by Unce, Bo
This excited Alphonso even more.
"See, Preston! This will help you out. I learned about it from those software guys back at the Marduk Research Facility. They called it a can-can board."
"What?" I laughed.
"No, really. This is like, how they make compute-pads and stuff. They write up all the stuff they need to do, like 'get compute-pad', 'make compute-pad compute', 'don't hold it wrong'," he explained to me. "Then they write each thing down and stick it on here and move it around so it looks smart. That's how they make compute-pads," he crossed his arms triumphantly, proud to have relayed some technical knowledge he did not comprehend.
"What on earth," I shook my head. "That's stupid."
He shook his head more emphatically than I.
"No, Preston, it's just too smart. It seems stupid because you aren't a compute-pad programmer."
I laughed disrespectfully and turned to Marcus.
"Yeah, but Marcus is. Marcus!" I called for his attention.
"Yo, what the fuck, mane? I be busy, fo' rea'," he didn't look up.
"Alphonso over here is trying to teach me about a... can-can board, or something compute-pad programmers use. You know anything about that?" I inquired.
Instead of shouting back his usual obscenity-laden, barely relevant tirade, Koochy just paused his engineering and lolled his swollen face at me. After a wordless moment of scathing dead-eye contact, he returned to his work. Embarrassed that I had given any attention to Alphonso's idiotic ramblings, I did not turn back to face him and wordlessly walked over to Koochy.
Alphonso, unaware of my snubbing, chimed in cheerfully, "Hey guys, don't worry. I'll write up our plan on sticky notes for the can-can board. Then we can move them around together! I'm so glad you guys are back."
"How's it looking?" I asked Koochy, ignoring Alphonso.
"Good, mane," he showed me his work. "Shit is comin' along good, bruh."
The compute-pad jutting out from the side of his suit had already been heavily augmented, even in just the ten or so minutes that he had been fiddling with it. The numerous, dimly glowing energy cells wrapped up in, and around, the tangle of wires now surrounding the compute-pad made them look like some kind of Christmas decorations. Of course, the holiday that was long ago called Christmas had been politicized, nationalized, banned, restored, banned again, persecuted and was now prohibited. When I was a little child, well, the first time I was a little child, I recalled my mother regaling me with bed time tales of a colony on the outskirts of the galaxy that was entirely dedicated to the fulltime pursuit of Christmas.
"You got enough to bring yourself back yet?" I asked him.
"What? Naw, son!" Koochy retorted, loudly. "Ain't no fo' rea' powa in dis here busted ass bullshit! Shit ain't got no networkin neitha!"
I furled my brow.
"So what are you doing then?" I asked.
"Big Kooch in need fo' dat weed, son! Unnnghhh! My ass be stayin' high! I got dem greens in my taco!" he educated me.
"What?!" I couldn't believe it. Of course, knowing Koochy, I could believe it, but I didn't want to. "Marcus! TK is waiting on us! I thought you were working on reanimating yourself! Weed?! What kind of..." I looked around us. "Where do you even get weed in here? What does that have to do with your compute-pad?"
"Bitch, dis hea' da futcha!" he made the sound of smacking his mouth and talked down to me. "Dem science ass niggas done figured out dem weed brainwaves, yo! I got dem resonant neural frequencies on mothafuckin' lock, son! Almost... dere..." he slowed his slang speech to focus on something he was finagling on his compute-pad.
"Unnnghhh!" he exclaimed, forcefully. "Got dat shit, mane!"
I sighed, heavily.
"Jesus, Marcus," I lamented.
"Hey, dat ain't a bad idea, cuz," even over the compute-pad, I could recognize the change in his voice that signified he was high. Despite my frustrations with his timing and sense of urgency, I had to admit his technical prowess was astounding.
"So," I thought quickly. "I guess we still have to go to Old Cleveland before we can rescue TK?"
"Ahem," Alphonso interjected. "That's not what our can-can board says. Look right here, it says after we get TK we go to Old Cleveland."
"Fuck outta here wit dat damn can-can shit," Koochy kicked his booted foot at Alphonso and his board, which now boasted several yellow sticky notes. "Yea, 'fraid so, P. We needa take ourse'ves to da OC!"
My shoulders slumped. I didn't have the heart to reach out to TK. To tell her that we would be some time in returning. That she was on her own until then. I took comfort from the thought of her mysterious regenerative powers. The woman had survived a starring role in a successful snuff porn film, after all.
