They call me "Jojo"'s page

Meeting up with the others is just another headache. You got this bunch that wants to go to a museum for bones or f*cking souvenirs from this hellhole, I guess. And, then, there’s another bunch that wanna’ find a hospital, food, or something. That much sounds reasonable. We’re gonna need the gear, soon. Then, there’s Yakuza. I don’t read his scribble sh*it. And he don’t speak American... or any gawddamned language. I think he’s still all gung ho over some football pads, but I ain’t f*cking going back in that sporting goods store. We barely got out with the water and our flesh in tack. I ain’t that eager to die.

So, we stood around and fussed for almost an hour before I lost. All I could do was stare at that pretty spray of water in the near distance. Damn, I wanted that shower so f*cking bad! To be this close, I was pissed. But I couldn’t just drop the expletive deleted and head off on my own. I need someone to get eaten in case we find more of them pod-slugs crawling about. Kinda’ like that whole bear scenario. You don’t have to outrun the bear, just everyone else.

Granted it hadn’t been but a few hours, but I didn’t give much attention to the group before we parted ways. So, I don’t really remember many of them, but I’m pretty f*ckin’ certain none of them were crippled before. Now, we have one stumpy-ass doctor with no legs, and a bunch of people with bites taken outta’ them. I’m so THRILLED to be on the Raiders-equivalent of the Apocalypse Survivors’ Squad. That’s A.S.S. Shi-it, fate better trade me out soon to a team with talent!

The afternoon was starting to wear on, so we packed up Stumpy and the Swiss-cheese crew and headed back west, back to the sporting goods store. The A.S.S. was in motion. I could hear the elevator music settle into the background as I just started to zone.

We weren’t driving for long when we passed by the hollow shell of what used to be some type of a store. Damned if I could read the signs. But, sleeping in the middle of the dusty floor was a expletive deleted wolf! You think if we had noticed that before, maybe we’d be having steaks instead of Snickers… And sure enough, a burnt-in circle around the thing.

Og must’ve thought the same as me, cuz’ he stalked over to that beast with his bat raised and I was none too upset to have him around, suddenly. But, when he went to swing, the beast woke, dodged, and then turned into a woman. A f*cking woman! The b*tch was a expletive deleted WEREWOLF!!! Now, leave it to Sir Dick James, the dude claiming to be a knight running around with a trashcan lid, to be Mr. Wonderful and insist we bring the skyclad vixen with us to protect her. Shi-it, ain’t we got enough dead weight in this group? I casually locked the doors and got a sideways glance from that creepy little girl – Lily, was it? – who I let ride in the cab with me.

“Safety, pumpkin. Safety.”

The dozer was loaded. People in the cab, on the cab, sitting in the scoop like it was some mobile Lazyboy, and hanging off every edge they could lay a foot. We even had some walking alongside. Like I said – A.S.S., the “special” division. Not exactly the people I’d have picked for ‘Survivor’ or to bunk with, let alone a job. I know someone’s having a good time at my expense.

I got a little bit of revenge, though. We made an unexpected stop at an electronics store as we were heading back to the sporting goods store. And you know who stopped us for the sh*t? That’s right! Yakuza! Good for nothin’, Yakuza. I think I’ll promote him to a Lieutenant of A.S.S. or something... On the other hand, how the f*ck did we miss the werewolf AND now an electronics store?

So, the boys went in. By boys, I mean Yakuza, Ramius (some Russian who’s been getting cozy with the banged-up stewardess), and Og. Not too many of the men folk in this group, actually, just the five. Damien, a.k.a. Stumpy, was chillin’ all legless-like in the scoop, and Sir expletive deleted Dick James was staying back to “protect” us. My hero.

I don’t know what happened after that. I heard a little bit of screaming, and people disappeared from around the dozer, but I was full on into my sugar rush.

The time kept passing and I kept laughing – laughing like a gawddamned loon. Louis Armstrong was in my head singing “What a Wonderful World” as I giggled away munching on my candy bars and sipping on my – whatever the hell these energy drinks are. And in my rearview were those d@&@!$%s struggling once more with them expletive deleted pod-slugs. They keep welcoming trouble and I’m letting them have it. Let ‘em drown in the sh*t storm. I know they’re all the people I might ever have here, but less mouths to feed – well, it all seems for the better. All that f&%!ing ‘survival of the fittest’ bullsh*t propaganda finally had a place.

Maybe it was the caffeine talking, but it seemed like a good idea to start thinking about who we’d eat first. Of course, some thoughts you just keep to yourself. Don’t want to scare the guys that’re supposed to be watching my back. Sometimes, the sanity can only last as long as the A/C. And with no shower, no meat, and limited supplies (and an army of thousands to eat it all), all I got’s my A/C.

Sadly, no one died. The A.S.S. was back in business. Sigh.

