Cobra: Invader/Zion {The City}

Adaptation-hybrid of Earth-realm (cinema) adventure-graphic tales of invader/hero-cop for city life and languages of (simple) chemistry.

An alien/invader crime-graphic hybrid fanfiction of Cobra (Sylvester Stallone) and I Come in Peace (Dolph Lundgren), which I think you'll like (Happy Weekend, all) 

DISCLAIMER: This work of adaptation offers no ties to the referenced works of inspiration and all images/references used herein comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' views/translations/critiques).

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POLICE CHIEF: Look, the last thing this prototype dark-city needs is UFO-insanity!

MAYOR: Look, your force has duty to follow on this work for crime/murders now.

POLICE CHIEF: Mister Mayor, our force-folks are ill-equipped to deal with hunters.

MAYOR: The reports the UFO was flown by a 'Martian-invader' with laser-eyes?

POLICE CHIEF: According to the street, the alien shoots to decapitate citizens!

MAYOR: What the Hell will we tell the tourism-board now, Police Chief (eh)?

POLICE CHIEF: There's one option, for Revelation...employ the Cobra, mayor.

MAYOR: 'Cobra' is the code-name for one of your sideshow soldiers for DH-stuff?

POLICE CHIEF: The Cobra may do what this city needs but our regulars can't do!

MAYOR: Good (Facebook-like).

COBRA: Why me, Chief?
POLICE CHIEF: We need you and you, Cobra (ok?).

COBRA: A Martian lands and uses laser-eyes for beheading hapless urbanites.

POLICE CHIEF: That's the journal(s)-language, Cobra; we need blade-magic now!

COBRA: I suppose I'd assemble a liquid-nitrogen gun in my garage, Chief (ha).

POLICE CHIEF: Do what it takes, Cobra; this menace is worse than anything else.

COBRA: Good (Facebook-like).

STANA: Thanx for this aid for a good-girl of the city-sport, Mr. Cobra (ok).

COBRA: You're beautiful, and the Chief marks you as my Rapunzel now, Stana.

STANA: They say this Martian marked me as some magazine-culture athlete-doll.

COBRA: This alien's no friend of research; and I guess you're needing my hand(s).

STANA: Cool...maybe you'll use that ice-gun of yours with smarts without hype!

COBRA: You said it, darling...I intend not to turn you into an army-gun ad-doll.

SATANA: Ha (Facebook-like).

Cobra was sent to tackle a lethal evil in the Earth realm city of darkness, of incomplete-distances readings of the leviathan/uncertainty of securities for pedestrian-hospitality confounding any incomplete-arts of tourism. This evil came in the form of a real devil, perhaps from Mars; and the alien crawled out of his crashed UFO in the hills outside Cobra's city and began to decapitate human folks with laser-eyes (powers!), which is why/how we find our hero-fellow 'Cobra' utilizing a garage-made 'ice-gun' to freeze the invader into a state of positive examination (for doubt).

According to loose-journals, the invader, whom the writers/storytellers nicknamed Zion (nihilist-sarcasm reference to the anti-Paradise imagery cast by the shadow-blood of the tracks of this lethal evil 'specter' everyone guessed was from Mars), had lasers shooting from the eyes, used to fire at the neck of victims for beheading. Cobra made 'wage' that this line of bloody-murder had only one devilish message --- the city had no head or feet (Selfie-like).

According to his fans, Cobra shot Zion right in the chest with his 'ice-gun' and disoriented it/him/her long-enough to place a chain-tie all around the invader's body to haul the 'specter' from Hell/Mars to a center for normal examination; and afterwards, Cobra took Stana (his dark-city damsel) to an ice-gun media 'showcase' where he cheered with adjectives that weapons-for-guardians signaled our Blue-Planet arts of incomplete-chance (for the Ego!).

STANA: Luchi for Hercules, Mr. Cobra.

COBRA: You have fallen (for me!).

STANA: You'll love this (Indian) bread-treat, Cobra.

COBRA: You're really Rapunzel.

STANA: Thanx...I think (Facebook-like).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)