Link to article: Herman Fuller Presents: The Indestructible Man.
component:hf-poster
component:hf-book-right
[[include component:hf-poster title= The Indestructible Man|textLeft= Not Fire Nor Poison Nor Sword Nor Lash Can Keep This Man [[size 85%]]In His Grave![[/size]] |image= http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/local--files/collab:herman-fuller-collaboration-page/2678307538_190bd257cd_m.jpg|textRight=Watch As He Cheats The Grim Reaper Before Your Very Eyes!| textBottom= Like the Wandering Jew and other vile wretches before him, The Indestructible Man has been barred from the Gates of Heaven for his unspeakable blasphemy, forced to forever walk this Fallen Earth. Watch in amazement as he endures torment after torment in a vain effort to finally shuffle off his mortal coil! |textFooter=ONE DAY ONLY 7 PM this Friday in Gorky Park. One show, One chance! Come one, come all!]] [[include component:hf-book-right chapter= The Indestructible Man|content=Zoltan wasn't even the first alchemist Fuller consulted about becoming immortal. First one was actually way back in nineteen fifteen or sixteen. See, Fuller decided to take the Circus on a pan-European tour during the first World War. I don't fully recall what his logic was. Anyway, while we were in France, Fuller managed to find an alchemist who could make a proper Philosopher's Stone and was effectively immortal. Guy's name was... not Peter, but some European variation of Peter. I'll call him Peter. At first, Fuller's all sweet to the guy, offering money he doesn't have and favours he can't do if he makes him immortal. Peter was obstinate though. The last thing he wanted to do was create an immortal tyrant, and would only grant immortality to those he deemed worthy. And Fuller, he wasn't worthy. As you can imagine, Fuller didn't take that too well. He had Manny gag and bind the poor sod and we brought him along on tour with us. Every night for a week we heard Peter screaming from the Ringmaster's tent, the kind of screams that make your imagination run wild with fear. I'm ashamed to say none of us tried to help the guy, but that was the understanding back in those days. You didn't expect anyone to risk their necks to save you from Fuller's ire, and they wouldn't expect it of you. As horrible as those screams were, we were all relieved Fuller had someone to whom he could so wholly devote his wrath, leaving all of us in the clear. But Peter, he never broke, and eventually Fuller got tired of putting in so much work without getting anything out of it. So he decided to make him into an act. Stuck him right in the center of the ring and threw everything he could think of at him. Peter was impaled with fifty swords, burned alive, crushed by elephants, you name it. And this was on a nightly basis. Talk about the worst kind of living forever. All Peter had to do was give Fuller his secret to eternal life, but no matter what he just would not relent. He was one tough son of a gun, I tell you. But his escape though, that was something. We were set up in Minsk when who should visit our little travelling circus but none other than Rasputin himself. Yeah, the Russian mystic. He apparently was just as interested in Peter's gift of eternal life as Fuller was. He snuck into his tent at night and used some of his voodoo to break his manacles. The two of them tried to creep out all quiet like, but Manny either saw or heard or sensed them and sounded the alarm. He charged straight for Rasputin but they both froze the second they made eye contact. Rasputin was trying to do some sort of hypnotism on him and Manny, even though I could tell he was fighting back with everything he had, succame to the spell and collapsed to the ground. There were plenty of onlookers at that point, and Rasputin started ranting about his God-given powers and about what he'd do to us if we dared to lay a hand on his sacred shoulders. Fuller's the only one who felt inclined to put these claims to the test. He sauntered up to Rasputin and then started listing off his own impressive pedigree of anomalous skills, adding that Rasputin 'wouldn't want to get into a dick measuring contest' with him. Rasputin just laughed, and then took his dick out. It was a foot long. At least. //Flaccid//. Then he started stroking it, trying to get it erect, shouting emasculating profanities at Fuller all the while. Fuller was honestly flabbergasted by this, and just stared with this weird look on his face. Like, out of all the weird things the man's seen in his life, //this// he can't believe. At this point, Peter's long gone and Rasputin ran after him, tripped, pulled his pants back up, and resumed running. We spent most of the night searching the city, but we never saw either of them again. Or at least, not in one piece. If you ever find yourself in Petersburg, do yourself a favour and swing by the Museum of Erotica. It'll be the next best thing to seeing that nightstick of a member alive and wriggling. | pagenumber =305]]