Jayson collapses on the reservoir’s sand, limbs burning and water pouring out of his heavy clothes. Mud clings to him and the water carrying the grease in his hair streaks down his face.

A shadow descends upon him, and he looks over his shoulder and sees Lexia grinning at him maniacally and rubbing her hands together with the sunlight shining on her back. Water traces and drips off of her in all the right places. Jayson tries crawling, fighting the urges that Lexia the Succubus is imposing on his mind.

“You're still dirty, Jayson. Time for more super-duper pampering!” says Lexia.

“I don’t need any more pampering!” says Jayson.

Lexia grabs Jayson’s legs, and with a mighty heave she throws him back into the reservoir. His scream is short lived as he lands face first on the water, and then Lexia jumps on his back pushing him further in.

Jayson thrashes and twists and when he pops out of the water, Lexia wraps her arms around him, dragging them both into the shallow portion of the Reservoir, pressing his back against her chest.

Once in the shallow end, she sits down, wraps her legs around Jayson and starts scrubbing her fingers in his hair, breaking the clumps of mud, grease and dandruff that paste his brown hair into tangled knots.

“Derrick, are you going to let Lexia do this to me!?” yells Jayson.

“You need a bath,” says Derrick.

“I took a shower at the gym a few days ago!”

“And how long is a few days ago?” says Lexia, grimacing when she looks at dead bugs and hair strands stuck to her fingers.

“A few days ago is a few days ago,” says Jayson.

Jayson struggles some more, but suddenly stops when his ears pick up a familiar voice and he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head, and his eyes bulge.

Mortimer and the snake are walking towards their camp, with a rifle on the snake’s back and a pistol on Mortimer's hips. And they're both wearing form fitting wetsuits that does an excellent job of showcasing their physique.

“Uh, Lexia,” says Jayson.

“What?” says Lexia, still scrubbing his hair.

“The fox and snake are here.”

Lexia stops and snaps her head to where Jayson is looking, and then she hops up, shoving Jayson back in the water.

“Derrick, look out!” yells Lexia.

Jayson pops out of the water, gasping for air and when he wipes the water from his eyes, he sees Lexia has her rocket launcher out. He doesn't bother trying to figure out where she kept that weapon, though. Instead, his focus on the two Fixers heading towards them.

Meanwhile, Derrick looks up from his grill, and Mortimer and Claribel stop in their tracks. Both sides narrow their eyes, but Mortimer is the first to slowly raise his hands while Derrick has his stretched towards his rifle. Claribel has also unsung her rifle and is aiming it at Derrick.

Stolen story; please report.

“Easy now, I'm not here for trouble,” says Mortimer. He looks at Lexia as she runs out of the water with Jayson following close behind, and he grins. “Nice~”

Claribel glares at him, and Lexia smiles brightly and runs her fingers through her dripping wet hair, striking a pose for optimal viewing pleasure.

“Thanks, handsome! I'm glad someone appreciates my assets,” says Lexia.

Jayson stops next to Lexia, panting and holding her arm for support while thick globs of water drip off him. His other hand is gripping his wooden weapon’s hilt.

“Lexia, please don't flirt with the guy trying to kill us,” says Jayson, short of breath.

“I'm not here to kill anybody. I just want some hotdogs,” says Mortimer.

“Ain't got any,” says Derrick.

“You got a stack of hotdogs right there!” says Mortimer, pointing at the plate of burnt hotdogs.

“Them ain’t hotdogs.”

“You gaslighting tard, those are hotdogs!”

“They're burnt hotdogs.”

Mortimer's eye twitches, and Claribel uses her tail to tug on Mortimer's tail while Lexia inches closer with her rocket.

“Mortimer let's go. You wanted to relax, remember?” says Claribel.

“Fine. I guess we'll go. And starve. Alone and unloved,” says Mortimer.

“Don't be a crybaby,” says Derrick.

“Wait!” says Jayson sharply.

Everyone looks at him, and he has his hands raised towards both factions. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“Derrick, there's more than enough hotdogs to share,” says Jayson.

“Jayson don't give food to the people trying to kill us,” says Lexia.

“You were just flirting with the fox not too long ago.”

“The name's Mortimer,” says Mortimer.

Jayson jabs his thumb towards Mortimer without looking away from Lexia. “Yeah, you were flirting with Morty.”

Mortimer raises a brow, and Lexia gasps heavily while Derrick looks in his cooler.

“I was not flirting!” claims Lexia.

“You were flirting and trying to seduce him with your harlot attire,” says Claribel.

“Can it, snake.”

“Claribel.”

“More like Clari-lame.”

“Anyway!” blurts Jayson. “Derrick, being hungry sucks and there's plenty of hotdogs to go around. They don't want any trouble today, and neither do we, so let's just call a temporary truce and enjoy the reservoir like what you wanted and what…”

Jayson’s pointed finger shifts between the two fixers. His voice drifts to silence, and Mortimer sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I wanted to relax, too, but that doesn’t seem to be happening,” says Mortimer.

“Right, Morty wanted relaxation, too,” says Jayson.

“Stop calling me Morty.”

“Or what?”

“We’ll call you Jay,” threatens Claribel.

Both sides are silent as they stare at Claribel, and she looks between them, keeping excellent trigger discipline while aiming her rifle at Derrick, who is now closing his cooler.

“What?” says Claribel.

“None of us are having hotdogs,” says Derrick.

“You’re real dick, you know that?” says Mortimer. “And I’m pretty sure you’re the bird who shot me.”

“I did shoot you, and I said none of us are having hotdogs because there ain’t nothing to put on them. There’re no buns, no ketchup, no mustard. It’ll be bland and that’s nasty.”

Now everyone looks at Derrick, and Lexia runs to his cooler, opens it, and then glares at him.

“How did you forget the condiments!” says Lexia.

“Well, you’re in luck,” starts Mortimer.

“We don’t need condiments,” interrupts Jayson.

“Guys,” says Mortimer.

“You need condiments for a hotdog. It’s the law,” says Lexia.

“Since when?” says Jayson.

Mortimer raises a finger. “Can I-”

“It ain’t the law but it should be,” says Derrick.

“I just want to say-” says Mortimer.

“That would put you on the wrong side of the law today. Plus, how is that law going to be enforced?” says Jayson.

“But it ain’t the law so I’m not breaking the law, but it should be law,” says Derrick.

“Can everyone-” says Mortimer.

“It’ll be a stupid, unenforceable law,” says Jayson heatedly.

“At the very least it should be a social contract, like de facto law or something,” says Lexia.

“HEY!” yells Claribel, her booming voice echoing in the reservoir.

The talking stops, and Mortimer rubs his ear while Claribel takes a deep breath.

“We have condiments,” says Claribel.

Jayson, Lexia, and Derrick all vocalize their pleasant surprise and nod to each other.

“Now you tell us,” says Derrick.

“Why didn’t you say so?” says Lexia.

Claribel scowls and Mortimer sighs heavily and turns away.

“Whatever, I’m grabbing the condiments. Don't start without us,” says Mortimer.