THE RUNAWAY HALLOWEEN BY MOG 'N' KLO CHAPTER ONE As the first waves of the morning began to crash against the steep cliffs, on that cold, cold, fall day, there stood above a small house, a low sound could be distinguished over the boisterous din of the water. A sound not unlike the gentle song of a mocking bird, but at the same time quite different and equally distinct. It is this sound that stirred Lucky from a peculiar dream he had until then become engulfed by. In his dream he gazed deeply over a lucid purple sea while standing on a moist green surface unlike any he had ever experienced. He turned around and was face-to-face with a tall black bunny leaning against an enormous carrot. It was at this moment that he was shaken from his dream by that very low sound. Lucky brushed himself off, and stood. Being a sensible fellow he quietly pondered where he may encounter a fresh cup of coffee, ground on the spot, and grown not twenty yards away, but was rudely interrupted by a shock of reality as he peered outside the elephantine hole in his home and caught a glance of the roaring ocean below. This, of course, was not an unusual sight for Lucky, but he was taken aback all the same. Remembering what had awoken him to begin with, Lucky once more heard the harmonic articulations rising above the sea. He slowly dragged himself out of his shanty-stopping to stretch every few steps. He opened the worn-down door with a loud creak and stepped outside. He drowsily glanced around, spotting a man sitting on the edge of the cliff, dangling his legs over the edge in a nonchalant manner and playing what looked to be a small trumpet. Now this he thought, was an interesting sight. Three nights in the same hole can take its toll on a man's mind, Lucky mused, and he dismissed the trumpeter as a local. All the same he decided to have a word with this trumpeting virtuoso, if only to hear more of his extraordinary play. Now being somewhat certain of the source of the noise breaking the almost completely not silent coastline, Lucky walked with confidence to the man, stuck out his hand, and said, "Wow, was that you playing?" Lucky immediately regretted his statement of the obvious, as the mysterious trumpeter quickly retorted after slowly setting down the tool of his trade, "Of course it was me, are you an idiot or something?" "Oh no," replied Lucky, "I'm just very impressed." "Oh yeah? And just what do you know about music?" asked the trumpeter. "Well, I guess used to do a lot of singing back in the day. Would you mind playing some more for me?" "Eh..Sure. I'm just used to bein' heckled about my playin', you know? People always telling me how good I am when all they wants a lil' money off me." "Sounds like a harsh life. No worries though, man, I'm just looking for a way to relax and have a good time, you know?" "Just like me. How about you break out that old singing voice of yours?" With that Lucky and the slightly less mysterious trumpeter broke down into what could only be described as an impromptu jam session. The trumpeter starting with his melodic and soothing tones, and Lucky harmonizing with the players instrument of brass. The two men sang for a full hour before a crowd of people began to gather around the two players. "Hey! That's pretty cool!" said a kid in a bright red baseball cap. "What a great sound!" remarked an old-timer, and before the two men knew it a pile of loose change and dollar bills began forming next to them. "Wow! There must be like $40 here," said Lucky as his eyes subconsciously began to widen. "Hey, we make a pretty good team," said the trumpeter, equally pleased with their work, "Maybe we should try to take this further?" he continued. "Well, I've got nothing to lose," said Lucky. "Let's do it, then!" exclaimed the still remarkably nameless trumpeter. "Wait, what's your name, man?" said our lovable scamp of a protagonist, in an attempt to alleviate the confusion of the reader. "Jackson. What about you?" Jackson inquired in return. "Me? Well, they call me Lucky." Lucky and Jackson, two upstanding individuals with the highest of moral standards and the cleanest of civil records, decided to make a stop in the local pub to mull over the details of their newly formed musical alliance. After much deliberation over the circumstance of which they would become a powerhouse of the local music industry and make millions upon millions of dollars, the two men realized that they had spent thirty six and change of those millions in The Screamin' Chap. Having only three dollars and twelve cents to their names, they decided they better continue the discussion curbside, and left the fine establishment for a seat by the road. The duet slumped down side by side, and Jackson spoke quite frankly if he did say so himself, "Well, of course, two men isn't really a band," he said. "Yeah, we need some backup. I hear there's a guy over in Twoson who plays a mean piano," remarked Lucky. "Well, let's go check it out! We've got nothing better to do," said Jackson. "Maybe we should set a deadline to get us motivated..." remarked