ASIN: B00GFS0B8M
Cover Design: Melody Simmons
Chapter1 Ice Cream is for Dinner
Chapter 2 I Lied Biscuit I was Telling the Truth
Chapter 4 Holker Stadium at Dawn
Chapter 8 It is Why They Make Tinsel
Chapter 9 All The Best Lies are True
Other titles by John T. Buckley
Three started off chasing a dream. And they are…
Jennifer” Jen” Blacktide: former national merit scholar turned movie fanatic. Once garnered national attention for a newspaper she made in 5th grade called The Potter’s Pie (she was second at nationals).
Scott” Football head” Giddy: 3 time state chess champion. Founded the Zelda videogame Club; and took in 3 dollars per week from each of the 15 official members (for bringing the snacks, mostly Butterfingers and Little Caesar’s pizzas).
Fred Jamby: manages 7 kid’s paper routes around the city for a dollar per kid, per week (the job was grandfathered down to him from his father Earl, at age 11).
Ice Cream Is For Dinner
A brief sunbeam pierced the fog revealing a white haired, white bearded man named Gratus Tomlinson. He wondered out of the fog-and in one mentally for that matter-and over to Jen’s side. Jen looked down and saw he was staring at her with pool cue size eyes (they were good enough to be out of any reputable horror shop).
“When you look back on your life,” Gratus exclaimed as he slapped his hands together. ”Don’t borrow someone else’s lens. This will be the only thing that truly matters to you, in this life. Forget tomorrow, and you’ll be relentless,” Gratus insisted as he spoke into her ear with a meditative voice. The words pulsating through Jen’s face like a warm drink of coco.
“Jen?” inquired Fred reluctantly as he shook Jen’s shoulder.
“Fred, this doesn’t look like it’s safe to be here,” Jen said timidly. “I mean we could end up dead or worse. Maybe we should turn back?”
Jen rode along on top of a black stallion named Hoppa with Fred on back; they went through the thick Carterville swamp (that was engulfed in dense fog). They could see people poking out of the trees, dead as last week’s losing numbers for the lotto. Fred aimed his gun out into the fog and fired a single shot. He hit a crow and it simply careened into the water and disappeared without a splash. The sun was red and rising like the hangman in the morning.
“Jen, if there’s any chance we can live through this,” Fred continued,” Then we have to take it.”
They felt the back of their horse starting to rip open. And they fell into the vast belly of the horse like jelly beans poured into a ditch.
“What’s happening, Fred?” asked Jen frantically with dead bodies and a river of backwash around her. “I can’t see anything!” Jen cried as she pushed some human bones away from her face.
Fred lit up his lighter; and he saw there were scores of human bones all throughout the horse’s stomach. Jen let out a scream that bounced off the walls and caused the horse to sprint (further into the swamp now, much further).
“Jen, stop going nuts,” Fred wheezed, knowing he was as scared as her. “Just hold on a second. If we wait it will be fine,” Fred assured her hardly believing his own words. “Or we’ll just get creative.”
The horse took a wrong step and they were suddenly submerged in water. The hole in its back had barrels of water rushing in; and Jen and Fred were starting to panic. The sounds of moaning people could be heard getting louder and louder in every direction.
“FRED!” Jen shouted nervously as she punched the side of the horse’s belly.
She punched so hard that it created an opening the size of a bathtub: and they were sucked out of the horse’s belly and into the depths of the swamp. Fred swam with Jen out around a sleeping crocodile. Jen saw a flickering of light and swam right for it. Fred did the same and they shot right up to the surface.
“We made it, Fred, yes!” Jen said knowing it was a taradiddle rolling off her lips. “I’m not dying in some swamp,” Jen declared as she started to climb up the muddy slope, and out of the water. Fred did the same; and his eyes were hardly looking up at all.
“I knew it, we lucked out,” Fred said as he spit out some water. “Man, I need some nourishment.
Hey, what’s that light over there?” Fred asked cautiously as he walked the last few feet to the shore.
They saw a red light aimed at them-Jen hated all red lights from way back-and then Fred got shot once through the head. The shot killed him where he stood, Jen was terrified. She screamed and tried to
run, but the mud was so thick she could barely move. Her knees rose lower and lower with every step.
Then she saw the light in her eyes and screamed.
Jen awoke from her nightmare with a shrill scream. She looked at Fred as he sipped his coffee; and he looked at her like he’d seen Bigfoot in Bermuda shorts. She pulled her hair back from her face and smirked at Fred (she was not amused).
“Yup!” said Jen as she grinned.
“Yup what, Jennifer of Jenville?” asked Fred Jamby as he leaned back in his recliner.
“Yup!” said Jen brightly, as they were all lounging around in a cushion apartment. A cushion apartment doesn’t have a stitch of furniture: only large cushions, several televisions, and a bathroom.
You have to pay 100 dollars a year to be able to use one of the nearly 5,000 of them, on Earth and in space.
Jen giggled and continued curling her hair with an electronic glove called a Storm Lover (it sends a charge through your hair curling it instantly). Jen is 5 foot 5 inches tall and has a cute face and good body (as she would say). She has on a, I PUNCHED YOUR GIRLFRIEND t-shirt and red Levis. Her hair is blonde and curly like she just had a day at the hair salon (she had gone the day before and refused to sleep on her new do).
“I agree with her yup, Fred the gas blower, screw you,” Scott said facetiously and in a deep voice like a blues singer; and he rolled over to the window that was covered in sweaters to take a look (he saw only people floating around on anti-gravity couches drinking beer). Scott is 5 foot 9 inches tall and has a trim build with narrow shoulders. He has on a thin tan sweater (that he thinks it makes him look handsome) and a pair of black leather pants. And he also has on sunglasses (always tinted green or no dice).
“Fred, we’re just kiddin’ ya, man,” Jen said as she rubbed her back with the side of her hand. “You do smell, not that I noticed,” Jen said jokingly as she finished doing her hair and stared at Fred. Fred threw his shaggy red hair back and barked like a dog. He was all of 6 foot 3inches tall and bone thin. He had on a white sweat suit jacket-he had won in a raffle-and black and grey stripped dress pants. He always wore his multi colored flattop Adidas (where he hid all his cash in the soles because he didn’t have a wallet). Fred had dark green penetrating eyes that made people nervous (which made HIM
nervous).
“That smell is my considerable manhood shaking you to your KNEES!”
“No, not so much,” Jen fired back as she watched TV. She was debating watching Shadow Thief again, but she worried she’d cry again (she didn’t mind the crying, but she thought Fred and Scott would mind). Jen loved Shadow Thief; and she thought of it whenever she made her decisions.
“Hey it’s sunny outside,” Scott remarked as he stretched out his arms over his head. “Sure looks to be another HOT ONE in Cali’! I want two things out of this life, and both are money. I’ll settle for either one I mean it. Boy, a man and his foxhole, what a place to die,” Scott said but the sound of his voice was too chipper to be funny. He eyed an old homeless man-dressed in O.R. scrubs-as he bumped into people walking down the street. And then the homeless man crashed into a pizza delivery drone. This sent the pizza pies flying into people walking by. Some were wearing designer clothes that got ruined (and they debated killing him over it).
“I’d give both forms of money to you, but I don’t have either,” Jen joked.
“T’anks, Jen, so nice of ya!” Scott replied as he rested his head on the window sill.
“You’re welcome,” Jen said with her eyes on the Shadow Thief laser stick (which was a small black lipstick shaped laser case. And it could carry entire movies to your TV by just firing it in that direction).
“Hey, I just had an idea. What if we watch Shadow thief again? Come on, humor me before I die in a ditch somewhere,” Jen begged.
Fred laughed and rolled over Jen’s stomach; and then he grabbed the cinnamon pretzels before she could. Jen laid there with her mouth agape and her tongue sticking out. She felt great to have friends that she could be silly with.
“Shadow Thief, are we only watching that movie so you can open the Leo debate?” Fred asked.
“Yes!”
“Great, I was hoping you’d brightly say that, so I could do this,” Fred said sarcastically as he started gently pulling on Jen’s hair. Scott looked over at them and grinned like Charlie Brown finally kicking the football. And then he glanced back down at the street. Shadow Thief suddenly shot through his mind (and he knew he would feel that ache again for Leo if he watched it).
“Yeah, let’s watch it, and really talk it out,” Scott said loudly using a voice of an old man. “I need that scab picked,” Scott said as he watched the homeless man suck in, and then spit hard in the face of the woman helping him up. Scott saw this and cringed, but he wanted to laugh underneath.
“Me too, pick my scab for me,” Jen answered. “You know you wanna,” Jen said sarcastically as she danced around Fred and flopped down on her stomach in front of the TV. She motioned with her hand for Fred to get her an ice cream bar. Fred shook his head Yes; and then ducked into the fridge (that was hidden in the wall).
“I do wanna, even if wanna isn’t a real word,” Scott’s mind-still suffering from residual euphoria from the incident the night before where he kissed a random woman on the lips-his thoughts: took a chance, great kisser, should have asked her out, great kisser, and, of course, boy was she hot. “Jen, when you die, can I have all of the 35 cents you have in your pants pocket?” Scott asked as he debated eating during the movie or not. “Like, I needs me some loot. I could go lootless, then what, right. That’s right
you’re nodding means right, I’ll be eaten by wolves. I hate to say it, but that’s all I got to look forward too,” Scott confessed sarcastically as he mimicked the mannerisms of a young boy. He watched Jen giggling and knew he was lucky she was his friend.
“Nope, no deal,” said Jen.
“What?” Scott exclaimed as he grabbed a penny off the windowsill. “Why to the not?” Scott asked as he gently poked Jen in the back several times.
“Because, what else B. O.”
“Man I gotta shower at least once a month,” Scott watched Fred going for the laser to Shadow Thief intently (still debating watching it or not). “Damn, and eat more cookies,” Scott said as he watched Fred fall face first onto the cushions beside Jen. Fred reached for the Shadow Thief laser and fired it (starting the movie).
“Can we skip?” Jen asked coyly as she always asked to skip, but always made it seem random.
“Come on, I love the end first,” Jen begged warmly as she grabbed the remote; a second later she was riffling through the chapters of the movie.
“Yes, yes we can baby!!” Fred sang terribly as he pretended to be on the edge of his seat anticipating the movie.
“You know when you sing, people die,” Jen said jokingly as she kept her eyes on the TV (she hated hitting the button for wrong chapter). “Don’t sing in crowded rooms, Man, just don’t do it,” Jen said sarcastically as she finally made it to the final scene of Shadow Thief.
“Before we start, who thinks Ben Train should have won the Oscar?” Fred asked as he put his hand up along with Jen’s and Scott’s. Jen teared up at this-with Fred wishing he hadn’t asked; Fred and Scott knew that the mere fact that Ben Train had lost, really made her sad-and Fred hugged her.
“Obviously, he nailed every scene in the movie!” Jen said tearfully as she tried to pull it together.
“Except for one, Jen, the bet cost him,” Scott said as his fingers rapidly moved-making only the best guitar chords from the Halen-in the air above Jen’s head. “What was he thinking? You tell the director that in the final scene the KID, decides which parent to go with? Are you crazy? What if the kid secretly hated Ben’s guts, ya know?” Scott asked as he watched Shadow Thief start to roll; and Ben’s character entered the frame. There he saw his son Chum-played by a child actor named Jason Giddy who preferred people call him Chum at all times-standing in the rain between him and his ex-wife BETH.
“Wait, pause the movie,” Jen said as she shook her hands out like they were cold-even though it was 70 degrees outside-and moved to the edge of the mattress. “They screwed him because he had a nervous disorder. They want you to shake every hand, and kiss serious butt, and he wouldn’t do it. He changed acting forever, and this was HIS YEAR! I mean, even the guy that won was like, WHAT,” Jen said as she started to wipe away tears and shake her head like she’d been swimming. She still felt the same ache she had when Ben had lost the Oscar (she still owned her Oscar dress she had made from old sundresses that her aunt Tilda had given her).
“I know, he’d missed out on winning 3 times when he was young,” Scott answered as he opened a Coke can. “Which means they had to know he could win someday, but this scene-” Scott spoke with certain sadness in his voice. He eyed Ben’s blurred shaking hand-stuck there until Jen started the movie again-in Shadow Thief. Scott wanted to cry, but he knew Jen would breakdown if he did.
Ben walked towards Chum, holding a handful of movie tickets in his right hand, and cleared his throat.
“Chum, you hungry yet?” asked Ben warmly as he waved the movie tickets in front of his smiling face. “There’s plenty of those ice cream bars you like in the fridge,” Ben said as he stopped. Ben smiled at Chum who was 10 feet in front of him (while keeping an eye on Beth 10 feet from Chum on the other side). Her and Chum were equally amused by this.
Chum froze in his spot-grinning like he’d eaten the last piece of pizza-and he turned his head to the side (showing the slap mark from where Ben had hit him earlier in the day on his cheek). Chum started to turn towards Ben, but Beth-seizing her moment-clapped her hands hard together 3 times fast.
“Come now, Chum, no more of this,” Beth begged hollowly, as she acted like she was sick to her stomach, by bending at the waist and coughing. “Your bum father doesn’t deserve a son like you, Chum, and you know it. Just wave goodbye and we’ll..,” Beth said calmly before stopping herself-realizing she already had the sale in hand-and she fussed with her white sun dress (and she watched Ben out of her peripheral vision for cracks in his veneer).
“NO, Chum, that’s not good for me,” Ben interrupted a second after she had stopped talking-the embarrassment of missing his moment was evident on his face (he was sweating like race horses past the far pole-and he searched for the words. “Tell that bitch, you’re comin’ with me, now. HURRY!”
demanded Ben as he glared at Chum with a snake’s venom in his eyes.
“You hit Chum, you hit me hard,” Chum cried as he rubbed his bruised cheek. “Chum don’t like hit,” Chum said tearfully as he looked down. Chum kept tucking and then pulling out his red and blue stripped shirt (always worried Beth would slap him if he was unkempt in the movie or in real life).
Jen watched-with the patience and anticipation of a purse snatcher-and she couldn’t hold back her tears (as she thought of her own dead father Royalton).
“Go with him, Chum, please go,” Jen pleaded with her eyes pinned, like little lasers, on Chum.
Scott had a tear working its way to his neck-through a good shave from the day before-but he couldn’t stop now. He watched as Ben got infuriated with Chum (and he knew he was about to blow it, but a part of him still hoped he wouldn’t).
“I’m sorry, Chum, but you were bad,” Ben said apologetically-knowing he was winning with this voice inflection-as he offered Chum his hand. “You Took my Damn BEER, and THREW IT! Now You
God Damn KNEW THAT WAS WRONG! I’m not asking you get your ass over here now, NOW, CHUM!” Ben growled as he bunched up his hand-that was holding the tickets-into a fist.
Chum cried harder now, more than a funeral, more than a pet dying, and he looked dead at Ben, shaking his head the impossible NO. Beth meanwhile knew Ben was blowing it-fighting back the urge to cackle-and she stood there just calmly playing with her hair. She was getting ready to steal the scene from him heaven be damned.
“No, Chum, I hate this part,” Fred admitted as his eyes couldn’t find a way to stop watching. Fred knew Chum’s life was about to be destroyed; and he couldn’t watch a man like Ben’s dream die as well (but looking away wasn’t an option either).
“Daddy, why did you push me down the steps for laughing, why?” Chum asked sharply with his lower lip quivering, couldn’t stop it, slowly losing his legs beneath him. “I wouldn’t push you. I just wanted to laugh because you hair was so messed up. Why couldn’t I laugh, just once that day? I was a good kid, I didn’t make any MESS. I didn’t drink your Dr. Pep’s, why hit and push Chum?” Chum asked tearfully with snot coming out of his nostrils, and tears hitting his shoes. His voice cracked, and he could barely speak. Chum looked at Ben and tears clouded his vision.
“That doesn’t matter, get over here! You…you-” Ben lost his train of thought and froze up (in his mind he knew he was choking big time).
“Don’t listen to him, Chum,” Beth interrupted calmly with her hands batting away invisible dirt from her shoes. “He’ll beat you ‘til you’re dead. I’ll never hit you even ONCE, never. I swear to you, Chum, he’ll just keep on hurtin’ ya,” Beth said as she moved her foot like a young school girl would (from side to side in a youthful fashion) “All his days you’ll want him to be a good father. And all those days he’ll blow it. Jason, your favorite show’s coming on and yes, it’s Mister Bungle. Are you hungry yet?” Beth asked coyly-in a soft voice you heard only in church-as she knew she had him now. She watched Chum
trying to decide what to do, his eyes down, and Ben at a loss for words. She knew then, she had toppled the great BEN TRAIN.
