I went out to get a soda because I was cravin' one a bit. When I reached the machines that had the soda, I got a vanilla coke.
I drank that coke. I smoked that cigarette. Then the officer came to me and said, "Watar you doin'?"
and I said, "HAVIN' A POP LULZ" and he said, "KOOL THX" and left.

My fists were diamonds for it was a tad brisk.

There's a club near my house called 'Stargate' populated by cell phone humping hipsters. I got in my ship and shot 'em all down.

I went out to get a pop, I was craving one a bit. But what I did not know,
is that it would shit. And put in my way an icebound path, What I
did not know is that it would snow and glow hot light onto my path.

CoCaCoLa1969

Went out to get my pop I did,
and when I did I sure blew my lid!
at the crack-a-lac, !
at the crack-a-attack !
I cracked my cola I did.

The officer's K-9 was barking at me incessantly during the conversation, I played it off, stoned off my ass. Was the dog barking at my stoned aura? Did he want to eat the cores of my wrists to power up at home? Would my fists ever be de-diamondized up the ionized civilized?

Only about 35 fahrenheit, low headwinds.
Distant cigarettes buzzing at the bar.

 

 

From a point-blank range, the blowout is intense. It blasts through like the birth of the bastard child of of WD-40 and dynamite. Picture that for a second. Let it sink it. Which ironically is the part that happens next.

If you're sitting there wanting to watch it hit post-blow, from this angle, get the hell out of the way. What are you doing, man? You got no time. It's probably already hit you. It's almost impossible to see it at this angle unless you're doing something wrong, something non-standard. And honestly, you'd have to be one sick son of a bitch to be there, in that spot. Hell, I think there's a fetish for this. You discover that it exists on accident, and it's cleverly disguised.

Let's just say you got out of the way in time. Great. I'd say the worst part is over, but you got a splash to deal with, and it can be a real dick. It's the same type of explosion as before, but in the opposite direction, and more wet. If you're lucky. Oh god if you're lucky.

My sister once called the part The Tickler. It's a lot better for girls, I think they get a kick out of the action for obvious reasons, if the angle is right, if the shock is good enough. You have to work with physics, this is a science. And if you've got a dude staring at the point of expulsion you won't even get to this part. But maybe that's your thing, you're into that. That's fine, dude. I guess. Just don't cleverly name videos of it across the net so I stumble upon it with full wood and a head full of Expectations.

This part is the relief, the calm of the storm. The whole process can kick out two, three, eight of these, depending on your situation, what you're working with and prepared for. It's like a hurricane with multiple eyes, with gale force winds. If this was a film it would be a multi-act high-octane thriller. For real men, this is a Michael Bay flick, and it's one hell of a ride.

You ain't done. You've got to clean up. This is simple shit, they teach this to kids, but most people who try this do it wrong, don't get enough, and men like me pay for it later with cuts to the area, dirty zoning like some sort of sick version of cleaning up weeds in Animal Crossing. You have to get in there when you're on janitor duty post-drop. Some stay sitting for this. I can't do that. I've got to get on my feet, concentrate, and dig in for the kill. Be a man about it. You think James Bond sits idly by and sort of dabbles the area? Fuck you. This man lives and dies by the bullet, and he'll risk taking one himself to get the job done, to solve problems.

Now get up and flush and be sure to hit the air freshener on the way out. Don't be a dick.

 

 

"Sir, something coming in on the radar." A technician spoke up.

"What direction, Allen?" asked Tarn. Tarn was the head of security for the 3rd quadrant of the Grand Laboratory, a massive hovering fortress used primarily for scientific research stationed above the young nation of Dumat, founded to escape laws restricting certain types of scientific research.

"Coming from the north, sir. At a speed of about 120 kilometers per hour." Allen replied.

"And the size?" Tarn followed. He put out his cigarette on the ash tray built into the arm of his chair in the center of the command room. "If its another tourist plane just radio them and tell them to fuck off." He immediately pulled another cigarette from his case and struck a match.

"It's smaller than a plane. I'm surprised the radar was able to pick it up, really."

"That's gotta be the machine messing up". Tarn lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"No, sir, its been maintaining a steady speed."

"Well what the hell is it then? Is it close?"

"It will be within the danger perimeter in six minutes, sir."

"Can we make radio contact?"

"No sir, no reply from it." Answered the radio technician.

"The hell is it?! Can we get a picture?" Tarn yelled as he stood up and approached the video technician.

The video technician said nothing as she adjusted her cameras to match the radar signal. It managed to pick up a small metallic blur at the very tip of a long cloud of what appeared to be steam. "It appears to be a missile, sir!"

