Commencement de la fin (I)
Episode: B11	By: darkslider	Date: 1/24/02	URL: 545/27350
Ni How. I know...I know. It's been a while. But, honestly, what the hell can I say at this time of relebe? Actually quite a great deal..but I shall refrain for now. Instead just read the first chapter of the last in the BBSA series...that's right. The END of the BBSA series. Did I get permission to do this? Did I take a damn number, or put my name on this list? Nope. Did I, at the very least, get permission from Nuby to end a beloved series here? Did I not obey the code of ethics demanded in authors as to ASK for input or even his blessing...or anyone elses? Nope. Imagine my gaul. I have done my best to make alterations to the characters to restore them to their original state when Nubyuki started...and yet a bit different from the people we know. Not a WHOLE LOT, mind you...but enough. But, in lieu of the current state of this place, and it's...ahem..."content", I think it's safe to say that I am not doing anything too harmful to the sanctitity of ANYTHING here. And honestly, I grow tired of many things here, and wish to leave soon. And with that I am taking some things with me, like that odd person at parties who no one invited, and who takes all he can before he leaves. Let this is the first ripple created by the last pebble I drop here. -darkslider I write this to you, my reader as a warning. Call it a verbal flashing of my lights to notify you of the police car that is waiting for you to speed around the bend I have just passed, in the hopes of catching your dumb ass speeding. Since it is such a warning, you can do one of the three things that are possible in said scenario. One, you can heed my warning and take the necessary precautions before you reach the cop thus saving yourself the pain of being pulled over and shelling out the money for the ticket, OR you can ignore me, and drive on. The third option of flipping me off and chasing me down to kill me in some sort of gang ritual is not open to you. Why? Because I am dead. That’s right, my little children. I, Brand_S, am post mortise as you read my words. My warning to you came at the cost of my SEX FILLED and highly STUDLY LIFE (Edit Note: This work is, indeed, a NON-Fiction..) How is this so? Well, to tell you would take a period of explanation and the use of many terms that are irrelevant to you, and would make one helluva boring book. And, since most of this America has the attention span of a goldfish, I’ll attempt to explain it in a manner that will explain and keep your Gallagher watching asses interested. It all begins with “Sliding”. Such a funny term. A term that suggests good times. A quick, short, exhilarating trip from point A to B. (Unless you are sliderseth, in which sliding takes on a whole other term. One that describes one of the pitfalls of failing to successfully complete one of the final steps in the adventures in “Potty Time”. A step that when missed, leaves marks and does not allow you to sit in a chair without slipping out.) I digress. The medication is taking it’s toll. I feel like I am 900, and my mind is slowly eroding...speaking of that, is Matlock showing on in this world? The idea of “Sliding” is based upon a series started by Fox, in the year 19--, and explored the idea of going to other, alternate “Earths”, via a modified television remote control. A small band of people (called, creatively enough "Sliders”.) go through these parallel worlds in an effort first to explore, then find a way home, and then...hell, the show took so many turns that I forget what the hell they were looking for by the end. But, either way, this show fascinated me, solely on the concept. Going to other Earths. Exploring them with a small group of friends, and have a bunch of adventures that I could write about and maybe get published. Not because I am a writer, mind you (as evident by this book so far) but as a way to show the world I came from that it was too narrow minded, and destined for failure if it did not open up. Sadly, my world will never see this work, and I will never see my world again. Which, in lieu of all the idiots it has sired, may not be such a bad thing after all. Anyway, the television show spawned a following of people that met together on something called an Internet. (I’d explain that, but this is neither the place nor the time, as I am dying, and it does not further my tale in any way....DAMMIT! Why don’t you people INVENT some things? Shit!) This Internet had a site that contained a place for fans of the show, known as the Bboard, it was a forum for ideas, discussion, and battles of ideas. Kind of like you annual Fairs to show off your prized pig, newest crop transdidilator, or marry off one of your horrid offspring in a rally. On the Bboard where a great number of people, but two in particular are important. TemporalFlux, the inventor of sliding, and HunterD_Raven, one of my good friends. Why are both important? Well, TemporalFlux (Tf as I called him) wanted Hunter and I to test his equipment out with him, explore the new world, and be back after just a quick slide. If I had not been drunk on 5 different alcoholic beverages at the time and engrossed in Jessica Alba porn, I would have been able to see the irony of the situation and the foreshadowing. I’d explain it, but I am too damn tired of explaining shit to you idiots in this world. Shit, I’m surprised half of you idiots can read, let alone understand things such as irony or the foretelling of events in obscure passages of a tale. Anyway, the slide went as well as your cotton gin did, and ended in total failure. Due to an event in one of the slides, we were forced to slide at random. Lost, as the Sliders on the show were, and just as screwed in our attempts at getting home. Again, not that our world was that wonderful. There’s a ton of much better places out there. Places that make our ideas of heaven look like a child’s drawing of happiness. Yet, for all of those worlds that were perfect, my homesick and short-sighted companions sought to fill their wanderlust and lemming-esque desire to find ‘home’. Idiots. If Hunter and Tf had listened to me, we’d all be at Hefner Earth, where Playboy invented genetic engineering, and every woman on the planet now looked like Playmates and the men there were all THREE FEET TALL. But no. They had to get home...to a world where we were born, a world where we “belonged.” Pfffffffff... At any rate, we slid from Heaven, and ended up on yet ANOTHER war torn America. I thought that the Sci-Fi Channel was just completely UN-CREATIVE, but it really does appear that America is the joke of the multi-verse, and the few Americas that survived every catastrophe known to man are at best, shitty. The story and the reason I now have to reside in Banjo-World where I face my death, begins with the world that looked like every other one in the multiverse, but was just a tad bit off. This world was different though. For one reason. This world was grey. Not in the figurative sense of the word. This world was the color gray. Period. All things looked like those stupid little cutesy kid cards where some monkey puts over-sized clothes on them and they act like adults in the picture, with mostly grays and maybe one thing in color. You have them here. They are the ones with the little boy and the rose (which is the only thing colored), kissing some little girl. It’s the modern velvet Elvis to obese women in beehives everywhere. You know, I am convinced that those cards and Anne Geddes are universal evils that humanity must face in all multi-verses, as EVERY SINGLE WORLD I have been to has them. Even Heaven. Which, coincidentally is why I am convinced that there is no God. NO GOD WOULD have them in EVERY single world. No God that I can think of, unless God is Loki, the Celt God of Mischief. Whatever. The world was like those cards. With a select few things in color, and mostly gray. Not only that, but other things seemed to be twisted as well...like most of your “daughters” here. Most of the trees were either deformed or extremely small, and there were buildings everywhere. Buildings that, in my world, would have been considered back drops to some 70’s detective show. Namely, square, bleak...and having few windows. TemporalFlux, looked around and did what he always did upon entering a new world. He announced the time left. “Three days.” Great. Three days in Stupid French Card Picture world. Imagine our joy. Hunter suggested laying low and just sleeping until the next world. Tf wanted to explore and figure out what the hell was going on here. I wanted another day in Hef world. I should have agreed with Hunter. If I had, maybe they’d be alive right now, and that world would still exist. But, something called out to me in the city ahead. Which, for those of you who need things spelled out, because you CANNOT FOLLOW ALONG VERY WELL, would make that Mistake One of the day. With the vote two to one, we began to walk. And that’s when the bickering started. “I don’t want to go. I want to sleep. WHY IS THAT SO HARD FOR YOU TWO TO UNDERSTAND?!” Hunter complained. For some reason, since we left the story world, Hunter had made it a point to hone the skill of ticking Tf off to a new level. Now, rather than sit idle and listen to ANOTHER three hours of useless arguing, I interjected. “Because we need to go as a team. We need to stick together, in case of an emergency. Remember what happened in Village People World when Tf announced his love of Streisand?” I asked, visions of the waves of mustaches and chaps flooding my mind. “I said I like ONE SONG! Does that make me gay?!” Tf asked. “Yes!” Hunter and I responded in unison. “It’s not like I announced how quaint the drapes were, and KISS MY ASS, Hunter likes watching sweaty men grope each other!” Tf yelled, pointing at Hunter. “Ugh. AGAIN with the same damn joke. Every-Friggin-TIME. It’s wrestling. I like WRESTLING. It’s a national pastime and you KNOW IT.” Hunter yelled. There comes a point in every person's life where even the greatest friends become the most irritating people on the planet. We were at such a juncture now. It had been over a year of Sliding, and not only had we not found our way home bur we also had not gotten ONE DAMN BREAK from one another. It was waay too long. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends...but Jesus. OLD COUPLES argue less frequently, and with less rambling or regularity. It was the same damn argument. Again and again. Tf would attack Hunter out of the blue for everything from the way he put toilet paper onto the roll in the bathroom, to how much Hunter mooched at dinner. Hunter would bitch and moan. Over and over. Always wanting sleep. Who the hell is that tired? OLD PEOPLE needed less sleep than Hunter. Tf and I secretly suspected that he had to have contracted MONO somewhere, as that was the only way he could be so damn exhausted all the time. How wrong we were. Now, don't get me wrong. I am no damn peach. I too am an ass. We ALL are. We have stupid and disgusting quirks that irritate everyone but us, and usually is the one reason why most men of my world will never date a supermodel. After all, at the end of the day, no matter how good looking you are, doing something stupid like sticking you hand down your pants or watching Canadian melodrama makes you ugly real quick. My biggest vice was a short temper. And, being that I was the mediator 9 out of the 10 times fights broke out, it became alarmingly difficult to stay calm, with the difficulty increasing daily. I couldn't take much of anything at that point...and made it known in the subtlest way possible. “Please, I’m BEGGING you...both of you...SHUT UP!” I yelled. My sudden burst of anger took both of them back, and silenced them. Good for me, bad for any future other than one filled with six feet of dirt on top of us all. We entered the city limits silently. Which was, even though not under our control, Mistake Two. We looked around to find that city devoid of life. Not that there were NO people, mind you, it was just that ALL were in the buildings...working? From our position below, we could see them in the cubes, toiling away. Slack jawed and blankly staring ahead. It looked like a screening of one of those 'artsy' foreign films about lesbians and balsa wood...that somehow was a huge metaphor for the patriarchial something or other that was controling all things. With all of those people, you'd think there'd be some kind of bustle outside. But...NO ONE was on the street. No little women running over people in their SUV’s while yapping on the phone about how smart their little Jimmy was...while little Jimmy drooled all over the leather seats, no one selling watches that had Calvin peeing on La Migra, the Raiders, America, or whatever else Calvin chose to urinate on that day in the “clever” way of showing disdain. This place outside of the buildings was as devoid of life as you are of a healthy gene pool. We walked further...until Tf stopped, slapped Hunter’s arm and pointed. “Look...two people...and they appear to be...fighting!” “Look man, it’s called WRESTLING, and I TOLD YOU, that joke is not funny” Hunter retorted. “No, you sweaty man-lover, look!” We did, and walked closer to the event. And I wish we had not. Mistake Three. As we approached, we began to notice something else odd about this place. There was no wind. No smell. This place was as flat as Mulan. Oh! And for fashion, people wore plastic grocery bags, as apparent by the Vogue magazine with Rebecca Gayheart proudly displaying an Albertson’s bag on her head. Apparently, she did not chose to run over a kids in this world, and had instead focused her attention on...plastic. I laughed in spite of myself. She HAD to know how stupid that fad was. HAD TO. Then, I remembered her role in Sliders...and realized I could not be more wrong. It was then that I looked up and saw another oddity that only this world possessed. I saw who the two men were. Their fight in the center of a street that was in serious ruin now in full swing. One man had a little girl in his arms, in a seemingly protective stance. The little girl was obviously scared but did not cry. She merely stared at the second man with the biggest eyes I have ever seen. The other man swung at the first with some sort of butcher knife/sword on crack, seemingly unaware of the girl. Which leads to the oddity. We’d seen some people act cowardly in our travels. Hell in France World, EVERYONE acted that way. But, see, there’s some universals that have occurred in my travels. One, certain character traits seem to follow people. By that I mean that if someone’s a jackass in one world, chances are, he’s gonna be one in the next. Which explains why Exec never seemed to be in charge on any world they had ever been to. Which leads to the