“Say something!!” Jen cried as she was pulling her hair out. “Anything, SAY IT!” yelled Jen angrily with diamonds of light bouncing off her fallen tears. Jen saw herself as Chum, both losing their father when they were young. She wanted to hug him right then and there. She knew Ben was blowing it; and it made her sick to her stomach to watch.
“Oh God, here comes the look,” Fred said with his voice sounding dry and cracking.
Chum looked left, felt his bruised cheek, and then looked at Ben. Ben’s eyes opened wide with shock-completely wrong moment for the scene, and what the Academy admitted was his undoing-and he gasped for air (as he knew he had lost him).
“I can’t, too many bruises,” Chum confessed as he rubbed his cheek. “I, I just don’t want to hurt all time. Bye, Daddy,” Chum said tearfully as he kicked off the new sneakers Ben had bought for him. Both shoes resting in a mud puddle as a frog was leaping onto them a second later. Chum ran over to Beth; and she threw a soft smirk to Ben. Ben knew then he had lost the Oscar.
Jen hid her head in the cushions like a groundhog and cried. She punched the seat beside her 3 times hard, as she was beyond heartbroken.
“I don’t know why we keep watching it if it rips our hearts out every time,” Scott continued as he stood up and went to the window. “I mean, it’s his own stupid fault,” Scott said as he grabbed a Dr.
Pepper out of the fridge.
“You mean the bet?” Fred asked.
“Yeah, Fred, I mean it seems like a perfectly amazing premise, granted” Scott said with a voice that sounded more sad than pissed. “You enter the scene with no dialogue. And one person gets Chum to go
with them. And then is decided by that kid actor, what’s his name, Jason or something,” Scott explained as he shot his hands through his hair and tried to slow his breathing (Scott didn’t like getting angry for any reason). “I mean it makes me angry, because the script had Chum going to Ben in the first place. If he would have just played the lines, he’d be an Oscar winner right now,” Scott said, his mind racing through the different scenes he remembered form the news when Ben was found out to be in a self induced coma (and that day people found out he didn’t want out of that coma on the 6 o’clock, for any reason). “Probably 5 or 6 times over too. Instead the guy’s been in a coma for 30 years. It just sucks,”
Scott confessed as he knelt down, and rubbed Jen’s back with the bottom of his cold Dr. Pepper can, Jen trying to hold it together (and weeping).
“Yeah, and even weirder for me,” Fred said as he reached around the cushions for any loose change (or his bag of Skittles). “He has his New Life character taken from this movie-using his DNA to map out his entire brain scan-replaying the scenes from the movie on that planet, Verashit, I mean Veraclare,”
Fred spoke in a voice that said I’m joking, but not really. “That would be cool though, to act with him.
Like, considering he controls it from his coma,” Fred said as his eyes moved around the room like an eagle’s looking for his half eaten bag of Skittles; however Scott had already eaten them in the bathroom.
“No, no, please, Chum,” Jen begged as she rained on her chin. “Ah, I need to lay for a minute don’t ask me any questions,” Jen cried as she rolled over onto her back-her mind racing through the whole Oscar snub speech Beth had done (saying Ben was resting in space as she won)-and she watched the credits roll past at the end of Shadow Thief. There she saw the bonus frame-she had timed it out to watch just that-of Ben collapsing onto his chest.
“Scott, what if we went there?” Fred asked with a glimmer in his eye.
“Go there, ha…hah, come on,” Scott rebuffed with his hand punching the wall now. “Look if we go there we’ll all flunk out. My dad would be none too pleased with that scenario. No, it’s just a dream to me now.” Scott said hoping he could have said yes.
“Wait, we could go and be back in a week,” Fred explained with his hands joining the conversation.
“That’s only missing two days of school, Scott, come on yourself. Look, I’ll say I kidnapped you and made you eat dirt. But not sand, I don’t want that on my hands,” Fred said sarcastically now just walking around nervously (with a giddiness to his walk). “Oh, can we all just like do SOMETHING COOL, once with our lives?” Fred asked using his best shame the world voice. He reclined on a pair of pillows and sipped his Dr. Pepper like it was hot (to make Jen laugh, and she giggled at this).
“No way, no way, that’s crazy,” Scott answered mournfully, and the sun slipped out from behind a cloud (with Scott thinking this was a sign). “If anything let’s just go to the Balladerium and-”
“And play full body chess, in this weather, really, Scott?” Jen fired back without hesitation before Scott could finish. “No, I need this and I need it bad, Scott. Fred’s right who cares about school. You know you’re going to be working in your dad’s kitchen someday. You know, you know it,” Jen grimaced and grabbed Scott’s dangling hand. “And you also know you don’t need an ed-ja-ma-cation to do that.
Come on, let’s rattle the stars a bit,” begged Jen as she tossed pillows at Scott. “Let’s be rude to strangers, Scott, think about it,” Jen said coyly-knowing he would love doing all those things-and she leaned into Scott and tickled his stomach. Scott grimaced, as he was staring up at the ceiling.
“I am so screwed,” Scott said sadly as he knew he was about to do something really stupid (or really fun).
Jen smiled and then Fred. And they started dancing around Scott and singing the Hungry Hippo movie theme song.
“If you’re a really smelly hippo! Then you know you’re not my friend! But if the RAIN DOES GET
YA! You blew it once again!! I hate your neck, but what the heck, we knew it all along!! The Hippo is a part of us, and now he does beee-longgg!!!” Fred and Jen sang as they pushed Scott around playfully.
“Yeah, you only get one chance to really blow it in this life,” Scott said with his eyes looking down and his mind filled with thoughts of Veraclare. “And that time is now. And I’m TAKING IT! Let’s roll YOU MOLES!” Scott said as he jumped up and punched the ceiling; and then he danced around like a damn fool. He secretly wanted them to get him to go, because he had no desire to go school on Monday (seeing as he had a public speaking speech to deliver, which he hated).
They made their way into the gorilla head shaped car Jen owned (The Blinky Mousemobile). And it had the bumper stickers I SAVE TREES BY EATING THEM as well as the one YOU CAN SINK A SHIP WITH LOVE AND DEAD PEOPLE. SO I GUESS I’LL SWIM THEN. And they were stuck sideways on her back window (and the window was round and 5 feet across). They were on their way to Fresha Space terminal now. It was 3 miles away; and it rose up out of a manmade mountain.
At Fresha, Jim Kay a lean 6 foot 1 inch bald man-with no humor in his blue eyes-was arguing with security officer Jeb Brown (Jim had never lost an argument in his mind IN YEARS).
“That’s bull!” Jim shrieked as he glared at Jeb-hoping to get into an altercation-as Jeb just stood there stoically. “There’s no way you lost my luggage, bull-shit. I want my fuckin’ bags, and I want them now. I’ll crack that head WIDE OPEN, huh, Pal. That’s right, go get it, NOW! Worst damn service ever!” Jim barked angrily as he looked around for something-or someone-to punch. His beautiful purple haired girlfriend Kim Dealt stood there wanting to laugh-having seen this movie many times before-but she knew it would set Jim off.
Kim Dealt was all of 5 feet 1 and curvy (much like Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island). Her eyes never showed fear or worry (about dead people). And that is to say, she didn’t care about the past she just wanted to enjoy her life. Jim on the other hand, loved history and playing internet poker. He had won the World Series of Poker 3 times (the last time still in dispute as to whether or not he had seen his opponent’s cards). This put him in the class of Stevie Unger (the best ever to turn a card).
“Maybe he hid it?” Kim asked vaguely-knowing it would get Jim riled up-as she shrugged her shoulders. “Like, in a hiding place?”
“Kim, not now you’re wearing me out,” Jim responded. “God if I don’t get my laptop and those checks, man. WHAM!” shouted Jim his eyes on a soda machine; it was nearby and he wanted to smash it. He saw a man standing there trying to buy a diet Mountain Dew. His thoughts quickly turned to how thirsty he was for the same thing.
“Jim, don’t go Dew hunting,” Kim demanded as she held onto Jim’s stomach. “I need you to calm down, it will be fine.”
“Kim, I just need a fuckin’ Dew, not your yap,” Jim said sharply as he pulled her hands off his stomach; like he was pulling spider webs off his shirt. “I just hope that peckerhead, hasn’t snagged the last Dew. Hold tight here while I ah, go check. Serious I’ll be right back,” Jim said as he kissed Kim on the cheek, and then caressed her arm and left.
Jim jogged over to the soda machine (making sure to run like he was some sort of sports star out for a jog, knees high). He watched a: black haired, balding fat man named Harvey Smoke, shake the machine violently. They both could see the last diet Mountain Dew hanging precariously from a spiral hook.
“DAMN IT!!” Harvey shouted as he reared back like he was going to punch the machine, but Jim grabbed his fist and stopped him. “FAAALLL!!” screamed Harvey as he shook the machine. He lowered his shoulder and tried to smash it like a football linebacker, but it did little.
Jim stood there laughing to himself, but he still had his eye on the last Dew (he knew for him to have a good trip he needed that Dew more this Harvey loser).
“Gee, I don’t know about that one,” Jim said hollowly as he grimaced and slouched like he’d been turned down for a dance at Prom (he hoped Harvey would bite on his deception and beat it).
“You don’t know about what, WHAT?!”
“I mean, I had this happen to me once,” Jim said hollowly as he tried to act like someone had died.
“The same thing, where a Pepsi was stuck,” said Jim hollowly as he tried not to grin. “And, Man, I fucking shook that machine for HOURS, and it never dropped. Serious, you might want to go get the manager. I mean, ya know,” Jim said coyly as he secretly knew you just had to put in another 5 dollars and kick it-hard for that matter-and then the Dew would just fall like the stock market after a bad jobs report. He hoped Harvey was so mad and embarrassed he’d believe him.
“Yeah, yeah you’re probably right,” Harvey growled as he tucked in his sweaty Armani shirt.
“I can watch it for you, ya know, so no one takes it,” Jim offered, keeping his eyes off the delicious Dew.
“Thank you, I just love the taste of diet Dew, I mean I love it,” Harvey admitted as he combed his greasy black hair back; and then he blew snot out of his left nostril into the trash (Jim noticed this disgusting party favor but said nothing). “Alright ah, I’ll be right back,” Harvey muttered begrudgingly as he knew dealing with security was always a hassle. Harvey turned and walked off. Jim watched Harvey’s reflection on the vending machine’s glass front (just waiting ‘til he was out of sight to pounce).
“Keep going loser, just a bit further,” Jim whispered greedily as he eyed Harvey and then the diet Dew. He saw Harvey duck around a corner-relief washed over him the Dew was his-and then he felt a hand on his arm that startled him.
“Hey, Jim, I got your luggage,” Kim beamed as she showed Jim his brown leather bags.
“OH, yes that’s awesome,” Jim said as he quickly opened his wallet. “Did you check inside?”
“Yeah, it’s all there,” Kim said reassuringly as she rubbed Jim’s back. “You better buy that Dew or that guy will come back,” said Kim as she scanned around the terminal for Dew hungry tourists (all of the faces looking thirsty as sin to Jim).
“Yeah, I better before that assclown comes back,” Jim said as he got ready to scan his dollar in. “I totally duped that idiot. Hey, let’s walk further to the right over there on the way to the ship. I don’t want me and my delicious new Dew, bumping into that idiot. God, what a dope,” Jim said as he held the 5
dollar bill up to the scanner-rendering the bill useless after the bar code on the side was activated-and he greedily watched the diet Mountain Dew come almost all the way off and stop. The bottle teetered there unable to drop down; and Jim felt completely pissed off and kicked the machine.
“Yeah, that’s how you get ah 5 dollar Dew,” Kim said in a southern bell sounding voice. “Just break the 60,000 dollar machine. I knew you knew it, I did think about it myself too, Jim.”
Jim grabbed the diet Mountain Dew; and he chugged it like he was dying of thirst.
“What?” Jim asked as he felt the sweat under his eyes pop out (like it always did when he drank soda).
“Yeah, well fuck it! It’s my god damn Dew now. They shouldn’t have had a broken machine in the first place. I’d smash it too if that Dew hadn’t fallen. I swear, I need my Dew or I fly cranky,” Jim said as he drank the last of the diet Dew and blinked hard. He knew that was better than rocket fuel for him; and they headed for the terminal.
Harvey came around the corner-knowing he had a delicious Mountain Dew coming-and saw Jim had left. He felt instantly pissed and deceived. And when he got to the machine and saw the last Dew gone, he knew what had happened.
“You’re dead PAL, DEAD!!” Harvey screamed as he glared at an old lady walking past. “Man if I see that bastard again, oh is he screwed,” Harvey said angrily as he burned holes through the back of every face he saw.
Jim and Kim walked calmly arm and arm onto the anti-gravity ship called the Fresha (they were known by their terminal name all over). It used the gravity of a planet to slingshot itself 50 lightspeed to any destination. It did this by using a counter force to gravity called Ti.
Meanwhile Jen, Fred, and Scott had just parked the Blinky Mousemobile; and they were riding the moving couches on the sidewalk.
“Fred, you can’t ask me two questions in a row, it’s rude,” Jen said as she rested her head on Fred’s shoulder. “Just drift off a bit, get in your own head. Scott, talk to Fred he might be like ner…vous,” Jen said as she yawned. She sat back with the heels of her shoes dragging on the sidewalk (like she always did when she was young).
Fred looked around and saw there were hardly any people in the arcade. He eyed his favorite game-Caller Sky-and wanted to play it desperately. It was a basketball game that mimicked the real game; the only difference is you got to feel like you had a 50 inch vertical (Fred had about a 15 on a good day).
“Nope,” Scott said flatly- he started to feel hungry every time he got stressed-and he lifted his head to watch people hurrying to the Fresha.
“Scott, the load, the load needs shouldering,” Jen joked as she undid her bra (to let the girl’s breathe). “Sorry, I just wanna zone out, not think. Hmm yup,” Jen said as she saw they were riding past a man on his anti-gravity bicycle. The bike made the old long haired man riding it-a throwback to when people were obsessed with smoking pot for some reason-appear as if he was in flames using only holograms. She wondered why he wanted people feeling so stressed when they looked at him as he rode by.
“Nope,” Scott replied with his mind on the good looking blonde haired women they were riding past.
His thoughts were, if only she would look at me, I could smile, and that would get her to like me.
“Jen, why don’t we think about some stuff?” asked Fred hoping she would fill in his sentence for him.
“Ok, but not boring I’m so nervous stuff. I can’t be so…, ya know what I mean, Fred,” Jen answered as she leaned forward like she was going to vomit.
Fred laughed, and Scott chuckled, as they saw the sun was getting taken over by the clouds.
“What if the whole trip goes like, beyond our wildest dreams?” asked Fred with his hands barely able to stop moving (like an ice cube lasting a full second in hell). “Come on think about that,” Fred said as he rocked out to invisible music (some old indie band he liked, Black Laces).
“Yeah I think it WILL, the whole time,” Jen said nervously with her body slowly moving all around-with no regard for anything-the cushion covered floor. “I’m just dying to see it. Boy I hope I don’t get too nervous,” Jen admitted as she shook out her hands like they were cold (and she thought of acting with Ben Train and seeing Chum).
“My head would explode if you did, Jen,” Scott said now feeling the power of a good trip coursing through his veins (screw working for dad he thought). “Now, let’s go and find some parking. It seems like Mr. Fatback is ahead of us. Can you please move that belly, I’m waiting Mr. Fatback?” asked Scott sarcastically as he frowned with a wink at a 400 pound man ahead of them (he was riding on a golden motorcycle and driving into the parking lot, and his name was Mr. Neck).
“Yeah, I just decided the thing, oh yeah that one!” Jen said as her mind tried to calm down.
“What one, Jen, what?” asked Fred as he reached back and snatched a map of Fresha-it was so large you could rent luggage racks by the month-from a newsstand as a man bought his paper.
Jen played drums on her head, but the rhythm didn’t matter to her.
“I am taking the scream-eer.”
“No way, that’s too dangerous you could be buzzard breakfast,” Fred spoke using his less than manly voice. “I say we meander over to the terminal the long way, like long,” Fred said with his eyes on the terminal through a window (he felt insignificant and small coming even this close to it. AND ALL
THOSE PEOPLE, he thought).
