Chas Chandler

"You'll still need a driver. And there's me martial arts training-- that'll come in handy."

- Chas Chandler

Chas Chandler is a middle-class cabbie working in the streets of London who is also a close friend of the magus John Constantine. He is the longest surviving member of John Constantine's cast and is one of John's oldest and most loyal friend. Chas Chandler first met John Constantine when they were young, when the magus decided to lodge in the Chandler's apartment. There, John Constantine saw the abuse that the young Chas had to endure from his insane mother and so decided to help him out. By rescuing him, Chas Chandler indebted himself to Constantine and he would later assist the magus in many of his supernatural adventures. John Constantine tends to use Chas for mostly mundane reasons, like driving him around town for free, or taking him home whenever he gets drunk. Although Constantine would try to keep Chas away from his dangerous line of work, Chas would inevitably get entangled from time to time.

Chas Chandler had helped John Constantine numerous times before, especially during their fight against the birth of the anti-christ, and the battle against the Beast. John would also help out Chas in times of trouble, such as when Chas' granddaughter was afflicted with a magical curse that was ravaging the world at that time. However, Chas' relationship with Constantine had more negative effects on his life, with Chas loosing many of those he cared about, and the two would go on to have a rocky relationship throughout the Hellblazer's career.

In a time when sidekicks were seen as young teenage kids, what made Chas Chandler unique was that he was just a normal middle-class man who gets mixed up with the extraordinary life of his friend.

Battle vs. Ken Clarkson (by Killermoves)
Paris was in a gloomy state this time of the year. It was almost midnight but no stars can be seen as heavy clouds covered the whole sky. Large cold rain fell from the heavens and flooded the Parisian streets. All the locals were huddled in their little homes and apartments, not wanting to fight the rain to go out on a stroll. It seems that the city known for its warmth and love was in a state of cold loneliness.

And yet in this deluge, a lone Englishman was running in the streets, desperately trying to find some refuge from the rain. His name was Chas Chandler, who was a taximan back home but a down on his luck tourist here. As Chas ran holding his jacket on his head and trying his best to hold on and cover it, all his mind can do right now was to curse and be pissed.

''“Chas I need your help now mate and I need you to hurry. I’m in Paris right now and Jesus wept a lot of bad shite’s happening here. I need you to hurry to my apartment, go to my bed and grab this large paperbag on top of it. And then get here in Paris as soon as you can because the thing inside is something that’s going to help me stop this shite. Don’t worry about the costs gettin’ here cause seriously the whole world needs you right now!”''

Those words were the last thing his dear old mate John Constantine told him on the phone. And like a stupid dancing monkey Chas took the bite, thinking that his wizard friend was in some tight supernatural trouble and that the paperbag may contain some macguffin that would help save the world.

But to his damn surprise, the bag contained nothing more than hashish. His friend John Constantine was not battling demons or waging wars against warlocks; he was just high and wasted in some weed joint and “asked” poor old Chas to get more of the exotic stuff to share with the junkies he just met. There was no danger or “end of the world” situation, it was typical John Constantine being the biggest asshole in existence, and Chas being the biggest dumbass to ever fell for him.

And now Chas Chandler was stuck in Paris, wet and super angry. He was hoping that the city of love might make the journey at least enjoyable and worth it, but with the heavy rains raging that made even sightseeing almost impossible tonight, this shithole wasn’t that different from the hole he just left all the way back to the channel.

However, his luck seemed to have changed as he spotted an open club in the distance. Its bright lights were enticing to Chas’ weary and wet eyes, and the first thing that came to his mind was the warmth and grub that it could provide. Without second thought he went running straight to the place, and as he got closer, the buzzing party music was getting louder which gave him comfort. He finally arrived inside the club and its warm and dry atmosphere felt heavenly to him. The men there looked a bit odd but he didn’t mind since there was a bar and a whole cabinet of liquor that he can enjoy for the night. ***

As Chas took a seat in the bar, on the other side of the place sat another guy who was also having a bad night. His name was Ken Clarkson, an industrial American employee and wannabe businessman who was in Paris for business. He and his team were supposed to attend an international trading convention and represent his company back in New York. But alas, the director of his company was nowhere to be found, and it wrecked his whole plan.

“What do you mean you’re not coming, Aric?!” Ken said on the phone as he talked to the “acting” director, who unfortunately, was not acting like one as he’s supposed to be. The man he’s talking to the phone was Aric of Dacia, a Visigoth who was abducted by aliens and was now living among them as a superhero. Ken should have known that this barbarian won’t be disciplined or “civilized” enough to keep time like any modern folks. But then again, Aric is the X-O Manowar. If this guy was able to save the world countless of times, Ken trusted that a simple business meeting won’t be that difficult for him.

“Aric, you are the CEO of Orb Industries. You need to be here!” Ken yelled. “And don’t give me that crap that you’re out there saving the world. I am not falling for that shit again! I know that you are drunk in some whorehouse right now and damn it man, you are seriously fucking this up!”

As Ken continued to talk on the phone, his voice was getting louder and angrier, to the annoyance of the patrons including Chas Chandler. “Fuck you Aric! I want you here right now! Like this fucking instant! You better get your caveman’s head out of your ass, use the X-O suit and fly here as fast as you can! I know how fast that thing can go so plea—”

And then Ken heard a beep, before a long silence filled his ears. Aric has just hanged up on him, and probably won’t be calling back. Enraged, Ken threw his phone to the wall and took a shot from his glass. The man was having the worst night of his life, and that one shot he just gulped wasn’t enough. He then stood up and started walking to the bar pissed, in the hopes of getting even more booze to help him get through the night. And he was walking straight to Chas Chandler’s direction.

