After losing both his hands in a Post Office robbery gone wrong when his cohorts dobbed him in with the Filth, Jack O'Gumper swore revenge on those rats. After he'd done his time and got out of clink, using the last of his cash, he went to see an underground surgeon specialising in cosmetic horticultural surgery and had two Denmoza Rhodocantha cacti grafted to his stumps. Jack O'Gumper was dead. He was now Cactus Jack.
Jack turned vigilante, hunting down the gits who'd grassed him up. He'd hide out in garden centres and tropical gardens, standing stock still in the cacti gardens holding his stumps in front of his face so he wouldn't be spotted. It was the perfect disguise.
The first one of the gang to fall was Gammy John, innocently looking for a couple of cintia to whack in his rockery, when KAWHACK! Down came something hard and organic upon his neck. Its bite was warm, but all Gammy John saw when he looked up was a cactus. As he tried to get up, the cactus came smashing down upon his face until he didn't get up again.
Next came First Class Molly, the insider who was to supposed disable the post office security systems prior to the job. Seemed she'd been squealing like a pig to the pigs themselves. She was out on a day trip to Kew when she was cut down. Found face down in the Temperate House. Hundreds of tiny stab wounds to the back. No weapon was found.
Last of 'em was Billy Bog Roll. He weren't in the strict sense a grass, but he'd escaped arrest when he'd been caught short after having one too many Frappuccinos that day. If he hadn't been in the bogs in the Dog and Duck down the road he might have been arrested, but such is life. Still, by this point Cactus Jack was crazed. He was more Cactus than man. Poor old Billy. Had the bladder of a balloon without a knot. After two cups of tea and a muffin in his kitchen one morning he headed straight for the throne. He sat down, getting ready to do his dirty business, when... well, you get the point. Billy certainly did.
Jack turned vigilante, hunting down the gits who'd grassed him up. He'd hide out in garden centres and tropical gardens, standing stock still in the cacti gardens holding his stumps in front of his face so he wouldn't be spotted. It was the perfect disguise.
The first one of the gang to fall was Gammy John, innocently looking for a couple of cintia to whack in his rockery, when KAWHACK! Down came something hard and organic upon his neck. Its bite was warm, but all Gammy John saw when he looked up was a cactus. As he tried to get up, the cactus came smashing down upon his face until he didn't get up again.
Next came First Class Molly, the insider who was to supposed disable the post office security systems prior to the job. Seemed she'd been squealing like a pig to the pigs themselves. She was out on a day trip to Kew when she was cut down. Found face down in the Temperate House. Hundreds of tiny stab wounds to the back. No weapon was found.
Last of 'em was Billy Bog Roll. He weren't in the strict sense a grass, but he'd escaped arrest when he'd been caught short after having one too many Frappuccinos that day. If he hadn't been in the bogs in the Dog and Duck down the road he might have been arrested, but such is life. Still, by this point Cactus Jack was crazed. He was more Cactus than man. Poor old Billy. Had the bladder of a balloon without a knot. After two cups of tea and a muffin in his kitchen one morning he headed straight for the throne. He sat down, getting ready to do his dirty business, when... well, you get the point. Billy certainly did.