problem. darkslider had been many things. But a child murderer was NOT his style. Granted, he died before I got to know him too well outside of War, but it was not in his general character. And he and Spacetime...fighting? That was one for the books. I had been to 100 different worlds...and never...EVER had I seen such a thing. darkslider swung at Space again, and came within an inch of slicing the girl Space seemed to be trying to protect. Space swung the girl away from dark, and swept his foot out as he did. Dark jumped over it, Kung Fu like. As he did, he raised his blade high over his head and in one swift motion, brought it down. In hopes, it seemed, to let gravity to the work for him. But too fast, it seemed. His feet landed just as the hilt of his blade hit SpaceTime on the head. Spacetime dropped like a lawn chair under the weight of a white trash honey who was 100 lbs past her prime and one Monster Truck Rally away from death. However, as he went down, he did more damage to the little girl than darkslider could have ever done. In his feeble minded effort to protect the girl he had positioned her to take the brunt of the fall. She hit the ground and let out a cry as Space followed her to the floor. He bounced once, using the girl as a cushion. Dark was on Space before he could bounce again. He raised his blade and meant to stab Space, but surely would have gone through him and into the girl, due to the intensity of the blow. “He’s gonna skewer the girl” I muttered, looking over at my companions. It was at this moment that I noticed that TemporalFlux was gone... I looked back to the action and found him. He connected with the unsuspecting darkslider in the manner of a Wal-Mart shopper in an attempt to get the last cooler with the “Rock” sketched on it. dark and Tf flew off Space and onto the pavement nearby, skidding to a halt in a pile of HugKok albums. SpaceTime leapt up and began to run, with the little girl in his arms. It was then that I saw her fashion reflected this world’s and that she had chosen now to cry. Not that I blamed her. Seeing someone try and kill you was one thing, but add that to the attire? Meanwhile, Tf had proceeded to work out the frustration of a year's of sliding onto darkslider. He began to yell the lyrics of the already unmentionable Streisand song. He should have taken a few minutes to survey the situation, and less time on remembering accurately the second verse of his song. This darkslider did not look like the one from our world. This one looked mean. He proved it by raising his knee into Tf’s lovebutton with a force that ended in a “CRACK”. Tf hit a note that was as close to Streisand as a man can ever get and fell over, in a fetal position. Hunter, meanwhile, had seen the situation and wanted to get a chance to thank dark personally for the flame war he’d started with Hunter a few years back. He ran over to darkslider just in time to connect with the fleeing SpaceTime, causing both to stumble. Under the combination of the extra weight of the little girl and his still dazed state after being hit on the head, Space fell to his knees. The other party in this little accident fared much better. Spinning like a football player avoiding a tackle, he turned and staggered a bit, but reached his destination just as dark leapt up and landed one parting kick into Tf. I know you’re wondering. Why didn’t I go to help? I’ll tell you. Because I am a goddamn genius. Darkslider had made Tf’s crotch CRACK. Now, I can tell you that if you took a professional punter for any football or soccer team, and have them kick you in the crotch as hard as they can, and you still will not receive that God awful CRACK that I heard that day. A CRACK that Hunter was soon to have as well. Hunter liked to brag about fighting. He’d say that he was the King of Flame-Rants and puff like a rooster after the fourth of the glass of Ethiopian Beer he’d had. He’d go on to say that there was not a person alive who could best him in battle. Since the darkslider of our world was dead by this point, Spacetime was off the board, and I had sworn off battles since dark’s death, he was most definitely right. But now, one of the Three was alive, and on a mission. And Hunter was in his way. Hunter swung clumsily at darkslider with all of his might, hoping to give darkslider a “hay-maker”. Sadly, as I already knew, Hunter’s skills in battle were as not honed as they once were (one of the many REAL casualties of Sliding) and he over calculated the distance between himself and dark. He followed the path his fist’s journey had begun and began to fall over after missing darkslider by a mile. On his way down, the quick footed darkslider stepped into his fall, raised his knee with stunning speed, and at the same time flicked his blade past Hunter. The illusion it created was laughable. The CRACK that darkslider made when connecting with Hunter’s crotch came about the same time he flicked his wrist and released the blade from his hand. Hunter went down, just as Tf had. His ego and crotch equally shattered. Spacetime had taken this opportunity to steady himself and get up running. The little girl yelped and cried out as he did. He took off like a rocket, and got three steps before a glimmer connected with the point where his arm and shoulder met. Now, I am not a doctor, but I can tell you two things if you ever attempt to do that on someone. One, it’s gonna sever something there, and they will lose the ability to hold onto anything they have (permanently, more than likely), causing them two drop it. And two, it’s gonna hurt like a mother. It was Spacetime’s turn to yelp. He struggled to hold on to the girl with his remaining hand as she grasped for his back for support and found darkslider’s blade. She grabbed it, and yanked, cutting Space more, and setting an action into motion. Unable to endear the pain, and hold the girl with one arm, Space dropped his cargo without so much as a glance as she landed on the ground-hard- with a thud. She bounced twice, plastic bag that covered her tearing each time. Space disappeared into a nearby alley as she hit the ground the second time, still holding onto dark’s blade that she had held onto as she had fallen. Some say that we often forget the shortcomings of our friends as we walk with them through life. These flaws recede over time, like our hairlines and we see the real person. I say that’s horeshit. Tf was a boob at times. I loved the guy, but he had moments were he could make a glass of water seem more intelligent. STILL CLUTCHING his crotch, Tf rose and called to darkslider, who was already walking toward the shivering little girl with her huge blue eyes swimming in tears. “Listen, you want to get to her, and you have to go through me.” Dark continued walking without giving him a second glance. Tf, in turn fell over...unconscious. The pain of getting your crotch CRACKED was obviously too much for him. As he walked, Hunter jumped in front of him, following Tf's suit. "You heard him...you leave her alone." darkslider looked Hunter up and down, and kept walking brushing by Hunter as if he were a pillar. Six feet away now. The girl seemed not to notice death walking her way. Luckily, Hunter would not be dissuaded so easily. Say what you will about Hunter, but let it never be said that Hunter did not possess balls the size of elephants. Hunter walked in between dark and the girl again. This time getting two inches within dark's face. “Don’t make me say it twice, because I WILL make the 24 inch pythons run WILD on you, bruther!!” Hunter yelled, quoting an old dinosaur of a wrestler. darkslider looked mildly interested in this. But, that was all. Bringing his foot forward, darkslider made a motion as if he were going to castrate Hunter with his shoe. Hunter, in turn went to block and was greeted with a fist to the face. The crack that ensued assured me that some dentist was about to become very wealthy, I assure you. Hunter followed the aforementioned wrestler’s career and hit the ground—out cold. Now, it need be said. Hunter WAS a good fighter. He truly was. Tf...well, tf couldn't beat a four month old in an arm wrestling competition. But, all in all neither of my compatriots stood a chance. Why? This darkslider was fast. Too fast. He was like Bruce Lee on speed when it came to hand to hand combat. It just wasn't right. Humans are not that fast...even at the best of times. Something was off, to say the least. I needed to know what. Dark was nearly at the little girl. Who, just happened to be about two feet behind me. At this point, pain in the “Hey-nans” or no, I decided that Hunter was right. I could not allow dark to kill this little girl with the big eyes. I stepped between him and the girl, and decided to speak to him first. THEN, if need be, kick his head in. “Look, darkslider, I do not know what this girl did, but is cutting her head off really the answer?” I asked, holding my arms out, in a protective stance. He walked toward me and stopped. The mild interest dropped from his face. Shit.
Commencement de la fin (II)
Episode: B11	By: darkslider	Date: 1/31/02	URL: 545/27402
Dark was nearly at the little girl. Who, just happened to be about two feet behind me. At this point, pain in the “Hey-nans” or no, I decided that Hunter was right. I could not allow dark to kill this little girl with the big eyes. I stepped between him and the girl, and decided to speak to him first. THEN, if need be, kick his head in. “Look, darkslider, I do not know what this girl did, but is cutting her head off really the answer?” I asked, holding my arms out, in a protective stance. He walked toward me and stopped. The mild interest dropped from his face. Shit. I nearly crapped my pants. This dark seemed taller than the one I knew. And a lot more...mean? I was preparing to whip him when the girl yelled behind me. “Aide, Poppa! Je suis effraye, Poppa!” “What the---“ I asked as she ran past me, nearly taking my knee out with the blade she dragged with her. She ran to darkslider and wrapped her little arms around him as he knelt to greet her. He took his long black jacket off and wrapped it around her vampirically white shoulders and rubbed the sides, to warm her up. “Etes-vous bien, bebe?” “Oui, Poppa.” She replied, putting on the jacket, and whipping her eyes with the sleeves. The whole while, she never let go of that damn sword either. Darkslider and the little vampire turned simultaneously toward me. It was then that I saw that they had the same look in their eyes. If they weren’t father and daughter, then Executive was Tf’s mother. “Brand-eh_S-ah!!!” The little girl yelled, and proceeded to hike up her plastic pants and do a jig. She then saluted me with a gesture that I had used many times on some idiots back in Italy when dark, Space and I were stationed there during Nam. “What the...?” I began. I wanted to belt this midget Vampira one, on sheer principle, but I remembered the Look from her father. The one that screamed as loud as the ‘CRACK”s that had leveled my two sliding partners. And what was the deal with...what was that...French?! I needed answers. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. TemporalFlux, got up from his position of being curled in a fetal position, walked directly over to darkslider’s right ear and asked at the top of his lungs: “DO. YOU. SPEAK. INGA-GLISH? Because when I feel BET-HER, I AM GOING TO BE kicking you into the next Bastille Day...” Why the hell is it that whenever it appears that someone cannot speak English, or any other language for that matter...people yell at decibels that shatter windows? Darkslider turned his head to look into Tf’s eyes. Tf, unflinching yelled “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” “Is talking that loud going to make him understand any better?” Hunter asked my question aloud, still on the floor. “Are you trying to penetrate the LANGUAGE BARRIER WITH SOUND THAT EVEN DEAD ESKIMOS CAN HEAR?!” darkslider looked over at Hunter and laughed. An eerie sound coming from him. It sounded like a song that rustling leaves in autumn make...or wind through the reeds in a cemetery. As he laughed, picked Vamprina, and put her on his shoulders. She looked over at Hunter for a moment...and smiled. Darkslider’s jacket, when she was place on his shoulders draped behind him like a cape. He began to walk without a second glance around at us...heading in the direction we came from, brushing past me and nearly knocking me over in the process. Ass. I needed to stop him. I needed ANSWERS, much as many of you out there need dental dams. “Heh-HEY! You can’t just leave! What the hell is going on here? Help us a little would you? You see where from out of—“ I began to gush like a little girl, plying for affection from the new male teacher she had a crush on. It worked though. Darkslider stopped and looked up at the little girl. She shrugged. Looks like I knew who was calling the shots. Darkslider turned and pointed to a nearby building. “That building is not being used. It will provide adequate shelter. You have three days here until your portal opens, I suggest you keep the hell out of the way. Stay there until your time to leave is upon you.” Thanks. There’s a new revelation. LAY LOW BEFORE SLIDING. Another GENIUS. And how the HELL did he know we were Sliders, let alone the timeframe we were on? I skipped over those questions for a more pressing one. “Look, Gabby, we’re LOST. We can’t get home! We’ve traveled for a year looking for home. Do you know how to get us home???” “Yes.” He said, turning and continuing his journey. Vampirina however, swiveled to look at us. “Well...WILL you help us get home???” “No.” he responded. Of course not. He was too busy playing Mr. Green Jeans and molesting young girls to help us. He and the little girl left as suddenly as they appeared without another word. English or French. We were alone again. Just the three of us. Like it had been for the past year or so. Hunter, by this time rose from his place on the floor and was dusting himself off. “What the hell was that all about?!” “I have no idea...” I said, barely above a whisper. “How the hell did he know that we were sliders AND how long we have here?” “Dude, I have been watching the SAME SITUATION you have...what NEW information would I POSSIBLY have that YOU WOULD NOT?!” Hunter flinched as if he suffered another blow to the crotch. “Jeez...SOMEONE’S touchy.” “Enough. Let’s go.” Temporalflux interjected. We looked at each other and shrugged. We headed toward the building that darkslider had pointed at. That night was actually, very non-descript. Which was because we were used to this. We had the same routine no matter what world, or whatever darkslider or anyone else told us. We did what we always did in danger. Hide like school girls. I found some ice for the bruised