Scott tried not to laugh, but the car had a great energy in it.
“Yeah, no more Fred nerves to hold this cowboy WITH HORSE, back,” Scott felt his words sail through the echo of the parking lot. “I’m taking the screamer too, Fred, so suck it pluckneck!” Scott said jokingly and he did gentle karate chops on Fred’s arm, with Jen doing the same.
Fred grimaced and dusted off his other shoulder. His thoughts were of when he was pushed down the slide by his part time father when he was 5 years old (hurting that same shoulder).
“No, I want sprinkles before I do,” Fred said glumly as he felt the weight of the situation dragging him down. “Whole handful, that’s my price. No cheap Fred let me tell ya about the TELL.”
“Fred, we’re not walking the 2 miles to the train; and then up,” Jen considered his request for a second. “So, take off those panties and grab your bag, I see our ride. I love a screamer,” Jen confessed as she grabbed her bag-barely being able to contain her excitement-and jumped off the couch while it was still moving. Scott hit the parking brake-fearing she might wipe out-and the couch came to an abrupt stop. He left the cushion in a same spot; but they had to climb off the side to avoid some homeless people fighting on the sidewalk.
“Jen, she has had her moment before,” Fred remarked proudly. “Third grade, doing stretches in gym class in a small shirt, oh yeah. Still my hottest moment ever,” Fred said as he ran after Jen.
Jen had a hint of a smile on her face, as she ran towards a mushroom shaped terminal (that was 3
miles across in the center). It had flashing purple and orange waves of light traveling throughout it constantly. It also had people riding Screamers, which were pods you strapped into (much like parachuting only you went upward). They took off like a rocket; the whole mile and a football field up to Fresha Terminal. It gave the appearance of total chaos, but the mortality rate was only 40 percent. There were large red anti-gravity police cycles flying around (that had everyone’s eye good or bad).
“Man, Fred, let’s all race,” Jen said as she pushed Fred’s hand towards his launch button-that read BE CAREFUL NOT TO LEAN BACK on it-with the top of her head. “Come now, races with speed, and distance, awesome!” Jen said as they all swiped their credit cards. They laid down on the Screamers and got strapped in.
“Awesome, gruesome death, for no apparent reason, sign me up,” Scott said anxiously as he held on tight and took one last quick breath.
“That’s the SPIRIT!” Jen said brightly as she tucked her chin into the rubber chin circle. “Scotty Boy, borrow some of Fred’s spirit. Then tuck in those tits, ‘cause I win,” Jen said as she smiled like she’d eaten all the tribe’s provisions; and she rocketed up the side of the terminal. Fred and Scott did the same a second later.
“THIS IS CRAAAZZY!!” Fred screamed as he held on for dear life. Fred didn’t actually mind danger: he just knew someone else would prefer it more. In his mind, he knew Jen and Scott saved him from his shy self.
They started to go more sideways-feeling cold and sick for the most part-and around a giant tower shaped like a dragon’s arm. They saw several thousand people doing the same thing as them on either side (and it was exhilarating).
“This is FUUUNNN!!!” Jen cried with her voice filled with a pronounced vibrato-caused by the intense shaking-as they all ducked into the tunnel leading inside. It had bright blue and green lights showing the way; with walls of light you passed through every so often. There were people eating lunch; and some eyeing the Screamers racing past the windows.
“Nope, way fun!” said Scott happily as he eyed a red haired boy named Kevin Parsley, as he dropped his ice cream and cried.
“Can the fun be over now?” Fred asked with sickness hitting his stomach. “LIKE NOW!!” Fred yelled as they spiraled into their separate colored tubes; and then got blasted with anti-bacterial sprays.
They did that as a rule of law (not a precaution).
Suddenly, they were blasted from behind with an air jet, towards a steel door. Just as they were about to crash into the door, it flung open. And they were gently helped out of the tube by 2-had been featured on romance novels-blonde men named Arto and Sam.
“Wow, that was awesome,” Jen said. A profound certainty swept into her mind: I’m going to see my idol Ben Train, this is real. “Fred, let’s go do it again. Come on, Old Fred, we need the excitement,” Jen insisted as she put her elbow into Fred’s side. And she smiled-like a character from the 1950’s-to make Fred laugh (she knew Fred was always better to be around when he was happy).
Fred groaned, nodding his head sarcastically YES. Scott looked at the departure times; and he saw they had 2 minutes to get to their flight, or no go.
“Look, we gotta motor,” Scott said quickly.
“What, we just got here I want a massage and some gum,” Jen said in disbelief-she knew Scott was acting mighty Fred for her liking.
“No, se6rious our flight is about to leave!” Scott demanded. “If it does we’ll have to sleep in the terminal tonight. Let’s go!”
“Oh my god, WHERE?” asked Jen excitedly as she reached for her ticket. Jen knew-from all the news channels she watched-that there were unsavory characters and smells in the terminal at night (that she wanted no part of).
“There!” Fred exclaimed. “I SEE IT! Well I guess the bad streak of Fred luck h-”
“FRED!!” Jen and Scott interrupted in unison.
“Alright, let’s run!!” Fred yelled as he flailed his seal black leather bag over his shoulder-like a young boy carrying his sleeping bag-and ran like he had gone completely nuts.
Jen and Scott sprinted alongside him; ducking people left and right. They jumped over a small kid playing in a coin fountain-it was made to look like a mermaid sunbathing-and Jen kicked his beach ball good and hard into an old man’s lap. They ran quickly around a man selling fast food pasta (he barely looked up). And they each snatched a single square of ravioli off a fat man’s plate (assuming he’d thank them later).
“I looovve me some pasta,” Jen said with her eyes darting around the room for a drink she could steal. “They should call it Jen, just so I wouldn’t forget ya know. Big talker, Fred, here, if we don’t make it I’m blaming you,” Jen said as she snatched a Pepsi out of an African American man’s pocket-she knew he’d thank her too someday-and started to chug it. Fred eyed a delicious ice and orange juice concoction a college student was holding. And when he tried to steal it from the college student; he tripped and flung the juice right into Scott’s eye.
“Sorry, I’m a bad thief,” Fred apologized almost meaning it by the sound of his voice.
“Fred, you’re due a good talkin’ too young man, it’s coming,” Scott said jokingly as he wiped his eyes and accidentally stepped into a meditation pool (being used by a group of Buddhist monks). And when he did the water splashed: ruined their karma, and the good vibes of all in attendance.
“Hey, I think I see it,” Jen exclaimed.
Scott and Fred smiled at this-while people behind them were getting ready to pound them-and saw they were running parallel to the ship (and you couldn’t mistake the grandeur of that vessel).
“I can’t, is it invisible?” Fred barked sarcastically as he swung his bag; and he smashed a young blonde haired man’s ice cream right into his face (somewhat accidentally). The man started after Fred, but the ice made his eyes hurt, and he abandoned his pursuit.
“It is, I can see it, because it’s invisible!” Scott called like he was entering an empty house. “Hey, why are we shouting, ahhh?!” asked Scott as they ran past some power lifters working out (in a Pecs are Life floating workout studio). Jen slowed for a moment, and blew them some kisses. Fred pulled on her arm, and they were off and running again.
“Because it’s EMBARRASSING?!” bellowed Fred. “I don’t know why, it just makes my head and neck hurt. Aahh! ” Fred yelled as he dove over an old woman-seeing she was spry to avoid him-and he did a forward roll around the corner.
Jen laughed to herself for a moment, but then she saw the ship. She could see people swimming inside; and they looked drunk as St. Patrick’s Day to her.
Scott eyed a piece of fried dough-covered in powdered sugar just like Scott liked-that a young boy had just bought. He knew if he took it, that kid would never catch him. Scott snatched it out of the tan skinned curly haired boy’s hand-named Rusty Nailer-and cackled like Krusty the Clown.
“I am the Law,” Scott said as he ate the fried dough (it covering his face in white powdered sugar).
“Jen, I looovve trips,” Scott used a southern accent that was more southern Maine than Georgia.
Jen ducked her head and looked away like she didn’t know him. Jen yanked Fred by his left arm into the tunnel leading to the Fresha.
“Keep your, I need meds and I talk to myself shit to yourself, Dude,” Jen kidded with Scott. “Fred, let’s ditch, Scott.”
Fred started to act like he was embarrassed to be with Scott-knowing the future joke value alone of such a thing-by running to the opposite side of the tunnel into the Fresha.
“Boy this is good fried dough, I LOVE IT!” Scott said as he ate the fried dough, but nearly took a man’s head off with his Nike gym bag as he swung it.
Jen eyed the ship’s doors-her mind on Ben and Veraclare-and she could see they were about to shut, damn she thought. Seeing this she ran and slid softball style-one year of varsity softball-into the crack below the door.
“Hey, can you open the door please?” Jen asked brightly as she smiled. “My leg is stuck inside,” Jen said warmly as she pushed her leg further in; and then she smiled like a catalog model for L.L. Bean.
Scott eyed the large muscle bound doorman named simple Granny; and he tried to act pathetic.
“Look, come now I…alright. But I better see tickets,” Granny said begrudgingly in a voice too deep for Barry White. Gary had a face for movies, but they were the invisible kind you couldn’t see. He was so ugly he creeped himself out.
“Thanks, Handsome, nice of ya,” Jen said hollowly as she stood up and strutted past Gary (knowing she’d never see him again). Scott and Fred hurried in behind her; and they saw what can only be described as utter chaos. There were hundreds of teenagers and no mall. There were gossip circles
forming; and I HATE HIM lists being written. The smell of bubblegum and cheap plastic sunglasses permeated the massive playroom. There were so many backpacks Jen felt nauseas.
“Jen, what in the false hip is this?” Fred asked. “I can’t hang with these kids, I couldn’t even when I was their age,” Fred said in disbelief as he started nervously looking around for a girl to ask for a dance-as old habits die hard-and twitched.
“Fred, we’re not hanging out with these losers,” Jen said as she scanned the room. “Come on; let’s go find the spot where the cool people are. Come on, ya know, the spot?”
“Yeah, Fred, it was SO OBVIOUS!” Scott joked as he hid his face in his shirt (like he didn’t want to be seen with Fred). “Hurry up,” Scott muttered sarcastically as he pulled on Fred’s underwear to remind him of 8th grade (specifically the Jeremy Hodson wedge incident. Where Fred was given so many wedgies he walked on his toes for THREE MONTHS).
They walked through the mass of teenagers, and Jen saw James Kay waving to them from the upper deck. He was smiling and half in the bag (if it was filled with whiskey). Jim eyed Jen and he knew she could hang with anyone. She had a certain spark he had never seen under the microscope of daytime.
“Up here, above the time warp,” Jim cupped his hands and yelled in a deep voice. “Serious, there’s food and drinks up here. Hey I’m Jim Kay, nice to meet you. Oh don’t call me Jim or I’ll murder you.
Just kidding, follow me,” Jim said as he ushered them down a brief hallway (with golden picture frames on either side of the crew and their kids). He led them into the Total Visual Enhancement lounge. It was called this because you had robots interacting with people and playing drinking games together (yeah robots can drink). You also had swiveling stages; with anti-gravity boot wearing rock and roll stars shooting out sound bubbles. Once you pierced the outer shell, it sounded like you were at the best show ever.
“Man, I mean, what a cool zone,” Fred said as he tried to convince Jim he was cool. And Jim heard this and laughed to himself (he knew Fred was chess club material, but not the captain).
“Yeah, it’s a COOL ZONE,” Jim mimicked Fred’s voice and mannerisms perfectly. “Huh, I hear ya, Brother Bear. No, we’ve got a long ride so we might as well enjoy it, right?” Jim asked barely able to talk he was laughing so hard; and he walked everyone into a private purple and gold colored lounge (it was called the Dry Ocean).
The Dry Ocean was as sleazy as the men’s bathroom at a porno movie. There were seedy types and undesirables lurking and leering at Jen. The smell was of Richmond Virginia: pack 8, row nine, and hospital bed 197. Even the music sucked; as a droning Radiohead like singer sang about his kindergarten crush dumping him (why did you stop holding my hand sort of stuff).
“Wowee, this place is hot!” Jen said sarcastically as she tried to keep from actually touching any of the undesirables.
Scott laughed and Jim still hadn’t fully stopped, but Jim had a lurking surprise for them all.
“Well they don’t serve beer here either,” Jim said hollowly as he coughed into his coat pocket.
“Nope, apple smoothies galore,” said Jim coyly. “Wowee, I could just die in this velvet. I’ll tell ya what, if the smell doesn’t tell ya you’re home, you are. Perk up, Fred, we’re in the COOL ZONE,” Jim said sarcastically as he could barely keep a straight face.
“I don’t feel so cool, less cool more hurl me out a window,” Fred spoke with a voice he saved for when he was uncomfortable. “Ya know, not to put down your favorite place, Jim, but this sucks,” Fred said as he grimaced like the meat was bad. Then Jim laughed into Fred’s sleeve with his eyes closed.
Jen eyed Jim cautiously-not sure if he was looking for a one night stand or what-and she saw he was up to something. She stepped through the last of the holographic walls in the room-unaware that there
was any-and she fell one step down and spun around; she saw hundreds of people playing a game reminiscent of chess, but with murder.
The hall was 8 stories high; and had thousands of small and large rooms throughout (accessible by elevator of course). Each of the rooms read like a who’s who of Hollywood (as not only the tourists wanted to see Ben Train one last time, the stars needed to as well). Even Beth was making the trip this time, but not to see Ben, but to DESTROY HIM.
Inside Beth’s lavish stateroom, she peeked out a small secret window at the game below. The scowl on her face was not anger; she just always looked like you’d eaten her breakfast. She was old now, much older than when she won her Oscar. The room was stately and extravagant, but reeked of white trash.
Beth loved monster trucks and-punch you in the eyes-whiskey, but she was ever the lady in public.
“Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, that joke never gets old,” Beth said firmly as she took another swig of whiskey (that could power a car).
“New crop of idiots uh?” asked Gloria with the excitement of a funeral.
“Same crop, different day,” Beth snapped her hand drifting down her neck to make Gloria horny.
“Find my GOOD DRESS. I need to stick it to those nut suckers! My, the day you stop giving it to the younger generation, is the day they bury you,” Beth said sharply as she eyed Fred-and she thought him a worthy idiot to mock-as he rubbed his neck and grimaced. Her eyes started blinking and then stopped dead in traffic. She looked at Jen and saw talent in her eyes.
“Here, they can bury you in this,” Gloria said, and she was certainly ALL of the seal black haired, 30
year old lover, Beth had always been lusting for.
“See that girl, no one knows her but me,” Beth pointed with her glass to Jen walking. “I’ve never seen her before, but they wash up on the shores of Hollywood Boulevard every day. They dream like us, they may even have talent, but they’re too damn kind to be nice to people. HER, that one is who I will
destroy. The GOOD SUNGLASSES, Gloria, hurry,” Beth said flatly as she eyed Jen at the moment she walked right out into the middle of the game. Jen started kicking the holographic chess pieces and giggling.
“I love this game, no one wins and we all care,” Jen declared with her actor’s voice loud and succinct. “Can somebody rub my neck, just a little neck rub here? Jim, it’s this neck, the one under my head,” Jen said as she smiled like a precocious child. She pulled out her shirt with both hands; and acted like she was a dancing monkey.
“Yeah, I’m down for that,” Jim said as he set down his drink and ran circles around Jen (literally).
“Jim, you passed me,” Jen spoke warmly eyeing Jim as he ran around her (she had an attraction to him she couldn’t explain).
“Now hold on, I just have to find the right angle to rub that neck,” Jim continued running around her with his tongue out the side of his mouth. “Which neck?” Jim asked. “The one carrying that chicken head of Jen’s.,” Jim spoke as he’d known her all his life.
“Oh that neck, haven’t seen it,” Jen said as she used her clothes as a makeshift Matador’s cape.
“Jim, these people are acting weirdo. They are definitely eyeing my neck, and want to yank it, yes yank my neck.”
“Jen, they wouldn’t dare. Back it up small fry,” Jim said as Jack Gouldville walked aggressively towards him. Jack was all of 5’4” and 300 game beats of The Legend of Zelda. He had eyes that made people get diarrhea, and legs that did the same (all stick like and gangly). He had on a jacket reading BASEBALL’S GOT DADDY’S BOYS, AND BASKETBALL’S MISSING ITS DADDYS. AND
HOCKEY STANDS RIGHTEOUS, AND JUST KICKS ASS!” His green sunglasses glowed when he spoke.
