The Night El Físico Nuclear Massaged the Spirit of the Holidays

The following story originally appeared in the December 1995 issue of The Físico Nuclear Experience Newsletter.

Little Phlipp's rubber boots sunk several feet deep into the frosty white slush with every step he took. Tiny sheets of snow danced in the dark night air before kissing his head and jacket like they were those relentless flakes of dandruff prevalent during the "White-B-Gone Dandruff Shampoo" Embargo of 1988. Though his normally pale nose had turned to a painfully chapped glare of bright red, Phlipp marched on and kept shaking his donation cup; yet the shaking of the cup produced but a one man band in the form of a nickel that rebounded on the sides of the metal cylinder. Donations to the noble cause were lower than ever.

The freezing cold came as a complete surprise to Phlipp. Snow storms rarely came this early in December, and they had never ever hit the Southern California city of Van Nuys before. Luckily, he just happened to dress for such an occasion.

Despite proof of little Phlipp's stoic hike through the streets, the Van-Nesians were hitting an all time high of stinginess. Boutique owners scowled and locked their doors as he huffed and puffed toward their shops; coffee house owners slammed their blinds rather than offer him sips of hot cider in his time of need; Phlipp had no idea why his jovial neighbors were so hostile during the giving season, but he proceeded onward and continued his cry for charity.

"Alms for the needy!" he cried. "Give to the cause of the Físico Nuclear Society and make Christmas merry for all!" He tossed two of his own pennies into the cup, then shook it back and forth like a frying pan to turn the melody of the acoustic nickel into a hep trio. "Please!" he cried, "Please! Your extra coins will help us make Quantum Physics the official religious science of the Holiday Season!"

No sooner did the above words leave his lips and form frost in the cold air than did he feel a sharp object strike the crown of his head. Phlipp collapsed into the glowing white snow, his head and heart engulfed with pain. Barely maintaining consciousness, he saw the blinking neon signs of a delicatessen, a tobacco shop, and a liquor store stirring in Kaleidoscope circles before his eyes. When these dizzy visions flew away, he saw the harsh reality of a blood soaked stone laying in the snow next to him.

"Dirty little faggot pinko!" sputtered a creepy, lethargic voice. "If you love Físico Nuclear and Physics so much, then crawl on your hands and knees to some low-life rat-infested arena and set up a lab there!"

Phlipp's angelic eyes fluttered open and shut until he steadied his glance and saw the frowning bullfrog face of the liquor store owner; the only hair on the wicked man's head oozed out slightly above his squinting eyes, the only object in his hands a Louisville Slugger, the only warmth in his soul a cast iron incinerator that scalds away all true love. "Disgusting trash-filled gutter boy," he muttered, "that stone was too good for you. I should've thrown my whittlin' stick at yer!"

"Shut up!" cried the angry voice of a child familiar to Phlipp. "Pinche pendejo, callate!"

"P-P-Pedro!" stammered Phlipp. "Oh Pedro, run! He's a very bad man!"

But Pedro was not thwarted, running to his fallen pal. "You evil man! My friend tries to do good things for Southern California," and kicking a pile of snow at the criminal being, "and you repay him with a stone to his head!"

Tears welled up in Pedro's eyes as he helped Phlipp to his feet. "My friend here walks through sleet and snow so that he can bless you secular pigs with the beautiful wonders of Radio-Isotopic Healing, Nucleo-Astral Flight™ , and... and..... ¡LUCHA LIBRE!"

The stinky man's eyes suddenly widened as far as possible, and both wads of his lips wavered up and down like a parachute dance before his mouth burst into a large vile circular shape which bellowed "LUCHA LIBRE!!!" His fingers trembled and he gritted his stained teeth."I know what lucha libre is, it's Mexican wrestling!" He hacked a wicked cough, and grumbled, "You .....filthy.....disgusting......NAFTA loving..." spittle bubbled from his mouth and shot in all directions, "No lousy Mexican wrestling will EVER... EVER thrive in California as long as I have a say in it!"

Upon hearing that degrading outburst, Phlipp's frail physique momentarily forgot its limitations, and charged toward the lofty ogre. Luckily, Pedro grabbed his friend by the sleeve of his coat. "Forget about it, Phlipp. This guy is not worth the trouble."

Heaving forth a cross between a laugh and a grunt, the slothlike coward lumbered back into his liquor store. "Aw Phlipp," sighed Pedro, "Did you see the arms on that guy? He could've killed you!"