hey-nans of my compatriots, who, even though they had just walked close to three blocks without so much a peep now seemed to damn wounded to walk DOWN THE HALL and get some ice. We sat, watching the sun colorlessly die in a world full of more questions than your DNA has mistakes. After dusk TemporalFlux and I began a game we had picked up from Ash and Professor Arturo on an odd world that defies description on the sheer base that I STILL have no idea what the hell happened. The game is as thus. How many of you know what the game ‘Memory’ is? Ugh. Wait...I just remembered where the HELL I AM. Most of you here have the mental capacity of a goldfish with Alzheimer’s thanks to that experimental virus gone awry. Memory is a game that has a series of cards that have random pictures on them. The series of cards are placed faced down in a random order. The pictures come in pairs, so the object is to find the match of each picture with the least amount of error as possible, and defeat your opponent. You have one try to find the card’s duplicate. If the cards you have chosen do not match, then your opponent gets a turn...and so forth. The idea is to REMEMBER where the pictures are located, and thus over time make matches not by luck, but through skill. Here’s the catch. Our set does not use random pictures. Ours uses images of the past that we placed on them. Memories of slides, people, and our home. The other difference is that the winner doesn’t just get the proverbial pat on the back, but he receives a memory from his opponent so that it becomes his. Example. Say you and Horris are playing. He had this sheep that made your head spin...and one night he had a little too much moonshine and he had a fling with her. If you were to win, you choose to keep that memory and YOU take his place in that event. It’s so complete that over time even YOU forget who actually did it...and since he LOSES that memory...well, as disgusting as that is...it WAS you. Anyway, Tf and I were playing as usual (Hunter was not good at this game at ALL for some reason...he could never remember ANY of the events or pictures of our home/other worlds we’d been to), and Hunter was strumming an old acoustic guitar on the sill of an open window. Another odd thing. Hunter never played the guitar...and for my memory he never LEARNED to play the guitar on our world or any other we’d been to. I’d asked him about it, but all he would say is “I AM NOT YOUR HUNTER.” Pff...whatever. Of course not. I don’t go in for that AC/DC stuff. I am purely HETERO. At any rate, Tf and I were chatting and we came across a picture of a wormhole. Not anything new, but it struck me deep as I had been rolling something over in my mind for a few days. I’d been thinking a lot about ‘Quantum Leap’ those past few days...I, to this day, have no idea why. Maybe it was Fate. Or maybe it was because it was the only decent show on the past three worlds we’d been on. I brought it up to them as we hid, and pondered aloud at the last episode “Mirror Image” s meaning. Sam was controlling his destiny it was said, which caused him to never get home. If that’s the case...were we not doing the same thing? “We all travel down a path to our ultimate destiny” Hunter said, taking a break from Stairway to Heaven and slowly sipping the tea. “BULLSHIT! We make our own choices, and decide from there...” TemporalFlux yelled while flipping over two Quinns and slamming them onto the table with the force of a ten ton anvil. “CHOKE ON THAT YOU EMPTY HEADED APE!! HAHAHAHAA!” We both turned to look at him. TemporalFlux loved to play this game like a rap star loves to play dominoes. He’d turn from a mild mannered intellectual to Suge Night every time he scored something. We’d gone through at least TEN tables since we first started playing this game. “Easy, homes..” Hunter said, “No one’s trying to play you like dat or show you up like you a busta.” “True, true....” He responded. “BUT YOU BEST WATCH YOU CRACKA ASS MOUF, UNLESS YOU LIKE TO GET DEALT WIT.” I shook my head and turned to the cards. Games and competitions do weird shit to people. “What if they are one in the same” I asked after hitting two Stoker_Chicks. They both pondered this. Shutting them up from another argument was one of the few things that had brought me joy. So, I continued. “What if the path leads us to this Ultimate Point where we are given the choice. And we, being aware of all things choose the predestined path of our own accord? Take Quantum Leap.” They looked at me as if I was on drugs. “Seriously,” I countered. “At the end of it all, Sam decides to erase his best chance at getting home by helping Al. He erases him from his timeline through the marriage that he inadvertently helped make. Maybe Al was the sole reason for his Leaping, and he CHOSE to do help him and accept his own fate.” “But WHO decided that? Sam...or God?” Temporalflux asked, missing another match, and taking a consolatory swig from his Gin and Juice. “Suckas” he muttered. “God?!” I asked, flipping another card over. Another match. That night with Sabrina Lloyd would soon be MINE. “You think God has something to do with that?” “Most definitely...as well as a place in our sliding.” He retorted, flipping another card. Shit. Twelve matches. I was about to lose a memory. Goodbye Hef world’s adventure that contained the Twins and a very large bear skin rug. “So...then do you think that God has control of our slides? Doesn’t he get negated when we enter another reality? I mean, wouldn’t there be an alternate God for that world who’d be pissed that our God was taking his thunder?” “What is God?” He asked, “Is he not the omnipresent and omnipotent? What other way to be those things than to have all possibilities running at once. Every possible outcome. Every possible person at every possible avenue?” “God? Sounds more like a damn computer. What is God, anyway then, a simple peeping Tom and number cruncher from afar?” Hunter, playing some unnamable John Lennon song spoke without looking back at us from the window. What he said was something that chilled me to the bone. I had no idea why...it’s not like I have ever been freaked by Hunter, but this time...it was his voice, but not my friend’s mind behind it. “God is a concept By which we measure Our pain.” “Huh?!” Both Tf and I asked at once. Had Hunter been kicked too damn hard in the crotch? What the hell did that MEAN?! ”...I'll say it again... God is a concept By which we measure Our pain” “What the hell?” I asked, “Hunter what the f---“ A sharp knock ended my sailor tongued cross examination of a long dead Beatle’s song’s place in a talk about Quantum Leap and the nature of sliding. We looked at one another like deer in the headlights. Who the hell knew that we were here? We soon found out because our guest had the manners of a FRENCHMAN. Our card game, and my chance at having lovely monkeylove with Sabrina Lloyd lost with thanks to a flamboyant intruder. He waltzed in with a companion who remained closer to the door...and deeper into the shadows than we would have liked. ‘Alo’. The first guest announced, looking around at each of us in turn. “My name is ---“ “Blinker!” Temporalflux blurbed out, “Dude, it’s been too long! We were just—“ Blinker raised his hand to silence Tf. He pointed his index finger skyward in a ‘tut tut’ manner and said “Non...not Blink-ERRR! Blin-queur.” “Uh hunh...and what’s the difference?” I asked, forgetting all about the other world’s code. EVEN IF SOMETHING MAKES ZERO SENSE, YOU ASK NO QUESTIONS. He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Mon Dieu, Etes Unix Chiens...do you drink ze liqueur...do you not have ze cognac in your wurldah?” “Uhhhhh...yeah.” “Eet is juis as that. Listen, I do not have time to explain all of ze things that matteur. You are jus going to have to trust, eh...me.” “Why?” Hunter asked. Rightfully so. Instead of answering, our guest pulled six very small balls from his pocket and displayed them to us, arm outstretched and palm upward. “Zese are translators...” he began “Put zem on PLEEEZ. I do not have time four zis nonsense.” Tf looked at me. I looked at Hunter. He, looked right at Blink---er Blinqueur. “Look, Zima, we’re not putting on anything. We’ve traveled too long and gone to too many places to have the naiveté that you seem used to. We know that most times, when someone wants us to do something we should do the OPPOSITE.” Hunter answered. “Yeah.” I agreed. “He’s got you there.” Tf added. “Ugh. My ING-LISH is...not eh so goot. I only speak little of it.” He said, “Zees translate my wordz. Zey do NUT-ING more. NOW PLEEZ. I LOOSE PATIENCE AND WE HAVE AN URGENT INCIDENT TO DISCUSS.” “What is your native language?” Tf asked. “I spek French, of course! why else would I have this OUTRAY-GEOUS accent and silly att-HIRE.” Blink responded motioning his free hand over the clothing he was wearing. It was resembled the retro-sixties British Pop attire, with the exception of the Capri style pants with knee high white stockings. “All the more reason NOT TO TRUST YOU” Hunter answered. “NON zense, ze Franch are ze most trust worthee peoples in the known Uny-verzes.” He retorted. “Now, I repet myself. Put zese on so that we may zpeak.” He accentuated his point by moving the hand holding them up and down. I crossed my arms. Tf sat down. Hunter began to look out the window again and began to play the guitar. “UGH! Grab...” he pointed to me. “Zat one and hold him down!” The shadow friend of the French atrocity known as Blinker was on me before I knew what the hell was going on...something that resembled a gun was at my temple and an arm that was too close to my ass wrapped around my waist. The smell of Brute emanating from him Temporalflux and Hunter leapt up, lunging for Blink, but he stopped them with his signature ‘tut – tut’. “One more move and he diez.” He said, and to his compatriot he tossed a set of the orbs and said “Mettez ceci dans son oreille!” I struggled, but it was no good. This guy was too strong. Soon enough the little ball bearings were in my ear and I was docile again. The stranger behind me let me go. I went to pull them out when Blinqueur spoke. “No! Don’t take them out. You can tell your friends that I am telling the truth.” Perfect English. No accent, albeit he had a more nasally version of my native tongue. “I’m not telling them shit, you Frog’s Leg eating--" My words trailed off as I looked to Tf and Hunter. They in turned looked at me like I had herpies and had just made a pass at them. It’s the same look I get whenever I go outside around here for some reason too. “What?” I asked, brushing my nose. “You UNDERSTOOD HIM?” Temporalflux asked mouth agape. “Uh...Yeah...didn’t you?” The looks were enough, but the head shaking that followed confirmed it. A minute later, rather reluctantly, my friends too had the little ball bearings in their ears. MISTAKE FOUR. We learned a great many things then, for this Blinker could talk faster than an auction dealer. We found out that their France was the SOLE country in that world as a result of a World Wide War that ended with the destruction of many lands, due to Nuclear Annihilation. The world they were on was dying of radiation and they needed out. So, with the help of many a brilliant scientist, they uncovered the secrets of sliding and began to seek a place to call home. They had recently found a place when darkslider had taken Spacetime’s (who was the Emperor of France’s vast sliding empire) niece against his wishes. She apparently was raised and tutored by an eccentric darkslider who had been taken her after Space’s brother was killed in a battle in a faraway world’s exploration. When asked why she was so important and why she’d been so close to war, why it had taken so long to track darkslider, Blinqueur looked a tad confused and responded that she was the next in line to be Ruler. And darkslider was an expert in sliding as well as combat, making him allusive as hell. And something that the French had not been prepared for. Darkslider had killed the bounty hunters who had come for him. HurriCain, the most elite of assassins. Coolslidueur, one of the most intelligent hunters around had fallen pray while he slept. All were killed in the most inhumane ways. Too terrible to mention. We came in at the time when Spacetime, the very SHINING CREPE of the entire empire had come personally to save his niece from the perversion that was darkslider, after his timer was damaged by his current and most prepared hunters--Recall317 and Puree. He saw our aide to him when he made a ‘tactical retreat’, and ordered his second in command to come and offer a deal that would aide the both parties interested, at the expense of darkslider’s freedom. “You French are good at those...aren’t you?” I asked. “Deals?” “No retreats.” “If we were not in a civil discussion, I would SLAP YOU SILLY” He answered, “for QUESTIONING THE HONOR OF THE FRENCH!” Uh. Huh. I thought back to the accomplishments of the French ‘accomplishments’. Mimes. Striped shirts and berets. Hairy women. The eating of frog parts and Jerry Lewis. And let us not forget WWII. Winners. It reminds me of that old joke about the Special Olympians. A cruel joke, but funny on a malicious level and extremely relevant here. What’s the worst part about being a French Ruler of the world? Answer: You’re still FRENCH. Ba-dum-bum. Thank you. Try the salad. ...aaaahh...eat me. I tried. Just as they tried to convince us of their cause. This story had more holes in it than a hillbillie's ‘claim’ at human genetic heritage. But, we took it all in. For the deal was as sweet as could be. In exchange for our assistance, we would be given the coordinates to our home, and even be escorted there, all before the day’s end. All we had to do was hit dark at the right time...and we’d be going home. We were enthused. “BULLSHIT.” Temporalflux yelled. “You’re going to use us to do some idiotic hit so you can then take off with what you need and strand us here.” Blinqueur smiled. He’d been expecting this. “Well...I will make you a deal. Since we French have more honor than any other nation in all of the worlds in creation...” he handed Tf a Dom Delouise sized folder. “This is a full report of your home world. The coordinates are included, along with your profiles and facts, including what caused you to slide randomly. You can read it at your leisure. You can even enter the coordinates home for all we care. All you need to do is help us by aiding us at the right time. You COULD now leave, but we trust that this will seal the deal between us and prove our stance in this matter.” “How...did you...” Temporalflux asked amid the papers on his lap. Tf and I nodded....home! Finally...we had a chance at seeing the place of our birth. Hunter, on the other hand, looked down at the folder and shook his head. He wasn’t