"SHIT! SHOOT IT DOWN!" Tarn yelled as he quickly inhaled half of his cigarette. He flicked the butt to the floor and drew another from his case.

"Should we sound an alarm, sir?" the video technician asked.

"NO! HELL NO! I don't want anyone knowing I let a missile get THIS close to the base without anyone even noticing where it came from! Shoot it down before 2nd quadrant picks it up!" Tarn demanded. His team began to tap away at their computer consoles and two small rockets entered the video screen, heading for the missile. "As soon as that thing goes down tell the central office that we picked up an unknown enemy craft to our north." Tarn said as he turned from the screen and moved back to his chair.

"It dodged it!" The video technician screamed.

"WHAT!?" Tarn yelled as he spun and looked at the video screen. Sure enough, the missile had dodged the first rocket which streaked harmlessly away into empty sky. The second rocket was fast approaching, but Tarn knew somehow that it would not do any good. Cursing what must have been a newly developed sixth sense, he collapsed in his chair as he watched the rocket collide with the missile, but instead of exploding, it took a sharp turn straight down and began to spiral out of control. He took a deep drag off his cigarette, cupped his hand over his forehead, and leaned back. "Tell central office that we've got something heading our way at 120 kilometers per hour that just punched an interceptor rocket out of the air. And Regina, tell me as soon as you can get a closer view of that thing."

"And an alarm, sir?" Asked Allen.

"Yeah sure, hit it. Whatever." Tarn replied. The room turned to a dim red and the sirens began to belt their obnoxious song all over the 3rd quadrant. Tarn put out his cigarette and placed another in his mouth, closing his eyes as he lit it and took another humongous drag off of it. "God damn it." He said.

"SIR! ITS INCREASED SPEED!" Yelled Allen.

"SON OF A! HOW FAST?" Tarn hollered as he was startled out of his moment of relaxation and nearly fell out of his chair.

"I… I can't tell!" Allen replied.

"VISUAL! GET THAT THING ON VIDEO!" demanded Tarn.

"I'M TRYING, SIR!" Regina answered. "It's all over the place! The automatic turrets picked it up and now it's weaving in and out of the beams!" The camera zipped around following the object as it ripped around the sky dodging glowing strands of hopelessly useless energy bolts. For a brief moment, it stopped. It stopped and hovered for a brief moment, and took off again and it would have seemed like teleportation if it didn't leave a vapor trail.

"REWIND THAT! WE HAD A CLEAR SHOT!" Tarn growled. The screen flicked to black and then back to a still frame. A humanoid shape, clad in metal, wielding a sword as wide as it's leg, strapped to the front of a pair of rockets. "Oh god it's a fucking superhero! Send that to central IMMEDIATELY!We need that guy identified PRONTO!"

"It's Steam Crusader, sir!" Adams spoke up.

"Who!?"

"Steam Crusader. He um, is able to compress and expand water at will, and he uses that to power that massive suit of armor for him."

"Compress water? How the hell?"

"I know, sir, but uh, he can do it."

"Is this guy a major leaguer or what?"

"Not really, I mean, he usually sticks to just the Vatican but he sometimes teams up with a few others like Falcon Cerberus and Stardu-"

"Shut up! Christ! Where is he now!?"

"He's out of camera range, sir." Regina answered.

"So he's probably wailing on the side of the hull right now, right!? Fuck! FUCK FUCK FUCK! WHY NOT TOMORROW?! I WAS OFF TOMORROW!" Tarn bitched as his cigarette fell out of his mouth and on to the floor. He stepped on it and began to prepare another one.

"Sir, communications with central have been cut off!" the communications technician announced.

"WHAT!?" yelled Tarn as his newly lit cigarette fell out of his mouth. He tried to catch it but it hit the floor anyway. He bent over to pick it up.

"It sounded like heavy interference."

"How much does central know!?" Tarn placed his cigarette back in his mouth and began to pace back and forth.

"That something is heading here, sir."

"Oh for fucks sake, they could read that as anything! We need to tell them who it is!"

"All channels seem to be blocked, sir!"

"GOD DAMNIT! PRINT IT OFF AND RUN IT THERE YOURSELF! TELL THEM! TELL THEM WE NEED HEAVY TROOPS IN 3RD QUADRANT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE WE HAVE A SUPERHERO CRASHING THE GATES!"

