Jayson stands in the middle of endless dark water. Light pours through the clock shaped cracks in the sky and reflects off the water. The cracks shift like a clock hand telling time.
In front of Jayson is a door. Water gurgles beyond the door, and Jayson's ears perk. He runs to it and tries opening it. He rattles the knob, bangs on it, kicks it, punches it, and when he breaks through, he stumbles into a destroyed living room, dimly lit with broken furniture. A wedding dress is smoldering in a fireplace, and pictures lay broken on the floor.
Lexanne hums and her figure shifts in the darkness in front of Jayson.
Jayson's eyes widen, and Lexanne grins and extends her hand to him.
“Come see with me,” says Lexanne.
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Jayson's eyes snap open, and he finds himself no longer hogtied, but he is still wrapped in rope and is now being dragged through the forest by his legs. Lexia has the rope over her shoulder, the leaves and twigs crunch under her heavy books, her rocket launcher strapped to her back, and she is muttering to herself as she looks around.
“Lexia, what are you doing?” says Jayson.
“Putting you out of the way of temptation and harm. Now, if I were a hobo, where would I be? Oh, yeah! At a homeless shelter like a normal bum!” says Lexia.
“I'm not normal.”
“I know you're not normal!”
“You're not normal, either.”
“I'm very normal!”
“Deny it all you want, but you're a freak, like me.”
Lexia stops, drops the rope, and turns to Jayson, glaring with a fire in her twitching eye and her rocket aimed at him.
Jayson's ears droop and his eyes get beady.
“But a good freak. The kind that everyone loves! Like goths! They're weird and everyone loves them!” says Jayson.
“Not everyone likes goths, Jayson,” sneers Lexia.
“Everyone wants a goth girlfriend, Lexia.”
“Lies and deceit!”
Lexia pulls the trigger and Jayson is blinded by a bright flash of light. He feels nothing, hears only ringing, and when his eyes flutter open, he finds himself lying in a crater. Then the pain comes rushing in, like molten lava consuming him. All he can do is seethe and twitch, and Lexia stands at the edge of the crater and blows the smoke out of her rocket launcher barrel.
“You... Took... That... Very personal...ly,” says Jayson, his voice strained and his hand gradually sliding to his cosmic wood sword’s handle.
Lexia rolls her eyes with a scoff and clips the rocket launcher on her back. “Did not. And don't be such a crybaby. This is a non-lethal rocket.”
In a blink, Jayson springs up and yanks out his cosmic wood sword, engulfing the area in a light blue hue. Time crawls and all Lexia can do is widen her eyes as Jayson's wooden sword hits her in the abdomen.
Lexia flies back, and when she exits the bubble, she launches full speed away from Jayson. There is a sonic boom, and the mulch and leaves and weak branches are blown back while Lexia falls down a small hill, putting her out of sight.
Jayson falls to his knees, panting heavily and grinning at Lexia as he uses his cosmic wood sword to keep him propped up.
“How'd you like that?” says Jayson.
At first there is silence. But that silence is broken when a chainsaw revs, and Jayson's smile drops. Lexia stomps into view seconds later, seething and gripping a red chainsaw tight. She revs the tool, and Jayson's eye twitches while his brain becomes clogged with smoke as it struggles to process what he is seeing. But so far all he can muster is…
“Uh... What'cha got there, Lexia?” asks Jayson.
“My chainsaw. CHAINING TATUM!” yells Lexia.
Then she charges Jayson, and he curses up a storm and bolts through the forest. And Lexia cackles and runs after him while swinging her chainsaw madly.
***
Late morning light shines through Derrick’s glass patio door, bathing him in tranquil warmth. Held between his talons is a miniature space soldier in bulky armor armed with a large weapon. His other hand is a fine tip, precision paintbrush, coating the gray plastic figure in blue. On the table, sitting on wax paper are a dozen more of the figurines, all fully painted in blue, white and gold colors. And next to him are all the brushes, paints, protective coatings, and airbrushes one needs for precise painting.