Lucky. "What? That's stupid," replied Jackson. "Yeah, you're probably right, but how else are we going to fit the halloween theme of the funfest?" Lucky commented, thinking himself a realist. Contemplating Lucky's words, Jackson spoke, "I guess you're right. We have to make it big with our new band by the end of the halloween, or we call it off. Deal?" "Deal." "I don't think a little under 4 bucks is enough to catch a bus," said Jackson through an overly dramatized yawn. "We're going to have to make it to Twoson somehow," Lucky stated the obvious, again kicking himself for the error. "You're turnin' out to be pretty good at this obvious stuff, huh, Lucky?" Jackson teased with a poke to the ribs that may or may not have caused permanent damage to the singing voice of one Lucky Roper as testified nearly four years later in Case 0039213 of Eagleland Small Claims Court of Appeals to the honorable Mayor B.H. Pirkle. "Guess so, but someone has to do it. Buses aren't even running through Onett anymore, and all we gotta do is head on down to Twoson. Seems to me that we can just walk it, you know? Get us a little exercise before living the good life." reasoned Lucky with an air of genuine reason. "Fine, but you're carrying my piece." compromised Jackson, gesturing towards his musical instrument. The two men started what would seem like a lengthy quest, but would turn out to be a journey of a little over a mile with two short stops for bickering over which member of a relatively static duo would carry the trumpet that stood as the entirety of this band's equipment. In the end it was Lucky who carried the trumpet, which is of little to no consequence, but made for another juicy piece of evidence in Case 0039213. Much sooner than later the two gentlemen arrived in Twoson with the same amount of cash, but a heightened spirit that would prove to be their greatest asset in their new environment. It was close to Four in the AM when they actually set foot in Twoson, exhausted from the labors of heavy drinking and petty arguing, were in search of a place to rest. "Man, am I tired," said Jackson. "And you didn't even have to carry the trumpet," said Lucky, "but we're out of cash and have nowhere to stay." "You just don't stop with the obvious comments," retorted Jackson. "Well, in all my years as a vagrant I've learned a thing or two about living outdoors," Lucky pointed out, sparking the interest of Jackson, he continued, "We'll find a bench." Leaving Jackson floored, but too tired to complain. Settling down in the confines of a certain Burglin Park, the gentlemen happened upon the perfect little bench to serve as their makeshift European Feather Bed for the night. Plopping down on opposite sides, each man slept sound, but not too sound, as both tended to be the type of person to hog the newspaper on a dreadfully cold night with no consideration for whoever might be accompanying them on the occasion. CHAPTER TWO Gorgeous, fancying himself a realist, knew when he had crossed the line. Gorgeous, also being a misfit and former thief, didn't care a whole heck of a lot. This happened to be the third time this week he had been caught "fooling around" on the job, and as fate would have it, his last. When Gorgeous "fooled around" at work, he was really just experimenting with the equipment, as he tried to explain to his boss as well as he could with a raucous crowd of young people clustered about him. This crowd had formed as Gorgeous was testing out the new shipment of microphones to arrive at The Music Loft™ where he was employed. Gorgeous had, as he was often told, always been one to bask in the limelight, and relished the idea of being the center of an audience. Singing had always been his passion, and sing was exactly what he did when he held that microphone in his hands. Sooner or later a crowd always formed, and sooner or later Gorgeous' boss became a part of that crowd. "Larry! This is the third time this week I've got you slacking off on the job! And it's only Tuesday! And you had yesterday off!" yelled Boss Johnson as he chased away the crowd with a broom. "Aw, come on boss! I'm only testing out the new shipment! And, by the way, it's not Larry. It's Gorgeous," retorted Larr... Gorgeous. "As far as I can tell, what you've been doing hasn't been testing! It's been playing around on company time! I don't care what you do on your own time, especially now since you'll have so much of it! You're fired!" the boss yelled across the room. "Tch, fine, whatever." muttered Gorgeous as he tucked the microphone he was "testing" into his pocket. Gorgeous slumped out of the Music Loft™ and back onto the streets after a solid three week term of employment. Pretty impressive if he did say so himself. Three weeks gave him nearly four hundred dollars to shoot the breeze with, and if there was anything that Gorgeous found himself wanting to put a bullet through it was the breeze. Gorgeous thought to himself, "Now if I could only shoot my bo.." A rumbling noise shook Gorgeous away from thinking things better left unthought, and