"Sir, that will take over an-"

"GO GO GO! DO IT! TAKE A TRANSPORT! STEAL IT! I DON'T CARE! THIS IS A TOTAL FUCKING EMERGENCY AND AS QUIET AS THINGS HAVE BEEN AROUND HERE THE LAST TWO YEARS NOBODY IS READY FOR THIS SHIT! MOVE! GO!" Tarn screamed as he ripped a printed report out of the printer (which had been there for half an hour and was not of any importance) and slammed it into the communication technician's chest. He then grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out of his chair before shoving him towards the door. "EVERYBODY GET READY! ALLEN, FIND OUT OF THERE'S MORE COMING! REGINA, OVERRIDE A SENTRY ROBOT AND TRACK HIM DOWN! IF ITS GOT A CAMERA ON IT, THEN I WANT IT TRYING TO SNAP PICTURES OF HIS ASS, GOT IT!? DANNY, I WANT EVERY TROOPER IN THIS QUADRANT ON STANDBY READY TO JUMP THIS ASSHOLE ON A MOMENT'S NOTICE!" Tarn turned towards the door to find the communications technician still standing by the door, staring at him. "OH MY FUCK! GO GO GO GO GO! GO! IF YOU DON'T GO NOW I'LL SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE! GO!" Tarn ripped the ash tray out of its holder on his chair and whipped it at the technicians head, who quickly ducked and ran out the door.

Tarn saw it in his mind. Steam Crusader ripping around his quadrant, destroying important research, slaying doctors and test subjects, mowing down hundreds of technicians and sons of technicians that just run around delivering documents and cups of coffee. He didn't yet know the full scale of this disaster, however. He didn't know that he was not safe sitting in his control room issuing orders. He had no idea that this day was going to be the darkest day in his country's history for a long time to come. Nobody knew this.

 

 

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?" Taint yelled as he threw open the door to his father's garage. Inside he found his dad's buddies, all retired explorers, with various musical instruments, in various states of surprise and jamming.

As the sour notes evaporated from the air, all of the old men in the garage let out an uproarious "EEEYYY!" and raising of fists to their new visitors as the crew of the Air Grumpkin filed in behind Taint. Topaz and Valk showed minimal interest in the happenings in the garage, but Myen's mind was thuroughly blown.

"Haha! Who the hell are these people, kid?" A man asked. Anyone seeing both Taint and this man in the same spot, regardless of how poor their deductive skills may be, would instantly recognize them as father and son.

"Hah! I've got a crew now!" Taint answered as both men extended their arms for a hug and moved in for each other, but it quickly turned into a contest to see who could slap each other in the face first.

"What? Nobody's dumb enough to be your crew, how'd this work out?" Taint's dad asked as he landed a solid blow above Taint's ear, winning the contest, making the score 135 to 14 in his favor.

"We didn't have a choice." Topaz interrupted. "We were all assigned to his plane for an expedition, before the Designated Crew Act was put in to effect."

"When we finally got back two weeks later, Taint's plane was the only one without an assigned crew." Valk finished. The band tore open into a fit of old man laughter.

"Allright allright, come on." Taint said waving an arm at the retirees. He turned and pointed to his crew. "Allright, this tall fucker is Valk, the dude of harsh situations. The girl is Topaz, she mostly gets in the way when im about to kill us all. And the kid here is Myen, primary expedition asskicker."

The crew gave short greetings as they were intorduced and summarily backed up to find things to lean or sit on. "Okay, now, on drums we have Moody, on Gauss Guitar is Embar Phepps of the Phepps Twins, the guy standing there using the broomstick for a microphone is Walko Phepps of the Phepps Twins, the man with the Acoustic in his death grip is Ted the Gecko, and I dont know what the hell that guy is messing with but that's my dad Blues."

"It's a Pressure Harp, dipshit!" Blues snapped.

"What the fuck is a Pressure Harp?! This is new shit! This is information I do not have!" Taint yelled.

"It's a revolution, you little puke! This is awesome! This information is important to YOUR future, THEIR future, and the future of music as we know it!" He yelled as he flipped a switch with his foot, causing a hydraulic pedal to rise to shin-height from the bottom of the long curved pipe. He mashed on it with the ferocity of a man who was hell bent on avenging the murder of his entire family, twisted a small valve at the top lightly, and ran his fingers across the long silver strings extending from top to bottom on the inside of the curve. It produced a sound resembling a bass guitar having long, passionate sex with two hot bagpipes he picked up at the bar. The rest of the band joined in and performed for the four adventures a song titled "Soaring Knuckles". It ruled.

Afterwards, the band packed up and headed either home or to the bar, leaving the crew and Blues alone for the rest of the night.

