The wildly-dressed man offered his hand. “I’m Kyle!” James extended his hand and gave his name. He sat down and beheld the lake; in the distance, a few people ran with their kites.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyle asked.

“Very,” James agreed. “The parks back in the real world are never this clean…or lush.”

“First world,” Kyle corrected. “There’s nothing unreal about this world.” He let out a large burp. “Except for how wonderful life here is.”

James heard the sound of carbonation escaping; Kyle pushed something cold into his hand. “Beer?”

James accepted it gratefully. “That is exactly what I need right now.” He took a few large glugs; it stung his throat. “Icy cold. Doesn’t get any better.”

Kyle clinked his bottle. “You’re damn right.”

James’ brow furrowed; there were several boxes of beer, but no ice in sight. “How do they stay cold?”

Kyle beamed. “The beer here is always ice cold, no matter how hot it is outside.”

James chuckled cathartically and took another large swig. “Then this is Heaven.”

“It might as well be,” Kyle concurred. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

James felt chills wash over his body. There might be a crowded, violent city outside the park’s walls, but in here, everything was calm and peaceful. He scooted back until he sat against the tree, and polished off the rest of his beer.

He heard a short hissing sound. “Another?” Kyle asked, proferring a bottle.

“I’d love one, but I shouldn’t drink all your beer.”

Kyle pushed it into his hand. “Take it. It’s that kind of day, and besides, the beer here is cheap.”

James gratefully accepted and took another large swallow. “I can’t believe I found this place. It’s like a dream.”

“Been here long?” Kyle asked.

“Only a few days,” James revealed. “You?”

Kyle let out a hollow laugh. “I don’t even know. Months, maybe. I lost track.”

James arched his eyebrows. “Really? So you don’t go home to the r…the first world at night?”

Kyle swept one of his arms. “Why would I? I have everything I want here. Good times, good beer, no stress, and the cutest Karnie girlfriend I could ask for.” He gave James a leering expression. “She looks good out of her costume, but I usually ask her to dress up like a harlequin. It gets my motor running, know what I mean?” He moved his beer bottle in for a toast.

James clinked it with his and they shared a laugh. “Don’t you have to work every once in a while? At least enough to fund your lifestyle?”

“Sure,” Kyle explained. “But it’s just the occasional taxi job. Thirty minutes of that, and I’m set for another month or so.”

James’ eyes grew wide. “You don’t do gang missions?”

Kyle shuddered. “I used to. I started working for the Karnies when I arrived here. I thought it was one big big barrel of laughs. But one mission had me blow up an Odesa drug lab. First, they gave me dynamite, which is really unstable, and can explode at any time if you’re not careful. Then, while carrying a bunch of that on my back, they had me invade an Odesa stronghold.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There were so many guards. So many guards. And these were big, tough Ukrainian gangsters, not everyday pushovers. I don’t even know how many I had to kill. It felt like two dozen. And any one of their bullets, in the wrong place, could have sent me sky-high. Then I set the bomb, and they told me to climb the scaffolding and watch it from above. Then…”

Kyle paused to finish the rest of his beer, then opened himself a new one, drinking heavily before continuing. “Then the explosives went off, destroying the lab…and a huge area around it. All of a sudden, I was engulfed in flames for as far as the eye could see! Somehow I escaped getting barbecued, but after it was over, I just stood there, wondering what I had gotten myself into…”

He took another large gulp, then turned to look at James. “That was the last gang mission I ever did. I decided I needed a less stressful line of work. But I was still on good terms with the Karnies, so I can enter Laugh Riot any time I want to. I went to see my girlfriend, Bootsie Bubblegum, and we talked it over. That’s how I learned about taxi missions.” He finished the rest of his beer. “I’ve been doing that ever since.”

“Driving a taxi is a mission?” James asked, barely holding back his amazement.

“And a stupidly well-paying one, too!” Kyle explained. “The longer you do it without failing, the more money you get. There’s also a bonus for getting to the destination quickly. Plus, every five fares, you get another bonus.” He shrugged and chuckled. “It makes no sense to me, either, but I’m not complaining.”