I decided I could wait to tell her the bad news.
"What bad news?!" TK's thoughts shrilled into my brain. Dammit.
"Sorry, babe," I thought back, reluctantly. "We found Alphonso, but we still don't have enough power to get through that door. Can you do anything on your side? We could get you out of the ground if you can get yourself on the other side of that door!"
She was silent for a minute.
"I've been trying!" she thought back, desperately. I didn't doubt her futile efforts, but they were irrelevant.
"Okay then, baby," I thought back. "I think we're going to have to go to Old Cleveland before we can come get you. I don't know how long that's going to take us. It could be a while."
"Just get here!" TK pleaded. "Fast!"
I frowned and pressed my lips together, grimly.
"Ay! Ay, P!" Koochy called out from his compute-pad as well as the ship's loud speakers. "Yo, somethin's comin'! Get ready!"
"What?" I asked, forgetting about TK. "What do you mean?"
"Yo, I be all up in dis whip's 'lectro's and shit! Somea da sensors, dey still be workin'. I dunno what tha fuck dis be what is comin' but I'll tell you one thang, dem bitches is big!" his amplified voice boomed through the chariot's interior.
Alphonso and I rushed over to the windows and the door of the cockpit, scanning for some visual indication of Koochy's prediction.
"Here! Over here!" Alphonso was shouting from the open doorway. "Look, Preston! Look!"
I rushed over and shoved him out of the way.
"Holy f-fu-fuck!" I stammered as I beheld the scene.
Two enormous white blobs were moving quite briskly toward us across the surface of the frozen lake. I estimated they were roughly the size of small buses. Squinting, I was able to see them a bit better in the pre-dawn light. They were definitely organic beings of some sort, with milky slick skin that gleamed as they sped along, leaving some kind of beautiful frozen wake behind them.
"Bitch, what it be?" Koochy thundered.
"I.. I dunno," I called back over my shoulder. "It looks like... some... kind of giant... slug? A huge ice slug?"
"Ohh, shit, son! Hooooo!" Koochy hollered. "A damn... what dey call dat? Ah yeah, a damn mollusca maritimus! We game dis shit right and we goan hitch our asses a ride, boy!"
"What's the plan?" I asked him.
"Yeah!" Alphonso brandished a fistful of sticky notes. "What's the plan?"
"Man, get dat shit out muh sight, you ol' ass-face-ho'!" Koochy said as he stood up and pushed Alphonso away.
"We needa get dem big bitches ta pass by right in fronta our whip. Dis thang got some kinda ropes and harnesses shit up in tha front of it. I be all up in dem sys'ems an' if one a ya'll 'tarded asses can get dem where I want 'em, I got dis, mane! Unnnghhh!"
I knew one thing, it sure as hell wasn't going to be me who went back out on that ice hoping to attract those behemoths. I looked at Alphonso, who was dumbly, and eagerly, staring at Koochy's swelling, increasingly discolored face. Almost like a puppy that was so desperately hoping his master would throw the ball so he could fetch it.
A grin spread over my face and I slyly put my plan into action. Slipping behind Alphonso, I got close to his can-can board.
"You know," I told him while I wo
rked surreptitiously. "That's pretty cool of you to go out there and wrangle those ice monsters."
"What?" Alphonso's day-dreamy expression contorted into one of revulsion. "Uh uhh! No way, guys. I'm not going out there! I mean, I just got my knee all better and stuff!"
"Ha ha," I chuckled. "Good one, Alphonso. I mean, seriously. Of course, it wouldn't be you. It would be me, the dick-footed toddler Jesus. Or, him," I gestured to Koochy. "He's still dead! Come on, Alphonso. Of course it's you."
"Nuh uh, Preston. I don't want to end up like you guys. I mean, I'm sure your feet are very nice and all. And Koochy, I'm sure you'll still get... bitches, or whatever."
"Whachu mean, 'whateva' ?" Koochy threw his gang signs defensively. "Big Kooch don’t be doin' it wit' no 'whateva', sucka. Yo ass look like some kinda whateva fucked a damn armadillo. Yo ass like a big, white flabby ass armadillo wit' yo pointy ass nose and shit. Root, root, do da armadillo! Unnnghhh! How you like me now?!"
I grabbed Alphonso by the shoulders and shook him.
"TK is trapped down there! Listen to me! You are going out there. We've got to get our shit together! Fast!" I yelled inches from his pale face.