“OFF, the game board,” Jack demanded using his authoritative voice. “This match is sanctioned Hall of games, I don’t care to miss it. Move it along, still got your confidence in tow,” Jack said as he walked right up to Jim and looked him over. Jim looked at him and felt that Jack was hiding some sort of fight training.
“Jim, well, he’s definitely awfully close to my neck,” Jen held her neck in her hands. “I mean, I’m right here, Jim” Jen said playfully as she looked at Jack wolfishly grinning. Jack could see scene study in Jim’s eyes; and movement class in Jen’s hips.
“That is one fine neck yes, but I dare not touch it,” Jack said sarcastically as he acted like he was batting away flies. “So, Jim, here we are with our one man staring contest. How about this, I quit this stupid match and we use ah, well…we’ll see,” Jack said as he pulled out a solid gold game key (in the shape of a knife). He rubbed the blade up and down and the chess game disappeared (and the other players groaned).
“Good trick,” Jen walked around Jack poking his hips and arms. “I don’t mind you playing later when I’m gone, AT ALL.”
“Jen, glad to hear it, and it I hear. So, who’s up for some minor scene study, Jim?” Jack asked warmly as he started riffling through the different holograms of big time movies. Jen meanwhile watched in wonder as the movies formed around them. Scott and Fred walked out onto the game board, casually with drinks in hand and eyes wide. Fred wondered just how the holograms were produced out in space.
Beth started down from her room; watching the nauseating childlike glee on their faces with disdain.
She knew a small town somebody could get lucky if you let them, and cripple you. She watched as Jim pulled off his jacket-showing his muscular chest and arms-and his heterosexuality made her gag.
“Wow, this is like being at the movies,” Jim said in disbelief as he watched the movies change. “Are there fist punches and wet seats too?” Jim asked sarcastically as he felt the eyes of Beth on him (judging
by the power of her he knew already it was someone famous. He knew this because he had met Rick Klingrow once at a cabstand, and it was that same feeling again. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of looking over. That meant he looked for her reflection on the wall. When he saw her on the (Coors Light) mirrored door to the men’s room, he froze. Jim spun around and looked up at her as she glared back at him.
“Jim, we can make them wet, to remind you of home if you want,” Jen joked as she did a spinning turn. “And they don’t even, what are you staring mo-bearing at?” Jen asked as she tugged on Jim’s arm.
Fred and Scott looked up and saw Beth burning holes through them all.
“Oh no, not that crazy bitch,” Jack muttered sadly as he put his blade back in his pocket. Jack had a certain disdain for Beth, due in large part to an autograph she gave him once that read “ Go fuck yourself you little troll” that he never got over.
Beth walked down, grinning now, and tossing her hair back. She walked past the now shocked gamers-her eyes undressing them for fun-and over to where Jen was standing. Jen for some reason didn’t react, as her eyes looked at Beth, and then gently away. For Beth it was sheer agony, as she knew the hayseed had the jump on her.
“Hi there, how is everyone my little darlings?” Beth asked coyly as she flashed her 8 million dollar teeth (her last sham husband Larry Nurt paid for them).
“Hey, you owe me a god damn autograph, BETH. Why don’t you-” Jack started.
“OH of course, here, hand me your jacket?”
Jack handed her his jacket reluctantly; and she promptly tore it in half and flicked him off.
“No, the other jacket?” asked Beth snidely as she put her hand over her smiling mouth. “Come now, go scurry off and find you one,” Beth said gleefully as she fought back her horse-like cackle (that was wine tasting ready).
“You’re paying for that Skank! I outta.-” Jack said sternly before Beth raised her hand and silenced him.
“Gladly, was that real white trash sofa cushion material?” Beth asked condescendingly as she made contorted faces. “Because I’ve never seen finer, PA!” wisecracked Beth. “Now, I can feel some animosity in this room, per qui?”
“Per quat!” replied Jen quickly. “That’s French for donut,” Jen fired back sarcastically as she grinned like Beth was a shack hag (there was a large community of people living in shacks in Portland from Somalia). Everyone noticed that it took the air out of Beth’s sails, but only momentarily.
Jim eyed Gloria carefully, and knew she was about to say something vile due to a powerful intuition, he knew she was bad news.
“The, bacon is a food group girl, cracked wise, I heards it,” Gloria spoke in a southern accent and her contempt apparent to all.
Jack walked over-his every step beating the game board into submission-and picked up a screenplay he had written titled Gaining Grip. He tossed it across the floor; where it stopped just at Beth’s feet.
“Are we acting or what, Bitch?!” demanded Jack.
Beth grinned mischievously at this-she always had a certain reverse charm with the little people that kept them at bay-and she kicked his screenplay across the floor.
“Rubbish, what do you think I read CRAYON and DOOBIES?” Beth asked condescendingly with her hand grabbing her crotch (and her mouth contorted in a sexual fashion). “Please, let’s act something
with: class, intelligence, a defined moral compass. Something like, I don’t know… Red Clay?” asked Beth nonchalantly as she took off her coat by simply throwing her shoulders back. She again disrobed and took off her sunglasses (and made sure to keep her eyes shut as she did, for appearances sake). She knew the sheer power of such an act; it could and would cripple every actor in the room. She also knew Jen was watching.
“That movie is unactable, don’t waste our time,” Jack rebuffed anxiously, his eyes never leaving Beth (he feared she was serious).
Jen smiled like a bicycle thief; and started to run the movie Red Clay through her mind. She knew the car scene all too well, but she couldn’t remember the name of the town.
“Fred, or, Scott, for that matter, what is the town called in Red Clay?” Jen wondered aloud.
“It’s Pastoon since you asked me like I was a child and emasculated me,” Scott said as he filled his mind with calm thoughts: the windmill mini golf hole, Big Burger and Fries drive-thru, the backyard at his parents place. “Oh, I need a nap,” Scott said curtly, as he felt Jen shouldn’t show that side of him to Beth. Beth knew they were only schooled in the movie (and the book had different lines in it).
Beth curled her hair in her right hand; and she looked down at the floor. Jack began studying her intently; he was confounded with where she was taking this.
“Pastoon, God damn Pastoon,” Jen declared loudly with her head titled back. “I guess-and with no reason too-I miss it. I miss the air, always the streams, forever the sun, Cathy,” Jen said sadly as she walked out to the edge of the game board. She curled her fingers and looked vacantly away. Beth strode out 3 steps; and stopped tragically like a caught thief on an island of shadows.
“No, we won’t go back there tonight,” Beth insisted her voice shaky and frustrated. “Maybe tomorrow when SATAN COMES!” cried Beth angrily as she tried to scratch Jen. “I’ll kill you for that
one!!” Beth screamed angrily as she punched her own chest and face. Jen eyed the skylight and refused to even react.
“I still miss it, more now for some reason you crazy, GIN SUCKER!” Jen shouted as she ripped her dress down the side. “Go bone up some rent!” Jen thundered as she pushed back now on the firing pin; and delivered a shocking blow to everyone. Scott looked at Jen and knew that was not how it was played in the movie (it was better he thought). Jim grabbed a bottle of soda from a gamer, and smashed it on the floor. It sent soda up to the feet of Beth; and she didn’t even flinch.
“We’re not doing this again,” Jim spoke with a dangerous voice. “Nobody’s crazy here, but I’m going to be, if there’s not some respect shone between you two. Cathy, go lie down and SHUT, THE
FUCK, UP!” Jim said sharply as he walked briskly over to Beth: his hands shaking, eyes red, and chest heaving.
“No, no I won’t marry that idea,” Jen replied vacantly. “She stole me ya know, the real me. She hides me in her contempt and bad advice. Don’t ya momma?” Jen cried tearfully as she kept looking up and out of the scene.
“Ha HAH, you skank of a child,” Beth replied as she tossed little pieces of paper at Jim (she always carried notes to be camera ready at all times). “You were never anything to me but SHAME! You take after your father, fat and lazy with crude as your intellect. Why don’t you go suck some cow tit YOU
TROLL!” Beth spoke as if she was acting with idiots (careful to keep smoking her fake cigarette though).
Jim walked right up to her and slapped the” I’m better than you” grin off her face.
“You’ll stop ruining us,” Jim said as he clenched his fist. “Or I’ll tell the bank you stole that sixty thousand. Huh, Cathy, bitches and love suckers like you, don’t find it hard to get SHANKED, in prison,”
Jim said sternly, he had a cocky smile filling his face now; and he held onto Beth’s wrists (tighter than she liked). Beth sobbed with a tone of insincerity, this made Jack laugh.
Scott spun around in circles and sang the words,” Time can shake, the last of us still!!”
Fred suddenly remembered he had a line coming up. He walked with a pronounced limp over to Jen.
“Sorry to bother, but your horse big Dave uh, uh…I-.” mumbled Fred as he averted his gaze.
“What?” Jen interrupted as a tear bounced off of her cheek (she felt the old acting reflexes coming back now). Her face shook outward like a ripple of water from a raindrop.
Fred breathed heavy; Jim walked over with a scowl on his face and put his hands on Fred’s shoulders.
“What happened?” Jim asked cautiously as he watched Jen- her eyes red rimmed like Spot from the Little Rascals-as she was unraveling to the floor.
Everyone watched Jen including Beth (they all knew she was doing something amazing).
“Big Dave, he…ya know, horses are dumb,” Fred sputtered nervously with his eyes barely able to look at anyone. “He stupidly fell off my barn patio. Look, I’m not doing this, the whole hate the messenger thing. Big Dave broke his back, so I…I did what I had to do.”
Jim balled his fist up, and swung it wildly in Fred’s direction (just missing his nose).
“You killed my hor…you killed him,” Jim cried as he fell to his knees and disappeared into a ball.
Beth felt the time was right for an improvisation-it always was if you were losing-as she knew they were trumping her.
“OH fuck it he’s glue anyway,” Beth slapped her leg fast (to make a slapping noise that sounded like she was masturbating). Just, chop the head off we’ll make a stew. Hated that horse, and everyone that liked it,” said Beth as she fussed with her clothes. “Shame I couldn’t be there to see him snap his neck.
Look, if it’s any consolation I wished you were on it, just saying,” Beth said as she strode over-using her hands like a locomotive-and mocked Jim by pretending to weep beside him. Even JACK-who hated her-had to laugh. Jen watched this and had an idea.
“Nope, na nope,” Jen said with a thrill of youth protruding her every word. “You didn’t harm him.
You only showed your scales just then. Cathy, could you die more, and speak less?” Jen asked tearfully.
“Like, can I push you, off a nearby rocky cliff? Cause, if it’s yes, then I’ll push that head, and smack that crotchety smile GOOD-bye!” Jen said tearfully as she slapped Beth hard on the back.
Jack saw this and ran over to where they were and yelled,” Wait, there’s a technique involved! You can’t push that dumb head, she might escape. Let’s bury her instead. OR, she’s dying for poison, like maybe we-”
“What you sniveling worm, say it or SHUT UP!!” Beth thundered angrily as she grabbed Jack-making him feel like he was being dragged to detention-by the collar and yanked on it good and hard a few times.
Scott walked over and yanked Beth’s hair to the side.
“Nope, na nope, you don’t lay hands on him,” Scott put his free hand out like a wing.
Beth felt so embarrassed she longed for summer stock and shrimp cocktails. She eyed the other actors and then it all made sense.
“Yes, I am the apple no one eats, I am,” Beth admitted with her head low and some sweat sliding down her chin. “I’ve…I’ve lost my way. But you fuckin losers CAN SNIFF MY ASSHOLE!” Beth shouted. “What is that shock I see? Hmm, I’ll tell ya what we’ll all go in, and have some soup. I mean, why would you think ill of a soup bringer?” Beth asked warmly as she motioned for them to follow her.
“I know if it’s soup, I‘m THERE. Soup party! Come on, stop poking your biscuits huh,” Beth reassured them as she used a not at home look in her eyes (she seen another actor at The Actor’s Studio do that.
With theft being the primary reason anyone good went there anyway, she didn’t mind stealing it now).
Jim saw the look in her eyes; and he looked away for fear of laughing.
“Cathy, I’ll do it, but can we walk down some rickety old steps first?” Jim asked, paused and then sat down on the floor. “Come on honey, I forgive you for being a ROTTEN BASTURD!” Jim yelled. “I honestly do, gorgeous,” Jim said as he rubbed his index finger gently down Beth’s thigh (this disgusted Beth more than a public pool).
“NO, I won’t let her live,” Jack said with his left arm unable to stay at his hip (Jack did that one in the junior high play, big applause). “Let’s just shovel some earth and drop her in? What? That’s what my 3rd birthday party brought, a deep hole and me gasping for breath. Thank you, Cathy, that showed me the evil in this world, I thank you,” Jack said as he hugged Beth closely to him. Beth grimaced and acted like she was dry heaving.
“Yeah, I remember that one, where’s my dirt party day,” Jim confessed as he slithered to his feet. “I mean, the shit that I have to put up with, and no dirt, none to speak of. Damn it, Cathy, I feel neglected and SHAMED!” Jim said sarcastically as he threw his soda bottle up over Beth’s head. Jim looked at Beth with distant eyes and she froze (for the first time in twenty years).
The whole room laughed and then exploded into applause. Jim pumped his right fist and jumped up like he was drunk. Beth peeled Jack off her; and she did the EYES UP bow. Beth looked at Jen and wanted nothing but the absolute destruction of her and her friends.
“Who wants some ice cream, like some that’s actually cold?” Fred asked.
“Fred, I will have some yummy ice cream. Let’s face it, ice cream IS dinner,” Jen said.
I Lied Biscuit, I was Telling The Truth
Jim breezed up to the front of the observation deck and bar. Lots of people were sitting on cushions and singing songs-nothing from any reputable band or group-as they watched different planets go by.
The front window was bowed outward-the captain’s idea to scare kids-and had a see through floor if you dared walk on it. The smell of cheap wine and cheeseburgers permeated the air.
“Hey, did I miss anything?” Jim asked as he pushed a young boy aside (Jim was accustomed to being rude at every opportunity, or just when he could get away with it).
“No, Jim, we just passed a yellow planet, and Fred farted,” Jen used her hair to catch Jim’s eye as she fussed with it. “Aside from that, you missed Fred’s pride in ruining a good time for everyone,” Jen said sarcastically as she ran her fingers through her hair. Jen was really into Jim; she hoped he would get flirty with her at some point.
“So I missed everything, GREAT,” Jim said loudly as he kicked the blue floor cleaning robot-the FCR-hard enough to flip it over. “Damn it, Fred, if you’re going to humiliate yourself do it when I’m in a smells length of you,” Jim said sarcastically as he was lying down on the cushions, and propped his head up on a light blue pillow.
“Duly noted, I’m warming one up for ya now.”
“No rush, I can wait hombre,” Jim said. “You know who can’t though?”
“Who, if I dare ask?” asked Fred as he stretched out his stomach.
“Everyone alive, they love the near death experience of your Exploding man cave,” Jim joked as he put a pillow under his chin. “Now run and get me a biscuit, I’m old and I fart a lot.”
Scott and Jack chuckled, but they were watching the blue planet of Greata getting ever closer. It was the first of 4 stops on the way to see Ben Train (with tons of life to be lived there and they knew it).
“Man, if I had known the beauty of existence in space I…” Jack started before stopping as a geyser of flames shot out of Greata’s north peak.
“I know, I feel the same way,” Scott agreed with his eyes on the geyser (secretly hoping it would increase in size).
“Jim, why aren’t you complimenting me and using words more?” Jen ran her hand down Jim’s back.
“Gosh do I have to beg for tender sweet nothings and ALE?” Jen asked sarcastically, as she stomped her foot near the part of the cushion with Jim’s head on it. Jim chuckled and rolled over like he didn’t see her. Jen fell softly on top of him; and yanked his shirt collar hard.
“Hey, what was that for?” Jim asked playfully as he rolled over. “I thought I already gave you cab fare.”
“Jim, Jimmy, old Jim the slim, I just blew it all on waffles,” Jen said with her mouth on Jim’s shoulder. “So, I need you to carry me lovingly home. Like: we steal the ship, throw everyone off but our friends, and drink all the water in less than an hour. Then, we race back to my apartment and I force you to read my 8,000 page diary. Jim, Jim slim, come on,” Jen said sarcastically as she pushed Jim off the cushion slowly with her feet.