biting. “How the hell did you get so much information? How the hell does a Canadian get involved with the FRENCH?! YOU ARE CANADIAN...and that LOOKS like Sabre_Edge” Hunter yelled, pointing at the man in the shadows, who stepped out at the sound of his name, “...he’s AMERICAN! And so is SPACETIME! HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME EMPEROR OF FRANCE?! AND WHY IS IT THAT BY ADDING 'UEUR' to names makes them FRENCH?!” “We have our ways. As for Sabre_Edge...I dunno him. I do know PUREE, who stands behind me." Puree/Sabre nodded in recognition. "As for the rest." he continued, "IT’S A DIFFERENT WORLD. IT EXPLAINS ITSELF” “Now...do you trust us?” Blinq asked. Hunter was about to respond in the most vulgar way possible when another interjected. “What do we need to do?” Temporalflux asked, without even looking up from the papers he was reading...and obviously agreeing with it's contents. Blinq nodded to his compatriot, Puree, who in turn handed over two...guns? One looked like a long range rifle and the other one of those listening devices that peeping toms use to spy on others. You know the kind...perverts. The one that has a satellite dish with a rod going though it that’s attached to a handgun like handle. Sickos. Anyway, we were told to wait one hour and look out the window. At the appropriate time, we were to shoot darkslider with the long range rifle, which contained a tranquilizer dart of so strong a dose that he’d be out in less than a minute. While this was going on, we were to simply aim the other ‘gun’ at the party below...to ensure that nothing fishy happened. Further questions about the gun’s use was met with French NONSENSE about honor, croissants, or something... The French believed that darkslider could ‘molest’ people’s minds and had done so to little “Dispositif”(which was the little Empress' name) so many times that she now believed he was her Poppa. Even though he had killed her mother and father in cold blood. So powerful was this mind trick that this little weapon was needed. Uh huh. And where were the aluminum foil helmets to keep him from stealing our minds? Crackpots. However, the superstiscious beliefs were backed up with darkslider's list of evil deeds that ranged from the absurd to the vile...and although the whol thing smelled no better than the fecal matter downstairs in the only working bathroom...the folder with our coordinates, and Tf's expression and sidelooks to us told me it was roses. Temporalflux and I agreed to do the deed. We were then given more information on the gyst of the act, where to look, etc.. But I was no longer paying attention, as I was too busy watching Hunter. He was looking out the window...and had an odd look on his face. It was disgust. The hour that went by after our new Allies left was uncomfortable to say the least. Hunter had taken a new dislike to both of us...even after Tf confirmed the accuracy of the folder’s contents in relation to our homeworld. “You’re a bunch of cowardly assholes.” “Eat ass, Hunter” Tf yelled. “Like you’re so high and mighty. You should be kissing my ass for agreeing to do this!” “Why?” “Because you are going to get home, without having to lift a damn finger. S and I will finally be able to---“ “FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR HUNTER.” He yelled “REMEMBER THE WORLD WHERE YOU PICKED UP THE CARD GAME? THE WORLD THAT YOU HAD A CRAVING FOR SOME COCK?! THAT’S THE WORLD WHERE YOU LEFT YOUR HUNTER ALONG AND TOOK ME.” “I told you not to mention that world again, you speedo lover” Tf yelled, lunging for Hunter and pointing the gun to his head. "I HAD NO CONTROL OVER WHAT I SAID!!!" I stepped in between. This was getting out of hand. What was needed was a calm voice with a strong hand. “KNOCK IT OFF, YOU SMALL PRICKED MACHISMO REJECTS.” I yelled shoving Temporalflux backward. “You will pay dearly for this” Hunter yelled at us, “Your cowardice will echo into times unseen and get us all killed.” “Calm DOWN, Hunter.” I answered. “This is NOT that big of a deal. Look, they’re not going to KILL darkslider...just capture him. And the story the Frogs gave us may not be real, but it’s all that we have...we need to bring justice just like those Monkeys did in that world...you remember...” “NO S, YOU JAR HEADED BABOON. I DO NOT REMEMBER ANY OF THAT SHIT. I DON’T REMEMBER THE TIME WE SAW THE MONKEY JUSTICE LEAGUE. I DO NOT REMEMBER THE TIME WE GOT STUCK RANDOMLY SLIDING...AND I DON’T REMEMBER THE TIME YOU AND TF HAD A HOT TUB SESSION TOGETHER THINKING THE OTHER WAS SABRINA LLOYD.” All of that, without taking a breath. Oh...and for the record...the last part? Not true. Tf and I were testing him... “I AM NOT YOUR DAMN HUNTER! I AM A HUNTER WHO BELIEVES IN THINGS SUCH AS JUSTICE AND NOT SELLING PEOPLE OUT FOR OUR OWN WELLFARE. I AM A HUNTER WHO THINKS BEFORE HE ACTS...AND ONE, IF YOU TWO ARE ANY INDICATION, WHO IS TEN TIMES BETTER THAN THE HUNTER YOU STARTED WITH!” “Jesus man,” Temporalflux answered, “take a BREATH.” “EAT A DICK. YOU TWO ASSHOLES SLIDE ON YOUR OWN. GO BACK TO YOUR OWN WORLD. LEAVE ME HERE. I’LL BE IN THE BEST COMPANY I’VE HAD IN MONTHS.” I needed to lighten the mood before something happened. Hunter spun and began to walk to the door. I called out to him... “I know someone who needs a hug!” I answered, arms open, waddling over to him. “Come here...give us a hug!” SLAM. Wonderful. I was about to go after him when the show began, with the introduction of yelling and crying out of the window below us. Darkslider, the little girl, and many others were now directly below us, bathed in the light from all of the windows of the building we were in. Time to earn our keep.
Commencement de la fin (III)
Episode: B11	By: darkslider	Date: 2/7/02	URL: 545/27437
“I AM NOT YOUR DAMN HUNTER! I AM A HUNTER WHO BELIEVES IN THINGS SUCH AS JUSTICE AND NOT SELLING PEOPLE OUT FOR OUR OWN WELLFARE. I AM A HUNTER WHO THINKS BEFORE HE ACTS...AND ONE, IF YOU TWO ARE ANY INDICATION, WHO IS TEN TIMES BETTER THAN THE HUNTER YOU STARTED WITH!” “Jesus man,” Temporalflux answered, “take a BREATH.” “EAT A DICK. YOU TWO ASSHOLES SLIDE ON YOUR OWN. GO BACK TO YOUR OWN WORLD. LEAVE ME HERE. I’LL BE IN THE BEST COMPANY I’VE HAD IN MONTHS.” I needed to lighten the mood before something happened. Hunter spun and began to walk to the door. I called out to him... “I know someone who needs a hug!” I answered, arms open, waddling over to him. “Come here...give us a hug!” SLAM. Wonderful. I was about to go after him when the show began, with the introduction of yelling and crying out of the window below us. Darkslider, the little girl, and many others were now directly below us, bathed in the light from all of the windows of the building we were in. Time to earn our keep. It’s at times like this when I think of my childhood. I cannot say for sure WHY that is...but I do. Maybe it’s the ability we have as children to see the infinite. Maybe it’s times like these that we recognize that loss of innocence occurs not only once when we are young, but repeatedly throughout our lives. It’s just that the first loss is the most traumatic. Or maybe it’s because it was one of the times I was most happy, and given the fact that I was about to take a man’s freedom and probably life away, it’s the only solace I could think of. Or...maybe it’s the only time I can recall a girl wanting to play doctor with out the word COMMITMENT coming along with it. A lone bird heralded the commencement of some inevitable calamity in a cry that sounded like an old Czech woman looking for her daughter at 5am, or every song that you people play on your radio stations. Jesus, haven’t you heard of Rock, Rap, or even Jazz? PUT ON SOME DECENT MUSIC THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE WOMEN WITH BIG HAIR AND HOUND DOGS. I looked over at Temporalflux. His eyes were narrowed and he held the gun, locked at his shoulder like it was second nature. He closed his eyes and without turning to addressed me asked a question that I thought was going to herald some last minute philosophical debate for the case of darkslider and the otherworldly political differences. I was dead wrong. “Do we have any alcohol?” Huh?! “What?!” “DO...WE...HAVE ANY...” “I got the question, Lee Harvey. The ‘what’ was in question to the ‘why do you need alcohol’?” Tf looked over at me, seriousness and murder in his eyes. “I am a southern boy, S. We learn to shoot before most Northern kids learn to use the potty correctly. However, with this comes a certain...requirement.” “Seeing your sister naked?” “No! Ugh! Alcohol. I need to be accurate. I only have three shots in this rifle. If I miss even once, I think darkslider might catch on...and we won’t get home.” “Well, there’s some wine that Blinqueur left as a gift. Will that do?” “Hmm...do we have any rubbing alcohol?” “Dude, what the hell is the matter with y---“ “Find some. Mix the bottle with the wine. Then, come back and give it to me.” “We don’t have time...the whole thing is going down as we speak...I’m never going to...” “Shut up and listen. There’s a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the bathroom’s medicine cabinet. Get it. Mix and bring it to me. NOW! “ He then cocked the gun back in place and looked through the scope...down at his target. Discussion closed. Step and fetch it. Bastard. I set down the satellite dish-on-a stick and ran out of the room, down the hallway and into the only working bathroom in the whole damn place. Now, don’t get me wrong. “Working” is a severely loose term. Roaches would leave this place in disgust. Things adorned the wall. Things that, at least at one time, began their lives in the human body. At least it covered the Anne Geddes and inspirational pictures on the wall. Who needs those in a MEN’S bathroom I wondered? Do you really need inspiration to use the toilet? Or do naked children on lily pads really instate a sense of calm that allows one to move their bowels? No matter. I turned and looked for the medicine cabinet. It was there, amidst three hundred stickers claiming that “HugKok Roks your mother like no other!”. What the hell does that mean? Now, the difficult task. How the hell was I going to open it? I looked around the room - nothing seemed to give me aide in my task. And I KNEW for a FACT that I was not going to use any part of my own body to open that. Kari Whurer has less disease than that mirror. Only one option remained. I took my shoe and kicked it open with one swift motion. Darkslider would have been proud. The cabinet opened with a sickly sticking sound that made me think of the sound dentures must make in the mouth of the elderly on hot days. Ugh. Inside this hideous carrying case was a mess of things, including Ly-Sol, Visine, some Listerine, and the holy grail --- Rubbbing Alcohol. I grabbed all four items and ran back to the room. “TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH” Tf yelled, unmoving. “Do you know what was in that septic tank of disease?” “Your mother?” I should have shoved his country ass out of the window, but we had work to do. I grabbed the rubbing alcohol and the wine and poured them into the vase that adorned our ‘dining room’ table. I mixed them together and handed them off to the impatient Tf. “Finally.” he said, and without another word took a huge swig of the vase. “Hooo...that’s the stuff.” He gasped, taking aim. darkslider was in the middle of a circle of people. Recall317 stood out among the rest and spoke to darkslider almost apologetically. “You know why I am here and what Puree and I have to do, yeah?” “Yep.” “No hard feelings?” darkslider shrugged. Cool as a damn cucumber Just like Burt Reynolds or some shit. Little Dispositif was no where to be seen. Darkslider knew what he was doing. And so did the French. Blinqueur, standing aside Recall looked back at Spacetime, bandaged and safely in the back. He nodded, causing Blinq to do the same in our direction. That was our cue. Tf sighed and squeezed the trigger. Like a pro. However, his aim was that of a blind special Olympiads’. The shot went wide and ricocheted off the side of a building. We faintly heard the aforementioned bird give another cry and fall to the ground in a thud. Lucky for us, that was the only sound thanks to the silencer. Below us, no one noticed. Not even Blinq who was now nodding like a loon. “whoops...” Tf whispered.” Dude, this alcohol is too weak. I can still see and do simple mathematics. Do you have anything else?” “Yeah..” Taking no chances, I dumped everything into the pot. I even threw in the binaca I had and mixed it together. The fumes emanating made the room spin. I ran back to Tf, who, without even looking drank half of the concoction. He closed his eyes and uttered something under his breath. “ThAt’S beTTer...” This time, his eyes were no longer through the scope. He seemed to be aiming with sheer will. He fired. Below, Blinq now seemed to be attached to a damn dashboard. His head was now lolling like a mental patient’s at a speed that would have given most whiplash. Darkslider had made short work of the front of the assault in a time that was staggering. He had just knocked Recall out cold and was approaching Puree when the dart whizzed by his head, missing him by mere inches. The dart’s destination now changed, did not deter it’s hunger for flesh, in the same manner that most of you hunger for fat women in spandex. It found new mark in someone who was not expecting it at all. Someone we’d met before and who’s courageousness, while talked about, seemed more mythical than a unicorn’s existence, as he controlled the battle FROM THE REAR. The dart struck the Leader of the French World straight in the face. He let out a startled ‘Zut Alors!” and fell over, holding his face. Darkslider had now backhanded Puree, who in turn went down just in time to meet a knee. Puree fell with a thud. Darkslider didn’t even bother to look down to see where he landed. He closed in on Blinq, still nodding. I looked over at Temporalflux. He was looking through the gun scope at the battle below. Preparing like only those who hold another’s life in their hands. Sweating like a pig, smelling like Olde English and talking to himself. Add that to his aim, and I could now see why the South never won the war. That being said, it seemed that Tf was in his own world, trying desperately not to screw this up. And to most it seemed like he just needed silence to complete his mission. Although to me, it seemed that he needed some words of encouragement. “You sure you can do this? You don’t look so good. AND DEAR GOD ARE YOU BLIND?! You’ve missed TWICE ALREADY, EAGLE EYES!” He did not respond. Instead, he downed the rest of the drink and looked outside. Waiting. Aiming now by sheer feeling and looking old. It looked like each bullet had taken ten years from his life. He even had some senility