"So what brings you down, kid?" Blues finally asked as he opened the door from the garage to the kitchen.

"We're wondering where Medusa is at." Taint said as he followed. He went straight for the cabinets and began to search for snacks.

"You're in luck, she's in town next week. Investingating some mess at the Arms refueling station down by the strips."

"REALLY!? Badass! I thought I was going to have to chase her ass all over the kingdom!" Taint said as he grabbed a few handfuls of bagged peanuts. He held one pack in his lips and threw the rest at his crew.

"BLUES, WHO'S THAT?" A voice from somewhere inside the house shrieked. To anyone that heard it, regardless of how poor their deductive skills may be, would instantly recognize the voice as belonging to someone who is monsterously overweight. With a few seconds to think about it, they could also deduct that it belonged to Taint's mother.

"IT'S ME, MA!" Taint hollered back while leaning towards the hallway.

"TAIIINT! COME HERE AND GIVE ME A HUG!" She yelled back. Taint moved towards the hallway, followed slowly by Topaz. Taint stopped her and pointed back to where she came from. Neither of them had any sort of telepathic powers, but Topaz very clearly heard Taint's voice in her head say "No. You do NOT want to see this blob of a woman". This was pretty much all she could think about for the rest of the night. Light conversation could be heard from the back room, but not clearly enough to understand what was being said.

"So what's it like flying around with my son?" Blues asked, breaking the silence in the kitchen.

"UH, oh, uh," Valk muttered.

"It's hectic." Topaz said. She began to wonder how long it would be before something blew up, but her thoughts quickly returned to just how hideous Ma Bigsby could be.

"I love it!" Myen said after it became clear that his crewmates weren't too interested in starting conversation. "I've gone on quite a few expeditions for my age, and king's ass, some of those guys are just PUSSIES."

"HA! Damn right! Fuckers just fly out to places guys like me have already picked over and try to shake the last two drops out of the mug!"

"Exactly! What's the point? It's been done! If you want to see something NEW you have to fly out longer than a day or two!"

"Half of those fuckers are afraid of hostile sasquatch tribes or some big fuckoff lizard eatin' planes right out of the sky! Fuck that! Drop dynamite on the bark cheweres, and ignore the lizard entirely! That's retarded superstition!"

"Fucking lizard!"

Yeah. Hey man you want a drink or something?"

"Whatcha got?"

"Mostly New Old Fister, uhhh," Blues opened the liqiour cabinet. "Oh, some home-made grime from the Phepps Twins, and some Slum Tulip for the old bag."

"Shot of Fister."

"Good man! What about you two?"

"Fister." Valk replied. Topaz didn't answer.

"Fister, and.... fuck it, Tulip?" Blues said, leaning into the cabinet and grabbing the fifth of Fister and some shot glasses. he set them on the table, reached back in, grabbed the handle of Tulip, and two bottles of Phepps grime. He set the handle and one bottle of grime down before hucking the remaining bottle down the hallway while yelling "CATCH!". the bottle bounced off the wall and crashed on the floor, spraying its foamy contents and glass shards all over.

"DAMNIT BLUES! WHAT WAS THAT?!" Ma screamed.

"Ohhhh noo!" Taint said in a let-down sort of voice as he left his parents bedroom. "Dad! Was that grime?!"

"Yeah." Blues answered.

"CLEAN IT UP!" Ma followed.

"Damnit dad, don't waste that stuff!" said Taint, as he came back to the kitchen. He grabbed the fifth of Fister, spun the cap, flicked it into the corner of the room, and took a pull straight from the bottle.

"So what do you need Medusa for?"

"Fake IDs, free entry into some tournament held by the Arms, where the tournament is at, and possibly some hints on how to bypass security and steal whatever the grand prize is."

"Awesome. Take Moody with you."

"The hell for?"

"Moody's good at that sort of thing. Infiltration."

"Whatever, sure". Taint took another big gulp of fister, and sat the bottle down. He reached in to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Grime, cracked it open on the edge of the counter and sat down at the table. He grabbed a nearby newspaper and began to read it, never once realizing it was the same issue he bought before leaving Grault.

They all sat around and drank for the rest of the night. Myen, Taint, and Blues each drank to the point of amazing stupor while Ma bitched about them drinking all her Slum Tulip. Valk had a few shots and began to scope for a place to sleep while Topaz nursed a single glass of Tulip for the next two hours. She parked herself on the couch in the living room, and smiled at the fact that meeting most of Taint's family hasn't been life threatening in the slightest. Her smile was killed by the sudden image of a gigantic, warty pile of blubber ontop a permanently compressed bed mattress screaming at Blues to bring her dinner popping into her head.