The drive was uneventful after that and we got to the sporting goods store with the same luck. I put up the scoop so people could crawl around on the roof and do whatever they did. Lily brought back the wire racks to that water fridge and the rest of the water. People grabbed a few things, but after it was all said and done, we left the sporting goods store with exactly what we came with, minus the hour wasted.

The sun was starting to set and with the shadows growing, the critters would be creeping about. So, off to safety for the night! An argument broke out over sleeping on the roof and I finally put my foot down. Shi-it, if we arrived in the desert, slept in the desert for f*cking days, we could certainly sleep there another night.

Parking it in the outskirts, a good several miles outside of town in case those pod-slugs decided to scent our trail like f*cking dogs, we settled in for the night. I nibbled on another candy bar, handed out a few, rationed the water, and then cried on the inside. I haven’t lost my humanity, yet. I need to work on that.

Someone started a campfire and it was about that time I finally noticed the sky. In all the darkness, with the sun set, the sky shoulda’ been brilliant. I went camping south of Peoria, once, when I was a kid and the night sky was blooming with stars. I could only count three. Three f*cking stars in all this black. Gawddamned strange, but what hasn’t been so far?

Then, Sir Dick James pulled out a few of those critters they had killed. My stomach sank as I watched them cook, then eat that nasty sh*t.

• me, myself, and I
• Yakuza: fail yakuza, and mute to boot (so he can’t argue over the name)
• Og: smarter than your average caveman
• Lily: creepy little girl
• Lori: Japanese, but into bikes, so we won’t hold it against her
• Sir Richard “Dick” James: poser knight
• Wren: pyro
• Lady O’Bai: old school Japanese, like “samurai” old school
• Damien: STUMPY! Although, I’ve been assured he’s a healer, and we ain’t just haulin’ his lame ass around for fun.
• Ramius: Russian lech
• Stewardess: OK, admittedly, I ain’t even bothered to find out her real name cuz’ I’m calling her the Sexy Stew from here on out.
• Sawako: Wako, for short, like the Animaniac. She just seems... here. And in need of a haircut.
• Crystal: WEREWOLF! KILL IT!

Things looked tempting from where we stood. I wasn't crazy about the extra weight of the gear with a heavy jacket already tied about my waist, but these things meant survival – at least for a little while longer. I tucked the golf club into my belt. Yakuza made some gestures towards the store and then made some hand motions over his body, especially around his chest and head. I looked around him and could still see the shadows, just barely alive with movement. I didn't wanna' risk it. I wasn't giving myself over to them creatures. But, it wasn't exactly Chicago out here – no breeze and too gawddamned hot for my coat. I wasn't gonna' make it without something to drink.

"You wanna' go inside and grab yo'self a helmet and some pads? Shi-it, I'll keep watch, but I ain't moving."

He gave me an exasperated look. I sighed and waved him on.

"Fine – but you go first."

Usually, I don't give in to people or their expletive deleted dumb ideas. A store like this, though, had to have some Gatorade, energy bars, water, or something! It was worth the risk, well, worth risking Yakuza to get us an edge for surviving against this f*cked up creep-town.

Yakuza popped his neck and stepped carefully into the shadows beyond the doors. I glanced around, then started slowly behind him. When he gave me enough room, I leaned in and looked up at the ceiling. Just like in the monster movies, you gotta' look up. Expletive deleted!!! There were half a dozen of those pod-slugs chilling on the ceiling and a few more on the wall above the doors. I reached for Yakuza and yanked him back.

I took a second to catch my breath and I knew he was looking at me like I was batsh*t crazy. When I looked back up, I noticed something – something I hadn't seen the first look-around. Maybe 50 feet in, near the furthest register, was a metal cooler. A gawddamned cooler! I could see the back and side of the thing and didn't know how I coulda' missed it. The wires were sticking out of the cord, but it looked like the cord was still connected to the power outlet.

I jerked Yakuza around and pointed him to the cooler. He saw it, too, and gave me the thumbs up. Back he went into the building, but he must've been more excited than before cuz' he seemed a lot less cautious. From the looks of it, Yakuza hadn't even noticed that the critters were everywhere. Hmmm. Maybe, next time I should say something? I leaned in towards the doorway, again, and watched for the creatures to move.

Yakuza made it to the cooler and I eased some. A few of the pod-slugs on the ceiling twitched. Yakuza opened the glass door and I could actually see it was fogged up. My heart sped up. One of the pod-slugs above the door began to stir. Then, Yakuza pulled out 3 bottles of what had to be water from what had to be a working cooler. I sucked in a breath. The creatures began to move.

"RUN!!!"

I screamed it. Probably not the best of ideas.

The creatures began to drop from the ceiling around Yakuza. He didn't look like much (and a ninja he wasn't), but after some deft maneuvering he broke clear and we ran for it – ran deeper into the city and further from the desert, the houses, and the assured massacre of the crowd we came with. There were 9 of those expletive deleted pod-slugs chasing us. It was like running from the pigs all over again, only these expletive deleted were fast! We hauled ass.