Fred gave Jim a cold strawberry ice cream sandwich.
“You look lactose intolerant, so eat up,” Fred said with a dry tired voice (but he realized his joke sucked mid-joke and he started to feel nervous). Jim grabbed the ice cream sandwich and was quickly devouring it. He also made a mental note: Fred was weak, nervous, and easily controlled. Jen eyed Greata over Fred’s left shoulder; her eyes growing wide and more dream filled by the second.
“Jim, ah, Fred, Fred head, I need to show you something,” Jen said with her hand motioning for them to take a look (like a traffic cop directing traffic through an intersection). “Can you, ah, just kinda do, like turn?” Jen asked in disbelief as she stood up and saw a massive Greata dominating the view. Jim spun around to see; and Fred turned his head quickly like he had found money on the street. There, lying precariously in the sky was the planet Greata; as huge plumes of atomic fuel and magma shot out of it into space. It created a river of glowing matter that dripped like hot marshmallow off the edge of a smore out into space.
“Holy cow, is this safe?” Jim asked his voice almost fading into a whisper, as his eyes were locked on Greata.
“Jim, I thought you had balls,” Jen muttered with her hand holding onto Jim’s shoulder. “Now, come eye this thing here, to look right at, with me,” Jen said as she pulled Jim by the hand (over to where Scott and Jack were painting Tom Sawyer’s fence, lying motionless).
Jack looked at what seemed to be some fake special effects (in an old movie with reference to the Star Wars 4th trilogy of course). He had heard space killed your naiveté. And now he felt his skin warm and his body light. He wondered if even in a dream he could swim through the magma; through atomic waste that looked so beautiful to him.
They saw a large multilayered red and dark blue spotted racing ship pierce the atmosphere (some half mile ahead of them causing orange bursts out the sides of the ship). It smelled of money with the words I KNEW ME ONCE, AND NOW YOU KNOW HIM. I WILL NEVER BE ME AGAIN written in golden and diamond encrusted letters around the protruding neck of the ship. They could see inside through the plasma windows-no one minding the invasion of privacy-and there lived a party. People were frolicking: and covered in yellow paint, feathers, and not much more.
“Ya know, you see that every day, all the time,” Jim said pretending to cry. “I mean, can we get some originality in our orgies people?” Jim asked sarcastically as he leaned in; intentionally rubbing his
shoulder against Jen’s neck. She looked down and halfway towards him; before licking her lips and patting Jim on the chest twice.
“Where are you from again, Jim?” Fred inquired his mind ripe with jealousy. “Because we have truck pulls, and underwear where I’m from, Portland way,” Fred joked as he pulled up his pants. “Now, invite me over now before I lose it!” Fred said sarcastically as he crossed his arms and looked back at Jim (Fred seeming the intentional goober to Jim).
Jim threw up his hands like he didn’t know, and replied sarcastically,” Come on, there’s a dress and cool code. You know you’re not invited right. But we do need wait staff and dirt scoopers. Because hey, we’re friends aren’t we,” Jim said as he hit his own chest like a silverback gorilla.
Fred jumped in the air and yelled like he’d won the lottery. They all started to laugh, before they felt a sudden jolt; and the underbelly of the ship bounced off the first ring of the atmosphere.
“Coool, I love a good crash,” Scott tapped the plasma window and licked it like a 3rd grader on your car window. “Because of all the crashing, and stuff I like,” Scott said, he peered at the second layer of atmosphere that glowed red, like Jen had…only unlike Jen, he felt more jovial upon seeing it, plumes of red death and sunlight bouncing off the large buildings, beneath Scott’s feet.
The ship shot into it; and everyone was tossed to the cushioned floor below. Jen rose up-her instincts telling her to get ready to act as soon as she could-and she looked at the white mountains and red lakes in and around the city of Num.
The sideways skyscrapers jutted out the sides of mountains; like they were forgotten toothbrushes falling out of their toothbrush holders. The white police ships lurking off to the sides-called Rodubs-were filled with drunken cops watching the new ships come in. There was also a yellow river-less water more poison to anyone who touched it-that looked like thick caramel flowing through a lake in the center. And to navigate the lakes and fiords, you had to ride to the sides of it (partially due to the inhabitants, who’s
unwillingness to fish tourists out of the poison waters made the government leave it be). Mansions of every color dotted the sides of the mountains; and they looked like unwanted children at lunchtime. The sky had gas pockets exploding in the clouds; that sent flames out every few seconds. The sky was littered with various luxury anti-gravity craft (if you didn’t have one the joke was that you were serving breakfast instead of eating it). They even had a pair of pencil thin poles-with flower pedal shaped hotels on the top of each-reaching up just short of trouble in the sky.
“Yeah, we really need some eyes to see this,” Jen continued as she checked her pocket for cash.
”Hmm, I still don’t see anything worth crashing into. And they call this a resort planet, lame. Oh, I meant to throw in a really there, excuse, excuse me now,” Jen said uneasily as her neck felt cold. “Jim, why are you so staring out the window, huh? Is it some sort of whipsaw? I’m way more mountain fever than those mountains. Hey, say something weird, I mean just talk?” Jen begged, as she hung her arm around Jim’s neck like they were old friends. She looked out the window peering into the newness of it all. Jim worried he wouldn’t be able to be just friends for much longer. He knew he was leaving Kim for Jen (and happy to do so seeing as he and Kim were not suited for each other).
“Yeah, I hear ya, Small fry.”
“Yeah but I can’t smell what you’re saying, I can’t smell,” Jen spoke quietly into Jim’s left ear.
Because what if someone heard her talking like a child and made wise. What then. “I mean, how am I supposed to understand those words of smelly? It’s so simple, Jim,” Jen said as she poked her elbow under Jim’s neck, and then lifted it quickly. Jim snorted out Jen’s name between laughing and lifting her arm. They heard a voice bellow like a wolf in a cave come over the loud speaker,” Try not injuring yourselves here in Num. The world you left behind is not here, not now, not in any way you can count on. You all have some time here, but the latest you can be back at the hotel is 7:30. If you are not, I really hope you like it here, because you’ll be here for the next year. So there’s that. Now the fine people
here have afforded each passenger 59,000 dollars on debit cards, for your vaca. If you should get eaten, please report the loss of the card. Thank you and don’t die today.”
Everyone started to laugh, but then the ship banked right suddenly. It took a hard left hand turn to correct itself-the captain started shouting out directions to the pilot-then it went straight down into the belly of a mountain cave. Red water surrounded the hotel Gasp; and it had walking bridges leading into it from every direction. It had been given the odd moniker The Gasp-like many a Beatles song in their day-because it was what everyone did once they saw where it was located (and Fred was no exception with his jaw dropped like he was having a root canal).
“No, you can’t have my kidney, I needs it, Jen,” Jim joked as he gently batted Jen away. “Hey don’t get frisky, or it’ll be your kidney I’ll be taking,” Jim said sarcastically as he wrestled with Jen (not minding her breasts rubbing up against the side of his face one bit). Everyone’s bags were on anti-gravity black and gold sleds-resembling dog sleds without the biscuit eaters-and they traveled directly to their rooms.
And above the entryway were the words in red ALL THINGS, ESPECIALLY THE BEST, DIE
HERE Jack read this and felt unnerved to a certain extent. He wondered if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Found your gutter yet?” Beth asked snidely as she kicked Jack in the ass.
Jack spun around and saw the bane of his existence. He lifted his hand like he was going to slap her.
Beth grinned triumphantly and tugged at the thin white sweater she had on.
“Ya know, Beth, someday I’ll forget what a gentlemen I am,” Jack continued as his arms felt strong and ready. “And then I’m gonna punch that smug smile off your face,” Jack’s lower lip quivered under the sheer celebrity of Beth. Beth cackled and pushed him into some flowers (like so many before).
“No, that day will never find you and I in the same existence,” answered Beth without even looking at Jack. “Now, fantasyland, there and there alone your pathetic dream will thrive. Hey, if you can’t play Broadway, there’s always the tobacco shop,” Beth said as she watched a young tan skinned woman adjusting her heal; she realized she found her attractive, and thought of bedding her down. But was she talent she wondered? “I’ll ruin your life a little more in the future. Please, have a round of warm waters on me, I insist,” Beth said in a voice that stiffened up more than a few spines. She walked past Jim with her eyes undressing Jen. She saw Jen was all the little heartbreaker; and wondered if she’d turn sexually for her.
“Ya know, that woman just has the worst intentions in everything she does,” Scott said while he watched Gloria French kiss Beth hard on the lips. Scott felt an inner pain-left unopened until now-that he didn’t know if he could compete with her talent.
“And she doesn’t slip and fall awkwardly enough,” Jen continued after pulling out her red wallet, “Things take time. I mean, I’m talking seconds, don’t getta me talkin’ about minutes. Then there’s cow patties Jim’s favorites,” Jen said as they entered the hotel. She watched their bags glide into the elevator-with a living room inside-and then straight up. It rose up just a few feet behind Beth’s elevator; and Jim made his way to the fridge (fearing his buzz would wear off at a weird moment).
“Nice!” Jim exclaimed.
“What?” Fred asked.
“They have a selection of Dew like products,” Jim was searching for the coldest Dew they had. “I just like it, not anything I want to share with you and your questions, Fred. No here, try one of these,”
Jim said with a wink (still trying not to laugh at Fred’s awkwardness). Fred took the green soda and went to take a long swig, but he tasted so much sugar it caused him to gasp for air.
“Fred, you know that’s poison right?” asked Jack sarcastically as he gave Fred a look like he could die.
Fred’s eyes became a harvest moon-large and eerie-and he coughed several times into the back of his fist. Then suddenly, out of the wall came their personal butler and guide (as if he’d been hiding in perfect darkness). Fred fell back to his knees at this (and Jen literally caught him).
“Hello, I’m Simon Told, just call me Simon,” greeted Simon as if his smile was made of ivory. “I am your guide and butler, but I don’t defend your persons. So if you are attacked, you’ll have to die less.”
Simon was all of 5’8” inches tall; and in the great striking type of shape as a boxer would be on fight night. His hair was short and brown, not outlandish. He had a deep purple and red swirling colored skin-that looked almost reptilian. His forehead had a white ivory bone in the center; that looked like a box you’d put a necklace in. His feet were size 10, but were exceptionally wide. On his back there was a rounded and spiked spine protruding out through his clothes.
“Hi, Simon, I’m Jen,” Jen said brightly as she offered her hand. “Boy, you almost came into the room in a creepy and screwed up way. Thank gosh buddy for that one. Gosh buddy is a round half pig doll I sleep with. You can’t borrow it,” Jen said as she gave Simon a one armed hug (he was grimacing as she did).
“You can’t borrow mine either, but you can try,” Jim said quickly as he rocked back on his heels.
“I’m Jim and I usually don’t tip, so be sure not to ask,” Jim said as he offered Simon his hand, but Simon didn’t take it immediately-thinking Jim the unclean kind-and they all watched Simon examining it.
Simon could see Jim could handle himself; and that meant problems later on for them all.
“Nice to meet you, glad we started off on the sarcastic foot,” Simon spoke as if his shit smelled better than yours (no one you’d trust with a secret). “Jen, you’re a vision…of dung,” Simon said
sarcastically as he lowered his head like he was going to bow, but stopped short. Simon put a hand on either side of Jen’s and Jim’s heads, and shook them.
Jack laughed-seeing as he felt someone had to break the awkward silence, Jim preferred it though-and he looked around the room; his eyes finding a large bin filled with wine and Green Beast beer bottles (made from straining out dead alcoholics livers). On the bottle there was an alcohol testing grip that told you exactly-very useful if you didn’t like jail-how drunk you were. There was also a red smiling face of a demon where you were supposed to drink from. The face opened up when it felt 2 lips surrounding it. It would then close without losing a drop of beer once you had finished your drink.
“Please, let me know where the fun stuff is?” Jim asked in a gregarious manner-his arms moving like Mick Jagger on the Steelwheels tour.
“Jim, if you would like to get going, we’ll need to be going down,” Simon responded with an air of superiority; as he waved his hand and the elevator stopped. And before they knew it, they were racing down and to the right (using the celebrity shaft).
They came to a stop in front of a white sports transport-with its windows tinted red. It looked like a swan’s bill with rockets attached; and it stretched out 40 feet in length. It had windows that bowed out when you neared them (for effect of course).
“Great, which one are you riding in, Fred?” Jim asked sarcastically as he stepped into the transport-knowing full well he was using Fred to calm his own nerves. Jim read the word TRAITOR on the ship’s front wall; and he deduced that it was the ship’s name. He whispered,” Traitor, I like this.”
Fred scowled at Jim; and filled his own cheeks with air. Fred tapped Jim on the shoulder and popped both cheeks once he saw Jim’s eyes.
They grabbed their seats around a variety of windows; on a set of white fluffy mattresses. The ship smelled of dinner and dessert all at once (making everyone hungry).
“Hey, heey!” Jim spoke like a burst of smoke from the tip of a Camel Light.
“Hey what, what hey is this?” asked Jack happily as he flopped down next to Jen. She was lifting her waist high when Jack did-he did sneak a peek for medical purposes, he said in his mind-and she looked out the window upside down.
“Hey!” Jim said this and made Jack-who was next to him-exhale unnaturally.
“Time for moving everyone, feel free to gasp,” Simon insisted as he fired up the engines-it sounded like being thrown out the back of a jet engine above their heads-and the sound system clicked on (the sounds of a trio of women cooing and singing the occasional note filled the ship). Then inexplicably, sounds of a ride through musical hell launched out of the liquid speakers. It created an all encompassing wave of sound; like a bucket of warm water being poured over your head as you slept.
“Nice, man I needed to relax, and relaxation helps,” Scott said happily as he tapped his leg. “Hey, look at those mansions as they disappear into the mountain, cool,” Scott remarked as he eyed the grand fortresses of wealth; they spun into the mountain leaving only a tree covered hill in their steed. It made Scott wish for wealth more than anything, but how he wondered would he get it.
“Nice is right, I say super duper rubber chicken underwear nice,” Jim said while looking around for a snack. “Nice huh, now we’re talking nice, Chumly. What was it they said of new experiences in ah-?”
“They overtake the past, Jim, I love that movie by the way,” Jen finished his sentence as fast as she could. “Boy Ben really nailed that one,” Jen said as she stared out the window; this while the hills lit up with campsites and fires (of certain future family memories).
They started to pick up speed. Simon swerved like a raven through the campsites. He saw a large barbecue pit-mostly steaks and baked potato like things on the grill-and he knew it would stoke the fires of hunger in the group. Simon still hadn’t figured out if he would be able to barter them for drugs. He needed those drugs, but he needed the rush of quick money more.
Soon the sky was shifting-making everyone feel hopeful-and the lake opened up to a settlement of dark green titled houses and huts. This settlement was called Gasp-owned by its namesake Hotel-and it was for the large number of freewheeling people living there. It also hinted at the drug lords-seeing as it smelled like Santa Monica and free love-and their grip on the residents. The sun shone off the roof of one house; and started a chain reaction to the others. The whole of Gasp filled with shards of sunlight from one house to the next. It reminded Fred of a game he liked to play on his Sega (Assassins Creed).
“Is anyone hungry, because I am?” Jim wondered aloud as he rubbed the back of his head. “Hey, Simon, my man, what kind of warm water comes on this trip? Because I loves me some warm tasteless water. I know you all do, but I asked first so I get the lion share,” Jim said sarcastically as he rolled over-knowing Simon was a bit of a killjoy judging by how stiff he was-and felt a rubber hand stretch out of the wall and help him to his feet.
“No way, I get it!” exclaimed Jack. “I am the strut baby, both legs,” Jack said as he rolled over and started hitting the cushion beneath him (like he was a child being denied dinner for telling his dad to fuck off).
“No, I have to say no to you,” Jim said, and he laughed so loudly it made everyone nervous. “Look, I need it, like worse than mud in my mouth. So tough, it’s filet mignon and caviar for you, Sucker,” Jim said sarcastically-knowing the energy in the group had just changed-as he started sniffing around the ship.
“I have something prepared, just a minute,” Simon said as he breezed past Jim; and he pulled down on a fridge and oven hidden in the walls. There he had several dishes in glass enclosed plates that were warm and ready to eat (better than food after a day in the mines) There were so many things to eat, that it reminded Jim of grocery day when he was young and poor.
“Great!” Jim exclaimed. “Just as long as it sucks,” Jim said happily.