 

 

The Air Grumpkin rolled to a rattly hault as it pulled the mostly in-tact remains of a shed along underneath it. Taint lept out of the plane's side door without using the stairs and quickly became aware of a fist, the owner of which also happened to own a shed until very recently. He reeled back but managed to keep his balance.

"WHY DID YOU HIT MY BOOTH?" The fist's owner shouted in an strange accent that is carried by anyone whose direct ancestors were part of the king's attendants before his quick and much appreciated death. For the sake of simplicity, imagine it's Italian. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD, TAINT BIGSBY!"

"FUCK YOUR SHED, MAN, WHY DID YOU HIT ME?" Taint replied before righting himself and taking a look at his assailant. "Ah, FUCKING hell! The fuck are you doing in Hawk Jaw?"

"We have set up our ground support from here as we travel to the west, And you, Taint, have demolished what was to be our radio booth." He answered, crossing his arms as his comrades filed up behind him, looking like the final competitors in an asshole pageant.

"RADIO BOOTH!? IT- THE F- WH- IT WAS ON THE RUNWAY, ASS!"

"WE WERE TOWING IT TO A VANTAGE POINT, UNTIL YOUR BUMBLING SELF CRUSHED IT WITH YOUR... JUNK HEAP OF A PLANE!"

"VALK! TOSS ME A STICK NOW." Taint hollered up at the plane's door.

Valk leaned out holding a stick of dynamite, and before tossing the stick to Taint asked "Who's this guy?"

"Jean Lucca, explorer!" Jean announced, and shot a gaze at Valk that would intimidate anyone who had not spent a significant amount of time aboard the Air Grumpkin. Valk half sneered, half chuckled, and kicked the rack of stairs down to disembark the plane. Taint dug around in his pockets for a lighter. Myen and Topaz began to unload the crew's personal baggage.

"Hah! So you have a crew now, Taint?" Jean asked as he looked back to his own crew, who were beginning to get restless, itching for a fight.

"Yeah, I do. They're cool. Where the fuck's my matches?" Taint answered as he re-checked his pockets. Topaz and Myen finished unloading the bags and lifted the stair rack back into the plane before turning to face Jean and his crew. Topaz backed up a bit behind everyone else as Myen and Valk lined up to either side of Taint, still looking for a light.

"So, What's going on here?" Valk asked.

"Your pilot crushed our radio booth." answered one of Jean's crew.

"It looks fine, Can't you just like, pull it out and tip it back over?" Myen said as he looked back towards the shed. It was most definitely banged up pretty bad, but with a few additional support planks and nails, it could service perfectly by the standards he's learned to accept when Taint is involved. However, Jean, being descended from a family who had lived alongside the King in all his wicked glory, whole heartedly believed that his shed was completely trashed beyond hope. Taint turned around and walked up to the plane's nearest engine. and began to fiddle with a panel.

"That shed WILL be replaced, and it WILL be replaced TODAY, if you value how your faces are currently arranged." Jean threatened. His crew lined up next to him. Even with Topaz, who was briskly walking away from the imminent rumble, Jean's crew outnumbered Taint by four. What started off as two lines quickly became two men back-to-back and a circle around them.

"My ass we'll replace it." Valk yelled before shoving Jean backwards. Jean's men closed in, fists ready to crush down on Valk and Myen, but were quickly stopped by a cheerful "HEY-HEY!"

Taint had managed to pry off the panel to his engine, and touched the fuse of his dynamite off on a very hot part of his plane. "Who's up for a party?" He asked, before being tackled to the ground by an agent of the Arms Party.

Another agent quickly scooped up the dynamite and threw it far enough away from the runway to cause no significant damage. Meanwhile, several more agents managed to drive a wedge between the two quarreling crews and ordered each of them to leave the runway in opposite directions before force would have to be used. The airport's staff quickly began to clean the runway of fresh dynamite debris and chunks of demolished shed as they towed the Air Grumpkin off to a tarmac for fuel and maintenance.

 

 

"Attention pilot, please do not approach the runway until you are cleared to land. *click*"

"Fuck that."

"...What? *click*"

"I said 'fuck that'. I'll land where I want to land."

"Um... what is your plane's registration and your lisence number? *click*"

"Plane registration is B fifty-seven X X seven, lisence number is T sixty-seven dash zero nine three."

"T sixty-seven dash zero nine three? *click*"

"That's right."

"SHIT. *click*"

"Haha! Figured it out, huh?"