it seemed....mumbling to himself all the while. That is...until I heard what he was saying. Underneath the breathing, and yelling below I could hear his mumblings. He was saying “Get them home. Get them home. I promised. I won’t let wade happen again.” Over and over. Normally, I’d be calling the little men in the white coats to come and take my friend away...but the sheer pressure of it all came to me. TemporalFlux carried the burden of our adventure. Where we’d never really come out and blamed him, he’d taken it just the same. And he’d paid the price. While Hunter and I could share in the loss of a home we’d never see, Tf had that AND the weight of being responsible for it’s creation. It was he who invented Sliding. It was he who talked us into going. It was he who made the decision (deep down) to Slide in the emergency. And it was he who was now bared sole custody of a chance to get home. You know, I always thought that Quinn (the boy genius who invented Sliding on the television show) had simply become apathetic over time because the actor who played him no longer gave a damn. His character went from courageous kid to apathetic adult who cared little for the death of a Father/Mentor, the rape of his long time close friend and love, and the loss of a home. Bad acting? Sure. But maybe...just maybe...it was the best damn job I have ever seen when it came to anguish. Think about it. Well, MOST OF YOU CAN’T, and since the show did not exist here, I will do it for you. You lose your innocence. Your mentor dies protecting you. Your father was hit by a car. All things that you love are taken. You, a genius of a unparalleled magnitude, can invent sliding but CANNOT find the equation to get yourself home. Everyone and everything you cared for is wasted. Even your ‘gift’ that held you away from the pain for so long. Why? Who knows? Fate? Life’s chances? God? Whatever it is, a secret seed of personal decay is planted, and you create the rational from the irrational. The lumbering disappointment and failure feeds it and the darkness that the love for the lost Ones nurtures it. ‘Ultimately’, the little seed now come plant tells you, ‘you are useless’. You’re a failure. You’re worthless. The blame that those words cradled crippled you in a way that twisted your back more than a pretzel. And still they continued. You don’t mean anything, and it’s best if you just die. So... You die inside. It was then that I knew that if Tf did not get us home soon, there would be one morning where Hunter and I would wake up and find him hanging from the rafters. I shuddered. I wouldn’t let that happen. I COULDN’T. Tf was a lot of things. Annoying. Egotistical. Narcassitic at times. Distant. A lover of Streisand. But about all others he was something more. A friend of such magnitude that calling him brother would be an understatement. I used this much in the same way that Tf used his shame and self loathing. I turned it to the bastard outside fighting the French. WE deserved to live. WE had done nothing wrong but be curious. WE had helped worlds. WE. I took this and made every single word that Blinq had said and made them true. Gospel, if you will. I turned and looked outside. Amazing. All of that revelation, and less than 30 seconds had passed. Not even the wind shifted so fast. Something down there, though almost was. Darkslider was quick, but not it seemed that he’d met somewhat of a match in the bobbing loon that was our co-conspirator. Blinqueur was almost, but not quite, keeping pace with darkslider’s flurry of attacks. It seemed that he almost knew where darkslider was going to go. All he needed to do was block and parry. And send an occasional kick in just to keep things even. Darkslider, even through this seemed preoccupied, but not overwhelmed. His focus was all on the flamboyantly dressed pile that was the Leader of the French that was behind Blinq. Said pile was now getting up...but his mouth was so agape that a semi could have driven into it. Spacetime was very much aware and awake, even if all of the muscles in his face were not. He cursed at darkslider, yelling at him in some unintelligible language that not even our newfound translators could guess at. Darkslider seemed to understand though, for he looked straight into the eyes of the Leader. Temporalflux took this moment to seize his opportunity. And the expression on his face told me that he was thinking and feeling the same thing I was. WE stood on the edge of destiny and looked in it’s eyes together, perched atop that shoddy hotel. WE passed OUR judgment on one who blocked US. WE never trusted darkslider. WE hated darkslider for all that he was...and at the base level, WE wanted to play God. Control OUR own fate as well as that of those that were in OUR way. And WE wanted to get US home. Nothing else existed. Only WE. And him. The Blocker. The Reason we were still stuck. Darkslider became a rotten enigma. Something that even in the best light resembled a dirty diaper on an elderly woman in the summer. Tf’s aim was true this time. The bullet struck darkslider square in the back of the head. Darkslider turned and gave our building a quizzical look and took one step forward. Then, it seemed, decided that walking was too hard and stopped. He lumbered for what seemed like an eternity. Fate’s embodiment perched on the edge of chaos. It’s strength superhuman and otherworldly...but not strong enough to counter man’s own decisions against him. Darkslider fell into a puddle face first in a very ungraceful flop and a sound that was eerily like gavel hitting the podium by a judge who had just given final judgment. Darkslider moved no more...but the others around him sure did. They moved in like jackals. Darkslider’s unconscious form was immediately pummeled by Blinqueur, a recovered Puree, and Space, mouth still agape. The beatings made prison riots look like tea time with little girls. Pile drivers, figure four leg locks, and even a chair was thrown on him like some horrible mockery of WWF wrestling a la the French was happening below. Hunter would have laughed. Hunter...WE were reminded was not here. Nowhere, it seemed. He had slipped into chaos with darkslider’s consciousness and Tf’s happiness. “THE SOUTH WILL RISE AGAIN! YEEEEE---HAAAAWWWWW!!!!” Temporalflux yelled...and promptly turned, dropped his gun and puked. Below, the beatings continued for close to three minutes. Sounds that still make me cringe came from the other part of WE and from below. And then the cries of the little girl, who I can still hear in the dead of night, began. She appeared from the darkness around the little party below and ran toward darkslider. “DADDY! NOOOoooooo!!!!” She moved in between the attackers, stopping the beatings with her own little body. The distance between her and I made her appear all the more miniature and doll like. Her little white frame sharply contrasted with the red blood and the utter darkness that lay in pools below her fallen pseudo-father. It was then that I noticed a certain method to the madness. It seemed that the French were aiming their attacks at dark’s right hand for some reason. Dispositif threw her little body on top of her kidnapper in a protective stance that made me hate darkslider even more. He stole her. Killed her family and NOW drove her to protect him! Ass. I willed myself to be down there, in Puree’s body as he shoved her aside and stomped repeatedly on darkslider’s hand. Stepping on it until it snapped like a bundle of raw spaghetti. Dark made no noise though, even when they smashed his left leg with what looked like a crowbar. I know what you’re thinking. S, you’re a cruel SOB to be watching someone who really may not have done anything get a beat down that would have made most rappers gag. To that I say, in the simplest and most sensitive method possible: EAT MY ASS. He deserved it, and even deserved the smashing to the back he began to get when Puree drove his heel into dark’s lower back. Paralysis was emmintent, or so I thought. It was then that the humming started. Faintly, but picking up momentum. It sounded like a heater starting up in a cheesy hotel room. I looked over at Tf, who was now kneeling with his head down. “What the hell is that noise?!” I yelled. Tf started to say something, but it was drowned out. The humming soon engulfed all sound and drowned all out. It began to drive me nuts. I held my ears and looked outside in the hopes of seeing what the hell was going on. The sound, whatever it was, was now coming from everywhere...and it seemed to have a more dramatic effect on Spacetime’s men than it did us. They were frozen and their faces looked as if they’d just heard that the Facts of Life was going to have a reunion via the PORN industry. All stood motionless, that is except for two people. Looks like I figured out where the sound was coming from. Puree’s hands suddenly shot to his head, because it seemed to be pulsating. And the little girl, well...she was pointing at him...eyeing him like a lioness before the prey. Oh...and she was now three feet off the ground. Her eyes seemed to glow a blue color and her mouth was open, in an ‘o’. It was then that the humming became a weird angelic choir of voices meshed together. Puree fell to his knees, his mouth open too, but in an anguished cry. The girl moved, er floated, towards him. Bearing down. She was very nearly on top of him when I heard my name being whispered beneath the chorus that will still rising. I turned in it’s direction to see Tf yelling at the top of his lungs...pointing at my hands and the dish on a stick before me. Oh yeah. I had a job to do. But what was it again? I was having a hard time thinking as it was, what with the damn choir in my head. But that’s not all that got me. Even with the Holy Mormon Choir booming around me, I could now hear Puree’s screams. Whatever the hell was going on,it must’ve hurt like hell. But this wasn’t happening, I told myself. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, I said. This isn’t just simple protection of her father. This is the product of some brainwashing and some seriously powerful acid flashbacks on my part. She’s not floating, she’s not some mini Carrie, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. People don’t float. People don’t have blue auras. Five year olds do not have the power to warble windows. Unless it's by sheer irritation. As I argued with myself, Puree’s screams reached a fever pitch. Every single window in our building, along with every other piece of glass in the block our little Roach Hotel occupied shattered. And then...like that Puree’s head exploded. A gush of things shot up in a fountain as his now headless body fell forward and onto the ground in a thud. The little girl mimicked her kidnapper/father. As soon as Puree died, she turned her attention to Blinq. Her little voice now joining the chorus, arm now pointed at Blinq. He, however, began to do the same thing. Pointing at her. A new, more gothic sounding chorus joined the party. It was hideous sounding. It’s voices were warped and twisted, and they warbled in and out of hearing range. And it was always fainter than the little one's. This was not happening...it couldn’t be. NO ONE has that kind of power. There’s no such thing as psychics, except for that Jamacian lady with her own hotline. And even SHE couldn’t do this. And Blinq surely could not have been able to mimic it. This little girl couldn’t be doing this. She could not commit murder with her mind. This was not--- Temporalflux smacked me in the back of the head. I jumped from my voyeuristic viewing of this battle of the minds and looked at him. He pointed to me and at the dish. And pointed. And pointed I pointed at my own balled fist and pointed to my head, then to his jaw. Friend or NOT, no one sucker punches me. He, in turn, pointed to the dish again, then outside at Puree’s corpse, then to the little girl. He remained pointing at her. With his free hand, he made some kind of salute. What the? Too much alcohol. I looked questioningly at him, until he pointed at the folder. Home came back into my mind’s focus. Uri Gellar nonsense aside. Home awoke again. Dreams of seeing my family awoke. WE awoke again. Fine. I’ll use this thing. I’ll do my part to serve WE, even if it meant I needed to wear saran wrap underwear in order to ‘keep the FBI from stealing my sperm’. I picked up the tool, looked at it and shrugged. What the hell? I pointed to dish at Dispositif, expecting nothing. What I got was something more. She screamed, the chorus began to join her. The ground shook. And then, she fell with a smack. Square on top of darkslider. A nice, neat, little pile delivered to the French as promised. Then...slowly, Blinq lowered his hand...the gothic warbling ceased. And blessed silence came back. WE did our job. WE were going home. WE had done it. And now I needed to do as Tf had done a few minutes before. I promptly turned and felt the disgust in myself well up. The betrayal of an ideal that Hunter had made vocal. The screams of the little girl. Puree’s death. It all overwhelmed me. I turned my head away from TemporalFlux and puked my innocence and morals all over the floor. An hour later Tf and I were cleaned up and standing before a very pleased Blinqueur. He beemed at us as if we were school children who had answered a difficult question correctly. Yet, for all his happiness, Tf and I felt odd, even empty. We’d looked for Hunter for well over an hour, and he had disappeared. As had darkslider and the little mind killer. I asked Blinq about this, but he did that damn "tut tut" motion and told me not to ask in official government matters. I pressed on the matter, but he said nothing, instead he nabbed the timer from Tf and took out what looked like a palm pilot. In an instant he downloaded the coordinates to our home. We watched as he raised his hands. “And now...” Blinqueur opened the vortex. It’s color a vivid blue. As blue as Dispositif’s eyes no more than an hour ago. “We thank you, our comrades in arms. Even with your shoddy sniping skills, we succeeded. We now see bright things for this girl and the worlds in question. LONG LIVE FRANCE!” We looked in. Our home was now three feet and one slide away. WE were going home. The WE that had taken destiny by the balls, that is. Thoughts of home danced in our heads. The family. The friends. The comfort. We came out of it with the sound of a crunch. Far away, it seemed. Almost like a softer version of the sound dark’s hand made no more than an hour ago, but more artificial. That’s what brought me out of my nostalgic stupor. I looked around for it’s source. It was then that I noticed that no one had the timer any longer. It was on the floor now, beneath Blink’s foot in more pieces than most of you have teeth. “You will not be needing that, any