“You didn't say nothing about no Exo-Skeleton that actually works,” Jimmy John said. He ran behind a personal-sized green tractor, the kind you can sit in and mow big farmhouse lawns with without having to walk and push something at the same time. Cletus's body jerked sporadically in twisting and twirling motions as the Exo's metallic body awakened from its slumber like one of Dr. Frankenstein’s wretched monsters had been zapped into the present, wrapped in a metal skin. Cloaked beneath a layer of modern technology.
“I didn't think the nuclear reactor was actually going to work,” Cletus screamed from high above the shed floor. His voice fluctuated with each erratic jerk from the skeleton.
“Geez, Cletus!” Billy Bob said. “Where'd you learn to make a damn nuclear reactor?”
“On the TV from another one'a them scientists,” Cletus shouted. “They said not to try it at home. But shoot, never thought I could actually do it.”
“Well turn that thing off before it throws you off and steals our spaceship to fly itself back to its robot planet or something,” Jimmy John said.
“I just need to hit that lever again,” Cletus said. “Lemme try.” With his two hands gripped tight onto the Exo's neck, he kicked up and out at the lever with his left foot. Missing, once, twice, three times. Foot dangling out in the air. “It’s my damn limpy leg.”
“Concentrate now,” Billy Bob shouted from behind a collection of shiny chrome kegs in the corner. Dust glimmered off of the yellow sunlight streaming through the wide open shed door.
Cletus peaked over his left shoulder. Biting his lip. Pump faking his limpy left leg to time his next attack. And then, Cletus pounced! Striking flush against the lever with the center of his foot. The Exo froze for a moment. Only a slight grumble and twisting of gears beneath its metallic skeletal body. The silence was interrupted by an ear-splitting siren bursting out from the skeletons huge metal head. And then… it marched forward. Its heavy feet rumbled across the dry dirt ground, shaking the old wooden shed.
“Oh shit!” Cletus screamed beneath a cloud of dirt and termite dust floating down from the ceiling. He clung tight to the Exo's shielded right shoulder plate. Its feet stomped forward. Smashing straight through the shed’s thin wooden wall. The bright orange orb hanging high in the skies shined through the gaping hole left by the advancing Exo.
“Would you look at that,” Jimmy John said, standing up from behind the green tractor. “Check it out, Billy Bob. Just like them cartoons,” he said, pointing to the outline of the Exo-Skelton traced with planks of broken wood.
Billy Bob and Jimmy John looked through the gaping hole at Cletus, wailing on the other side. It looked like he was at the center of some kind of lifelike picture frame in the shape of a giant. Growing smaller and smaller with each stomp forward, away from the shed. Towards the broken down farmhouse.
“Let's chase'em down, Jimmy John,” Billy Bob said. The two took off through the Exo's outline, disappearing into the orange daylight on the other side.
Off they ran. Arms flailing, their clumsy feet swinging wide. Following through the tracks left by the Exo's humongous feet. Cletus was yelling something inaudible. Growing more distinct as Billy Bob and Jimmy John approached.
“Stop! Stop Exo! Exo-Skeleton stop! Please stop Exo!” Cletus shouted.
“What's he doing?” Jimmy John asked, in between gulping breaths. “Why's he screaming at it?”
“I don't know,” Billy Bob said, panting. “Must have run out of ideas.”
The Exo marched straight towards the main house. Thirty feet... Twenty feet... Ten feet...
“Ah! I got it!” Cletus yelled. “Harold... halt!” The skeleton froze in its tracks, several feet away from the house where Betsy was busy cooking up her peach cobbler.
“Harold... simmer down,” Cletus said. The Exo's head drooped, shoulders sagged. The floodlight at the center of its chest flicked off as the machine’s gears powered down.
“Thank ye, Lord Jesus,” Cletus said, jumping down off of the Exo's back. He pressed his hands together in front of his chest. “That was mighty close.”
“Cletus!” Barked a voice from inside the house. “Whatchu doing out there?”
“Huh? Oh ahhh, sorry sugar. Umm... One of the cows isn't feeling too well. Got an aching stomach by the sound of it.”
“Sure does sound like it. Get’r some Peptol and send her off to bed to get some rest,” Betsy said from some dark corridor within the house.
“Will do, sugar,” Cletus replied. “C’mon, fellers. Let's skedaddle before my old lady starts yelling again.”
“What about your robot?” Jimmy John asked.
“Who, Harold? He’s just fine parked right here. It will take a lot more than a cow’s gassy gut to fumigate Betsy out the house,” Cletus said.
“Well then…” Billy Bob said, “to the Moon!”