***

“Give me three shots of scotch, a couple of whiskey, and one big fat bottle of cold beer, garson,” Ken said in a pissed-off mood. Chas watched as this guy in a suit gulped each of those shots down his throat like it’s the end of the world. With a heavy and dizzy head, Ken took a sip of his beer next, before turning his eyes towards the still watching Englishman besides him.

“How about you honey?” Ken asked. “You want me to buy you something to drink? I can use a company right now.”

Chas turned his sight away from the drunk gay man and returned back to drinking his mug. He then said, “I’m not in a good mood either and I hate talking, so piss off.”

“I like your accent,” Ken drunkely replied. “I really really need someone to talk to right now, man. It’s been one crazy night, and I don’t care if their old or butt ugly. Hell, I can even make it worth your while…”

Chas looked at him with a disgusted look before saying in a loud harsh voice, “The fuck is wrong with you? What are you some fuckin’ queer? Get the fuck away from me you piece of shit.” While Chas was not intending to insult Ken, nor did he have any problems with the LBGT community, his very old-fashioned insult echoed throughout the whole club. The music that was playing suddenly stopped, and the crowd halted what they were doing and gave Chas a mean glance. It didn’t just strike Ken’s nerve; it seems that the place didn’t like what Chas said either.

“You got some guts saying that, grandpa,” Ken said who seems to not be able to get a break. And now he’s going to deal with this horrible homophobe next.

“Do you even know that you’re in a gay bar you bigoted asshole!”

With that revelation, Chas turned his head towards the patrons in shock and embarrassment. The place that Chas has been was a gay bar all along, which explained all the bright lights, the odd music, and even the weirder people. And speaking of those patrons, they have been watching the two argue and they do not like Chas one bit.

“Listen, I don’t have any problems with you people,” Chas said to the crowd as he tried to calm them all down before they chase him back to the streets. “I just want to get off the rain, that’s all. I mean no disrespect to the lot of ya’. I mean, I have a friend named Constantine who’s a bisexual—”

“Ah yes the good old ‘I have a gay friend so I’m not a homophobe’ excuse,” Ken interrupted insolently. “I think it’s time for you to go now old man. Go back to the 1950s where you belong!”

Ken then grabbed Chas shoulder with his metallic arm and tried to throw him through the door. But Chas body flew and crashed into a wall instead. The rest of the people lost their nerve as they saw a fight brew up, and they all bolted out of the club before they too can get hurt. Chas stood up, trying to breath the pain on his back away, and grabbed a nearby baseball bat for defense.

The gay man stood up, drank the remaining beer off his bottle, and charged at Chas. But the Englishman managed to side-step away and hit Ken on the back of the heard with the bat. “You want a fight, mate? Then I’ll give you one!”

“Oh, it is on Mr. Buckingham Palace,” Ken said before unsheathing his knife. He tries to swipe and slash at Chas but the latter manage to back away and dodged Ken’s attack. Chas then front kicked Ken, pushing him away before he can do more damage with that knife. He then smashed his bat on Ken’s right ribs. This attack forced Ken to fall on his knees in pain as he clutched his sides. It seems that Chas’ street fighting skills were paying him off tonight.

Coughing up blood, Ken saw Chas literally seconds before the latter could smash his bat on Ken’s head. Although Ken was still crippled in pain, the automatic defenses of the Shanhara arm flared up, and it instinctively caught Chas’ bat. With great strength it easily threw Chas away, before throwing Ken’s knife with great accuracy on Chas’ shoulder. Chas yelled in pain as the blade got stuck on his shoulder, and it made him drop the baseball bat he was holding.

Ken managed to finally get himself back up, and seeing Chas weakened on the club floor, Ken took the opportunity to draw his fire light pistol. He aimed the pistol at Chas but as he pressed the button, Chas managed to roll out of the way, just in time as a fiery red laser hit his position and burst it into flames. Seeing himself outgunned, Chas dove into the bar and took his sawn-off Ace of Winchester out of his bag. He then fired several rounds at Ken, but Ken managed to either dodge those shots or block them with his metal arm.

With his opponent pinned down, Chas desperately grabbed a marker and drew sigils and circles on the floor. He knew that nothing he can do could penetrate that bastard’s prosthetic, and with zero options left, Chas turned to magic. He planned on unleashing the Knowledge with the hopes of taking down Ken Clarkson and send him to hell.

“Bums tits and arse?...” Chas said as he tried to remembered the enchantment. The pressure of the battle was making it difficult to poor old Chas Chandler to pull off the magic perfectly. And as he desperately tried to chant the magical incantation, Ken saw his chance to finally finish this fight. He aimed his laser pistol at the cover that Chas was in, and blew up the whole bar into a thousand burning pieces. Chas was thrown a few feet away with the back of his jacket in flames, and his attempt to use magic has failed. Ken ran as fast as he can towards Chas before the Englishman can pull off any other crazy weapon to retaliate. He kicked Chas in the side as he laid down on the ground, before Ken picked him up on his neck with his prosthetic.

“You should have given us more respect old man,” Ken calmly said knowing that he has already won the battle.

“No. But you and your little faggy friends can go to hell,” Chas stubbornly replied.

And without any further talking, Ken broke Chas’ neck with a loud snap using his metallic arm. He then threw Chas’ lifeless body back on the floor, with his nose dripping with blood and his eyes wide open and soulless.

Ken then promptly left the club before the French police can arrive and arrest him. He started jogging back to his hotel even as the rain still continued to poor. This night just keeps on getting worse and worse for everyone.

Expert’s Opinion
While Chas had superior training, experts believed that Ken’s metallic arm proved to be more useful than the powerful-yet-slow Knowledge spell. But what really sealed the deal was Ken’s intellect which countered Chas’ reliance on brute strength.

To see the original battle, weapons and votes, click here.