Phlipp's lip vibrated for a few seconds, and bursting into tears he bellowed "It doesn't matter anymore! People don't appreciate the photoelectric effect! Nobody realizes the benefits of adhering to a Kapha-pacifying diet, nor do they awe at the brilliance of the Rey Misterio Jr vs Psicosis feud!" He sobbed louder. "It's hopeless, nobody cares!"

"Oh, Phlipp, you are wrong," said Pedro, patting his friend on the shoulders. "People care, they just don't understand yet. Remember how I used to think that Físico Nuclear was `just a masked wrestler?' It wasn't until my Aunt Lorena sat me down on several occasions and told me about the splendor of watching legends like El Santo and Medico Asesino wrestle in Arena México when she was a little girl. She told me that they were much more than `masked men,' and further emphasized that I should look at Físico Nuclear in the same light. I am thankful my aunt taught me this wonderful lesson, but I do realize that it took time to thrust it through my stubborn head.

"Similarly Phlipp, it will take time to make other people understand just where children like you and I come from."

But Phlipp failed to understand. "Maybe I am just a fool," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut to shut off the flow of tears. "Maybe El Físico Nuclear is a figment of my imagination." Squeezing his eyes even tighter, he sobbed, "Maybe it is time I wake up and smell the coffee!"

At that precise moment, Phlipp felt a rush of warm steam gently stroke his chin and mouth; it then floated into his nasal passage. He smelled the waking brew of freshly ground chocolate hazelnut coffee; the scent halted his tears; he opened his eyes, and saw the becoming young man wearing the forest green kitchen apron and the friendly eyes kneeling in front of him. He held a fresh pot of coffee in his right hand.

"Oh my Jack Lord---Coffee Boy?" inquired Phlipp. The young man smiled, winked, and saluted with his peace sign fingers.

"See Phlipp?" said Pedro. "Many think Coffee Boy is just another `coffee server,' but here he is, standing before you in the freezing cold and wearing a short sleeve t-shirt. And no goose-bumps on his arms! It's a miracle!"

"That's right Pedro!" said an elated Coffee Boy. "Phlipp, just because El Físico Nuclear is not visible at every waking hour does not mean that he has forgotten you."

"But Coffee Boy," cried Phlipp, "there have been times I've needed his help, have cried out his name, but where was he?"

With his free hand, Coffee Boy gave Phlipp a playful right hook to the chin. "He was there, little buddy, he was there. Maybe you cannot see El Físico Nuclear in front of you, but he can see you," and placing the palm of his hand on Phlipp's heart, "right there, Phlipp. Right there."

"You mean, even though we don't hang out and party with good Físico, we can still learn his valuable lessons of Truth, Science and Fair Play?"

"That's right, Phlipp!" And Coffee Boy pulled out two ceramic I ? Physics mugs. "Here, kids, these mugs are for you! How about a happy spot of java?"

"Well," shrugged Pedro, "we would love to, but we our moms usually prefer we drink Ginseng Tea."

"Yes, the Ginseng root is good, kids. But black coffee is a good Serotonin booster too! And it is so cold tonight! Whadd'ya kids say? Recharge the 'ol magnetic reactors?"

The kids cheered and held out the mugs that Coffee Boy gave them. Coffee Boy poured Pedro's cup of piping hot coffee first, and then filled Phlipp's, when out of the blue flashed a huge fluorescent blast. When the flash shrunk and the winter night returned, Coffee Boy was gone.

"Wow! Was that something, Phlipp?"

"Yeah! Where did he...?"

"I don't know, but isn't he cool?"

But their awe was interrupted by the grotesque voice of the liquor store owner. "I warned you kids! Get outa here or I'll..."

Another fluorescent blast, way huger and brighter and rip-roaringer than the first, lit up the night. Like the end of the previous light show, winter night returned, but this winter night blossomed with a blueberry colored night sky and sprinkled snowflakes scented with peppermint.

And when the last trickle of fluorescent energy disappeared behind the sky's curtain, one proud being stood between the two children and the oafish liquor store owner; one proud being that Phlipp and Pedro knew as El Físico Nuclear!

His bubble gum pink mask and Otter Pop blue tights looked so radiant that even the creepy face of the liquor store owner showed slight signs of amazement. Meanwhile, the children cheered and clapped their hands!

El Físico Nuclear winked at Phlipp and said, "Like my pal Coffee Boy told you! I'm always in your hearts!" He then turned to the wicked man and said with utmost seriousness, "You, sir, are way out of line. Go back to peddling your firewater and leave these children alone!"

"BAH!" sneered the liquor store owner, lifting his bat above his head. "One stroke of my bat will turn your pink mask red!"