“No, don’t tell Simon he sucks or he might suck your blood,” Jen said unsure if Simon was a violent man-but he had to be didn’t he, she wondered. “Jim, you need that blood, don’t let a blood sucking weirdo like Simon here take your essence. Sorry, Simon, I know you can’t help your disgusting vampire ways,” Jen said.
“Yeah, Simon, keep your eyes off my clavicle,” Jack said as he reached for a bottle of beer. “Like, it’s not cool, Man, stop it, stop it now,” Jack insisted as he rolled over and slapped the back of his hand against Jen’s (he tried not to laugh harder than her for embarrassment reasons).
Simon pretended not to mind-he had plans to take care of any worries he had for this lot of arrogant losers-with his only worry being they wouldn’t all eat the sedative before people started passing out. And he knew his fight training would not be enough to overpower even two of them.
“Look, the sun is filling the whole town with light,” Jack said.
“Interesting, it makes me think this is a fun group Ed,” Scott said, and he got moving forward now.
“Scott, that joke died like turd for breakfast,” Jack said his eyes on Simon, but Simon caught him with a quick head turn (Jack saw years of abuse in Simon’s eyes). “Don’t be so crude,” Jack said as he looked at a grinning Scott.
“Please eat up, it won’t stay warm for long,” Simon insisted coyly-his mind running through contingences for dumping their bodies off-while he steered them closer to the opposite shore. His friends were waiting for them there.
“Good point, I need to be fat in case my carcass doesn’t cook well for the cannibals,” Fred yawning so awkwardly he made himself nervous. “I mean, they are like picky eaters and murderers,” Fred said as he hurried past an eating Jim-wondering how Jim always got what he wanted-and he burned holes through Jim’s meatballs (covered in cheese and bacon bits).
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Jim said as he ate in a really loud fashion (even wolves were offended).
“Jim, I don’t believe you,” Jen said, her mind on kissing Jim and grabbing his hard ass. Grabbing it in both hands in fact. “I’m sorry, I think you’re full of sand and rabbit necks,” Jen said as she pressed her hands to the window, and glanced at the people below. They looked to be happy as could be, but she knew that look; she had seen it many times at the Old Port Tavern. She started to think they were all high and drunk as Christmas Eve.
“It’s not all sand, there’s some meat extract involved,” Jim now finishing off his meatballs and moving towards Jen by sidestepping. “Like, I don’t appreciate your comment, take it back. Take it back now, Sister.”
“Nope!” replied Jen.
“Man, to lump me in with the Freds of the world,” Jim spoke as if his dog had died. “I won’t, no I can’t take this lying down. If I have to sit straight up and eat, then that’s my lot in life,” Jim said sarcastically as he sat down; and he used a corner of a black mattress to steady his back.
Jen saw a man being beaten with wooden bats and metal Blackjacks to the left of the ship. And when one of the men saw her, they ducked behind a hut (which struck her as odd). She looked back at Simon and caught him staring at her.
“Simon, why are we going to this town?” Jen asked, her eyes never leaving Simon’s, “Like, it looks pretty crappy.”
“Jenny, it’s just for gas,” Simon hesitated, “Should be a cool time.”
“Why didn’t you fill up before we left?”
“I ah…I was going too, but you arrived early,” Simon sweaty and breathing erratically-he knew he had to think fast. “Yes, that was it indeed. I will tell you though, these people are harmless. They drink and drug, but they’re nonviolent,” Simon said hollowly as he put on his best countenance-fearing the whole thing was blowing up in his face-and handed Jen a bottle of (delicious) sedative filled beer. He knew he could handle her, but not her and Jack.
Jen looked at the bottle cautiously; and took it from him a few seconds later. Although when he turned his head, she dumped it out under the mattress. Good move, be smart.
“Jen, aren’t you thirs-”
“Fred, don’t eat so much and don’t mention what I just did,” Jen said sternly-without hardly making a sound- her face was flush with the importance of what she was saying. “It doesn’t feel right, Fred, like the concert before remember?”
“Yes, yes I do. But what about everyone else?” whispered Fred as he calmly dumped his food under a chair, and looked out the window.
Jen started to talk, and then stopped abruptly when Simon turned his head. Jen started fussing with her hair, and making goofy faces to put Simon at ease. She knew then bad grapes were on the vine.
“MAN this food SMOKES, SMOKES!! Woo, I said SMOKES!” Jim shrieked jokingly, flexing his chest and spitting food out the sides of his mouth (Jim knew this trip was a great idea and he loved his new friends, especially Jen).
“Speaking of smokes, does anyone have a mist cigarette spray bottle?” Scott asked his eyes watching the odd way Jen and Fred were sitting beneath a poster reading THE WEIGHT OF FAILURE IS TEN
MORE POUNDS PER BREATH “Like, the kind you inhale and stuff?” Scott asked as he continued watching Simon, who was working diligently. Scott suspected Simon was about to pull something, but he didn’t know what.
“Jim, my Man, is we riding the golden goose or what?” asked Jack in an overly confident fashion.
“Yes, and soon we’ll dine on said goose, Jack,” Jim replied, his hand rubbing his kneecap. “Bring on the new old food, and I mean kinda whenever. Did you ever see that one, that movie Goose? Man I love that one.”
“Yeah, I have and it was really inspiring to see something good happen to that old man,” Jack looked at him with sedative filled reddened eyes. “I wonder though, would he have lived if that cop hadn’t punched Cecil?”
“Yeah, and fucking Cecil was a badass, right?” Jim now leaning forward his interest peaked. “I don’t know, he may have still lived, but then I would have killed him. Just ya know, staying true to my character and all,” Jim continued eating his meal (and loving every bite). “No, I don’t know about my acting prowess, but I aim to lock horns with ah…the great Ben. Wow I feel sick. It’s like my head is heavy, and I’m sweating lunch ma,” Jim said nervously as he held his head in his hands like a small pumpkin.
Jen hopped up and rushed over to Jack and Jim. She dropped her voice like she was telling them something important,” Jim, maybe you shouldn’t eat and drink so much. I mean, just sit and tell me stories huh, Goofy Noofy?”
Jim shook his head a few times violently-his blood was rushing to his face (all red and puffy)-and then he flopped down on a mattress face first.
“Damn, I wonder what’s wrong with Jim, Jack?” asked Fred hollowly as he put his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe you should lay off the food it might have gone bad,” Fred suggested as he looked at Jack with a purpose and point. Jack looked at him for a few moments; and then set down his food realizing what Fred meant. Scott heard this and discreetly set down his beer, and turned to face Simon.
“No, Scott, you won’t be leaving or bothering me one bit,” Simon declared, his voice not friendly now or inviting. “Everyone, on your FEET!” demanded Simon. “We’re not going to pussyfoot around.
I’m selling you, the whole lot,” Simon barked sternly as he aimed a chest breaker gun-called a CB5-at Scott. The gun could tear through a body like a rocket; sure as shit taking your organs with it.
“Damn it, I knew you were bad news,” Scott admitted.
“Simon, we have money, what if we pay you to let us go?” Jen asked as she helped Jim to his feet.
Jack eyed the terrain as the ship was heading up a hillside-fearing there was no walking back down-and then they went into a tunnel. Jack knew then he was going die.
Simon didn’t register that request; he brushed it off his shoulder like it was nothing. “What, your wad of nickels? No, I’ll get millions for the lot, and that will end all the bad things. Remember, you asked for this, didn’t you? Thought you’d violate our private lives, you’re NOTHING. Nothing but cattle and horse hair here, ha hah. I’ll be laughing when you’re dead, won’t it be grand,” Simon said snidely as he keenly watched everyone (his CB5 constantly ready to fire). He felt the ship come to a stop, a bit different this time. ”Let’s go have a pot of beans, huh. It’s best to eat on occasions such as these, trust me.”
“Man, I’m going to kill your ass before this is over,” Jim said drunkenly, his eyes blinking several times, and a deathly cough. Jim wanted Simon’s neck for just a few seconds to squeeze like a ripe grape.
Simon laughed, and opened the outside door. They saw 150 drug smugglers awaiting their arrival, in a mass of smoke and steam. Drugs were big money. People were big money too.
“Not so much, Jim, maybe I’ll only piss on your grave, promise,” Simon responded after a second of silence. “NOW GET MOVING you bitches! Money is to be made,” Simon ordered as he moved to the side of everyone (his CB5 always sighting in one someone). Simon couldn’t wait for his bounty. He’d have drugs again, soon.
“Jim, Jen and I are fine, don’t worry,” Fred whispered into Jim’s ear; as he helped him down the stairs and into the vast echo loving cave.
The vats of hard drugs cooked throughout the cave…but of course it took some doing (and they looked like glowing green maple syrup bottles reaching for an apple). The smell was as fragrant as manure in the morning; and every one of the drug smugglers had forgotten to bath that month (they were too high to care). The smugglers were blue skinned; and had heads like handsome mutants. With uneven large eyes and jagged cliff like boney heads, they looked disgusting to any and all, but each other. They were 6 foot 10 inches to 9 feet tall and had folds of white skin around their necks. Their clothes were oily rags and their hands were sticky from mixing drugs all day. The sound of a dying jazz radio filled the caves. And the darkened tunnels went in every direction (they looked like traps for the daring).
“Hi there, Redgar, nice to see you,” Simon said warmly as he offered-the 9 foot tall killing machine head smuggler Redgar-his hand.
Redgar had large lines of scars across the bridge of his large speed bump covered nose. He had a look in his eye for killing, and nothing else. He had red and green spotted oily and smell covered canvass clothing on.
“Yeah, are these the bait I asked for?”
“Yes, and they are topnotch, Redgar, trust me on this one,” Simon talked 1 second from nervous with every word. “You won’t have any trouble filling their dead bodies with drugs, I assure you.”
“Yeah, how much?” asked Redgar flatly with his eyes on Jen (he thought of keeping her as a sex slave). Jen looked around the cave; and saw a pair of black and blue stripped ATV’s next to the wall. Jen knew that might get them to the hillside ( and then all bets were off).
“How about 6, maybe 5, o.k. 4?” asked Simon with his voice wilting.
“Done, now would you like to live or die, Simon?”
Simon laughed and Jim started to come out of his haze (much to his displeasure).
“Good one, very good great humor,” Simon feeling uneasy by how filthy-more so than usual-the smugglers were. Telling him they were as high as could be-and he shot his right hand into his pocket.
“So then, I must be getting back, about payment-”
“Simon, I’m going to bash your head in, and take these idiots here,” Redgar demanded. “Just, fight me a bit, I need the excitement,” Redgar finished as he called for a shock staff. He was quickly handed a red shock staff-the name saying it all-that could kill anyone with ease. He threw it to a shocked Simon.
“What’s this?”
“Certain death, enjoy,” Redgar said irritably. “Simon, I am gonna love watching your head splatter like a cheap egg in the pan. The rest of you, don’t bother fighting us, or running, we love torture here.
Now, that ah...ear, looks like,” Redgar said coyly as he walked towards a scared and nervous Simon.
Simon looked around and laughed nervously…but Jim could see his days were numbered. Redgar was a serious man.
“Come on, really?” Simon inferred a bit of shame that Redgar did not appreciate.
Redgar snatched Simon by the left ear, and ripped it clean off.
“Damn, Jen, we have to run,” Fred spoke urgently out the side of his mouth. Fred eyed the other drug smugglers standing about-and knew they were dead if they sneezed off key around them.
Jen smirked, and kept using the reflection off certain windows and drug vats to find a way out (through the caves, that was it she thought). She saw a single beam of sunlight and froze dead. ” Fred, as much as I hate dying, I hate dying in a horrible way more. Get Jack and Scott, we’re heading for that single beam of sunlight.”
Fred started to walk slowly over to Jim and Scott, with Jack just behind them. Simon screamed-like a 2 year old-and clutched the spot where his ear had been (but it was only a memory now).
“You SON OF A BITCH!!” cried Simon at the top of his lungs. “I’m gonna kill your ass!” Simon screamed angrily, swinging the shock staff wildly. Redgar only grinned and moved to the left of Simon.
“Jim, Scott, we’re running for that beam of light, be ready,” Fred whispered urgently as he pointed to the vat of drugs and the ATV’s. Jim looked at the light-through still foggy watery eyes-and felt his adrenaline surge. Jim felt strong and ready all of the sudden. He nodded and then eyed the other drug smugglers for weakness. He saw the farthest one from him was nodding off (as he was as high as Franklin’s kite). Jim knew that was the weak spot in the web.
“Please tell me we have a way out of here,” Jack said hopefully.
“Jack, just be ready to run and follow Jen,” Fred told him with words that felt like daggers. “She has a great idea,” said Fred as he kept his eyes from making eye contact with any of the drug smugglers.
Jack said nothing, and instead saw out of the corner of his eye a small handgun sitting-lonely as a wallflower-on a dark brown bench. He slowly moved towards it, keeping his emotions in check.
“Simon, let’s forget the whole thing and be friends,” Redgar said hollowly, and he laughed showing his 4 tooth grin. “Come now, I’ve had my fun, let’s hug it out, Old Chum,” Redgar said hollowly as he offered Simon a hug (Redgar simply wanted to beat Simon to death in any way he could).
“Really, we’re cool?” Simon’s trying to convince himself. “Well then, I won’t need this,” said Simon as he looked at Redgar, and then his shock stick. Simon walked casually towards Redgar; acting like he was about to drop his shock stick, but instead planting it in Redgar’s neck. The shock sent him hard onto his back-and Jen had seen enough play time for one day-and Jen ran like Usain Bolt. She went straight through the smugglers, with Jim and Fred close behind. Jack grabbed the gun, and followed them close as jam to a piece of buttered bread.
Jim planted a firm punch-3 years of boxing when he was 9 through 12 years old-to the head of the sleepy drug smuggler. The blow sent him to the left, and into a hot vat of scolding drugs. It burned his flesh and suffocated his lungs, killing him in seconds.
“We’re movin’, Jack, keep up!” Scott said as he looked back at Jack. Jack aimed his gun at the nearest drug smuggler and fired; splitting his forehead like a pane of thick glass meeting its first baseball.
“I’m working on it!” Jack yelled triumphantly, as he raced through the same cave entrance everyone had darted into.
Simon meanwhile, ran like he was on fire back to the ship; he didn’t take long to head for home.
“This way, see there’s an exit up those stairs,” Jen said boldly, as she ran up a set of silver stairs with red rugs in the middle of each step reading DON’T LEAVE HERE WITH PROFITS. There was also a sign reading I WAS BORN HIGH, LIFE IS WHAT RUINS MY BUZZ hanging down from a broken wood ceiling.
Jack entered the tunnel diffidently, with all the drug smugglers giving chase. He felt his adrenaline pumping so much-more than even smashing Halloween pumpkins-it was like his blood was boiling him to death (from the inside).
“Come now Jack, you can do this!” Jack tried to pump himself up-disaster he thought, he could feel his smoker’s lungs catching up with him.
“It’s blocked with some sort of reinforced plastic, but I think we can smash it!” Jen explained as she kicked the door that lead out of the caves (and it had a crack of sun shining through a small hole).
Scott ran full speed and kicked the door as hard as he could, but it did nothing. Fred lowered his shoulder and barreled into the door; doing little more than hurting his shoulder, and his pride.
“I got this, move out of the way,” Jim ordered as he leapt through the air; and he kicked the door with both feet. The kick took out the bottom of the door, but there wasn’t enough room to escape through.
“Going somewhere?” Redgar spoke with his voice snatching their confidence. He walked casually up to the base of the steps and put one foot on the first step.
Everyone froze at the tone of his voice (they knew it meant they were trapped).
“Damn it, I mean god are we dead,” Jim admitted as he picked himself up; and he turned to see the tunnel filled with drug smugglers. He knew he couldn’t fight them off (no one could).
“Please, come get used as drug filled carcass already, on me,” Redgar barked, as his gang shot up the stairs and grabbed everyone-carrying them into a secret room to the left.
Jen took a look back at the sunlight. She never wanted anything more in her life than to feel that sun again.
They tied them all firmly to oily recliners. Then they pushed them up against the back wall; with Jim and Jack facing Scott, Jen, and Fred. Redgar started laughing like he was getting laid for the first time; and cooking up some acid to devour their organs.
The walls smelled of rude things. And the ceiling was covered-with a surrealistic collage-with bag after bag of unlucky tourist’s luggage. They heard one of the drug smugglers start to sing the killing song. It sounded like the last thing you’d ever want to hear-barring a cannon to the back-with: low, arrogant, and jarring melodies.