he realized it was his stomach. Gorgeous couldn't remember the last meal he had sat down for, so he decided to make a stop at the Food Court to replenish himself like he so desperately needed. "Oh man am I hungry," he thought aloud as he walked into the local department store. He walked up to the El Sanchez's Famous Tacos and Burritos stall in the food court and ordered himself the El Presidente which consisted of nine of El Sanchez's secret recipe tacos heavily glazed in a substance that seemed almost edible until you actually attempted to put it in your mouth and found a seat in the food court. "Well, I'm full of food, but I don't got a job and I don't really feel like blowing this nice wad of cash on paying the rent this month...I guess I should probably do the right thing and get myself another job." He though to himself. He got on the escalator to the top floors and found himself outside Eddie's Junk 'n' More Pawn Shop. He took an investigative look at this fine establishment, and walked in. A slender man with the worst teeth Gorgeous had ever laid eyes on gave him the most horrific wink he had ever experienced. These two firsts gave Gorgeous some second thoughts about seeking out another job, as he flashed a sheepish smile at the slender man, and quickly made for the exit. As Gorgeous took the escalator back down to the entrance, he was struck by a whale of an idea. "I know what my problem is," he thought, "I've been kicking up dust in this city longer than I can remember. I've gotta stretch my legs and get the heck outta here!" With that, Gorgeous set out to bigger (smaller) and better (opinion) things in a place called Threed. "I guess I'll just jump on the next bus to Threed!" He didn't even care he was leaving all his stuff back in his apartment. Besides, all he needed was a wad of cash and a microphone. And the microphone he just lifted was way better than the one he had at home, anyway. He walked down to the bus station, because he figured he could stand to loose some weight. He stepped up to the counter only to see all buses to Threed were CANCELLED in big, red, capital letters. "Hey! What's the deal? I mean, canceled is one thing, but CANCELLED?" Inquired Gorgeous in his not-so-subtle manner of speaking. "Well, rumor has it the tunnel to Threed is haunted! The only thing we know about it is the ghosts seem to be afraid of loud noises, if you can figure that one." replied the clerk. "Psh, I'm not afraid of any ghosts, I'll walk to Threed!" stated Gorgeous arrogantly. He set out at a brisk pace towards the Fourside-Threed connecting bridge and made it there in a record 30 minutes for a rotund guy. Not three steps into the tunnel did Gorgeous find himself in the middle of a swarm of ghosts grabbing at him and starring with deep red eyes. "...Aaaaiiiiiieeeeeeee" said Gorgeous in the calmest voice a man suddenly approached by a hoard of ghosts could muster, and very nearly collapsed. Of course, Gorgeous had thought about the possibility of the Ghostly Rumors being true, but he didn't give enough thought to how freaking scary it was to be approached by a ghost. Now breathing very heavily and running out of corners to back into, Gorgeous remembered the words of the random stranger that was kind enough to help develop the plot. Using those words as inspiration, Gorgeous yanked out the Microphone he lifted earlier and started belting into it with all his voice could muster. Now, you may ask yourself exactly how this microphone suddenly added volume to the voice of Gorgeous without a readily available power source or means of amplification. This may be a plothole, or we could just chalk it up to Gorgeous' extreme male virility. You decide. Gorgeous, being in a state of mental trauma, was forced to sing the very first song that came into his mind. Unfortunately for the ghosts, and for you, it happened to be It's Raining Men by the Weather Girls which goes a little something like this: Hi - Hi! We're your Weather Girls - Ah-huh - And have we got news for you - You better listen! Get ready, all you lonely girls and leave those umbrellas at home. - Alright! - It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men! Amen! I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get Absolutely soaking wet! It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! It's Raining Men! Every Specimen! Tall, blonde, dark and lean Rough and tough and strong and mean God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do She taught every angel to rearrange the sky So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men! Amen! It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! It's Raining Men! Ame---------nnnn! The ghosts, being absolutely terrified, quickly fled from the extremely energetic Gorgeous who finished the song with a full out backflip and dive to the ground with his arms fully extended, proceeded through the tunnel and on into the city of Threed slightly exhausted and fully secure in his masculinity. CHAPTER THREE It was something like 12:07 PM when Lucky and Jackson finally