"I dunno, Preston..." he seemed to be warming to the idea. "My knee..."
"You just said it was all healed up! Come on, Alphonso. You are good at running...." I pressured.
"Hm... well," he seemed to light up. "I really wish I could help you guys. But..." he pointed to the board, covered in sticky notes. "It's not on the board! Not. My. Problem." He crossed his arms, defiantly.
I smirked. It bothered me that he was so dumb, but in this case, I had the upper hand.
"Look closer," I told him.
"What?" he looked scared.
I pointed to one of the notes on the board.
ALPHONSO GETS THE MONSTERS read the sticky note.
"No..." Alphonso said weakly. "Well....poo."
He hung his head in resignation and, for a moment, I was concerned he might cry. However, when he lifted his eyes, a dogged determination gleamed back at me.
"All right then, fellas," he smacked his fist into his hand. "I am ready to do this! I've survived worse than this. Far worse!"
"Ay, son, sit yo' ass down! And listen," Koochy educated him. "Now, you goan go out dere and be all hootin' and hollerin', like 'hey! hey you big snow booger lookin motha fuckas! Over here!' Den, when dey start gettin' up on you and shit, das when you bring them up ta tha fronta dis hea snow-mobile, ya hear' me? Den, I be puttin' dat harness on dem and BAM! We got ourse'ves a ride ta mothafuckin c-town. Awwww yeah, sucka! Unnnnghhh!"
Alphonso nodded. "Uh, okay. Yeah, I can do that. I think."
"We're counting on you," I told him. "Look, they're getting closer. You've got to get out there now!"
The large white animals were roughly two hundred yards away now and closing fast. They looked much larger than buses, more like small buildings. They had what looked like enormous open sores all over their bodies and they were oozing thick, white fluid. They weren't exactly sliding across the ice; it was more like they were riding through it, like a boat in water, leaving a frothy wake.
"Okay. Okay, guys," Alphonso was clearly reluctant. He stopped at the door. "Uh... okay."
"Mane, get yo' ass out dere! We goan miss our chance 'cause yo' stutterin' ass ass. Gon!" Koochy boomed at him with all of the speakers around us.
"Okay!" Alphonso yelled and jumped out of the chariot's cabin.
"What should I do?" I asked my dead friend.
"Ay, P, we goan get whiplash in dis bitch. Ya bes' protec' ya neck, kid. Find somewhere ta sit and hang the fuck on!" he told me as he began to barricade himself in the crawlspace under the cockpit control panel.
I dashed into the nearest seat near one of the shattered windows near the front of the once-magnificent sled. Pulling the seat restraint over my shoulders and hip, I turned my attention to Alphonso. He was running towards the impending winter beasts, waving his arms like a lunatic.
"Jesus, Alphonso," I said, under my breath. "What are you doing?"
"Dat boy cray doh," Koochy laughed all around me.
"Cray" as it may have been, it did seem to be working, I noticed. The glistening mammoths began to change their trajectory to point towards Alphonso. He also seemed to realize this and turned around with a panicked look on his face. He began to sprint back toward the front of the ship.
"Das right, mane. Das right," Koochy sounded optimistic. "Lead dem fat white bitches to big papi Kooch!"
Alphonso huffed by the front of the chariot, puffs of dusty snow kicking up around him as he raced. A few seconds later, the two enormous creatures came trundling by.
"Unnnnghh!" Koochy exclaimed when they were directly in front of our stalled vehicle. "Get you some!"
THUMNK! THUMNK!
I heard something dull and industrial sound from the front of the chariot.
"Yeahhhh!" cheered Koochy. "Fuck yeah, boy! We 'bout ta-"
Before he could complete his sentence, the chariot was jerked forward with tremendous force. We were wrenched from the snowy bluff that had ensconced us, and dragged behind the two ice beasts. Who were still chasing Alphonso.
"Ow!" My head smacked the wall beside me as I was jostled about. I could see Koochy was also having a hard time; his dead head was smashed several times into the underside of the control panel, causing his brain to begin to spill down his forehead.
"You okay?" I asked my friend after we stabilized a bit.
"Yea..." he began to extract himself from his hiding place. "Mane, dat shit was rough, son. Where dat fool, Alphonso?"
I looked out the window and saw Alphonso. Well, I saw his fleeing backside. He was still a hundred or so feet ahead of his house-sized pursuers and seemed to be running out of adrenaline. I gave him another five minutes, tops, before he was ice slug fodder.
