The Next Level

The humans reached into their pockets and removed their new notes, all of which were the same once again. Sally held hers in her mouth, no one noticing where it came from or that it was even there. The others were too busy reading. Anyway, she looked cute.

Congratulations. You have killed. You are level 1 Bad Guys. More (plus) on back.

See you here tomorrow. Plus – These are your pants. Obviously.

Cal: “I still don’t get it.”

Midnight: “Nobody does. I think that’s part of the fun.”

Rog: “How come this is calling us bad? We killed in self-defense. I’m pretty sure that’s legal.”

Sally: “Meow.”

Midnight: “We wanted to be bad.”

Cal: “Oh.”

Rog: “What?”

Midnight: “I did, at least. It was today that I thought about the adventure of evil.”

Rog: “You did? My queen, so did I! You do not have to live alone with your insanity! It will be me and you from here on out. Together. Crazy.”

Midnight (ignoring Rog, continuing to think out loud): “I imagined a life more exciting, and here it is. How did I get here? Well, I walked. Before that, though, I was online and…”

Calvin (eyes widening): “Your computer exploded?”

Rog (jumping in front of Calvin): “It did? My queen, so did mine! I mean, my PDA did, because I surf the internet on my handheld.” He yet again smiled the smile of supposed success. “You do not have to live alone with your exploding technology. It will be me and you. Together. Exploding.”

Midnight: “Hmmm. So that’s the link.”

Calvin: “It’s not, though. My computer didn’t really explode.”

Midnight: “Nope. Neither did mine.”

Rog: “It didn’t? Yeah, me neither." He removed and displayed his shiny PDA. Ta da! "Then it will be me and you. Together. Not ex…”

Midnight (interrupting Rog, to Rog): “Did you say you have a car?”

Rog (proudly): “Aha! I said I have a Hummer.”

Midnight: “I guess that’s a car. Will you drive me home?”

Rog: “Does a cock crow?”

Midnight: “Apparently.”

Rog (ignorant): “Follow me to your new life. I will rush ahead, to warm the engine and, consequently, your heart.”

Midnight vomited a little bit in her mouth as Rog sped off. She also lingered, with Cal.

For Dave and Chris

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 10
**************

In one of the far corners of the building, there was no exit. Bump. Bump. Bump. There was only darkness. Loneliness was there, too, but loneliness is lonely, so it’s alone. The exit was never going to appear. Nothing was ever going to appear.

“Leave it!” Cal shouted at Midnight, who’d prepared her pole for yet another final blow. “I think it’s blind.”

Midnight: “Which means it can still kill us, especially if it senses us in any other way, such as noise, like your shouting.”

Cal: “Give me one minute.” Midnight tightened her grip. Cal tightened his eyes, and told her once more to “Hold on” before rushing away.

Midnight remained coiled, a mouse trap ready to snap. The mouse in this case was a scorpion - a scorpion that (as has been foretold) had no idea what it was doing and was hissing quite upsetly about this fact. Despite the commotion, it continued in its hopeless attempt to walk through a wall.

Cal rushed back holding… a terrarium? Taking off the top, he carefully placed it over the scorpion. He then slid the top underneath, flipped, and presented to all his prisoner.

Midnight: “Two questions.”

Cal: “Yes?”

Midnight: “One: Did you bring that terrarium from home?”

Cal: “Nope. It was in the second closet.”

Rog , who’d been observing the occurrence, muttered to himself: “Why didn’t I choose the second one…”

Midnight: “Weird. Two: Why the hell did you do that?”

Cal: “Well, in the event that we can’t interrogate it…”

Midnight sarcastically ha-ed.

Cal (responding and continuing): “Ouch… we can at least save ourselves.”

Rog: “We could have saved ourselves by killing it.”

Cal: “That’s not what I meant. Look, maybe I felt bad for the guy. We just turned his whole family into kebabs.”

Rog (incredulously): “Except that they attacked us, meaning they asked for it.”

Midnight: “Let me ask another question.”

Cal: “Yes?”

Midnight: “Do you eat kebabs?”

Cal: “Sometimes.”

Midnight: “Well, the times that you do, you are choosing to do what you were just forced to do to survive.”

Cal: “I only eat chicken and fish.”

Midnight: “You’re a saint, and that’s irrelevant.”

Cal: “I know, to both. Alright. I can’t explain myself. How about this, then: It might come in handy.”

Rog: “It might escape and kill us all.”

Cal (finally commenting on the goggles in Rog’s wardrobe): “Were you planning on swimming?”

Midnight (opting to conclude the conversation): “Keep the scorpion. The goggles are dumb. There’s another note in my pocket.”

Soon After

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 9

Actually, it wasn’t easy at all. Thrusting pool equipment through, say, one hundred scorpions was hard work. It wasn’t paid, either, in anything other than survival. What it was was dynamic, upbeat, and team-oriented – all without the caveat of releasing one’s life to corporate mundanity.