"Físico!" screamed Phlipp. "Don't just stand there with your hands on your hips! That bat will split your head open!"

But Físico stood in place like a doll posed in the action figure aisle at Toys ? Us. "Fear not, boys," said El Físico. "There are very few truly evil people in this world. If this man has a shred of kindness in his heart, it will show itself before that wood strikes my head!"

And just as the liquor store owner began to swing forth, he stopped at the sight of a well dressed handsome young man strolling by the store. The liquor store owner noticed that the young man held a huge sack over his shoulder; inside of it was something alive, something writhing about, something wanting of freedom.

"Hey! You!" growled the bat wielding man. "You playing Santy-Claus in my neighborhood, handing out presents to the spoiled little bastards of America, buzz off, you degenerate!"

The young man felt he recognized a friend in the cold face of the liquor owner, so he smirked and said, "Relax, old man. I ain't throwing gifts to the kids! This here is a sack full of puppies and kittens," he said with a wide grin, "and they are on their way to their first and ONLY swim in Lake Tolos! BAH-HA-HA-HAAA!"

The old man spit on the ground, shook his head, and said "You're wasting your time, kid! Drown all the animals you want! That won't prevent animal overpopulation; only spaying and neutering animals will slow the growth rate." And raising his bat high again, he bellowed, "stick around and watch me drown this masked goofball in his own blood!"

But the young man spoke and once again kept the baseball bat from laying into El Físico Nuclear. "Naw, you got me all wrong, old man! I could care less about overpopulation!" And the liquor store owner looked puzzled as the young man continued, "I drown these stupid creatures because I like watching their young bodies flailing helplessly in the cold water, barking and wailing for somebody to help them! And I happen to know that there is, at this very moment, a group of snot-nosed little Christmas Carolers strolling along the lake side, and I intend to destroy happiness for them and their parents by murdering these pathetic baby animals!" "

"Why," muttered the old man, "you're, you're....kidding?"

"Kidding!" hollered the young man with a scowl on his face. And he broke out in laughter.

The liquor store owner tried to keep up his tough facade, but his trembling hands failed him, the nervous tremors spreading to his wrists, up his arms, through the veins of his neck, and it all exploded with his volcanic cry of "MURDERER!" His cumbersome body hauled down the sidewalk and plowed into the man with a tackle that would have brought a grin to the face of Joe Namath.

The young man dropped the bag as he flew face first to the ground. Pedro and Phlipp rushed to the bag, untied the opening, and out leapt nearly two dozen tiny pups and kittens, yelping and mewing the joys of freedom. The proprietors of the surrounding shops looked out their windows and stepped outside to see what the commotion was, and Pedro smiled with glee when he saw his beautiful Aunt Lorena. "Mi sobrino!" she cried, her licorice black hair dancing on her shoulders as she ran toward him. "I heard your pain from my salon, so I rushed over!" She grabbed Pedro and hugged him tight against her astonishingly voluptuous chest, and Pedro smiled much wider than the last.

The liquor store owner and the young man rolled and pummeled each other in a dirty patch of snow. But the elderly man, tired with anger and age, had less stamina, and wound up on bottom.

The evil young man reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a huge blade, and muttered, "you stupid lump of waste, thinking you can ruin my fun! Prepare to die ..."

And El Físico Nuclear flew into the young man with a flying dropkick. The young man recovered, charged El Físico Nuclear, but felt himself lifted by the arms of the masked hero, twirling him in the air, and slamming him back first onto El Físico's knee. "La Quebradora!" exclaimed Phlipp. "Físico, I saw Atlantis do that move to Emilio Charles Jr once. That's my favorite lucha libre move!" The young man lay dizzy on the sidewalk, and El Físico smiled at his young fan and gave him a hearty thumbs-up. "If you like La Quebradora that much, Phlipp, then I will use it in the ring again and again and again!"

El Físico Nuclear, Aunt Lorena, Phlipp, and Pedro all rushed over to the exhausted liquor store owner and helped him sit up. As they did so, they saw tears flowing down his huge face. "Sir," said Pedro. "You are sad?"

And the liquor store owner looked up at his helpers and said, "I-I-I loved Mix-m-Up so much, but... but...." and he burst into tears again.

"My friend," said Aunt Lorena, "who was Mix-M-Up?"

"When I was a child, Mix-M-Up was my dear pet echidna. What a sweet little creature! We used to swim in Lake Tolos together, and Mix-M-Up could do the most mind boggling tricks." His lower lip quivered. "My father said that no normal American male would have such an intense bond with a hermaphrodite house pet, and one day... one day I came out to Mixxy's pen, and my little cuddly friend was gone! The pen was shut, so I knew Mix-M-Up didn't run away! I couldn't figure what happened until..."