pulled themselves from the confines of their pleasant resting place. "So, how'd you sleep?" asked Lucky. "Horribly. First you kept hogging all the newspaper, then I was waken up by a walking mushroom kicking me in the groin so I decided to dispatch of it by eating it, so I was vomiting and talking to trees all night." answered Jackson. "Wow, that's lovely. But let's get back to the task at hand. Where's that pianist you were speaking so highly of?" said Lucky. "Well, I'm not sure. I don't even know his name. I think there's an open mic thing at the club here later. maybe we can scout it for talent and earn a couple of bucks for ourselves." proposed Jackson. Lucky was a bit thrown off by Jackson's lack of organization, but what the man lacked in some fields he made up for in innovation, thought Lucky with the silly smirk of a man that thought he was being clever. "Sounds like a plan," he said to Jackson. "But what do we do until then?" "I guess we can grab a bite to eat and maybe wash up a little." "Sure thing, but shouldn't we do something about that old man that's been starring at us for the past ten minutes?" "Oh? You've noticed too, then? That's good, I thought I was going a bit insane, you know?" "That's quite understandable, he has a slightly bluish tint to him and is giving us just a dreadful look." "I guess we really should do something about him then, shouldn't we?" "Guess so." Jackson said feeling a bit too confident in himself, grasping his trumpet firmly. Lucky lunged at the Annoying Old Party Man, and gave it a quick jab or two before lowering a devastating right hook, turning him back to normal. "Aw man, I didn't even get a single hit in on him!" complained Jackson. "Get over it, Jackko, this guy needs some rest." Lucky retorted. "Thanks fellas, I dunno what was goin' on back there. Just felt a lil' strange, ya know? Man..." and with that the Annoying Old Party Man wandered off to a wife and kids that had until this point been too afraid to even speak with their formerly loving husband and father. The two men went off in search of something they could eat on three dollars and twelve cents. Lucky for them it just so happened to be $1 Mysterious Meat Substance Bag Day down at the local Mystery Meat Barn. So, with their stomaches full of God knows what they set out to make a bit of bonus cash. They set up in the ceter of Burglin Park, the local hangout for shady characters looking for great deals.They started playing their greatest "hits", and sure enough, a crowd started to appear out of nowhere. Like somebody used a "For Sale" sign but for attracting people to throw money at you for performing improvisational music! They had a nice pile of money growing when a man in a yellow flower-print shirt and polka-dot pants leapt off of the small shack at the end of the park and landed with a crack and a scream. He smoothly composed himself and walked with a limp over to our lovable duet and calmly said, "Where's my cut?" "Cut? You telling us we gotta pay you to perform here, buddy?" Jackson said, taking more offense than the average middle-aged brass musician in a similiar situation. "You assume the truth/Like the Canary does sing/Deliver my cash." "...I don't know what the heck you think you're getting at, but I'm not that kind of guy." Lucky sloppily blurted out in a flurry of misunderstanding. "Woah woah woah, I'm just trying to get some cash here, fellows. No need to over-react. I run the park, and request a 10% service charge for all sales made in the park. It's a simple deal, and I hope you guys can understand it." "Well you could have just said that." said Jackson, handing over a few bills to the man in question. "Appreciation/For what has now come to pass/I am proud to show" "Ok, yeah, get away from me, please." Lucky said, misunderstaning the man's words once more. "Hey brother, are you looking for a fight? Because if you are, you're sure tumbling for pummeling." "No, no we're not looking for any fight." reassured Lucky. "Well, guys, I must say I like your style. Now, I heard you guys were looking to make it big from the grapevine. Just so happens I've got your exculsive entry to tonight's open mic night down at the theatre. It's going to be packed, let me tell you." "Oh, that'd be gre... wait, how did you hear us talking about that?" said Jackson. "I've got eyes and ears everywhere. Now are you in or are you out?" Lucky and Jackson looked at eachother in one of the most dramatic moments in recorded history, nodded, and said in unision, "OK." "All right, boys, first I've got a little errand I need you to run for me. I've got two men waiting for you down by the back lot of the theatre an..." "Wait, you had this all planned?" "I'm telling you, boy, I've got eyes and ears all over the place. Now as I was saying, there are two men waiting for you down in the back lot of the theatre, and they'll deliver further instructions for you. I got a good feeling about this, and I think you're up to the task. Be there in exactly an hour, and don't be late. They gonna set you up with everything, so don't ask any questions. Just try and clean yourselves up a little bit, huh? Now go," and with that Everdred turned and walked away, scaling the side of the house and perching back upon the roof as he had before. "Oh man! What do you think that guy's gonna have us do? Whack a guy? Sell his stash? What? WHAT?" Jackson hypothesized in the middle of a public restroom where they were washing up. "Man, this pink powdery stuff isn't even getting my hands clean. Maybe if I had that Lava stuff or something..." Lucky was mumbling to himself. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" "Yeah, sure, off a guy and take his stash, no problem!" "No, I don't think you're get....." with that phrase abruptly interrupted Jackson ran to one of the stalls and started profusely vomiting up his Mystery Meat Bag while yelling curses about mushrooms. "Well, hurry up, we gotta be at the theatre in 20 minutes." As Jackson finished emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor of the public facilities, Lucky yawned and started walking towards the theatre by himself, shouting back to Jackson, "I'm just going to meet you there, alright?", and not being entirely sure over whether or not Jackson had heard, he set off. Lucky felt like his life was finally picking up after living without knowing where his next meal was coming from for so long he felt pains in his stomach when he rememebered those harsh times that were now nearly two whole days ago. Letting out a yawn of mammoth proportions he decided it was best to wait for his partner Jackson before he actually got to the theatre which was already in sight, so he took a seat on the curb and took a shot at the breeze like someone nearly 62 miles away would have loved to be doing at that very moment. Jackson stumbled out of the bathroom and ran to catch up with Lucky, panting from the horrendous task of running after puking your brains out. "Jeeze, Lucky, you could've at least waited for me." "What do you think I'm doing on this curb, chief?" "...Fair enough, let's get going, alright?" "Sounds good to me, just don't hurt yourself, man." and they walked less than a block to the back lot of the theatre. "Oh man, we're here!" worried Jackson.. "Oh man, nothing." said Lucky, feeling good. "Are you boys ready for an ERRAND?" bellowed an exquisetly dressed behemoth of a man through clenched teeth. "Uh, yeah, we are." said Jackson nervoulsy. The man turned around and moved a brick from the theatre and revealed a hidden safe. The man slowly inputted the combination and swung open the safe. Lucky could've sworn he saw the sky go black and heard a clap of thunder, but only for that instant. The man reached in and pulled out a smallish package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with twine. "Deliver this to the location printed on the package before 6 o'clock or you'll live to regret it!" said the man grimacing in the least soothing voice either of our heroes had heard since. CHAPTER FOUR Gorgeous stumbled out of the tunnel and sighed heavily. He counted his blessings and took a seat on the side of the road to try to regain his composure after what seemed like an eternity in that tunnel. He sighed, took a deep breath, and realized that he hadn't opened his eyes since he saw the first ghost back there in the tunnel. Slowly his eyelids peeled themselves open, and immediately snapped back shut as an initial reaction to the horrendous scene that lie in front of him. "Oh man," Gorgeous thought, "If this is what I left Fourside for you might as well count me out", and he wobbled his way into the foresaken city of Threed, very much aware of the air of danger that hung throughout the city like a dead weight dragging his center of gravity towards the ground. "Well, if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere!" thought Gorgeous, looking on the bright side of life. "Time to thrill the crowds with my awesome vocal chords." He glanced around himself and realized there was nobody to be seen for miles as his face bore a look that could only be described as utterly confused. "Huh? What time is it?" He glanced down at his watch and saw it was only 4:30 PM, surely there must be somebody out at this time of day. "Hello? Is anyone out here?" he shouted while walking around aimlessly. He rounded the corner and saw a sultry looking blonde woman in a less-than-concealing dress just standing outside of the hotel. "Jeeze, what's someone like that doing in a place like this," thought Gorgeous, allowing his jaw to drop slightly more than was publically acceptable and slowly approaching the almost eerily attractive woman who's very aura was beckoning Gorgeous to come. As Gorgeous came closer to this stunningly beautiful woman he put a slight swagger into his step and with a voice slightly deeper than the one he normally spoke with he said, "Excuse me do you have a mirror in your pock..." Gorgeous was cut short as the woman snapped her fingers and three of the most terrifying figures he had ever seen appeared out of thin air. "Wooah! What's going on here?" said Gorgeous