"I... I... don't think im ready for this. T-this is my first week. *click*"

"First tell everyone to get the hell off the runway. Far away from the runway."

"Um okay. *click*"

"Okay uh they're clearing it pretty fast. *click*"

"Good, now, send someone to Grilldo's and have them prepare my special."

"Grilldos? Isn't that in Grault? *click*"

"Ah shit, you're right. Wheres a good place to eat in this hole?"

"YOU'RE CLIPPING THE TREES! *click*"

"HOOOOOO SHIT!"

"Let's focus on landing, okay? *click*"

"DON'T GET COCKY WITH ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to prevent a wreck! *click*"

"AND I'M TRYING TO LAND! CRIMENY!"

"Allright! Fine! The runway is clear! Land already! *click*"

"Fuckin' hell! Can't I ever land in this town without it turning into some bigass spectacle?"

"LOOK OUT! *click*"

"Son of a FUCK! Why was there a shed there!?"

 

 

"Ah, for fucks sake." Taint said as he kicked around in the dead leaves covering the forest floor. "Who the fuck throws a lighter?" he asked himself. The answer was Taint Bigsby throws lighters, but he hated that answer. Two minutes earlier, he threw it instead of a stick of dynamite in a fit of anger brought on by Valk being himself. Fourteen feet behind him was a black and smoldering smear on the ground.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!" he yelled. "I traded half a fucking hog for that! King's ass!"

"What about it?" Topaz asked, trying to annoy Taint further.

"It's got bedsores." He replied. "From sitting on his throne. Also it's shitty. The King has a shitty ass. Plus, he's dead."

"Oh." Topaz finally said after a 30 second pause. She looked down, kicked a fallen branch a few inches, and jammed both hands into her coat pockets. "It's too cold. Let's go back to the plane." she suggested.

"No. Fuck that. Valk pissed me off and thats why we're out here looking for my lighter." Taint said, before turning around and looking deeper into the forest. He thought briefly of bears jumping out of bushes and mauling hikers, not because he suspected there was a bear nearby, but because he thought that sort of thing was awesome. Simultaneously, Taint and Topaz looked down, straight at the lighter, sitting neatly atop a small mound of dirt.

"There it-"

"FOUND IT!"

"Yeah, it was right-"

"HELL YEAH!!" Taint yelled. He scooped up his lighter, did a short hop onto a nearby tree stump, threw both fists into the air and brought them down in a flex before going "GYARRRRRRR!"

 

 

Taint sat in his makeshift bed in the passenger area, a chair in the back draped with blankets and pillows underneath, with extra padding and boards wedged underneath at an angle to make sort of a stationary hammock of sorts. His mind was boiling with so many plans to break in to this stupid tournament and steal whatever it is they're giving to the winner. His main problem was that he knew he couldn't do it with his normal tactics. More than the nessescary amount of dynamite to bust open a locked door, or a vault, or a table, or just in the middle of a hallway for fun, and the jig is up. They'll know it was him and they'll hunt his ass down. Toss him in jail or just tie him to a rock and pitch it in to a lake. He didn't even think about what they'd do to his crew, the poor bastards.

Taint drifted off in to sleep as his plane began to drift downwards into a steady descent towards the forest below. Most crews have a co-pilot to prevent this sort of thing, keeping an eye on the altitude and whatnot as the pilot sleeps, but not Taint. He's devised his own little warning system to keep him aware, at all times, the condition of his plane. As the Air Grumpkin steepend its angle, a hammer tied to a rope, sitting on a shelf in the back of the passenger area, slides off, swings through the air by the rope and collides with a frying pan hanging on the wall. With this, Taint hops up and scuffles to the controls, bringing the aircraft back to an angle that doesn't invite another batch of forest crazies to declare his plane to be someone elses or steal his beef jerky, like a bunch of assholes. He wedges his autopilot stick underneath the yoke, replaces the hammer on its shelf, checks his compass, and examines his map to confirm that theyre on the right course, towards Hawkjaw.

Morning breaks, and Taint is awakened by laughter and dry heaves coming from the crew's cabin. "WHAT THE HELL?" he yells and kicks his blankets around like a flailing mutant infant before jumping to his feet and running back to the quarters. Opening the door, he finds Valk on his knees, catching his breath as Myen and Topaz are on the tail end of a throat burning fit of extreme giggles. "The fuck is going on in here?" He asks.

"MYEN GAVE VALK A DUTCH OVEN!" Topaz manages to yell inbetween snorting laughs.