While Derrick paints his soldier, a female eagle wearing the blue uniform of a postal worker gracefully lands on his porch, carrying a mail bag. She raps on his glass door, and he stops painting. Slowly looks up. Then turns around and frowns. The female eagle, Bridgette Baggs, waves.
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Derrick goes to the door and opens it. There are faint chainsaw sounds and screams in the distance.
“Hello, Derrick! I got a delivery for you!” says Bridgette cheerfully.
Bridgette Baggs pulls out a wrapped box marked with "Battle Hammer 401k". She gives it to Derrick. He takes it but looks past her shoulder with scrunched brows.
“Do you hear something?” asks Derrick.
“Oh, that chainsaw and screaming? Yeah, it's that Bazooka Bunny chasing the Hobo Warrior Bunny with a chainsaw,” says Bridgette.
Derrick's eyes bulge.
“Honestly, they should just kiss already. I can see the tension from two miles away.” Bridgette holds a form on a clipboard out to Derrick. “Sign here, please.”
Derrick quickly signs the form. Then he snatches the case, slams the door in Bridgette's face, drops the case on his chair and grabs his rifle.
“That girl's gonna be the death of me,” grumbles Derrick.
(*)
Jayson slides behind a tree, hyperventilating and heart racing. The heavy thumps rapidly approach, and then leaves and dirt is kicked up when Lexia slides next to him with a manic smile.
“TIME TO RELAX, JAYSON!” yells Lexia.
Jayson screams and Lexia swipes at him. Jayson blocks the chainsaw with his cosmic wood sword, and then hits Lexia away.
Lexia flies off her feet, and she bounces and skids across the ground, leaving a gash in the mulch. When she stops, she is face first on the ground, twitching and growling with her chainsaw a few paces away from her grip.
“Lexia, enough! I can't relax if you're chasing me with a chainsaw!” says Jayson.
Lexia pushes herself up, runs to her chainsaw, snatches it off the ground, and revs it again.
“I just want to bite you with my chainsaw!” says Lexia.
Lexia races towards Jayson, and he curses and resumes running.
“You're crazy! You're super crazy, Lexia!” yells Jayson.
***
In a peaceful, untainted portion of the forest, camp gear is dropped on a small clearing, and Mortimer, wearing his raccoon mask, smiles and rubs his hands together.
“Excellent camping spot. With Ramsey's information, we should be able to find our target,” says Mortimer to himself. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky with a smile. “It's almost over.”
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Mortimer is in his bedroom, doing pushups with one hand, muscles rippling and his gorgeous unscarred face staring at the wall filled with praises of jobs well done. Behind his is a wall of high tech computer equipment, all beeping and displaying colorful lights and streams of data.
The door opens, and Ramsey slides in, his black shirt tight against his bulging muscles and his white lab coat barely fits him.
“Mortimer Walter,” says Ramsey.
“Ramsey Prosper,” says Mortimer.
Mortimer springs to his feet and the two shake hands, muscles flexing, and their eyes magnetized to each other's awesomeness.
Ramsey holds up a filthy black feather, plagued with neglect and self-loathing.
“This feather belongs to a bald eagle,” says Ramsey.
Mortimer snatches the feather and inspects it with pure sleuthing mastery.
“Excellent. I trust you know where bald eagles live. After all, I'm not from around here,” says Mortimer.
“There's an enclave of them at the edge of Bliss Town,” says Ramsey.
“Good.” Mortimer clenches his fist, crushing the feather. “As Mama Bear’s bestest fixer, I will go there with my super-hot future wife and kill the Hobo Warrior Bunny and his eagle friend once and for all. Claribel!”
Claribel slides in, wearing a form fitting all black outfit with a large leather coat and dark sunglasses. Her golden hair is pulled tight into a ponytail, and she is holding two SMGs in her hands.
“Yes, my love?” says Claribel.
“Time to save our world from the Hobo,” says Mortimer.
“Excellent choice, my love.”