as he worriedly took a few steps back, but it was too late. A hollow noise rung out as Gourgeous's head was covered in stringy pumpkin intestines. On his journey towards the ground Gourgeous managed to catch a glance of a zombie lording over him with a carved-in Jack O' Lantern and then he was out. It wasn't until an hour later that Gorgeous would wake up to find himself stripped of nearly four hundred dollars in cash and a microphone that he probably didn't deserve to begin with. Nonetheless, this came as quite a shock to Gorgeous considering he had just arrived in what he thought was a small country town outside of the city and was just mugged by the nicest looking theif he'd ever laid eyes on. Confused and hungry, Gorgeous decided it was best to seek shelter somewhere, and headed for what looked to be the center of the town. At first crawling, and then finally mustering up the energy to walk, he approached a large Tent that had been erected for the circus some three years previous. Entering the tent he at least recieved some hospitality, but not until a small man had confused him for a zombie and taken a potshot as his shin. "Arg! I ought to kick your face in and such." Gorgeous threatened while hopping around on one foot while holding his shin. "I'm sorry about that." said a nervous looking middle-aged man. "It's just that we've all been so on edge since these zombies came out of nowhere last month." "Yeah, tell me about it. I just lost $400 and the best mic I ever used to those idiots." "I'm so sorry to hear that. They only took my firstborn." "Eh, yeah. Say, do you know where I can get something to eat and maybe a job, too?" "Jobs are hard to come by around here unless you want to be a delivery boy," said the man with a nervous laugh, followed by a deep sigh that gave Gorgeous the impression that a delivery boy was the absolute last thing he wanted to be. "Well, what exactly is so bad about being a delivery boy..?" Gorgeous said, not entirely sure why he was asking. "What do you think, buddy? Would you like it for your job to be running around out there all day? No one wants to deliver mail, newspapers, pizza, anything. You never really notice how important medial jobs are until no one's willing to do them, you know?" said the man with more confidence than he actually had. "Wow, I guess you're right," said Gorgeous, then thought to himself, "Too bad I don't really care about this crappy town." "Well, I guess I could be a pizza boy or something. I do need a new mic and all." Later that day he walked into Mach Pizza only to find one man shivering behnd the counter. "Uh, I'm looking for a job." "Well, man, you got one!" yelled the man as he threw his Mach Pizza delivery man hat at Gorgeous and ran out of the building screaming and laughing. "Well, I guess that was easy enough." Gorgeous thought to himself and smiled as he placed his new hat firmly upon his head. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Not five mintues had Gorgeous been working at Mach Pizza when he recieved his first call, and second, and third. It was incredible, he must have recieved twenty orders throughout the course of half an hour. It seemed no one was brave enough to leave the house to go to the grocery store or dine out, so they all ordered pizza. Gorgeous was finally beginning to appreciate the words of the man in the tent and just how important this kind of job was. Running out of Mach Pizza with his arms full of pizza boxes, Gorgeous was off to deliver his first orders in 20 Minutes or Less or Your Money Back!® CHAPTER FIVE Lucky and Jackson meandered down the street and away from the theatre slightly more tense than they had been before, tuning the package over and over again and again. "Jeeze, what could it be? Drugs? Laundered cash? Naked pictures of your mother? GAH!" worried Jackson. "Relax, man. I'm sure it's nothing." said Lucky. "Of course it's something! Didn't you see that guy back there?" "Yeah, but..." "Dude, we're gonna be busted and go to jail!" "Just cool it, ok? If it really means that much to you we can take a look inside, then close the package right back up." Lucky reasoned, finding himself to be a cool and collected guy in a tense and difficult situation, pretty admirable, really, considering just how difficult this situation happened to be and everything, he continued thinking. All in all a person could say he was feeling pretty self-righteous and arrogant when Jackson snatched the package out of his hand and tore the brown paper from it with passion. "Gahhhh! What the heck do you think you're doing, man?" Lucky said, trading in his calm and collected attitude for a hectic and brash one in a matter of seconds. "I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT IT...." "What is it?" "Oh motherfuck..." Lucky took a step forward and looked into the hands of Jackson. What he saw would both surpirse, relieve, and terrify him all in a period no longer than fractions of a second. Lying within the confines of Jackson's large hands were three Captain Planet DVDs and Aerosmith's