"A dutch oven? Fuck the dutch oven! That's an amateur's work!" Taint yells while pointing at Myen. "But, I will give you credit for making Valk almost toss his breakfast before he even ate it."

"Fuck you guys." Valk says as he crawls back up on to his bed.

"That's the craziest thing, really. It didn't even smell. It was just my ass in proximity to his face, and I guess the wind that just blew his fucking sensors." Myen explained as he leaned back in his bed.

"Well, im glad you chuts are up, We're going to visit my dad." Taint says. The room goes quiet.

"Your dad?" Topaz finally asks.

"Yeah, we gotta talk to him to find out where the fuck my sister is at, and then find her so she can figure out where this damned tournament is, and THEN finally go to the bitch and steal everything without making it too obvious that I was there."

"Holy shit we all thought your dad was dead!" Valk announces.

"The fuck kind of assumption is that? That is an asshole's assumption." Taint replies.

"Well shit, you have his old fake leg mounted on the wall above the cockpit door, and every time you look at the thing you hush up and look all serious." Topaz says.

"I fucking swiped that thing last time I visited him, like a year ago or something. Pretty much before I met you three. It was a prank and after I horked it I realized that it really wasn't as funny as I thought it was going to be. I mean, 'hey ive got his fake leg, now he has to use crutches. Big shit'. It's a reminder to myself," Taint says solemnly, "TO THINK SHIT OUT! And THAT is why we're going to see him and find Medusa so she can help us, otherwise we're dealing with a coarse tit."

"Medusa?" Valk asks.

"My sister."

"How will she help?

"Ha, glad you asked! Beeeecaauuuse, she's in the arms party!"

Everyone interjected with "what"s and "holy shit"s and "whoa whoa whoa"s before Taint could continue with his explanation

"Basically what she's doing is awesome as all fucking hell. She's using a fake name, and is working in the Arms Party anti-corruption agency. Her job basically is to research all the information and whatnot flowing through the Arms, sniff out anything fishy, and report it to the head dudes."

"So she's going to give us the location of the tournament?" Myen asks.

"Fucking YEAH! She's also going to register us in the bitch, with fake names she'll make up because, honestly, I'll just pick the dumbest names poss-" CLANG "FUCKING PLANE! STAY STRAIGHT! KING'S ASS AND THE SHIT THAT COMES OUT OF IT!" Taint yells as he runs to the cockpit to steady the yoke, replace the hammer, and reconfirm their course. The crew replaces their sleep clothes for their standard attire and prepare breakfast before landing in the giant gaping hawk-like cavern in the side of a mountain, famous for its many plane manufacturing tarmacs and new experiments in aviation, as well as its many bars. Hawkjaw, the only city in the kingdom drunk enough to deal with both Taint and his dad at the same time.

 

 

"WE GOT RIPPED OFF." Taint yelled as he slammed the door to Grilldo's open and walked to a booth along the back wall. His crew followed behind and no longer worried about keeping a low profile since there was ony two other people in the restaurant. "DAMN. TERRY!" Taint yelled as he pulled a menu out from behind the napkin dispenser. He scanned over it breifly and snapped his vision towards the kitchen door. "TERRY!" He yelled louder.

"WHAT!?" a voice shot out as the door swung open to reveal a bald, heavyset man with a five o'clock shadow and a stained apron.

"I GOT RIPPED OFF."

"BY WHO?"

"THE FUCKING ARMS!"

"NO SHIT? HOW?"

"I HAULED A BUNCH OF SHIT OUT OF THE CRATER OF ALL PLACES FOR LIKE A WEEK'S WORTH OF SUPPLIES AND OTHER SHIT THAT YOU'D ONLY NEED ONCE IN A YEAR. CAULK! THEY GAVE ME THREE FUCKING TUBES OF CAULK!"

"YOU'RE NOT GIVING ME CAULK FOR A MEAL."

"FUEL VOUCHER?"

"...THE FUCK YOU WANT TO EAT?"

"Ah, shit. I didn't really look. Hang on. What do you guys want?" Taint said and pointed at his crew.

"We already ate, remember?" Topaz said. "A water would be okay though."

"Like hell! I'm giving that ass a fuel voucher for a meal for four and you just want a water? You're going to have the special. TERRY! WHAT'S THE SPECIAL!?"

Terry pushed open the door again and stood halfway in it. "YOUR SPECIAL OR MY SPECIAL?"