Then the two run out of the house, jump on a pair of motorcycles and zoom away towards a dark forest with large, winding trees and sharp thorny bushes. All while Ramsey stands on the roof with a single high testosterone tear trailing his cheek.
“Godspeed, brave ones,” whispers Ramsey.
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Mortimer smiles whimsically with his hands on his hips and his gaze turned to the fluffy clouds partially blocking the cracked sky.
“Yes… Beautiful moment,” says Mortimer quietly. He exhales after that, claps his hands, and turns sharply on his heels to smile at Claribel. “Claribel, darling, how are you doing?”
Claribel screams furiously and tugs at her blonde hair. Her tail rattles and the tent lays in shambles at her feet with her hat, and rifle resting on a rock.
“This sucks!” cries Claribel. “How do tents work? Why are they this complicated?” With frazzled hair and a twitching eye, she holds up a bent metal pole shoved inside another bent metal pole. “And why do these metal thingies never fit!?”
Mortimer sighs heavily and approaches the mess. He firmly grabs Claribel's shoulders and guides her to sit on the rock with her hat and rifle.
“Why don't you have a seat while I put up the tent,” says Mortimer.
Claribel looks down, grumbling and folding her arms tightly, and Mortimer grabs a couple pieces and inspects them. But while inspecting them, his ears twitch at the faint ruckus of a chainsaw and screams. Claribel notices this too, and they look in the direction of the noise. Said noise is rapidly approaching.
“What is that?” wonders Mortimer.
Claribel grabs her rifle and checks it while the chainsaw and screams get louder. Then suddenly, Jayson jumps through some bushes with Lexia trailing him with a chainsaw.
“You wanted me to bite you, Jayson! Remember!?” screams Lexia.
“Not literally!” snaps Jayson.
He slides behind Mortimer and uses him as a shield, tugging him in every direction he can to keep Lexia from whacking. This puts both of them in a circle and Mortimer holds his hands up while darting his focus between Lexia and Jayson.
“What the hell is going on!?” yells Mortimer.
Claribel shoots the chainsaw out of Lexia's hands, and Mortimer snaps around and tackles Jayson to the ground before he can draw his weapon.
Jayson quickly kicks Mortimer off and clutches his side as he rolls over.
Lexia draws her knife and jumps to cover as Claribel continues shooting at her.
“Jayson, it's those fixers!” says Lexia.
“You don't say!” snaps Jayson.
Mortimer draws his knife and swipes at Jayson. Jayson draws his cosmic wood sword and easily blocks the swipes, taking quick and calculated steps back as the fox pushes forward.
A few blocks later, Jayson hits Mortimer, and the fox skids across the forest ground, falls off a drop and lands on a bush.
With Mortimer out of sight, Jayson kneels and clutches his side again, breathing heavily.
As this happens, Claribel rushes Lexia, and Lexia grabs the rifle and swings Claribel into the tree. Claribel's tail wraps around Lexia's leg and tugs her down.
Lexia falls, but keeps her grip on the rifle, and so does Claribel. Both crash in the ground and roll over each other, cursing and making high pitched yells as they battle for dominance.
Then Jayson grits his teeth, runs to Claribel and hits her with his weapon. Claribel flies in the air and lands in a nearby creek. The water splashes, and Claribel is motionless as she floats down the creek.
Lexia and Jayson watch the rattlesnake float away, and once she goes around a curve, Lexia smiles at Jayson.
“Wow. Great teamwork,” says Lexia. She holds out her fist. “Pound it.”
Jayson glares at Lexia.
Derrick then lands near them and stomps forward, eyes burning with rage and the world darkening around him.
“Alright, what's going on here?” says Derrick.
Jayson points at Lexia. “Lexia chased me with a chainsaw!”
Lexia scoffs. “Tattle tale. Also, the chainsaw was harmless.”
She points at the shot tool, and Derrick and Jayson look at it, seeing that there is no cutting chain on the guide bar. Derrick and Jayson shoot glares at Lexia, and she smiles nervously.
“Alright, hear me out…” says Lexia.
Then she runs away.