longer.” Blinqeur said. “What?! I mean---you just--all those worlds---new friends-” Temporalflux asked. “Gone. Your days of that are done, I am happy to say. Now...” Blinq waved his hand. As he did, two mimes with uzi’s approached us. “...you will be leaving.” I looked at Tf. “Dude, we can’t leave Hunter...and what the hell is going on---” Tf looked at the mimes, at Blinq, then at me. All emotion dropped from his face. “He’s gone. He was not our Hunter anyway. Let him find his own way home.” And with that, he leapt into the vortex. I looked around at the French Entourage one last time. Sissies. I could take all three of them on if I had to. And I meant to. But I did not have time. Blinq shoved me into the vortex and the mimes sent a little warning shots into the whole after me. When you slide, you do not see a blue tunnel. Or a tunnel of any kind. You DO, however, see the worlds that you are passing by, much like you see the scenery in a speeding car. I watched this worlds go by and felt myself slam into something, knocking me out cold. I came to in what seemed to be days later. I was in a white room. A home, maybe? A home in OUR home world. Temporalflux’s image loomed over me immediately. “Ohmygod...S....I’m sorry.” “Huh?” I asked, looking around at the room. Where the hell was I? “I...I...don’t know what happened...but I knew that they wanted us to leave. I wrote down the coordinates to that world before Sgt. Crepe came. I knew he’d have us leave immediately...even leave Hunter...I didn’t think he’d smash the timer, but who cares...I have the schematics at my house...but something he said didn’t ring true to me...something I should have seen but did not. I’ve been waiting for you to wake for the past three weeks going from my house to here...” “Wait...YOUR HOUSE? So...we’re home then?” I groggily asked. “Yes...but...” “Shut up. Just let me enjoy that. Let me feel what it’s like to have the sense of being home.” I felt whole again. I was...home! I closed my eyes and imagined the wind beneath my arms as I sat on one of my home world’s hilltops. Outside I heard what sounded like cheering followed by fireworks. Must be a celebration. Maybe in our honor? Such joy was something I had not felt in MONTHS. But something about the room kept nagging me. Where the hell was I? Why was Tf looking like someone had died? What the hell was that noise outside that sounded a little less like fireworks with each passing burst? My eyes fell onto a poster behind Tf. My eyes still out of focus, I used all my strength to make it clear. As I looked on absently, something suddenly came to me. “Tf?” “...yea---yeah?” he asked. Getting up hastily so that I need not move. “Do we both still have the translators on?” “Yes.” “I want you to do me a favor.” “Anything.” “I want you to read something to me.” I began to lean and reach for a pen and paper. But before I could move, Tf had them out and handed them to me. I scribbled the words as I remembered them onto the pad and handed them to him. Damn...I must have hit my head. Just doing that made me exhausted. Now, what I wrote was,”Etes Unis Chiens and Dispositif.” What Tf said when he repeated it were the words I had written en francais, but what I heard through my new translating ears was:”United States Dogs...” And the name for the little girl. Sounded odd to me that she’d be named something that sounded like a French bank transaction. Dispositif. Why the hell did Blinq write the name down? And not say it? Supersition? What Tf then said changed US forever. It was then that the warm feeling in my stomach went cold. What does the little girl’s name in English mean? “Device.” I shook my head. And turned my attention back to the poster. With this revelation, came a new clarity of the senses. Snoopy...in a wheelchair. So, I was in a hospital. Damn...how bad had the slide been?! I reached up and touched my head. Bandaged and damp. As I felt the gauze, I asked: “We helped the wrong side, didn’t we Tf?” “Yes...” “And outside...that’s not celebrating or fireworks, is it?” “No, S...it’s not.” “What is going on outside Tf?” “We’re fighting a losing battle with some Invaders.” “Do they speak French?” “Oui.” WE have just awoken. WE have just seen what the plan was ALL ALONG. Moving from place to place? Yeah. Needing a new home? One without opposition and free from human civilization? Where the hell have I heard that before? “We need to get out of here, Tf.Need to find Hunter...and maybe even darkslider. It's the only hope...” I said as I attempted to rise. “S...we do, I agree, but...you see...” WE finally see the truth. The French tricked us. Got us to take darkslider's kid away from him because she was like Carrie on Crack, and so they could follow us. Stake out our world. Make sure we were behind them technologically. Then, strike. I pulled myself up without thinking. Thoughts of destroying the French swam through my mind as I tried to swing my legs off the bed and onto the floor. WE wanted vengence, I saw that in Tf’s eyes. WE WANT JUSTICE. I wanted to jump up, grab Tf by the shoulders and get going. The world needed to be saved. Something was odd though...my legs...weren’t listening. WE have just realized that something was wrong with me. Maybe it’s just the drugs. They pump a lot into you when you have a concussion. I told my legs to move their asses off the damn bed. WE HAVE A WAR TO WIN. But, somewhere, somehow, my legs’ lines of communication to my brain had been left with Hunter in chaos. Along with darkslider. Any Tf's dignity. I screamed at them in my head. GET UP. But, like the front lines of my home world, they did not hold up... My legs... They did not respond. “Tf?” I asked, the panic raising in my damn throat. “Yeah?” “I think they’ve given me too many drugs. The walls are a meltin...and my legs...heh heh...” Funny how you laugh at the worst times in your life. Almost as if you hope that the laughter could erase the awesome horror of the time. “my legs...they aren’t working...Tf? Tf? Why...is that...happenin...I mean...it’s just the drugs, right...Tf?” Temporalflux said nothing. He didn’t have to. The Snoopy poster. The bullets that slid with me. The bandage around my lower abdomen. They all told me the same thing. The world's noise faded again. Only thing that I was aware of was Tf's sobbing and Snoopy. Waving and welcoming me to the world of parapalegia.
Commencement de la fin (IV)
Episode: B11	By: darkslider	Date: 4/30/02	URL: 545/27862
I was dreaming again. It was the same dream I'd had about three thousand times before, without any variation. Which would not have been that bad had the drugs that were slowly being dumped into me to remove the pain in my head not followed me into the dream world. Creating a dream world would have looked like the damn Mushroom Kingdom. Lord knows that I could have used another magical mystery tour into a land full of talking smiley clouds and magic mushrooms that made you huge and where your biggest threat was a flame spouting tortoise that could only move forward three steps and jump. This time, though the twists WOULD be different...and I'll be damned if the medication did not have something to do with it. At least that's what I hope, as the dream was odder than your burial rituals here. And a lot more horrific. My dream world became one filled with anguish. A place full of sorrowful screams and wails. A world of blood and pain. And a place where I no longer referred all of us in this damn mix as WE, like some militant beat generation poet. In the dream, I run...ha. ...ha. Anyway, I run toward a young woman no older than twenty three. Her eyes doe-like and almond shaped. Her hair flowing like one of those Herbal Essence commercials, albeit without the gay workmen. She waved to me. I, in turn, waved back. With that good natured wave, I begin to speed up. Same as always. Same bat channel. Same bat time. Only this time, I remember that this is merely a dream, like completing High School Equivalency Exams for you people. This time, instead of running in place forever with her just out of my reach, I stop in the middle of the field. I touched the tall grass with my splayed fingers, letting each stalk slip through the gaps. I looked around, enjoying the simple act of standing on the meat stilts that somehow will no longer listen to their master in the real world. I felt the wind gush around me, and the sun's rays hugged me like a lover. I smelled the air and smiled for the first time since Crème World, as the aforementioned green grass caressed my legs. The waves of wind were measured by the shine that the grass made as it bent to the will of its power. Only Home could be so peaceful. So beautiful, so....magical. I embraced that feeling and began to run toward the waving girl in a black dress that matched her hair to the nine. And as I ran... Ran. Me. Running. Ha. What a cruel place the dream realm is. It takes the one thing that you desire above all else, and gives it to you, allowing you time to bask in it's presence, just long enough for you to get acquainted with it. Then, after the comfort and overall well being you get from it, you wake up. Alone. Without a damn thing. You let out an anguished cry and scream endlessly as if the item had been stolen. You damn precious taken by some midget with hairy feet, hiding just outside your grasp. Even in my most wild dream, here...I knew for a goddamn fact that the only running I'd ever do was with urine as my bladder released and my body, without the ability to control it, would let it run down my leg like an elderly man. Even still, I ran. I knew my legs were now as active as the 50% of you out there on the Gubment's dime and cheese, watching the antics of Jerry Springer's proof that evolution in humans was not possible, as most of what scientists would call the missing link are sleeping with their sisters and grandmothers in Alabama. The girl before me waved ever more furiously, willing my arrival by hailing an unseen taxi behind me. Arm bobbing like Blinquer's head not too long ago. I arrived at her in a short amount of time, and she smiled. It shone like the sun above us. And wiped those previous thoughts away. "It's about time. Jeezus, you'd think you were paraplegic with the way you run." She laughed and spoke as if we'd just been talking a minute before and had just begun a playful race in the field right at the middle of the conversation. "What...? Hey....I..." I said, choking back the tears that had run down my face every day since I awoke without the ability to walk. Ouch. She looked aside as she shook her head at my words, as if hearing something I could not. Whatever she heard upset her a great deal, because she began to sob outwardly what I was fighting inside. A shadow passed over the spot where we were standing, leaving us in a place far colder than Antarctica, your beds when the cows are in heat, or a tomb. "You need to follow that path," she pointed to a little trail behind her, and wiped a tear away. "You'll find all you need in that tree over there." Uh-huh. Right, bag lady. RIGHT. That information could only have been sent by the earwax gnomes. And a tree? "Have you been smoking some of the leaves from that tree there, sweets? 'Cause the only answer I am going to get there is why most dendraphiliac's tender parts don't last long in that fetish." She cracked a smile that was sadder than the previous sob and motioned. Me, being on dream legs and having less control over them than my real ones, followed her command. Although as I past, I looked at her again. She was now roughly four years old, in a dress too big. "Disposi—" She shot a look over at me. "Don't call me that!! That's not my name!!" I nodded. Fine. I reached the tree that was nearly ten feet away in two steps. As I did someone popped out behind the tree, in full costumed glory that was the Scarecrow from Oz. TemporalFlux danced around, laughing like the village idiot, spinning our broken timer on his finger, and then shoving it in his mouth as he finished his rendition of ‘If I only had a brain." What the.... "Tf? Are you all right?" TemporalFlux giggled and did a mild jig in response. Slapping his thighs and doing the hambone to some odd tune that only school children know, or something you people hum at the Ho-Downs you have. I was going to get as much information out of him as I was from a VCR programming booklet. "Tf can you tell me why exactly –" "Nope, nope nope!" He sang, slapping the tree in tune to the ‘nopes'. Interesting. At least this Tf had rhythm. He ended the Q and A by ending the beat on my forehead with a smack and tugged at my arm, urging me go with him down the path that appeared from nowhere. Fine. I walked with Cool-Mo-Dee in a straw hat for a while, until I came upon a cowering HunterD in the rattiest lion costume I have ever seen. He meekly looked up and smiled. Tf began a new beat, similar to one played by Bugs Bunny's Theme Music while on stage in that cane and hat. Each beat seemed to make Hunter desire to make himself smaller and smaller. He cowered in the grass. "Dude, get up. It's okay. There's no one here but us." I said softly. "BADA BUM BUM!" Tf loudly finished the song by first slapping me and then Hunter on the head with each BUM. Hunter screamed and dove into the tall grass surrounding the path we were on. "ENOUGH!" I yelled at them. At the trees. At the path. At the damn sky. "Yeah. All right." I yelled behind me, releasing my frustration at the situation and yelling at God knows who. " I UNDERSTAND THE THIRD GRADE ANALOGY. The Wizard of Oz. A GIRL'S JOURNEY HOME WITH PEOPLE WHO NEED COMPLETION. TemporalFlux's pride in intellect was his flaw in our journey. Hunter's courage lead to his misunderstanding and miscalculation in times of need in many worlds. Hell, I half expect –" I looked down. My legs looked like something out of a Mega Man video game. "Yep. Tin Man. I get it. CLEVER. My caring took each scenario's reality and distorted it." I kicked the dust, startling The HunterLionKing in the grass. He hid beneath his enormously large paws. "What's next," I asked "darkslider in a dress?" As if on cue, someone in a dress did appear from just over the next ridge of the hill in front of us. But it wasn't darkslider. It was Her again. Little as she was the last time I saw her. She laughed and pointed as she walked toward us. "Look at you. So sill-E." "Where's Toto, Dorothy?" I asked, already knowing the answer. A large black wolf/dog appeared from behind her, moving to her side and staring intently at me. TemporalFlux signaled his arrival with a BUM BUM BUM BUUUUMMMM.... And Hunter whimpered. Dorothy, however, seemed to hardly notice him at all and addressed me. "There's not a lot of time, you see. I don't have the ability to sit here and tutor you in what's going on. All I can do is take you through