After Beard’s chosen home and beloved motorcycle were destroyed and he laid waste to Baby Drake’s forces responsible for this travesty, the enraged ginger started a one-man campaign to make sure that it was the biggest and last mistake the space invaders would ever make.
He traveled and stopped Baby Drake’s forces permanently whenever he bumped into them. Unfortunately, sometimes he was too late to the party, only getting to help in the recovery. With each site of violence, he came upon, Beard’s rage and determination grew.
Beard didn’t notice, but the angrier he got, the frizzier his beard became. Also, with every battle, Beard honed his fighting ability, becoming stronger and faster.
The only real weakness he had was the lack of a ranged weapon. To body the fools, he had to charge in and literally beat them until they cried for their mammas. While that was certainly fun and Beard enjoyed it very much, the exertion started taking its toll.
Trying to work around the issue, Beard started doing what he never has before, using what was in his noggin to trim the numbers of the Baby Drake’s forces before actually engaging them in battle. Surprisingly, he was actually quite capable both in tactics and strategy!
As time passed, word began spreading about the ginger avenger. Wherever he went, people started joining him. With his newfound strategic abilities, Beard was able to use them to make battles end much quicker.
For weeks, Beard and his followers wandered through the land, helping wherever they could before they were met by a soldiery looking gentleman.
“Are you the one they call the Ginger Avenger?” he asked.
Beard sighed, hating the name, but nodded nevertheless.
“The government needs to see you.”
“Let’s go,” Beard answered, dejected.
When Beard and his followers arrived at the military base where the remaining leaders of the world were hiding out, he was met by the President himself. Beard wasn’t impressed. He didn’t vote for him, after all.
“Mr. Beard! So nice to see you,” the President said. “We’ve heard a lot about your success where our own army failed to stand up the forces of these aliens.”
“Your army is puny,” Beard said. The President got embarrassed.
“Anyway…We would like you to help lead the army in their battle against these aliens.”
“Okay,” Beard said, his ginger beard twitching in glee. Then, he started jumping around like a schoolgirl. “Do I get any guns?”
“How about a bazooka, General Beard?”
“Mr. President, we will be great friends.”