”
“Exactly,” Atlas confirmed with a nod. “The mannequins aren’t supposed to do much damage. But make sure if they have any arms—sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t—have this arms kind of sticking out. It increases the chances of stabbing the recruits in the face.”
Alicia stared at him, wide-eyed. “Did you just say ‘stabbing them in the face’? You mean decreasing the chances right?”
“No, I want them increased.”
“But Atlas, that’s dangerous.”
“Yeah, that’s what armor is for, right? If they can’t handle getting stabbed in the face, what’s the point?” Atlas replied nonchalantly, as if this was just another day at the office.
Atlas tried to resist the temptation of an evil cackle.
Ray, standing beside Alicia, tried his best to hide the incredulous look on his face. He had seen Atlas come up with some wild ideas, but this was on another level. Still, he wasn’t about to argue. After all, he knew Atlas could easily kick his ass. Alicia might be able to get away with it by playing the “girl card.” But he sure knew that he wouldn’t escape if he argued.
Actually, he had a sneaking suspicion that Alicia could kick his ass too despite the “girl card.” So keeping quiet was the right choice here.
With everything set up, Atlas, Alicia, and Ray led the three new recruits into the mannequin room. The first to step forward was John, he was already drenched in sweat from the warm-up workout. He was quickly followed by Evalynh—with an H, as she insisted on being called. The name might have been a bit pretentious, but it did have a certain flair to it. Lastly, there was Archie—a name that Atlas couldn’t help but associate with the old comic books. He couldn’t help but wonder how a guy named Archie had ended up here, but he was about to find out.
“Alright, let’s do this,” Atlas said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.
The first mannequin was loaded into the contraption, held back by the industrial-strength rubber band-slash-bungee-cord thing that Atlas had rigged up. He gave the signal, and the mannequin was flung toward the recruits with a satisfying *WHHOOOSH*.
Archie, holding his two shields like a gladiator from a bygone era, braced himself for impact. The mannequin slammed into him with a loud *THUD*, knocking him back several feet. As the mannequin bounced off him, just as it was designed to do, neither John nor Evalynh—with an H—had a chance to react. The mannequin seemed to mock them as it rebounded back to the wall, its plastic face fixed in a permanent, lifeless grin.
Atlas watched the pitiful performance with a mix of amusement and disappointment. “Okay, guys are you ready to try again?”
This time, Atlas gave some advice. “Archie, instead of trying to block it head-on with your dual shields, try to deflect it. It’s fast, but it’s not faster than a human being leaping at you. Evalynh—” he mentally added the H—“you’ve got a chain flail there, right?”
“That’s right,” Evalynh replied, swinging the flail around in a wide arc, narrowly missing John.
“Hey, be careful there,” Atlas warned, though he couldn’t help but laugh.
John, meanwhile, who had opted for a more vanilla sword and shield combo, looking every bit the part of a medieval soldier, dodged Evalynh’s chain flail.
“You guys ready? On the count of three,” Atlas called out, his voice full of excitement. “One… Two…”
He released the trigger before the word “three” left his lips. The mannequin shot out of the contraption like a bullet from a gun.
“Fucker!” John thought as the mannequin hurtled toward them.
Archie, still not quite getting the hang of it, tried to block it with his shields. But the mannequin, bouncing unpredictably, smacked him in the back of the head. Face down on the padded floor, Archie watched as the mannequin rebounded all the way to the end of the room, as if it were mocking him with its resilience.
Atlas, Alicia, and Ray were doing their best to stay professional, but the barely concealed laughter on their faces was hard to miss.
“Alright guys, one more try. After that, it’s the next group’s turn,” Atlas said, a mixture of encouragement and amusement in his tone.
The mannequin flew out again. This time, Archie managed to deflect it, sending it spinning toward John at a slower speed. John seized the opportunity, swinging his sword with all his might. The blade connected with the mannequin’s head with a resounding *CRACK*.
But the mannequin’s skull, though damaged, didn’t shatter. It rebounded back to the wall, where it slumped, dented but still intact.
“Damaged but not broken,” Atlas said. “Isn’t that a song by Alanis Morissette?” He laughed at his own bad joke.
“All right, next group up,” Atlas called out to Alicia, as he watched the three recruits leaving the room, a mixture of relief and embarrassment on their faces.
The mannequin might have been just a hunk of plastic, but for Atlas, it had proved its point. This training session was going to be one for the books. He was so glad he had recorded it.
*I wonder if I could get some serious views on YouTube if I released it?*