yourself and to Him so that maybe you can talk...and fix this." Dorothy said, her little voice punctuating the words in ways that no adult could. "Now, if you can get Hunter to get up, we can all go...it's not far." Hunter got up with newfound courage at her words. The dog nodded at her. Jesus, the drugs I was on. I half expected a cow and crow with white Mickey Mouse Gloves to fall from the sky and begin dancing by moving up and down to Tf's beat. "And Lassie here...is...?" I asked. She looked over into the general direction of the dog, but it seemed that she couldn't quite see him. Yet, she answered anyway. "Your representation of....whatever you wish it to be." She responded and turned, taking Hunter's hand. Right. This was all my idea, which told me a great deal. Not about the whole Oz thing, mind you...but the whole Judy Garland undertone told me a few things. Namely, that I should really check into Bath Houses and beef up my collection of Show Tunes. And yet I followed anyway. What else could I have done? It was, after all, only a dream. Lil' Judy was right. In no time we reached the Emerald City, only instead of made up midgets greeting us, behind the large doors, an alley showed itself. And in the cobble stoned French alley there was a small party. Complete with people I knew. Nobuyuki sat at an iron rod table, talking with HurriKain drinking coffee. SpaceTime and Sabre_Edge idly chatted while looking through a window. Dorothy had chosen to vanish as we entered to the small soiree. Not that any of us noticed, because Tf was too busy singing and Hunter was trying to hide behind the six inch flower pot next to us. This soon stopped though because the guests began to move, and did something completely unexpected. Each person at the party stood and applauded our arrival. Even with our ridiculous outfits. Or maybe because of them. Such horrid lapses in fashion judgment deserve some sort of reward. Even if it is applause simply for bravery. The black dog however, seemed non-plussed at this little display as he smelled something and ran off to get whatever it was. Some protector. Stupid dogs. I could have done better with a damn goldfish OUT of the water than I could with that damn dog. I watched it as it ran into a store at the end of the alley. I turned to tell my companions about this, before realizing that I was hanging out with a catatonic lion and a singing loon in a scarecrow outfit. My forgetfulness was rewarded with a ‘BUM BA DUM" and a slap to the forehead by said scarecrow. "Okay, that's the LAST TIME," I yelled at TemporalFlux. Not that he noticed. He was already being lead away by HurriKain. With that, the party settled in and began to look as it did when we arrived, save that different people talked to each of the three of us separately. SpaceTime and Sabre took Hunter and began to talk with him. HurriKain was still speaking to Tf, leaving me to my own devices. I began to walk up and down the street we were in, looking into the occasional window, and listening to the clank of metal that my metal legs made on the floor. All of them lead into what appeared to be another landscape, or world. One shop window held the beach within, another the sky. Another seemed to hold a mountain range within its grasp. I kept walking until I hit a shop that held a stormy sea cliff landscape. A landscape that seemed to be moving. I looked back. Everyone was talking idly and paying zero attention to me. I turned back to the window and leaned in to look at the sea cliff when I fell. Sideways. And suddenly I was on the sea cliff. Dark clouds above. The sea raging below. Jesus, I've had some crazy dreams, but this one takes the cake. "It's amazing, isn't it?" a voice answered from behind me. I turned. It was Nobuyuki. Sitting on a rock and staring serenely toward the waves. "Sure, if you like Banshees and Death," I retorted and turned back toward the waves. Nobuyuki seemed to ponder my words, and seemed to choose his own even more carefully. "Which is why I am here," Noby said. "This place is a perfect image of your travels thus far, is it not?" "Yeah, sure. Stormy, oddly interesting, and completely without end," I answered. "MMmhhmmm..." Noby said. "You seem to understand, yet you do not comprehend." "Thanks Noby, but I think I get the gist of my own subconscious more than you, an obvious fragment of it." "shhhh...." He laughed. "Always talking, never listening. Seeing. Or being. Can't you just look at this and enjoy it?" "I can enjoy this whenever I want. This is a dream. My dream, so I imagine I have seen this before in my life somewhere," I snipped. "Just as I can end this whenever I want." "Is that so?" he asked laughing at some unknown joke. "You think this is your dream, your words, or even your thoughts about all of what you are seeing?" "Aren't all dreams that way, Laughing Boy?" I asked, turning and looking into his eyes. "I am the center here, and all of this is some sort of message from me TO me." "Maybe...." "Maybe?!" I yelled, anger building for no reason. "Who the hell are YOU to tell me what is and what is NOT? What're you, my father?!" He smiled. "As a matter of fact...I am." "Is that so?" "Yes," he answered assuredly. "You, Tf, and the original Hunter are all my creations. My children, if you will." Right. And darkslider was my auntie. I scoffed and looked toward the ocean. "Okay, Dad. And tell me...why then was I made?" "You were made to explore new worlds and tales. Help others explore the depths of characters. Pick up where the Others left off. And even to complete the story they initially screwed up." The waves sound on the rocks made more sense than this horseshit. "The others? I dunno if Mom would want to know about your infidelity products, Pop." I joked. "No, no. Not , my creations. The Others were those that came First. Sliders was named for them." Noby said. "So, let me see if I understand this. You MADE me." Noby nodded. "You then DIRECTED my life in order to finish the exploits of ACTORS in a TELEVISION SHOW, and now, you wish to tell me all of this in an effort to get my thanks?" Noby merely looked at me. Right. Somehow, no matter how much morphine I have in me, there's NO WAY I was going to buy that. It was my turn to laugh. I looked over at him, cackling like a loon. "Right. And who's my momma? Informant? Lord. At least I got YOUR looks." Even HE had to laugh at that. Yet, he didn't. Damn. I thought it was funny. He simply sighed and continued. "Look, I just want to apologize. Your journey was never meant to become this. Ever. I wanted you to get home and be happy at the end of the Tale. I never would have created this had I known your fate." "You? Who're you?" "I am the Creator here. I made all of this...and even you." He sighed. "Weren't you listening to me?" "Ohh...kay. Someone else has been hitting the oregano a little too hard. I have parents. A life. I existed long before I even knew you, Noby. So, no offense, but I think you have some control issues." He laughed again. The man must have had an unending supply of nitric oxide that turned on at odd times. I make a hilarious joke and get nothing. I call him mentally unstable and it's the damn joke of the century. "S, I am sorry...to you and your companions. I saw that there was potential in your story...nothing more. YOU as a character could have grown and changed from your birth. But you have not. TemporalFlux, is just a shadow of what he even started out as. And Hunter? Well, he's dead, so it really doesn't matter anymore. I feel to blame, and am sick to my stomach when I see what will be. The others, they made the adventure happy. Peaceful. This one, well, he ends it." I listened and looked out again at the ocean. The clouds were getting angrier. The storm was coming. "Who is going to end it?" "Your Shiva. The Destroyer." "Huh?" I asked, more confused than ever, "Some dad you turned out to be, you can't even stop someone from killing me." He, like many dads of the late 20th century, ignored what I said and continued on with his own thoughts. "And now, your End is out my hands. I wish I could change the inevitable, but I cannot. All I can change is the consciousness in you, hoping to give you another kind of life, and tell you goodbye." "Dude, for the last TIME, you could not have controlled..." My words fell from my lips as I turned. He was gone...right before my eyes. And like that, I was back in the street. I looked around. Noby had left the room. I walked on, shaking my head..... I walked toward the party again. That is, until something on my left caught my eye. The window that contained the skyline now had clouds. And they were moving. And there I was. In the sky. Well, more accurately in a hot air balloon. And I had company. "Hey, S," SpaceTime said, looking over the side and pointing to a group of ant sized people below. "Dude, you think we could hit those people here with these sand bag weights?" "If we aimed it just right," I calculated. "It'd be completely unexpected, you know?" "Yeah, but would that be right? From this distance, it'd kill those people. Something I don't think we have the right to do." "What if it's their fate to die by our hands?" "Fate?" SpaceTime and I then began, a discussion of ethics and the desire of man that I have never had before or since. Namely, can a man change his destiny simply because he wishes it? Can he become God and change the Plan for his own gain? "Is that not selfish," he pondered aloud, "for a man to change the destiny ordained to him by the Higher Power?" "Not at all," I countered. "Only the man himself could truly know the best destiny for himself. No faraway deity with a Napoleonic Complex of worship on his mind could ever achieve what's best for the soul of the individual." "Even if said deity created the man?" SpaceTime asked, untying the weight nearest to him. "Just because one creates something, doesn't mean that he understands it," I retorted, looking over the side and holding my hand up as a signal to wait. "And if the man and soul are nothing but a dream of God?" SpaceTime asked, raising the weight, aiming. "Then the destiny is still something outside the grasp of the god, whose full consciousness is not even in his control," I said, and lowered my hand. The signal to go. SpaceTime merely nodded at both, and dropped the weight. It soared down past the clouds. And missed the ants. Oh, well. "And what of your destiny, Brand_S?" He asked, looking up at me for the fist time. "My destiny is my own." "Even if someone drops a sand bag from thousands of feet up?" "What do you mean?" "Fate is not something seen like a river. Let's say that TemporalFlux keeps going backward in time to change something that happened. He keeps altering the past, but each time the ending is basically the same. Is that Fate being controlled by him, or something else?" "I don't understand." I said. "What if the Fate decided for you is more real and powerful than the one you want? What if by simply getting home and being happy, the point of your journey becomes so absurd that telling it at all was a waste of time?" "Sorry?" I said. How could he know what I wanted my fate to be? "I still don't understand?" "Of course you don't," he said and leapt from the basket of the Hot Air Balloon and into the clouds. And I was back in the street. I then looked over at the next window which held a moving desert, and was immediately there. "Great, another wasteland." I sighed. At least it was easier to get used to. And a tad quieter. "Yep," said a new voice behind me. A voice that I had heard every day of my life. It just normally came from my damn lips and not from behind me. I spun, expecting another party member behind me with impeccable imitation skills. And I was partly right. I sat before myself. Smiling. Cross-legged in the sand. "What the hell? Are you –?" "You? In a manner of speaking, yes," the man in front of myself said. (Now look, I KNOW this is going to be a hard conversation to follow, especially from a group of individuals who think that Conway Twitty is a musical genius. So, I will refer to my double as ‘Sallah' and myself as, well ‘I'. "Care to make more sense than Noby?" I asked, sitting down across from him. "Not really," Sallah responded. "The only thing I can tell you is that you really need to evaluate your own self worth, and even that to me is too much effort on my part." Thanks. What's next? A free copy of "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus?" "I have, man. I HAVE. I am a Slider. A man who has been screwed over many times in my life and just wanted to get home. And now, thanks to the mother of all screw ups, I sacrificed a man's daughter and my own world for a slice of home." "Hey, I wanted you to get home...or maybe I didn't. Maybe it was too trivial a matter for me, or maybe it just wasn't allowed," he responded as if my naked statement was an accusation. "Allowed?! Allowed by who? YOU?! You're nothing but a figment of my doped up mind!" I screamed. There was that damn anger again. Where the hell was it coming from? "Heh." He laughed like the crackling of leaves and disappeared. And on it went. I spoke with HurriKain from the beach. He discussed with me, while wearing a Hawaiin shirt that HAD to have been stolen from a dead cast member of Beach Blanket Babylon that reality is a piece of mind that is stretched over nothingness, in an effort for us to make sense of it all. Nothingness, he added and Don Jo albums. Sabre and I talked aboard a ship in the ocean. His words, while less vague than the others, including "my" own, told me that I was indeed one step away from the end that was merely as immortal as myself. All I need do was embrace it. And then, at last, I was alone in the street. The windows all empty as was the party. Even my musical companions were gone. All I could hear was a lone wind blowing. And soft whispering. "Don't....save....revive," the voice whispered. "Come...help...care...fri...end" The faint voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. I looked around anyway, in the hopes of catching something. I did. At the other end of the street was the black dog... growling. At me. I backed up, palms facing him. "Now... easy now... Cujo. I was just listening for whatever the hell that..." No good. Hell Hound ran straight toward me howling like a fat woman who got to a church bake sale one Ho-Ho too late. I spun and ran into a fence. Great. There was no place to run. Shit, I needed something, ANYTHING, to hold off as many bites as I could. I reached for the chair nearest to me and raised it high. Ready. Toto jumped. Way too early and landed about three feet in front of me. Fighting with air it seemed. Wonderful. Couldn't I at least get a damn thing in my dream that was not insane? It was then that I saw blood come from thin air, a shadow slowly appearing. The