"What th-KINGS ASS! Terry the fucking arms are probably watching me right now do NOT bring up my special." Taint stammered out as he sat up and looked around the restaurant. "Screw it bring us some.... roasted.... whatever. Damnit."</p>Fifteen minutes later four dishes of roasted something-or-other was served up, which went mostly untouched by everyone except for Taint, who after finishing his own plate began to casually pick off of everyone else's plates while looking over his newspaper. Suddenly he pounded his fist on the table and knocked over his empty glass, and startled Valk.

"TERRY!"

"king's ass!" could be heard from behind the kitchen door. Terry kicked it open and placed himself between it and the door's frame. "THE HELL NOW?"

"The Arms Party got anything going on soon?"

"Yeah they got some tournament of some sort going on, some hand-to-hand team combat bullshit. Fucking thing reeks of a trap to catch that kid."

"Eh. They got a prize?"

"Last time they pulled shit like this its something they found in the castle. I think it was a bag full of some fancy shit."

"Fancy shit?"

"Yeah. Fancy shit."

"Fancy shit. We talking like capes and jewelry here?"

"Fancy shit." Terry shrugged.

"YES, FANCY SHIT. Answer the question."

"Yeah I guess. Hell. I just heard about it."

"I think we're going to get even with the arms."

"Awesome." Myen said.

"I am NOT entering a fighting tournament." Topaz blurted and gave Taint an intense stare.

"Okay. Fine. Don't. I wasn't. How does it make it even if we win the fancy shit fair and sqare? Hell, we're just going to steal it."

 

 

The crew had finally arrived in Grault after their short vacation from their job as couriers, which in turn was a vacation from their job as freelance adventurers. Although the trip there took an extra three days not counting the two spent goofing off in the woods with a bunch of forest crazies, they had managed to arrive in one piece, along with 95 percent of the Air Grumpkin and all of the shipment for the Arms Party. The trip required Taint to use the second stick of Gravity dynamite, as halfway to Grault the plane dropped straight down in to a small lake. Quick thinking and a quicker match, both belonging to Taint, kept most of the plane's delivery cargo dry, however most of the dynamite, being loose on the floor, was ruined. Taint was in a bad mood.

Gently touching down on the Grault airport at 6 miles per hour allowed the Arms Party to have plenty of warning of Taint's arrival and dispatched thirty or so of their best men stationed in Grault, outfitted in armor designed to lessen the chance you'll lose a limb in an explosion, to the landing strip. Accompanying them were Mr. Slane and Barch, a high ranking officer in the Arms party and his Sasquatch bodyguard. After Taint assured all the men that he was not going to throw any dynamite at them, and after Taint assured his own crew he was not going to launch dynamite out of a gun at them, The crates containing goods unknown to Taint's crew were removed from Air Grumpkin and they were given their payment. A dozen sticks of dynamite, thirty feet of rope, a box of nuts and bolts, Three tubes of caulk, six large boxes of matches, three fuel vouchers, twenty three cases of cigarettes, six loose packs of cigarettes, and after a breif period of haggling, seventeen loose cigarettes. The loose cigarettes were directly out of the cigarette case of Mr. Slane, and were given up when Taint's peaceful negotiations turned into namecalling and threats because Slane was trying to screw him.

After a bit more yelling, Taint also managed to convince Slane to have his men load the goods on his plane, but was held in a submission hold by Barch until he admitted that the damage to Air Grumpkin was his own fault and not a conspiracy set by the Arms Party, again, to screw him. Barch also got him to admit that he often plays hopscotch and eats doileys. Taint came very close to having his arm ripped out of its socket when he insisted that doileys are not something you eat.

The Air Grumpkin's last working engine kicked in again and through a clever use of piling up the rope infront of the landing gear, the crew managed to get the plane inside a tarmac. Taint spent the day messing around with the busted engine while Myen, Valk, and Topaz each left with six cases of cigarettes each and went to town to barter for supplies and replacements for the things that Loz's men declared to be theirs, and also to find a decent restaurant. As the hours passed, Taint managed to swipe enough parts from neighboring tarmacs to get the engine back to working order, and hammered the bent propeller back in to a shape that might provide lift to the battered aircraft, and rewarded himself by picking up a bottle of booze and that day's newspaper.

The crew returned with enough food to last them the week, some new clothing, and a new curtain with curtain rod, and began to resituate the bunks as Taint got mildly drunk and read his newspaper. Around 10 PM, he wadded up his newspaper and threw it on Valk's seat before walking back to the bunks where everyone had begun to relax for the night.

"Let's go to Grilldo's." Taint said, with an innocent gleam in his eyes and a happy but not insane smile on his face. His three crew members dreaded those four words. Grilldo's is the worst restaurant in the kingdom.