"He's right in front of us, Marcus!" I exclaimed. "He's still out ahead of the snow-snot things, but he's losing ground!"
"Aiight den," Koochy said.
"So what's the plan? How are we going to get Alphonso back in here?" I asked my friend.
"Why da fuck would we be doin' dat? E'erythang be lookin' fine up in hea'." Koochy kicked his feet up and relaxed. His dead eyes stared at nothing and his hands made a motion like he was about to pass a blunt. "Haaaaah. Fo'got dat chiba chiba up in my brainwaves, son. Ain't no puff puff pass up in dis sheeit. Fuck y'all, you bogart muffuck anyways."
"Really? But you sent him out there! Just to die in the snowstorm?" I protested. "Stop using those brainwaves, your brain is leaking all over the chair already!"
"Big K sent him wha? Muthafucka, yo' ass did dat wit da can-can, P. And now you all can't-can't? Don' be lookin' at Kooch ta come rescue that foo'."
Marcus flicked a switch and turned on the sled's external speakers.
"Oh shit sucka, ha! Run, you armadillo ass Pinocchio lookin ass wit yo' dumb face and doin' whateva we say when we pull strangs cuz you a dumb shit ass white ass DQ eatin' ass ass eatin' ass! Ay, remember Whiddington at da DQ? Last thang he evuh seen was a blizzard, so yous be seein' dat too! Fo' real, blizzard in yo' face! Unnngh!"
For a moment I considered leaving Alphonso to his fate. But we needed him, if for nothing else but to wrangle the next set of ice monsters or whatever horrors we were sure to come across. Seeing a blizzard...
"That's it! The blizzard!" I yelled.
"Ain't no drive-thru DQs for yo' sweet toof', you fat fuckin' baby," Marcus replied coolly. "Wut, you see a big-slugs-park-righ'chere sign or sumthin'?"
"Marcus, look at those huge ice beasts. Did you see any eyes on them... those mollusca whatevers?" I asked.
"Nah mane, that whole fuckin' genus don't have eyes. Some in da phylum do, but dat's just a taxonomic relation," Koochy replied.
"What? So if they don't have eyes, they're just sensing basic stuff, right?" I continued. "And if they're out on the ice and in the blizzards all the time, maybe they're sensing heat! They're just following Alphonso '
cause he's warm!"
The sled was gradually catching up to Alphonso as he was tiring. I was now able to faintly hear him over the rushing wind outside.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" he was screaming. How could he scream so much while running? I figured he'd be better off just maybe not screaming.
"Alphonso!" I announced over the loudspeakers. "You have to get rid of your heat signature somehow! But don't slow down!"
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" he responded. "Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!"
"Dive into that snow drift! To your left!" I called out. "You dumb piece of shit, you passed it! And stop screaming like a little bitch!"
"Ay, P! I got dis," Koochy said. He opened up a hatch on the top of the chariot and climbed up onto the roof. I followed him up there, and my dickfeet were instantly chilly on the snow-and-ice-covered metal surface.
Koochy used his suited arms to sweep up a mass of snow and turn it into a snowball. He fired a mechanically augmented fastball at Alphonso's frantically running form and hit him directly in the ass.
"That's it!" I shouted and I joined Marcus in making more snowballs. We threw them at the flailing Vice-Admiral and laughed as he yelped. We pelted him on his back and arms and legs, and he emitted a shrill, girly scream with every impact.
"It's working!" I cheered. The snow slugs were slowing, confused. Alphonso's infrared emissions were getting blocked.
"Ha! Now check dis out," Koochy said as he made a particularly large snowball.
"Yeah, we need to make sure he's completely covered," I agreed. "Put some ice pieces in it too so it's colder. Here, it needs to be a bit slushy too, let me spit on it." I spat a few times but it didn't do much to wet the frozen ball.
"Nah mane lemme show how we do, 41st side represent!" Koochy repositioned the snowball by the crotch of his suit. There was a hole there where Limbozer had cut his own dick off. Marcus somehow persuaded his dead body to take a piss on the snowball, and a greyish, bloody stream of fetid urine splashed over the icy mass. Decaying chunks of kidney spattered the top.
"Ay, Alphie! Choc' chip cookie dough blizzard comin' atcha!" He hurled the ice bomb out over the white behemoths.