dog tore more and more at the shadow's throat as he wriggled his head back and forth. The wind and the whispering rose to another howl. "Stop!" I yelled, realizing something I shouldn't. "I have listened to EVERYONE ELSE, I think I should at least hear whoever this is, don't you agree?" The dog stopped. Looked up and nodded. As an after thought though, it lunged at the shadow once more, just for fun. Maybe the dog wasn't so useless. At any rate, as soon as the dog ceased his attack, the wind and whispering began to fade. The shadow before me slowly became a man covered in blood as the wind died down completely. Toto backed off completely now, and looked up at me. I nodded. He then walked calmly over to me and sat by my feet looking at the figure materializing. It was Blinker. Not the silly French facsimile, but the real deal. I think. And he was dying. He coughed and shot blood up into the air as he rolled onto his back to get a better view of me. He looked like ass. I couldn't blame him, he'd just been mauled by the Ubu Dog from Hell. "I came...to tell you. I am going to save you. No matter what....no matter what he... " and at this Blinker motioned his gash infested head at Toto beside me, "does about it. I, along with anyone else am your Savior. I will save you. You shall not die so easily." "What?" "I...am going...revive you..." he whispered, eyes glinting. "So, if I get this right, someone's going to KILL ME soon." "...yes...HIM." He motioned to the dog again. "Uh-huh. And you're going to revive me. How?" "...say that you're a double. Undo the work." He choked. "Well, therein lies the problem, my man," I said, answering a question that seemed to not involve me at all. "YOUR versions of me would be the doubles. How is that so? Because of our very talk here. I am going to be the true Slider. And nothing, no matter how creative your Canadian Brain gets, will stop that, lest you wish to become the hypocrisy you seek to destroy here by controlling my fate." Huh? What? Where the hell did that come from? "STOP PUTTING WORDS IN HIS MOUTH!" Blinker yelled at the dog. "Let HIM decide!" "By letting you decide for me?" I asked, looking around like a damn ventriloquist's dummy. At least I didn't have the dogs paw up my ass. "YOU don't have the right to DO this" he screamed at the dog, who in turn answered him with a blank stare. "He isn't going to do anything, and neither are you. BOTH of you are going to see that I am in control." I said, in control again for a moment. "And now, if you will excuse me." Blinker sighed, and shook his head and laid flat. "You don't get it! He's going to KILL Y---aaaahhhhhhhh" and with that, he let his soul go and died right there on the street. I looked down at Cujo. "You? What could you possibly do to me? Wet my pant leg? Fetch me the wrong paper? Stick your paw up my ass and make me talk again?!" He looked up at me and replied, "Kill you." What?! Before I could ask, every single window in the alley exploded outward. Glass flew everywhere. All that is, save the mountain window. I walked over and looked in. And there I was, atop a mountain, wind whipping around me. "Kill me? You don't even exist!" I yelled at the roaring wind before me, giving into my own madness. I knew that damn dog was listening. "You have that a tad backwards, my friend." The voice that had escaped from the dog said behind me. I spun and looked upon the dog's representation. The one person I had betrayed recently. The one who seemed to strike fear in many here for no apparent reason. The person who seemed to be my ally all along, but may actually have been my enemy since day one. Darkslider sat atop a rock, in a similar manner to Nobuyuki, albeit now a German version of my previous encounter. All we needed was a few Ricola horn blowers and German girls in shorts and we'd have a nice little picture. "Darkslider?!" I asked, mouth agape. And it was. Really him. Not the weird presentations of him. A skinny young man of middle height with dirty blond hair and a face wanton of a razor. His crooked smile seemed to warm the area around us. Briefly. The darkslider I knew. My friend who was dead but wasn't. "What the hell is all of this?!" I yelled at him. "Your requiem," he spoke sadly, yet with determination. "What?!" "You do know what a Requiem is, don't you?" he asked, an insult and joke rolled into one. "Fuck you. And yes," I answered. "Ah...still such indignation, even though you have no idea what's going on." "So, you're going to kill me as Blinker said?" "Indeed. And much to his disdain, you will stay dead." Why? I wondered. "Because," he answered even though I had said nothing, "your story is in need of life. YOU need life." "And death will bring that?!" "More than you can imagine." "So, you decide what happens, and make the choices for me and the others?! Don't you think that I should have control of my own fate?" I screamed. Darkslider looked me up and down contemplatively. He got up, and wiped the mountain dirt off of his blank pants and shirt. It was then that I noticed that he looked like a gothic priest, right down to the white collar. The only difference between him and priests of God was that his black jacked was about six inches longer and flared out a bit like a trench coat. Great, destiny discussions from a man whose grip on reality was on par with most dictators in the 1930's. He took no notice though; as he walked to the edge of the cliff we were on and looked down. Dark's dirty blond hair whipped in the wind that rushed to meet him. A gay love child of Luke Skywalker and Han Solo in black, looking over the edge of eternity. "Would you let a blind man drive your car, S?" he asked in the way most teachers ask rhetorical questions. "My sight in the situation has little to do with my fate and your influence of it," I yelled. "This is not your fate, Sallah," he said contemplatively. "It is a story, about three people who wanted to get home. And never really did." "Bullshit." "No, really. You three destroyed your own true home world thanks to the one thing you prided yourselves in. Just like Rembrandt and Quinn, and even Wade." "My real life isn't a tale, darkslider. I should be able to decide and learn from my errors." "They are not your mistakes. They were ours, the writers, the seers of your journey. Each adventure you had was an aspect of us exploring the life we saw. Nothing more. YOU three merely gave words to them." "Not at all. My friends and I saw the world and experienced it. WE saw it. NOT you. I was there in all of those. Hell, I never even SAW a darkslider on most of those worlds," I quipped. I paused, took a breath and continued. "That's right. And you know what? It does not matter. I am going to control this adventure as I have before, and not at the whim of some author far away. I am going to win the war with the French, rescue your daughter, get my legs working and right all wrongs." "No, you're not," he said laughingly. "Yes, I AM. I AM GOING TO MATTER." "Me, me me....I, I, I. Don't you want to have meaning? Don't you want life to have some sort of impact on others who may need you to die? Do not the masses matter over the individual?" "What? I am just living. How is my existence robbing anyone of anything? It's not like I have killed anyone." "Right. The thousands of sperm cells that competed with the one that made it inside the egg to make you. The man who starves every day while you blow your money on video games. My daughter in the story. All individuals unaffected by your existence." "Now that's just absurd. I – " "–am nothing," Dark finished for me. "I am someone! I THINK. I FEEL. I ANGUISH. I LIVE." "YOU exist and feel because WE, the writers THINK YOU INTO EXISTENCE," he yelled. "We made you live... and now I shall make you die." "Why?" "Because your story has lost its way. Its novelty and teaching have been in vain. Noby's creation of you is at an end. And I am seeing to it and giving it the best gift of all, a good ending." "Blinker will stop you. I will stop you." "Ha! You can't, and he now won't. I control everything. From your actions, to your thoughts, to your feelings. Even this conversation is from me TO me." Right. Now, he's talking to himself. I wanted to strangle him and end this damn conversation. And so, with everything I had, I threw myself at him. I put my hands around his neck and began to squeeze. He merely laughed. "You making me do this too?!" I asked. "No, but it sure makes my point more accentuated." "Oh?" I asked. Squeezing harder. "I could make you elated about your handicap. Or I could simply remove it. But, instead, I am going to let you live with it, until the end. And that end is coming, Sallah." He coughed and added, "Can you let up a little, it's hard...to....talk..." "Nope." "Fine...." He said wheezing, "...I am going to make you...happy... write....all....this...down...before....die. COUGH." As he said it my feelings about everything switched and swirled within. I even saw myself writing these very words from a wheelchair. Happy and content. I swam under thousands of feelings, ideas, and pictures. They came flooding in and I raged against them. I pushed myself from the brink of unconsciousness and yelled with my entire might against them: "Who're you to make assessments about my story? Or my life? Or even my –" ‘...thoughts and feelings?" darkslider finished, eyebrows raised. "Yeah," I answered, dropping my hands from his neck in defeat. Darkslider coughed as he took in air and rubbed his neck. "I am in control of this story now, and I wish I could give you a happy ending, but I cannot. I will not." "Oh? And why not?" "Because even I am controlled by something." "Prove it." "Fine." In an instant, I was in a room in a new world, away from the mountains. I was in a small suburban home, in a room. A young man sat in a broken chair and looked up at me from a computer screen. "See? Somewhere I too am being written. I am going to die. My life will have as much meaning someday as Hunter's will in the next chapter," the young man said. "What?" "Hunter and TemporalFlux will die in the next chapter. You will remain alive long enough to write your memoirs and will die soon after. I, or the darkslider in your story, who himself has a story is now also being given an end, will be killed brutally and drug through the streets like a dead dog." He said, looking back at the screen. And then it faded and the mountain became the background again. I looked over at the gothic darkslider looking over the cliff. "Right. And what of your daughter? Blinquer? SpaceTime? " "They will win, and my daughter will be taken. Your world, and it is your world you are in now, will be collapsed to feed the French War Machine. Plain and simple. Our troop will fail because each of us will fall to arrogance." "Yeah, see, I am a CRIPPLE now. Where's the arrogance in that?" I asked. "And your double? He'll never dance or play the fiddle again, thanks to what happened. Where's the arrogance in that?!" "Arrogance does not just come from the idea that you are perfection," darkslider retorted. "And regardless, you four will die most grievously." "How does that give my death meaning? And you'd kill yourself to prove a point?" "Don't all great men?" He asked contemplatively. "Fools do that. Great men teach," I answered. "Either way, the point is relayed. And I grow tired of this. You will relinquish your life, no matter what you do – " and he added as an afterthought, "– or don't do." "You CAN'T! I have a life. I have dreams. I have desires! I want to get married. I want to graduate. I want to live to an old age." "YOU can't, because YOU don't really exist. Sallah, the one who you were based on, will," darkslider said, looking out again towards the mountains. "At least, I think he will." "You don't know?" "Nope. Nor do I care to," darkslider replied. "You see, Brand_S, I dunno where Sallah is anymore. He is as dead to me as you soon shall be." "This isn't just about a lesson, is it?" I wondered, "You're out for vengeance like some jilted lover. My double no longer talks to you, so I die." Darkslider chuckled. "When I say that I care little for your character base, I mean just that. I could give a damn what happens to him. He's chosen his path, just as I knew he would. And now, I am choosing mine." "And mine?" I answered. "I still can't see the point in that, even if what you say is true." "Well, at least you now see something other than your own selfish needs. You are not real and under the control of others. You were a creation of Nobuyuki. You were made into a monkey, a savior, a joke, and now you will become a point." "Fuck you, darkslider." "Ha! Look at you, the ‘every man' aspect of the story, hating to become the apex of just that character's realm." He smiled, and looked down. "I am sorry, man but that's the way it's gotta be." Whatever. You were sorry and insane. As for me. I was back atop the mountain yelling at him in Dog Mode. And after yelling obscenities at the Truth I was now seeing, I stopped. "Why?" I asked quietly. "Why are you, of all people, doing this? And what's the point in telling me?" He, for once, looked completely sad, even showing through his dog appearance. "My author demands it. I am to be the villain seen by many, just once, written from my own perspective. It also gives your tale a tad more intrigue. I mean, if you come right down to it, one of the main characters is the hero and the main villain." "As for why this happened? You are not the only one who wishes to exist here. The little girl; she, too, seeks to change her fate." "You are totally insane," I said. "You control everything, but I can choke you and your daughter can cause a conversation between us?" "As I said. I too have an author." "You should ask your author for a tad more sanity then, dark," I quipped. "Maybe," darkslider laughed, regaining that damn vile contempt, "...maybe. Just know that for a time, I too wanted a happy ending for you." He looked back at me, and opened his jaws, smiling the way dogs smile. "Do me a favor? Ask darkslider about Stochi." "What?! Why?" I yelled, "If you're in control, have him just talk about Stochi." "I can't. I never could find a good way to bring it up, and now, since you are my prison bitch, you can create the needed segue for me." This dog was dead. I leapt at my black dog, my enemy friend. Hands set to go around his canine neck. Only I miscalculated in my rage. I smashed right into him, and over the side of the cliff, and began with the Obscenity Train at top volume again. Ah well, at least it did the trick. We hit the ground, he died in the dream and I woke up, in my hospital bed, hands around a visiting Yeontoo's neck. The only thing though, was that I swear that the dog was laughing on the way down...and well into my waking hours after that. To Be Continued...