“Just kill me already, I can’t listen to this song,” Jim spoke without the wisecracking confidence they all loved him for but desperation.
“Jim, I know we’re dead now, I know it,” Jen confessed her eyes heavy with tears. “I really cared for you, I’m sorry we met,” Jen said apologetically as she looked into Jim’s eyes and mouthed the words I LOVE YOU. Jim looked at her with a tear forming the size of a penny in his left eye; and he wondered how his life would have been different if they hadn’t met.
“My I love a stew,” Redgar spitting into the acid to watch the smoke bubble up. “You know, as far as arrogant, pushy, think they’re so smart tourists go, you’re the best. I don’t say that often, just every time. Now, this can go many ways. I can, kill you first, and then hollow you out, that’s one option,”
Redgar said as he tried to keep everyone calm before he killed them. More humane, I’m not a monster.
“I can beat you up so badly you’ll wish for death, fine option indeed. Or I can get really crude and let you live out your worst nightmares? Well then, nightmares it is,” Redgar said as he stirred the large bin filled with acid; and he looked at each of them with dead emotionless eyes (like murder was his hobby, and it was).
“Jen, I can’t take this, I HATE…wait, there’s a hole here,” Jack said anxiously, as he eyed the hole behind him where he had just kicked the floor. He could see green grass so sweet he could eat a whole pie of it. Jen looked at the hole, and made eye contact with Jim, her eyes telling him what to do.
“Alright, Fred, this is where I get to bash your head in!” Jim shouted coyly as he pretended to be going crazy. “I’ve had it with YOUR SHIT!” Jim shouted as he glared at Fred like he wanted to kill him.
Jim started bashing the wall behind and below them, as hard as he could with his feet.
“What’d I ever do to you?” Fred asked nervously, he looked at Jim-who was filled with the devil in that moment-like he was a different person.
Jim bashed the floor and the drug smugglers laughed; but the wall behind Jim and Jack started to break more and more. And there was very little holding the recliners up now. Might work if we get lucky, Jim thought as he looked down. Scott and Jen started yelling incoherently and kicking the floor.
The drug smugglers laughed harder now-their hands holding their knees, and their faces looked like out of work clowns-as it was like they’d one upped an enemy.
“There is no way out,” Redgar said. “You’ll all die one way or my way. Kick all you like,” said Redgar snidely as he stirred the acid with delight (having to switch metal spoons every few seconds due to the melting of the metal).
“Screw you, Fred, you bastard!” Jen shouted as she kicked the floor hard; and daylight crept up through a now even larger hole. Yes, this might work after all.
“Really, now YOU’RE pissed at me?”
Jim saw the support beam below him-with hack marks from rivals in the wood-and Jack could see it as well. They bashed the beam as hard as they possibly could; with the drug smugglers laughing hysterically.
“One last hurrah for the old smell, and the new hell,” Jim said as he kicked the support beam-like it was paper thin and not hurting his feet.
Jack used both legs and the beam snapped beneath all the recliners. They tumbled down a grass covered hill; still tied to their recliners except for Fred. He’d lucked out with loose ropes.
“This is awesome!” Jack yelled as he slid along the newly wet grass; heading towards the houses below (and the hope of safety).
“Man, help this hurts!” Jim shouted as he rolled end over end-the legs of his recliner catching the grass awkwardly and terrifying Jim-as he couldn’t break his ropes.
“I’ll try!” Fred slipped his ropes and slowed himself up enough to try and intercept Jim. This happened while the drug smugglers raced to break a big enough hole in the floor, for them to give murderous chase.
“Come back here and die!” Redgar thundered as he punched the floor again and again; glaring down the hill with blood soaked drug crazed eyes.
“Suck it, Chubs!” Jen growled as she broke free of her recliner. She felt like she was the most powerful person in the world just then. Yes, I could escape after all. And then her eyes focused, and her smile faded, when she saw the large white and tan stripped house that they were about to crash into.
Fred grabbed Jim and spun his head to the left, safely under the ropes.
“Just a second, Jim, I got this!”
“Hurry up, or we’re both screwed!”
Jack saw his chance to help Scott and he kicked him hard in the ass (breaking him free and toppling his pride).
“You’re welcome!” Jack grinned and slid on his back down the hill.
“The hell you are,” Scott replied, as he righted himself. He saw Jen’s recliner smash into the glass doors on the back of the house. And Jen: slid, flipped, and landed butt first on her recliner in the living room. She looked up at Mr. and Misses Henry Pottle; and they stared back at her in amazement.
“Sorry,” Jen apologized as she crossed her legs.
“Yeah, this won’t be the time of your life, smashing my good tile floor,” Henry growled as he tapped his temple. He wanted her to know he was as smart as any video game designer. “I will tell you I am quite im-” said Henry firmly as he stood up-his eyes seeing a blur of something coming down the hill-and then Jim and Fred came smashing through the left wall (feet first) They landed on the couch with Jack on top of a face down Jim.
“Jack, you’re a little too friendly with my ASS CRACK,” Jim sighed and lifted Jack off of him.
“Could you go ahead and get your lovemaking hands off my ASS!”
“Jim, don’t let our love die,” Jack said sarcastically as he hugged a reluctant Jim.
“It’s already dead, flat lined just-” Jim started as he pushed Jack off of him, but he saw Fred and Scott come barreling in a second later. Fred accidentally smashed a priceless vase; while Scott went head first into the kitchen sliding across the linoleum floor. Scott stood, and stumbled into a large turkey shaped woman named Wend Perch (who was standing there holding onto his muscles).
Wend was 5 feet and had a radiant personality. She had on a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt reading YOU’RE NOT THAT ATTRACTIVE, BUT I’M BLIND.
“Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself,” Scott said. “Can you, ah…let go, of my body? There, now I’m not so pregnant,” Scott said tentatively as he tried to look away from Wend. He found the middle aged woman quite attractive (her aura was so warm and friendly).
Wend grinned, and picked up a plate of porcupine shaped rolls with meat inside. ” Foods for eating, want some?”
“Maybe some other time, all this running for my life has ah… made me less hungry for food like stuff.”
“Well, I’ll save a little for ya, promise.”
Jim paced around the living room looking out the back window for Redgar. He felt like the last lobster heading for the boiling water. Jim knew if he died like this, it would be a life ruined on impact and spoiled forever.
“We gotta get outta here, like now,” Jim insisted as he looked up the hill. “Grab your shit we’re going!”
“Jim, how, where, we don’t have a ship?” Jack asked as he let out a long sigh and put his hands behind his head.
“Doesn’t matter, we’ll run,” Jim answered (only half believing it himself). “We’ll run and find someone who’ll help us. Look, we’re dead if we stay here, DEAD. I’m not dying. O.k. here’s how it’s gonna go, I’m leaving and you either come or die. Well, what’s it gonna be?”
“Jim, name’s Henry, and boy do I have a ship for you.”
“Really, where is it?”
“Here, right here in my mind,” Henry promised as he slapped the top of his head. “I’m gonna build one and we’re gonna fly the HELL outta here. Just hang here, and I’ll get to the business of saving us.
Wend, let’s find some wood,” Henry ordered as he kicked the stool marked MINE out from under Fred’s feet. Jim looked at him in shock-as he debated punching his head in.
“GREAT!” Jim said with his mind racing and his body sweating like racehorses in the rain. “Some old fuckin codger is shafting us. That’s all I need,” Jim growled as he looked around the room for a weapon.
“The ship is almost ready,” Henry assured as he kicked the wall and sucked on a red marble statue’s foot (it pumped pure pot anytime he wanted). “Once you got the thought, you’re halfway home. I’m telling ya, I can think us a ship. One large: bulbous, almost can fly, ship. Here, watch what I do,” Henry said as he sat down in his armchair-Jim was about to beat him to death-and started acting like he was pushing buttons and flying a ship.
“OH my god, is this really happening?” Jen fiddling with her hair-she did that often when she was nervous-and rubbing the back of her neck. “I haven’t been this patronized since church. Henry, why don’t you fly your fantasy ship into the lake?” Jen asked as she looked at Henry like Really? “Because if you do, there’s trolley folk that have gold there, yes gold. And you’ll be able to breathe underwater, I knows it! OH, and if you die, don’t fret, ‘cause heaven’s in a cave beneath your house. Oh, and if the pain makes your head explode, don’t worry it’s only temporary,” Jen spoke with a sarcasm any other time
would have had them all laughing, but not today. She looked at Henry with distant eyes and he her with indulgent father warmth.
Henry stuck out his tongue; and shot his head back like he was flying.
“We got company!” Fred said nervously as he eyed Redgar and his gang racing down the hill; and they were riding on sleds and large pieces of wood.
Jim raced to the back door and his eyes went dead quiet.
“Hey, we’re about to take off, grab a seat, and eat that meat,” Henry acted oblivious to the dire nature of the situation. “And when we fly, fantasize. And if we float, eat some goat,” Henry said as he kicked the floor-knowing something was about to happen-and kept his eyes on the large TV wall in front of him.
“You got any weapons here, Henry?” Jack asked bluntly as he looked thru Henry.
Henry spit and bayed like a horse. Then he heard Redgar drawing ever closer.
“Well, we can’t fight them off, there’s no way,” Jen murmured as she looked at an oddly smiling Wend. Why was she smiling like that just now? “What if we offer Henry here, as a human sacrifice? I mean, he doesn’t think and breathe normal anyway. Right, Henry, you don’t mind having your innards melted away now do ya?” Jen asked sarcastically as she smiled like an undertaker; and she watched Henry nearly convulsing now in his armchair.
“We’re dead, and we died like idiots,” Jack hitting every piece of furniture close enough to him. “I tell ya, if I had lived, I would have done great things. I mean it. I’m not just another person you met along the way. I have talent, and I could have shaken the tree of life down, to the ground,” Jack said sadly as he eased back on the couch, taking off his shirt as he did. The way he thought about it: why not leave the world as naked as you entered it? That made perfect sense to him now.
Jim looked at Jack (his neck stretching to the point it was almost painful) and then at Redgar which got him pissed off. He got so pissed; he darted into the kitchen and grabbed a giant carving knife. He ran back into the living room and screamed,” You wanna KILL ME!! I’m gonna cut your head off!! Come on, let’s have it!”
Jen looked at Henry as he opened the armrest (knowing something just wasn’t right). Suddenly the chair started to morph-with the crashing sound of wood and metal around them thrashing and breaking-and the whole house started to change like a set of toy blocks.
“Whoa, I am way past feeling this ice cream melty,” said Jen, her skin so sweaty and soaked her clothes almost slid off. “Henry, what’s going on?”
“Jen, hold on,” Henry said, as Redgar reached the back of the house. The middle section of the house lifted up out of the ground; with Redgar grabbing the edge and dangling there precariously as it rose into the sky.
Jim smiled, as he saw Redgar’s bloody drug soaked hands holding on for dear life. Jim walked over to Redgar-as he fought through his trepidation-and used furniture to keep his balance as they continued to ascend into the sky.
“Hey ah, Redgar, can I help you up?” Jim asked snidely, as he laughed like he’d shit his pants in French class.
“YES!” Redgar answered. “Please help me!” Redgar pleaded frantically as he started to lose his grip. Jim smiled and got down on one knee (on the ever changing floor) next to Redgar’s hands.
“Oh help’s on the way,” Jim said hollowly as he walked his fingers across Redgar’s. “I like to help, help I is and help I can. Now about this help, it will come in stages. First stage: figuring out how to make you fall and die less, important stage. Second stage: trying to pull your lard butt up. This stage will be trying, but I am the man and try I might. Now third stage: do you need a snack before we start, and can I
have that snack?” Jim asked hollowly as started slapping Redgar’s fingers-hard enough to break most people’s-and looking down at Redgar.
Jen smiled at this-she knew Jim was devious, but what was this-and she hurried over to Jim. Jen sat down next to Redgar’s hands,” Why’s he still alive, Jim, is he good eats or something?”
“Fine good eats, best I’ve tried,” Jim replied like a carnie selling wares at the Northern Maine fair.
“We can skin him, and fry him, and then we dine him. Right, Redgar, fairs fair right? I mean you were going to kill us, time you paid the ante, Lightweight. Stop scowling, it demeans us both,” Jim spoke like he was 8 years old, and he licked Redgar’s fingers (not caring at this point where they’d been, but he would later).
Redgar started to sweat and glare at Jim-his worst fears coming true and this prick Jim sticking it to him-and then he let go of the side of the ship and plummeted; like a bag of sand out of a fighter jet. He knew they were going to kill him anyway. So why give them the satisfaction? Jim and Jen burst out laughing; and they watched Redgar splat on the paved driveway of a mansion below (just missing the rich doctor who lived there).
“Boy the sympathy I don’t feel for that murderer, I’m ashamed,” Jen said sarcastically, her body feeling the ship jerk forward; and she almost fell off the side herself.
“Careful now,” Jim pulled her back like it was no big deal. “Oh god that was satisfying. I mean to know that prick was going to kill us, and then we get to do that.”
“Priceless, Jim, worth more than money,” Jen said, she looked extraordinarily stunning just then Jim thought. And then it dawned on her, they could miss their flight. She got up quickly and asked,” Hey, Henry, this trip is fun and all, but can you take us to the launch point for our flight?”
“What, I couldn’t hear you over the talking?” Henry was picking a wad of earwax out of his ear, and thinking that’s fresh. “Oh, you don’t like my hospitality, well bother me no more,” Henry snapped as he
banked hard towards the ground below (everyone yelled at this). They headed right for a rock wall; and then just as they were about to hit it, Henry flew them back up into the clouds.
“Yeah, we can’t WAIT, to get some more of that hospitality,” Jack spoke in a midtown sarcastic tone.
“I thought as much, who’s up for shooting some stuff?” asked Henry as he let out a call like a dying mule. “Like, I got cannons, and more cannons, I mean, cannons,” Henry spoke like a person caught bluffing; as he drank a beer with one hand and flew the ship with the other.
Jim looked at Jack and Scott-and they knew Henry had gotten into the cough medicine again.
“Hey, Scott, why don’t you tell Henry here, about all the great stuff back at the launch site?”
“Sure, Jim, not a problem,” Scott said coyly as he cracked his knuckles. “So, Henry, you like good, I mean GREAT food, and ahh...like drinks and TV?” Scott asked awkwardly losing his confidence mid-sentence. He grimaced and looked away from Jim when they made eye contact.
“Drinks, we got plenty right here in your new home,” Henry assured them, his eyes darting around the room. “Hey, who wants to play kill your friend? I got dibs on Jim,” Henry said coyly as he tried to really sell it that he was crazy; while they all debated jumping over the side.
“Yeah that sounds great and all, but…what about taking us to the launch site?” Jen asked in her nicest way. “There’s an idea, Henry,” Jen finished as she coughed hard like she was sick, and rolled her eyes.
“Launch what, we’re home, this is your home from here on in,” Henry replied his hands waving around like flyswatters. “Wend, go ahead and get these kids the sleeping pill filled wine. And oh, let’s get out the whips and chains for later. See, you’re family!”
“I think this old codger’s crazy, let’s thrash him,” Jim said sternly into Scott’s ear.
Scott looked at Jim and nodded yes; but when he looked at Henry he saw he had a large bat, with a red ball of electricity encircling it.
“Jim, I’m not touching that bat,” Scott said as he turned and walked away from Henry. “No, those suckers can kill people like me dead. So, the Scotts of the world would appreciate it, if you keep your hair brained schemes TO YOURSELF,” Scott felt his anger frayed, and he blamed Jim.
Jim eyed the bat-he still wanted to see Henry go for a midday fly through the air-and he could see Henry was ready for anything. Jim knew Henry might really hurt him bad, but he wasn’t living on this damn ship forever.
“Jim, please, Henry, you’re just kidding around with us aren’t you?” Fred asked defiantly as he picked up a seat cushion and tossed it at Henry. “Come on, the jig is up, whatever a jig is,” Fred demanded as he grimaced-like seeing a rain cloud on a sunny day-and Henry let out a laugh like a hyena (that unnerved everyone). In came Wend with a purple tray of food.
“Anyone hungry, the pills are warm?” Wend asked nicely.
“No thanks, maybe pills later when you kill me,” Jim added, as he motioned with his hand for Wend to get away from him.
They felt the ship bank hard right this time; and race down into a grove of trees.