And he broke down once again. "My father walked up behind me and said `Maybe now that your freak-of-nature is gone, you'll start actin' like some kinda man instead of one of those trashy he/she perverts that loiter on the corner of Hollywood and Ivar!'"

The liquor store owner could say no more and collapsed into an admirable crying fit that would have made Sylvia Sidney proud. El Físico Nuclear put a friendly hand on the man's shoulder to comfort him. "Sir, when I first looked at you, my instincts told me that despite the excess positive ions floating out of your pores that deep inside you lived a good soul who was in dire pain. Many of us have suffered losses that are difficult to endure, especially when those around us are insensitive to our needs."

"Yeah," said Phlipp, "like the time Tommy Smith trashed my El Físico Nuclear Signal Badge."

Pedro stepped forward. "Or the day Patrol Officer Jones retired. He was my favorite crossing guard! It makes me so sad!" And he began to weep. "Aunt Lorena!" he cried, and she scooped him in her arms and kissed him. "There, there! It's OK, sobrino!" Pedro’s tears vanished, and his smile returned twofold.

The liquor store owner took in a deep breath, let it out smoother than a Maharishi, and muttered, "I wasn't about to let that piece of garbage destroy those sweet animals the same way my rotten old man did with my echidna! But still, I don't see how you folks can be so kind to me after I've treated you so horribly. Maybe I am hurting, but I'm still just a BAD MAN!"

At that very moment, one of the newly freed black & white kittens curled up on the man's lap and purred. Just as he began to pet the kitty, two Newfoundland pups ran up and licked the man's face like it was a double-scoop of Quadruple-Fudge-Brownie-Galore ice cream!

"You stand corrected!" beamed El Físico. "Such creatures of innocence would never cuddle up to somebody who stood for bad!"

Phlipp, Pedro, Aunt Lorena, and dozens of shop owners ran through the street filled with glee! The snow-filled street became a playground of happiness and a makeshift pet adoption clinic! People threw snowballs, sipped hot tea, and ate popsicles! El Físico taught people how to do back flips, Pedro hugged and kissed his Aunt Lorena and wouldn’t let go, and Phlipp was about to try his first cartwheel when he stopped suddenly and said, "Mr. Liquor Store Owner! Nobody's tending to your shop! It's probably being looted as we speak!"

And the liquor store owner smiled, hugged Phlipp and Pedro, and said "Ahhh, let them loot it! As of tomorrow, I'm closing up the store that filled my greedy desires for so many years." The man's face had a look of honest determination on it. "Yes, kids, it's time to take down the sign that reads `Light Ye Innards’ Fire Liquor' and replace it with a sign that reads `El Físico Nuclear's Humane Society and Home for Unwanted Children!'"

Pedro screamed "That's great, Mr..." Pedro scratched his head, "ah, what's your name, sir?"

The man smiled and said "Landfill, son! Mr. Landfill!" And he held his head high and proclaimed "Mr. Landfill has come home! Tell everybody that `Mr. Liquor Store Owner' doesn't live here anymore!'"

And the crowd broke out in cheers that could be heard through El Monte, Diamond Bar and Chino Hills! People danced with the precision of a Busby Berkeley score, and church bells that previously did not exist rang throughout the land! There were mimes, jugglers, and fireworks! The merry party was peaking when somebody cried "LOOK OUT!"

El Físico Nuclear looked over his shoulder to see the crowd had begun to scatter. He saw that behind the people running back and forth stood the evil man who intended to destroy the sweet young animals. The vile man held a gun in his right hand, and when at last there were no festive beings between him and El Físico Nuclear, he raised his arm, aimed the gun at our hero's heart of gold, and cackled, "So much for your 'happy ending!'"

The street was so quiet that everybody could hear the evil man cock his gun. One of the mimes tried to scream, but his effort was in vain. "Say Kwalakka for the last time, Mister Nuclear!!"

Just as the grotesque villain began to squeeze his trigger finger, a bright plum colored shined up in the sky. The bad man looked up to see a bright beam of light the color of pumpkin pie soar downward from the sky, fly inward through the frosty air, and slice through his gun wielding hand. The man let out a banshee scream and waved his glowing hand in the air so fast that all anybody could see were blinding flashes of silver circling around it.

The evil man tried to steady his spastic body, only to shriek in terror when he saw that the silver object was a shiny new scalpel planted firmly in his bloody hand. He ran away into the cold night, screaming and howling for help.