“There’s gotta be a catch,” James insinuated.

“There’s a time limit,” Kyle revealed. “But you just have to drive like a madman, weaving between cars and skidding to a halt at the end.” He smirked. “It’s a lot of fun! Plus, it’s a great way to learn the city’s layout, if you haven’t already.”

“I definitely need to do that,” James admitted. “And I could use the practice driving.”

“It’s the perfect lifestyle,” Kyle mused, taking another sip of beer. “I split my time between taxi missions, relaxing in the park, nailing my hot Karnie girlfriend…and blowing up ice-cream vans.”

James turned with a jolt. “What was that last part?”

Kyle smiled. “So, one morning, I awake to find my front door had a list of options, ‘business district’ and ‘bonus round A’. I’ve been here plenty of times,” he added, gesturing toward the city, “so I checked out the bonus round. Turns out it’s set in a small grid of simple city blocks, starting with a car and a bunch of vehicle machine-gun powerups. The goal is to to destroy twelve ice-cream vans in two minutes.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“That sounds dangerous!” James trilled.

“It would be,” Kyle continued, “but there, getting busted or wasted has no penalties. On the other hand, I don’t get to keep any of the money I make, so it’s a wash. But it’s an absolute gas! And despite having done it dozens, maybe hundreds, of times, I never get bored with it.”

James shook his head, smiling. “Incredible. I can’t wait to try that.”

“There are other fun ways to pass the time here,” Kyle announced. “Sometimes I get two ‘wanted’ levels, then I head for the docks and jump in the water. The cops keep arriving, either driving off the dock, or jumping in after me, where they immediately drown.” James started to giggle; Kyle couldn’t keep a straight face. “Just waves and waves of dead cops, and meanwhile, I’m laughing my ass off! When I get tired of the carnage, I just swim down the beach a little until I’m near a pay-and-spray shop, grab a car, and head inside. Suddenly, all the cops lose interest.”

James could hardly contain himself. “And they never figure it out?”

“Not yet, they haven’t!” They both laughed uproariously.

Kyle sighed happily. “I just eat, and drink, and fight forever. This is sort of like Viking Heaven.”

“Valhalla?” James asked.

“Who?”

“That’s Viking Heaven,” James clarified. “It’s called Valhalla.”

Kyle snorted out a laugh: “I didn’t do so well in history.”

“That would have been mythology.”

“I didn’t do that well in college, in general!” They shared a laugh.

James looked past the park’s walls, to the impressive skyline beyond. “So how did you get here?”

Kyle let out a loud burp. “I don’t really know.”

“Come again?”

Kyle pinched his brow. “So, one night, after some heavy drinking, I woke up on the floor of a sorority house. Some smart-asses had given me a makeover while I was passed out, complete with costume jewelry. I was too hung over to figure out something was different, but it eventually dawned on me. Later, as I removed all the jewelry, one of them brought me back to the first world.”

“Wow.” James paused to let that sink in. “You’d think they’d want their ring back.”

“No one ever owned up to doing that to me,” Kyle shrugged. “So I figured I’d earned it. It was pretty much the only thing I got out of college.”

“You didn’t graduate?” James asked.

Kyle winced. “I was there on an athletic scholarship. One nasty injury later, they kick me out, just like that. No degree, no prospects, no apology, nothing.”

James’ face fell. “That’s brutal.”

Kyle snickered. “Hey, it let me find this place! I’ve been here ever since!”

“So, you never return to the first world, then?”

Kyle laughed. “Why would I? I have nothing there. I have everything here.” He looked James in the eye. “And after all this time, I’m a little afraid of what I would find there. What condition my first body is in. I’d rather just stay here.”

This certainly is a fine lifestyle,” James agreed, “but I’m not ready to settle down and make it permanent.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle laughed. “You’re always welcome to join me here in the park!” James finished his beer; Kyle handed him another one.

“I really shouldn’t,” James responded. “I’m already unsafe to drive.”

“Nonsense,” Kyle clarified. “That doesn’t seem to be a crime here. Just don’t run into anyone…at least, any more than usual.” They shared a laugh.