It was also done. The humans had won.

Sally the allied non-human looked from her tubby perch at her three collapsed comrades. She then went back to doing what she’d done during the fight – sleeping.

Midnight: “Well done, all. You have made not only your commander proud, but your entire nation.”

Rog: “Hail! Huzzah!”

A pause, unfilled by noise.

Rog: “Uh… Happiness! Horniness?”

Cal: “There ya go.”

Rog glared at Cal, visibly angry at this sarcastic defamation. With the source of the anger still present, however - in the form of Midnight - the glare soon reshaped into a content grin (a happy grin? a horny grin?). “So man, where’d you get the poles?”

Cal: “They were in the second closet. I think they must’ve been for fishing leaves out of the pool or something.”

Rog: “Ah ha! Now who’s the foolish one? Why would there be leaves in an indoor pool?” The point was a good one, and Cal kept his mouth shut.

Midnight (not so much interested in disproving Rog as ponderous): “I think I saw a wading pool outside. They also coulda used ‘em to knock out all the crap in the drains. I’ve seen women shave in locker rooms. I’ve seen them shave everything. I’ve seen it all.”

Rog: “Sick, my liege!” (continuing) “Oh, I wanted to clarify something from before. When I said, during the fight, that I’m not that stupid, what I meant was that I’m not stupid at all. I’m actually a business major over at DerTech.”

A longer pause, unfilled by even less noise.

Until… Hssssssssssssssss.

Enough for now

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 8

***********************

“Catch!” Cal appeared, throwing newfound weapons at Midnight and Rog. Midnight snatched the item – which appeared to be little more than a sharpened metal pole – out of the air, turned, and immediately skewered two approaching scorpions. Rog only turned, to avoid getting hit by the pole.

“Pick it up!” Midnight yelled. Rog obeyed. “Now stab…” she demonstrated again (this time spearing three) “… and dispose.” She thrust the poker-end over the pool, where the dying scorpions detached and dropped. “Repeat.”

Cal joined the fight from his outside position, picking out the ones arising from the pool. Midnight shouted over to him, “Hey! You’re getting the cheap kills.”

Cal: “It’s not cheap. It’s prudent tactics. This is how we won The Revolutionary War.”

Rog (struggling to shake a scorpion off his stick): “We won by killing scorpions?”

Midnight: “No! We won by…”

Rog: “Oh yeah, I get it. Prudent tactics… Sorry, ma’am. I’m not that stupid. I’m just a bit distracted.”

Midnight: “We all are. Let’s finish the fight.”

Rog: “Oh! Like in…”

Midnight: “Concentrate! And finish it.”

And with that, the self-ordained leader quieted the legions. The ravenous scorpions, while easily holding the advantage in numbers, failed in all other categories: speed, agility, strength, and, most-importantly, spiked metal poles.

Again, it was (as they’ve said) almost too easy.

Who wants pie?

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 7

********************

Midnight (to the returning Rog): “What the hell is that?”

Rog: “It is what we shall use to battle, sire!”

Midnight (reading the tub): “Chlorine?”

Rog: “Indeed! We can soak the mops with the chlorine, wet the area around us – creating a sort of defense circle – and watch as the scorpions collapse from the chlorine fumes.”

Midnight: “Hmmm.”

Rog: “Shall I begin?”

Midnight: “How about if I begin? First, I believe you are confusing chlorine with chloroform, in that chloroform is used to knock people out. Chlorine will mostly disinfect the scorpions before they poison us with their purified venom. Second, that tub you’re holding is full of granular chlorine. That means it’s full of solid, making your liquid-based plan a bit impossible.”

Rog: “There must be a water faucet nearby…” Midnight interrupted, grabbing a mop and whacking Rog in the process.

Midnight: “Except that I already told you the chlorine is worthless. Let’s just use these mops to knock the scorpions into the empty pool.”

Rog: “That could work.”

The attack began. Hungry, angry, rabid, or else wise, these scorpions were not about to pass on by. They wanted a fight, and they wanted blood. Or flesh. Or hair?

Midnight grabbed Sally and placed her atop the chlorine tub. “Stay,” she ordered the frizzled feline, before running off to battle.

Rog was feverishly waving his mop in the direction of the first scorpion wave, and, via a combination of luck and luck, he was enjoying some success. When Midnight arrived, a dose of skill was added, and the success rate rocketed. “To the right!” she yelled at Rog, reminding him that his spasms should at least be directed towards the pool.

FwipHssss FwipHssss. Mop-handle struck exoskeleton, and one-by-one the scorpions fell into the empty pool. The first assault was failing. It was (as they say) all too easy.

Midnight: “Where the hell is Cal?”

Rog: “I am here for you!”

Midnight: “I didn’t ask that. We need reinforcements.”

Rog: “But we are winning..., aren’t we?”

Midnight (scoring another two hits): “If they can climb down walls, then they can climb up, too.”