Greatest Hits Volume 2. "....I hate you..." managed Lucky as he grabbed what was once a neatly wrapped package from Jackson's hands. "How was I supposed to know that's what it was?" "DID YOU EVEN LOOK AT WHERE WE WERE DELIVERING IT?" "Well, no, but I mean, did you see that guy?" "...We were supposed to take it to the Polestar Preschool, you dunce." "Gahh! What are we gonna do?" "All right. We're just going to take it to the school and pretend like it was like that when we got it." Lucky tossed the brown paper down on a hippie sleeping on the middle of the sidewalk. No one seemed to care. "Yeah, ok, that could work." agreed Jackson, "But what I don't get is why a Preschool needs Aerosmith's Greatest Hits Volume 2." "Well, I'm sure it's a valuable teaching aid for 4-year-old children." Lucky offered up. "You have to be kidding me. That's like saying cottage cheese is the root of all evil simply because you don't like how the stuff tastes!" "Just shut up, would you?" The two men hurried on to the Preschool, both a little uneasy about the unwrapped package and Jackson, at least, was worried about the educational value of Aerosmith. As they arrived at the school and knocked on the door, a chill shot up Jackson's spine as a young lady not yet fourteen years old answered the door. Now this isn't much of an accomplishment, not even for an apathetic young teenager, but the fact that she opened the door using only the powers of her mind was something that Lucky and Jackson could both appreciate. "Hey guys, what's going on?" said the youth with a smile. "Did you jus...Nevermind." said Lucky, "We've got a package here to deliver for you. Not supposed to say where it came from." "Oh awesome! It must be my Aerosmith CD and those cartoons for the kids!" "Oooooh", let out Jackson, giving a sigh of relief in knowing that Eagleland's educational system hadn't been reduced to feeding it's students subliminal messages in the form of Aerosmith songs. "Hey, thanks a lot for delivering the stuff I ordered," said the girl. "And thank you for not using Aerosmith as an educational tool," said Jackson. "Uh, right. Would you guys like to come in for a drink or something?" "Ah..well, not to be rude or anything, but aren't you a little young for that kind of thing." Lucky asked as innocently as possible. The girl sighed, "I just meant a soda or juice or something." Lucky laughed, "Oh, sure, yeah. We've got some time to blow. How about it, Jacks, you up for a drink?" "When am I not?" Jackson replied, and with that the two friends followed the exceptional girl into the Preschool for a nice cup of tea and a chat. The two men and little girl all sat around a square table in the kitchen in a clear conflict-of-interest situation if there ever was one. "Well, thanks for the drinks," said Lucky. "By drinks I thought she meant scotch or something," Jackson whispered to Lucky. "Shut up," Lucky whispered with a slap upside the back of Jackson's head. "So, we thought we saw you open the door back there without touching it at all," said Lucky in an attempt to turn this uncomfortable moment into a good one. "Oh, that? Yeah, I can use a little bit of psychic power or whatever, it's really no big deal. Are your drinks too warm, because I can cool those off for you if you want?" "Actually, you know what, that'd be great." Jackson said. A blue haze fell upon the room. Wind swirled in from unimaginable places and a very focused ball of clear blue energy materialized around Jackson's glass, freezing it solid. "HOLY CRAP!" Jackson politely inquired to the young lady who had just about killed him, at least as far as he could tell. "Er...sorry about that. I still have a little trouble controlling that one sometimes!" the girl said, a little surprised at her own power. "Jeeze, you said it was no big deal. You're a freaking hurricane, lady." "Wow, that's quite a skill you've got there," commented Jackson, studying his frozen tea and wishing it wasn't so. "So, what's your name, little girl?" inquired Lucky, trying to make it sound as right as possible. "I'm Paula. Who are you guys?" asked the girl. "I'm Lucky and this here is Jackson, and we're the... the..." he struggled to come up with a name for their group on the spot. "The Tonzura Brothers. We're the Tonzura Brothers," chimed Jackson. "What?" "Just go with it." "So what are you guys? A band or something?" asked Paula. "Yes! The greatest Bluesmen since Jake and Elwood performing here in Twoson for one night only!" "Oh, that's awesome! Are you just starting out or something, you don't look like the kind of guys that would be in a band," Paula said, looking at their shanty attire. "Is it really that obvious..? ...Oh, well, yeah. We just started, you know? Looking to make it big!" Said Lucky hopefully. "Well good luck, guys! Are you playing anywhere soon?" "Yeah, actually. We're doing the whole open mic thing down at the Chaos Theatre tonight. We had someone give us the hook-up and everything. You should come to the show. It's going to be a real knockout, man." Lucky explained. "I'll see if I can check