The Story of FoilMan: Part Four – The Tesla Cannon

Tesla Cannon - FoilMan

The Tesla Cannon

“Wait a minute, Agent Torque!” Director Saul said. “You can’t just fire a Tesla Cannon into space at anything you choose.”

Agent Torque put his cell phone into his jacket breast pocket. “You’re right, Director. I’ll need the proper trajectory algorithms to get a direct hit on the UFO.” He grabbed Private Nickels. “That’s why I’m taking your assistant with me to Langley.”

“Hold it right there,” Director Saul said. “Private Nickels is an important member of my team. Where he goes…I go.”

Private Nickels held his stomach. “Aww man! We’re taking a road trip? I haven’t even had lunch yet.”

Director Saul pushed Private Nickels toward the lounge. “Grab the Almond Butter and some Superfruit Jelly. We’ll make sandwiches while we’re flying.”

Agent Torque folded his arms. “Who’s going to bring the laptop?”

“It’s called, Portable Command Console,” Director Saul said, “and I’ll go get it and meet you two at the airfield.”

Saul rushed into his office and found the Portable Command Console on his desk. But he didn’t stop there. He rustled and rummaged through desk drawers until he found a USB extension cord inside a black and white checkered box.

A note inside the box read, “OBJECTIVE 17.”

“Never thought I’d ever use this,” Saul said as he connected the USB extension cable to his mouse. He stuffed them along with the Command Console into a Hemp/Tencel fabric briefcase.


Meanwhile, within his tiny escape craft, FoilMan drifted through space.

FoilMan had pleasant dreams in his Cryogenic Stasis Chamber. He imagined himself being greeted by the President of the United States. Of course, in his dream, he visualized that the President was Bob Dole. That was because Bob Dole was the only presidential candidate to refer to himself in the 3rd person…

“Bob Dole thinks that you, FoilMan got the right stuff!”

FoilMan shakes President Dole’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. President, FoilMan is proud to be here.”

With a concerned look on his face, President Dole says, “No, FoilMan, I meant your Goji Berries. These things are delicious with roasted almonds.”

“Oh! I couldn’t agree more. Have you ever tried Goji Berries as part of a trail mix snack bag? When I used to do repair work, I would keep a little bag on me to stay sharp.”

President Dole’s face turns purple, and his eyes begin flashing bright beams of light. “It’s good to stay sharp FoilMan. That’s because there’s a dangerous projectile approaching.”

“Projectile…” FoilMan looks around the White House lawn. Trees are melting before his very eyes. The white columns that support the proud building transform into silver and gray titanium beams.

Before FoilMan can take in anymore of his surroundings, President Dole grips FoilMan’s hand tightly. Then the pencil that was in the President’s other hand morphs into a syringe.

President Dole says in a digital computer voice, “CRYOGENIC EMERGENCY PROCEDURES IN EFFECT.”


With a deep gasp for air FoilMan was awoken. His bones were aching and his muscles twitched. “Diagnostic…Perimeter Report!”

FoilMan yanked the syringe from his chest and blood spurted on the ship’s navigational systems.

The monitor displayed an incoming projectile approaching FoilMan’s escape craft.

“97 seconds till impact. Think FoilMan, THINK!”

FoilMan activated the ship’s simulation computer. “Computer, can we change course or speed up fast enough to evade the projectile?”

“Negative, FoilMan,” the computer said, “the Ion-Drive propulsion system lacks enough burst thrust to avoid the projectile.”

“What! Lemme see those numbers.”

Trying to get a better look at the information on the screen, FoilMan wiped away some blood with his sleeve. He glanced at his stained Tencel shirt and then again at the fuel reserves control system. “That’s it!”

The ship’s computer announced, “FIFTEEN SECONDS TILL IMPACT.”

FoilMan slammed the emergency override button. “Eject all the remaining fuel out the starboard disposal ducts, password: organic1

The escape craft moved horizontally to the left due to the force of the ejected fuel. But it was too late. The projectile still hit FoilMan’s ship, tearing a gaping hole in the hull.

Knocked off-course and losing life support…FoilMan’s ship plummeted toward the Pacific Ocean.

Will FoilMan survive? Stay tuned next time for the ongoing saga of…FoilMan.

…to be continued…

[Just in case you missed PART THREE of FoilMan...CLICK HERE]

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