Rog: “Do you know that for sure? I would think up is harder than down. It’s possible they’re just falling…”

Midnight: “I know that for sure.” She looked past Rog and into the pool.

As a second wave of scorpions attacked from above, the first began to emerge from below.

It was (as they say) a two-front war.

There's more?

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 6
*************************

Sally meowed.

Cal: “I think that means a storm is coming.”

Midnight: “No shit.”

Cal and Rog looked to Midnight, stunned by this vulgar revelation.

Midnight: “Get over it, and go find some weapons.”

Far above, in the corners of the cavernous hall, swarms of darkness began to move down the wall. What appeared to be shadows were scorpions, and what appeared to be scorpions were scorpions’ shadows. It would have been confusing, if it weren’t so scary.

Rog grabbed Cal. “C’mon, man,” he shouted. “I think I saw a maintenance closet in the front hallway.” Not really knowing what else to do, Cal followed.

In fact, there were two maintenance closets. Rog was wrong again. They opened the first and began to rustle through what promised to be little more than brooms and buckets.

Rog: “So what do you think is going on, man? Some kind of psycho killer stuff?”

Cal: “I don’t know.” Really, how could he know? Scorpions were about to attack, at an abandoned community pool, in the Midwest. “I don’t know.”

Rog: “Yeah, well neither do I. But it’s kind of awesome, right? I mean, scorpions!”

Cal three-peated: “I don’t know.” Rog was right, though. This was kind of awesome.

Rog eventually held up two mops and a tub labeled chlorine. “Well, these are my weapons. I’m taking an extra mop for Midnight. You grab what you want.” He rushed away to at least create the illusion of being the valiant knight. Cal stayed behind to find something that might, you know, serve as a real weapon. Surely the swim meets that had been held here required a secret cache of starter pistols…

The End of the Very Beginning

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 5
********************

“Hey, Midnight.” Rog shouted as he walked back, either ignoring or forgetting about Cal. “I’m back, and I think my note’s a little different.

“I found a new friend, too.”

“Another one?” thought Cal.

Rog stepped out of the hallway and into view, where he bent down to release the final arriver. She stepped forward, looked around a bit, and announced her arrival.

“Mew.”

A calico cat sat, without a hat, her tail gently swaying in greeting.

Cal (to Rog): “You brought your cat?”

Rog: “No, no. The cat was outside the door, pawing to get in. She’s probably a stray who lives here and eats rats.”

Midnight (bending down to greet the cat): “A stray with a collar and a name, eh?”

Rog (embarrassed): “What? Oh, she must have just put her collar on. I don’t usually miss things like that.”

Eyes rolled all around - cat included.

Midnight (bending down to read the cat’s collar): “Hello… Sally.”

Cal: “Whoa. She’s got a more human name than you.”

Midnight (standing up, angry): “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Cal: “Maybe. Do you not like jokes?”

Midnight: “I like jokes that aren’t ignorant.”

Cal erupted, for some reason he wasn’t yet sure of: “And how is a joke about your name ignorant? Did God don you with that name after you saved a small village? Or are all jokes that you don’t like ignorant?”

Rog (defending his queen): “I didn’t like the joke, either. I thought it was crass, racist…”

Midnight (to Rog): “You need to shut up, too, before my ass erodes from your kissing.”

Rog: “I would never do anything to damage your perfect ass, my dearest, unless you compelled me to.”

Midnight “ugh”ed and relocated her attention on the cat. “Looks like Sally is gonna be my only friend here, aren’t you Sally?”

Sally looked up at her, holding one of the notes in her mouth.

“Aww. Isn’t that cute? She wants to be as confused as we are.”

Rog: “I think that’s my note. It has a coffee stain on it, because, you know, I drink coffee.” Again he winked at Midnight. Is coffee supposed to be impressive?

Midnight (reading the note): “Well if it is yours, then it’s the same as mine and that other guy’s.” Apparently Cal was in time-out, where he wasn’t allowed the pleasure of hearing his own name.

Rog: “Whoops. I guess I can be wrong… Hold on, maybe not. My note is still in my pocket.”

Cal: “So I guess the cat drinks coffee, too.” The joke got no reaction. Cal was disappointed, as this was his best line so far.

Rog (confusedly looking at the note he just drew out): “I don’t get it. This one is completely different.”

Cal: “Well, that’s how you said it would be.”

Rog: “No. I mean completely different. I haven’t seen this one before.”

Cal: “What does it say?”

Rog (quoting the note): “Enjoy the scorpions.”

Cal: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Looking to Midnight, Cal realized he was out of time-out, but probably not for a good reason. Midnight was giving him that uncertain look again. “I don’t know, but I have it, too.” She was holding another copy of the new note.

Cal touched his pocket. Something crinkled.

Then something high above them crinkled, in a metallic way, followed by a sound similar to sand being dumped out of a bag. Hissssssssssss.

The sound wasn’t sand. Obviously.