“Maybe rich people tell jokes, I just crash,” Henry spazzed out-knowing they would appreciate it later-and acted like his hands couldn’t hold the steering wheel. “That’s what I do, and I do it well!”
Henry exclaimed as he smashed through some trees, sending Fred onto the carpet.
“Come on! Don’t kill us, please don’t kill us!” Scott pleaded as he watched tree after tree get mowed down like week old grass.
“I tell ya, Wend, the conversation is not up to royal standards,” continued Henry, “too many fart hellos and slap goodbyes. I won’t take it. No, it’s time to end it all, one last gasp and then ahhhhhh!”
Henry finished as he banked through an abandoned house, smashing it to pieces.
Jim grabbed the leg of a couch; and fought not to fall out the back of the house. Jen screamed, and then saw Wend smiling, and Wend mouthed the words” He’s kidding, Dear”. Jen looked at her-with eyes suitable for a train derailment-and then let out a loud sigh.
“Henry, can you cut the fool me fool you stuff?” Jen asked. “I’m onto you, I know you’re messing with us, let’s have it, Slim,” Jen insisted as she walked over to Henry; and she put her hands on her hips like a child catching daddy putting on the Santa suit. Jen looked down her nose at Henry. Henry grinned, and then he flew the ship sideways. The ship locked into the lower bay of the launch site, perfectly.
“Hey, we’re back!” Jim declared.
“You’re not setting me up are ya, Jim?” Fred asked as his feet shot to the back window.
“Ah no, not even I, am that devious,” Jim said his mind replaying the crazed look on Henry’s face.
Got to watch out for these guy’s in the future, he made a mental note. Jim muttered, “I lied Biscuit, I was telling the truth. Well, Henry, you’re a weirdo, bye!” Jim said as he ran off the ship; and sprinted up the walkway with Fred and everyone just behind him.
Jen stopped midway up, and blew a kiss back to Henry. Henry grinned like the devil, and nodded softly.
Treading Lightly
The ship left Greata behind; and soon it was up and flying at 50 times lightspeed. The crew played music in the dancehall (to a large adoring crowd of drunks). They played a style of music known as bad; and they played it all night.
“Jen, why don’t we just get wasted?” asked Jack as he flipped a grape up to his mouth effortlessly.
“Because, Jack, I don’t speak ah da right when I is ah wasted,” Jen said jokingly as she slobbered on Jack’s shoulder.
“I won’t hold you to a higher standard than myself,” Jack replied with a smirk. “So 8 bottles of wine each, none less!” said Jack as he threw his hand in the air.
“Jack, you crazy,” Jen spoke with a purring (not all there) voice. “Hey, is that Fred dancing?”
They looked up and saw Fred was spinning-something he thought made him look cool-and flailing his arms like a top. He hit an old passenger right in the mouth with is left hand; and then apologized to him.
“No, I wouldn’t call it that,” Jack said his mind still on Jen’s sweet body. “Assault, he’ll only be in Prisoncon for life, maybe more,” Jack muttered as he hummed quietly between each sentence.
Jen saw Jim eating a lobster roll-looked like it was almost eating him-and gabbing up two blonde women in spandex suits. She wondered if Jim was a player at heart, or a keeper.
“Yeah, I love being probed with sticks, it’s my forte,” Jim continued. “What, I can’t hear you, because you’re too drunk. Are you flexible?” Jim inquired.
“Yes, I bend and stretchy all night,” Sandi Soup confessed in a sultry voice. She grabbed Jim around the neck; and pushed his head towards her crotch.
“Whoa, you’re getting a little rough with the old Jim,” Jim was reluctant to go down on her in front of everyone. “Maybe we take it a bit slower, I got needs. Ya know, when you needs lovin’, don’t go head grabbin’,” Jim said sarcastically as he ate the last of his lobster roll.
Sandi punched him in the balls; and said angrily,” Screw you LOSER, I’m not waiting all night!”
Jim grabbed his balls-his ego hurting more than the physical pain-and he took a few quick breaths, as Scott came over laughing his ass off.
“Jim, that’s quite a come on line you got there,” Scott had all he could do to look Jim in the eye at this point. “Hey beautiful blonde, punch me in the balls and I’ll drive that pussy wagon. Got any tips?”
Scott asked and he gave up on trying to stop laughing. Jim rose to his feet grimacing; and trying to catch his breath. He eyed Sandi, and wanted to give her a good slap, but he would never hit a woman.
“What, what did you say?”
“Come on you heard me, Jim.”
“No, what was it about anyway?” Jim asked coyly as he toyed with Scott (using his best insincere grin). Scott shook his head; and then ran away screaming for five steps, and then stopped.
“I can’t remember, but that was way funny!” Scott snickered.
“Good one, tell me a joke from a mile away,” Jim wisecracked. “That really got me you jerk off.
Man, I need better instincts, that bitch,” Jim said angrily as he looked around. “Ah, god my balls hurt,”
Jim muttered and he tried to hide his embarrassment. Jen saw the whole thing-and she knew Jim needed her.
Jen strutted over to Jim; like she was the conductor in a large parade. Jim saw this and he nodded begrudgingly (half hoping she’d turn around and go back).
“Jim, I need to make you very happy.”
Jim shrugged-still holding his hurting baby makers-and asked,” How ‘bout you don’t hit me in the BALLS? Like that crazy bitch,” Jim said angrily.
Jen fought back laughter; and turned so Jim could look at the side of her face.
“I’m not laughing AT YOU, it’s that crazy bitch that has me pissed,” Jen said hollowly, pinching her leg to keep from laughing. “This is me pissed, for future reference. Jim, why don’t we go beat up the band? Like, they suck so bad I want to smash their instruments, first. Then maybe, we can shove them in the garbage shoot? It could work,” Jen said as she put her hands on Jim’s chest; and then she gazed up at him with warm eyes.
Jack watched them talking for a minute-wishing he had someone just then to talk to.
“Jen, come back to me,” Jack launched his words like a wad of spit. He finished off his glass of wine and his finger crept up to his mouth.
“Jen, I’ll tell ya what, we’ll kill the band and take their leisure suits?” Jim said as he adjusted his shirt (putting up the collar to look cool). “Look, this is the type of big thinking Einstein used. We all know it,” Jim said sarcastically as he rubbed Jen’s back-all the while trying to calm his temper.
“Yeah, I’m all for it!”
“Fred, we thought you had died, why are you letting us down?” Jim asked his hand touching the top of Jen’s butt.
“Jen, I’m half dead, and I’m trying here,” Fred said with his eyes searching for a place to sit down.
“Hey, what if we go grab a case of wine and go exploring the ship? It could lead to certain death? See I am trying.”
“Fred, ya know with all the stupidity that comes out of your mouth hole, that was pretty smart,” Jim confessed as he bumped his fist with Fred’s. “Alright let’s go, but we need to grab Jack and Scott first.
My feeling is the more the merrier, right, just in case,” Jim said as he ran his hand through Jen’s hair (it felt like silk and he loved it). He could still feel pain in his balls though; and he wanted revenge.
“Jack, Scott, let’s have some funny,” Jen said brightly.
Scott and Jack looked over at Jen-doing an awkward dance-and smiled. Jack wished he could be with Jen, but he wasn’t going to wait for her forever. He liked her spunk and goofy side the most.
They all walked towards the doors behind the band. Jim got close to the guitar player and pretended to dry heave. Jim pushed him hard into the drums (harder than just playing around). The whole room looked up and Jim said apologetically,” Sorry man, must’ve have been that rickety c note that tripped me.”
“Jim, oh my god stop,” Jen begged as she pulled Jim towards the doors.
They found themselves in a video arcade-with the drunkest people on board half heartedly caring about the games themselves-and saw people playing the games. There were 5 rows of the games; and several living rooms set up for relaxation. There were suits you could put on and enter the holographic games that could trick your senses. At the far end, men in black leather long jackets were sitting around smoking long red cigarettes (the smoke smelled like dried beaver meat).
“Do you like the ambience of this room, Jen?” Jack asked. “It makes me think of home.” Jack walked leisurely through someone’s game, and quickly out the other side.
“Yeah, this room takes me back to the first day I ever played video games,” Fred reminisced while grabbing a video game controller. “And reminds me how I PISSED my life away. No seriously, these games look pretty dope,” Fred said as he looked around for a place that had an exit into the other parts of the ship (he was anxious to see the other female passengers).
“Yeah, been there done that,” Jim responded a moment later than normal. “God, the amount of time I spent playing video games I could have, done stuff. I could have been really rich, ya know?” Jim asked hollowly (he was independently wealthy from a tech company he sold).
“Yes, rich is good, Jim, but especially if you’re poor, uh, Jim,” Jen said as she pulled out Jim’s back pocket.
“It’s true though, if you don’t have money, you’ll only really live half a life,” Jim continued after eyeing a Jet Ski game he wanted to play (it used real water and skis that latched onto your shoes). “You can eat, and do some stuff, but you can never truly feel alive. I mean, I feel most alive when I’m acting and traveling,” Jim said as he thought of the highlights of the trip so far. “To travel it takes money, and to act it takes lessons. My old man had very little money, and I always wished he could have been rich.
Like super rich,” Jim said as he walked through the room arm and arm with Jen and Fred (Jim thought back to his oatmeal for breakfast everyday youth and felt a chill go down his spine). And he could still feel the ache as new as Sunday clothes.
Jen nodded softly, and thought about her own poor life. It made her wish for luck and good fortune just one time if she could get it.
A man in black and blue clown makeup started doing forward rolls around them.
“Jim, we all know that feeling,” Jen confessed her mind going back to all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all the way through school (a sandwich she’d vowed never to eat again). “It’s like the
cold of snow on your face, you never forget that sting,” Jen said as she pushed the clown hard in the back with both hands.
“You could try and steal your fortune,” Jack suggested as he nudged a small red haired boy playing the game Thunder Life (the boy just looked too happy for Jack’s sake). “Then again jail is worst than poverty. I don’t know why we aren’t all rich?” Jack asked as he walked along watching Jim take in his ideas. Jack was studying Jim; he knew he was smarter than he let on.
They got close to the men in the black leather jackets; and a short blonde haired man shot up out of his seat, and approached them. He was named simply Rand, and he hated tourists. His hands and face were green, because of his heritage. He had a handsome face, and large shoulders like a bodybuilder.
“No, no, no, turn the hell back!” growled Rand as he waved his hand like a clergy man. “Back, now!
This ain’t no area for you,” Rand barked as he stretched out his back and went to push Jim hard into the wall-Jim saw this coming and was ready-and Jim slapped Rand’s hands away before he could (old playground move).
“Says who?” Jim said indignantly as he glared at Rand.
“Says me, idiot, turn around or get your ASS kicked!”
“Alright, Jen, let go of my arm and we’ll leave,” Jim said coyly-knowing he had to use the element of surprise-as he looked down and started to turn. Jen let go of him, and he clocked Rand hard behind the ear. The punch sent him to the floor in a mass of gangly legs and arms. His friends popped up out of their seats and glared at the group.
“Jim, I’m not a fighter per se,” Fred said anxiously as he tried to figure out how to throw a punch.
“Then learn!” Jim yelled his mind filled with adrenaline-he called it kickass juice. “These pricks are getting what’s coming to them. AREN’T YA, HUH! Mess with me and I’ll snap your necks!” Jim
growled as he angrily eyed the 3 of them. Jack and Scott picked two of the men-named Pickle and Tento-to attack. Jack had fight training for 5 years; and he was looking forward to kicking some ass.
“O.k., better late than never,” Fred said as he put his fists up (his long fingers unable to decide if they should punch or poke).
“You gonna die for that,” Rand said coldly his eyes never leaving Jim. “Out there, in space, it’s mighty cold. So cold, I hope you got a decent jacket,” Rand said coldly, as he pulled out a small gun with knockout bullets inside. When the bullets hit your body, toxins are absorbed into the skin. This makes you go limp and lose control of all your muscles. Jim pulled out a small pistol and smiled-like he was handing out Rolexes at Christmas.
“I got several, Pal, but I won’t be needin’ ‘em,” Jim responded dully his body barely moving. “Jack, Jen, pick one and GO!” said Jim as he aimed and fired into the belly of Rand. The bullet glanced off his large ribs, and spun him to the ground. Jack and Jen, along with Scott and Fred, ran at Pickle and Tento.
Fred ducked a punch; and Scott rocked Pickle with a punch to the chest. Jen kicked Tento hard in the knee. Tento returned the favor bitch slapping her face with the back of his hand. Scott hit Tento in the head with a beer bottle, knocking him unconscious.
Jim laughed and pounced on Rand. He started punching him repeatedly in the back, and along the side. Rand stood up with Jim clinging to his back.
“I ain’t dead yet,” declared Rand. “Pickle, Tento, pick it up!” Rand said as he grabbed hold of Jim’s wrist, and started spinning around. He was strong enough to spin Jim off his back; and to throw him into the wall. Jim righted his body just before the wall; and ran sideways up and then down it. Rand asked in disbelief,” Who the hell are you?”
“The last face you’re ever gonna see,” Jim continued his hands bloody now, “let’s go, I love a parade.” And he clapped his hands hard together; and glared at Rand as he approached. Rand looked
around and saw his gun lying up against a table (it was glowing red and had mist seeping out the gun barrel). Jim ran at him, and Rand went for the gun.
Jen punched Pickle in the mouth with the palm of her hand (a self defense trick her father had taught her in 5th grade). Then she kneed him hard in the gut; and she and Scott tossed him hard against the wall (head first). A crowd was forming now of shocked passengers; they were all keenly watching the Malay.
“I’m kicking ass!” Fred said triumphantly as he punched Pickle in the back, but Pickle kicked backwards and hit Fred in the stomach. Fred doubled over and gasped for life giving air.
“I got this one, Fred, stay safe,” Jack said confidently as he sized up Pickle. Pickle broke for Jack; and Jack laid flat on the carpet, and pulled Pickle’s feet out from under him. It made him land face first on the floor (breaking his nose more sideways than a sidecar).
“Good work, Jack, but we need to help Jim,” Scott said his eyes not crying but he was close; his eyes glistened in the lime green light. Jim and Rand were punching each other in the face over and over again; this while Rand continued reaching for his gun.
“Come on Jim! Fight this prick!” Jim’s voice was completely his wrestling coach Mr. Smith from High School; as he tried to land a clean shot to the head of Rand, but Rand was moving awkwardly to avoid the blows.
“Just a bit and you can feel some space,” Rand said as he had his pointer finger-slowly pulling the final answer towards him-on the trigger and his eyes were wider than dairy cows.
He grabbed the gun and went to shoot Jim; but Jen dove on his arm and pulled hard on the gun with both hands.
“Jim, hit him in the…NECK!” Jen watched Jim hammering Rand like he was a prizefighter (she knew he was a badass where he came from).
Jim heard her cries, and locked his eyes on Rand’s neck; and instantly punched him as hard as he possibly could. The blow concaved Rand’s throat; and he started gasping for air and heaving forward like a snowdrift towards the street.
“Fun, man this is fun,” Jen said as she looked around at the large crowd of onlookers. Fred landed a good hard kick to Pickle’s chin; and knocked him clean out.
“Fred’s the man, just ask Fred,” Fred said this as he did-his awkward homemade version of-some breakdancing moves. “Woo, I am smokin’ and I ain’t got no candy fools, YES!” said Fred, now strutting around with his hands chugging like a steam engine.
Jim looked up and saw Rand choking, his face turning red. Jim stood up and walked a few steps back. Then he ran full speed-acting like he was going to kick Rand-and Rand looked up in terror and Jim jumped clean over him.
Jim considered the situation and then said,” What do I care, you’re already dead. Man, could you speed up the dying, you’re really dampening the mood? Fred, maybe we need to dispose of these filthy beavers? Like, these fine carcasses, Fred, these ones,” Jim said, making sure it was loud enough for everyone to hear. He smiled and mopped the back of his sweaty head with his shirt. Jim felt like his violent days were behind him. If only. It had been 3 months now and nothing had happened (no fights and no real arguments). Just then he realized they would never be truly gone for him.
“Good one, Jim, I don’t do beaver,” Fred replied. “Especially filthy, smell of ass beaver like this,”
Fred said in a deep voice as he kicked Rand in the side.
Jim laughed for a few seconds; and then eyed the hallway Rand had been protecting. It smelled different, and air was oozing out of it like melted cheese over the sides of a meatball sub. He knew that smell, but he couldn’t remember what it was.