it out. It's been cool meeting you guys." "Yeah, you too, Paula." Jackson said as the two men stood and made their way to the door. "I'll see you at the show!" Paula said, and waved as they made their way back to Burglin Park to meet with the man that would be responsible for the night that would follow. "Well, I suppose we should head back to that guy and see what he's up to," said Lucky as the walked out the door. They took they're time walking the several blocks to the park, all while musing about how Paula's extraordinary powers were even possible. They came to the enterance of the park and walked in only to find the place was completely empty. No tables. No people. No extravagant man in the flower shirt and bellbottoms. Lucky and Jackson walked over to the shack and knocked on the door a few times. Before they knew it they heard a crack and a scream come from behind them, and sure enough, there stood the man. "Are you boys ready for your gig?" he said clenching his teeth a little from the pain. "You don't even know if we did it or not," said Jackson. "Of course I do. Eyes and ears everwhere, my man!" "Well that's creepy, but yeah, we've just been talking to some girl at the Preschool and she's coming to see us tonight." said Jackson. "Excellent, fellows. Everything's ready, and you'll be appearing at 8:45. Get your things together, and don't be late." Everdred said, beginning once more to scale the side of the building. "Wait, hey. What's going on here in the park? Why's it so empty?" Lucky asked. "Park's closed for the day. Go get some rest and stop reading into things so deeply. It'll do you some good." CHAPTER SIX Gorgeous stepped out of the door, a sense of caution creeping down his spine, and glanced at the addresses jotted down sloppily on his left hand. His first delivery of the night would be to the North end of town, by the Graveyard. "Oh good," Gorgeous thought, and shivered as he made his way down the narrow streets leading through the haunting site that was Threed at early evening. In fact, Threed was a relatively haunting site no matter what time of day, but it just so happened to be early evening as Gorgeous crept his way past city block after city block of horrendously quiet Threed. Gorgeous crept out staying in the shadow, despite the fact that it increased how extremely horrified he happened to be feeling at that moment. His journey through the alleys of Threed led him up to a couple of trash cans. He tried to slink past the foul smelling containers, but one started wriggling with what was sure to be thousands of years of angst and evil when a filthy, tire looking ghost popped out. Now Gorgeous, having literally hours of experience with the paranormal through such films as Ghost Busters, knew exactly how to deal with the situation. "Aaiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee," Gorgeous shouted, flailing his arms about his body and running in large, looping, circles. The Smelly Ghost grinned in what could have been mistaken for malice, and slumped back into it's trash can, realizing that Gorgeous was a man that meant business. Gorgeous, seeing the ghost make it's retreat, was utterly stunned. His heart beating far faster than recomended by the Eagleland Heart Council suddenly leapt two feet into his throat and he collapsed hard onto the pavement, out cold. He woke up several hours later in a hotel room. He sat up and glanced around the room and noted the modest furnishings. Couch, painting, dried flowers. Everything was in check. Except the same blonde woman from before was there with her zombie pals. "Ah, jeez," said Gorgeous as they encroached on him and knocked him out yet again. He woke up several hours later, once more, short three pizzas and a pair of pants and a wondering why they waited for him to wake up again to rob him blind. It was at this moment that Gorgeous finally started to realize what a grave mistake leaving Fourside had been. Sitting, pantless and broke, he decided to cut his losses and head out of Threed. Gorgeous knew that he couldn't return to Fourside in his current condition, so he decided to make his way to the next town over, Twoson. How he was going to do this was something that he'd rather not think about, considering his current state. Laying back down and resting his head on the curb he began to wonder whether or not the police in Twoson would really mind that he wouldn't be wearing any pants when he showed up in their city. Despite all of the adversity Gorgeous faced, he couldn't help but allow himself a chuckle when he imagined the look on the face of a stern Chief of Police greeted by an out of luck city slicker that had lost his own pants. With that he sunk back down into the gutter and fell asleep. : He woke back up about 15 minutes later thanks to a No Good Fly sucking his soul out through his arm. He dispatched the fly with a quick slap and modified a nearby plastic bag to make due as a makeshift pair of pants deciding he'd done enough walking for a day he jumped into the nearest vehicle availible. to be continued........