James stood up. “I think I’ll try that out! Any more advice for me?”

“Just one.” Kyle tried to look serious, but a giggle erupted. “Ah, hell, I can’t even keep a straight face.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I just want to remind you, drinking and driving don’t mix. Instead, get all your drinking out of the way…and then go driving!”

James laughed loudly, then pounded the rest of his beer. He looked at the empty bottles around him. “I really should clean these up.”

“Don’t bother,” revealed Kyle. “As soon as we both leave, the mess will take care of itself.”

James smiled. “Yeah, I noticed that earlier at a restaurant.”

Kyle opened his arms wide. “This whole world works like that.”

“In that case,” James gushed, dropping his empty bottle on the ground, “here’s to Heaven!”

Kyle followed suit. “Heaven!”

“Catch you later, man,” James saluted.

“Come back anytime,” Kyle assured.

James stumbled out of the park, humming a happy tune to himself. There was no sign of the earlier chaos; people milled about, minding their own business. His destroyed car was nowhere to be seen; even the chalk outlines had vanished. There was only one reminder left; James squinted at it as he approached. Parked near the side of the road, several feet past the curb, was a police squad car, door open, engine still running.

He approached it slowly; no one paid any attention to him. He got in, sat down, and closed the door; the siren immediately started wailing. Punching at buttons on the dashboard, it finally went quiet. Wild-eyed, he glanced around frantically; still, no one paid him any mind. Smirking, he drove away carefully, trying not to make a scene, and headed toward his uncle’s marina house, the one with an empty spot in the garage where a luxury car used to be.

He beamed with satisfaction as the garage door closed in front of him, safely containing his first stolen law-enforcement vehicle. Alan would have been so proud of him! James wondered how many other small ways there were in this world to show progress. The most obvious one, of course, was money, and he now had a pretty good idea how to make a lot of it, and quickly.

He left the marina on foot, quickly reaching the main boulevard. He scanned up and down the street for his target, but there were no taxis to be seen. Shrugging, he moved deeper into the city; before long, he had several choices. James loitered at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn red, then for his quarry to come to rest in front, with no cars blocking his escape route.

Finally, his prey revealed itself–a taxi with no passengers. Taking a deep breath and exhaling rapidly, he jogged to the passenger door, opened it, and slid across to the driver’s side. The shocked driver opened his door and got out, making room. Laughing, James hit the gas pedal; the taxi shot into the intersection, causing three other drivers to slam on their brakes. Smiling, he realized he finally felt like a native.

Now, how to start the taxi mission? An instant later, his field of view contained two new readouts–the number of fares completed, a timer, and a tip bar. James frowned as he looked for a fare; he expected some sort of colored arrow to indicate one. He was also confused by the timer; it had only twenty seconds to go, and no apparent destination. And why was his tip bar so low?

Suddenly, the answers to all these questions hit him, literally. A small snarl arose from the back seat; before he could react to it, he felt himself slammed by something heavy. His unseen assailant wrapped his arms around him and blocked his view, claws digging into his face. Claws? An instant later, he felt fangs sink into his skull.

Crying in pain, James tried to fight back. The car skidded out of control and veered off the road, running over a handful of pedestrians and scraping at least other two cars before coming to rest in a grocery store’s parking lot. He continued to grapple with his assailant, finally dislodging the claws. With a yank, he detached the fangs, ripping open a bleeding wound as he did. Screaming, he flung the bushwhacker against the passenger door, where it impacted with a loud thud.

He was stunned to find himself staring at a white, fluffy Persian cat with steely green eyes and a jeweled collar. The cat glared at him, incensed. “Ow!” it yelled. “That hurt, you asshole!” James gawked; did he really just hear that?

The cat launched himself at James again. Reacting quickly, he threw his hand forward, grabbing the cat’s neck in mid-jump. The cat tried to claw him again, but James squeezed his neck; a few seconds later, he went limp, staring hatefully at his captor.

He wasn’t sure for how long they locked eyes, but James finally managed to respond. “You…you can talk?!”