"It's a miracle!" cried a jovial voice. "But who?" asked another person in the crowd. "Who saved El Físico Nuclear?"

"Yeah, who?" shrugged our hero.

"Look! Up in the starry sky!" shouted Aunt Lorena. "She looks like a doctor!"

Standing proudly in the sky above them was a beautiful woman dressed in baby blue surgeon gear. Her radiance turned the color of the night sky surrounding her to a fantastic red. She wore protective gloves. She had friendly eyes that looked oh so familiar to everybody in the street, a sleek physique that each person could swear they've seen someplace before, and........ A MASK!

El Físico Nuclear's jaw dropped. "I could swear I'm looking at...at...at..."

"Yes, Físico," said Lawrence Doyle, who had just driven in from Santa Fe Springs for no particular reason, "she looks just like you."

People in the crowd eagerly talked back and forth about the possibilities of another illustrious being with the capabilities similar to those of El Físico Nuclear. "She's amazing!" said one woman. "And extremely helpful!" said a busy grocer. They waved to her with thanks, and the children in the crowd broke out their crayons to draw a mural of her on the front wall of the local Evangelical church.

"She’s gorgeous!" muttered Phlipp.

"Almost as gorgeous as my Aunt Lorena," quipped a dreamy eyed Pedro.

The woman in the sky smiled, waved back, and snapped her fingers to produce a small Italian sports car with large wings on the sides. She hopped in and sped off somewhere into a television induced astral plane.

"Wait!" shouted El Físico. "Who are you? I need to know! Are you... are you..."

"Yes, Físico," said Dan Farren, who had just finished performing at L.A. Connection, "she is your sister."

"I have a sister?" exclaimed a stunned Físico. "How do you know she is my sister?"

Dan put his forefinger to his chin, rolled his eyes upwards, and said, "I dunno. Cuz she looks like you, I guess."

The party restarted, and more miracles abounded as the mimes sung, the jugglers break-danced, and the poets watched reruns of Three's Company on their portable t.v. sets. Pedro kissed Aunt Lorena's cherry red lips, and his eyes rolled upward while he fell backwards like he was smacked on the forehead by a faith healer. The evening grew louder and happier.

The sound of a jet pack firing up was heard, and Mr. Landfill shifted his hefty body and said "Físico! Our hero! You're leaving the party so soon?"

"Yes!" said El Físico Nuclear. "I must find out more about my sister! And this is the month of December; I must train for my next encounter with Vandál Drummónd at the All-Nation Center; and there is somebody else who needs my help this holiday season!"

"But who could that be?" quizzed Pedro.

As Físico began hovering in the air, he shook out a charley horse in his left leg. When he did so, the sound of jingle bells jangled from within his boots. He grinned, put a hand over his mouth, and muttered "Oops!"

"Well," grinned Lawrence, "you dress warm, champ!

"Yeah!" smiled Dan, "and give our regards to the big guy!"

El Físico let out a silly laugh and waved to the crowd. "I'll tell him to stuff something special in every single stocking this Christmas!" The crowd waved back and watched their wonderful wrestling hero fly away.

Mr. Landfill knelt next to Phlipp and Pedro and said, "Boys, El Físico Nuclear taught me an important lesson tonight! We should try to repay his kindness by doing something wonderful for our fair city."

Phlipp and Pedro looked wide-eyed at each other, turned to Mr. Landfill and exclaimed in unison "You mean it?"

"Yes, boys, as soon as I get the adoption center going, the three of us will work on bringing traditional lucha libre to every arena in the entire Southern California region!"

The boys jumped up and down, clapping their hands and nodding their heads. Pedro ran to Aunt Lorena and said Aunt Lorena! Lucha libre will thrive in Southern California!" And he leapt into her arms!

Phlipp joined his other little friends at the impromptu festival, and Mr. Landfill looked into the north sky to catch another glimpse of El Físico Nuclear.

"El Físico Nuclear is really something!" he said to Aunt Lorena.

"He most certainly is," she answered.

"You know," continued Mr. Landfill, "I'm no queer, but I wouldn't toss El Físico Nuclear out of my sleeping bag!"

"I am queer," returned Aunt Lorena with a smile, "and I would jump his bones in a New York minute!"

The two laughed with glee and walked arm-in-arm into the crowd of party people. The snow began storming with greater ferocity onto the southland, but the love that surfaced in Van Nuys that evening kept everybody warm.

And that last paragraph made intellectuals like Jean Luc Godard vomit all over their own laps. Hey, melodrama is a wicked weapon, you arrogant geniuses.