It's always afterwards that I think about this stuff. Yeah, I was running for my life with no intentions of going back, but it was worth noting. A store like that probably had things we could use – backpacks, camping gear, first aid supplies, helmets, face-masks, padding, shoes & socks, energy bars & drinks, weapons (hunting knives, rackets, mallets, more bats & clubs), and lots more goodies. My mind couldn't stop racing with the realization of everything we left behind. Of course, if these pod-slugs were eating up the tires and everything else rubber, I couldn't count on much of that sh*t being left. Here was hoping the f*ckers choked on the cleats.

After a bit, the pod-slugs slowed and then stopped chasing us altogether. They just curled up into those pods. Nasty little sh*ts. So we braked and decided to look around us. Yakuza was still clutching the 3 large bottles and you could see the condensation beading on the sides. It was sexy, I'm telling ya'.

The desert was behind us to the south. And I said we were already running further into this damned hell-hole. That was north. I just spun slowly in a circle and stared about. In the west, I could see – OK, I might've seen – what looked like smoke. A thin plume of the stuff was rising over the building tops. I was straining my eyes, but it really looked like smoke. Smoke comes from fire. Fires don't happen spontaneously. Something had to cause the fire, or someone. Shi-it, there might be people surviving out here! Behind us, to the east, was a business district. The road was mostly empty except for those pods (they were everywhere, though) and a single dump truck. Sans tires, of course.

I was starting to feel the sun on my skin and we both needed a quiet minute in the shade to rest and figure sh*t out. The dump truck was closer. We padded over to the truck avoiding the pods, gave it a good inspection, and opened the doors. The passenger window was busted and the cushions were missing. Damn, they ate the [i]expletive deleted seats!?[/i] I hopped up onto the metal coils that were left and stretched out. Yakuza handed me a bottle, then got in himself.

We opened a bottle and split it, half a liter each. The water was cold, refreshing, and f*cking wonderful, but the relief didn't last long. We had our shade, but we were sitting in an oven. Our asses burned with the hot coils beneath, The cab being mostly metal just kept the heat in and we were sweating. We were gonna' have to leave and find other shelter.

Looking around, I caught a gap in the row of buildings. You live in Chicago, or any damn city, and you see that sh*t all the time. Probably a construction site cuz' it was too gawddamned pretty an area for a parking lot. Still, nothing else caught my eye more than the smoke. I thought I could still make it out. It was gonna' be a long walk and we had to get going before things got dark. I didn't wanna' be here in the dark.

Yakuza and I got out, stretched, and were starting to turn west when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. There was a geyser of water shooting above the building tops a few blocks beyond the construction area. Like the fire, that sh*t just doesn't f*cking spontaneously happen. Not without help. I just looked at Yakuza and he nodded. Ain't neither of us wanted to walk miles for fire when we coulda' walked blocks for water. Lazy, but true.

We kinda' jogged down the road dodging pods. I got to the construction site before Yakuza and paused. The back of the lot had been cleared out and the first level of scaffolding had been laid. In the middle of the open lot was a dozer. Dozers have treads! It just got better and better. I almost screamed I was so f*cking happy.

Yakuza grabbed my wrist and pointed towards the back west wall. There was a circle burned into the clearing. And inside the circle was another naked man. Really!? What the f*ck? I told Yakuza to check on him while I ran to the bulldozer to see if it worked.

I had to stop myself from just hopping onto the dozer. I didn't think absent-mindedly jumping into the cab with a pod-slug was how I wanted this day to end. I pulled out the golf club from my belt and checked around it. Underneath, between the treads, was one of the pod-slugs. Just one. It didn't even see me. I climbed up the tread and pulled the door open. The glass, seats, everything was intact. Halle-f*cking-lujah!!!

It took a minute to check the cab. Weren't no keys, so I pulled loose the panel and hotwired the sh*t. The engine roared and I climbed in and closed the door. I checked the gauges and dash and found we were full on gas, good on oil, and best of all – I had A/C! I might not have had formal training, but we were gonna' drive this expletive deleted outta' here one way or another.

I sat up, looked out the window, and saw the naked man pointing and shouting at me. He looked scared. Yakuza was flailing his arms about. Then, the man grabbed one of Yakuza's bats and was coming towards me. I couldn't hear much over the engine and no one was yelling anymore. Suddenly, the naked man struck the treads with the bat and screamed. He bashed the bulldozer a couple more times and when he pulled back, I saw the pod-slug that had been under the cab was crushed into the treads. I got out and the naked man screamed at me. Something about "inside the monster" or some bullsh*t.

Once we got the guy calmed down, he introduced himself as Og, son of Ug. He talked like a f*cking retard and kept calling the baseball bat a club. He could talk some, more than Yakuza, and was just confused by everything. It kinda' clicked then that he might actually be from a different time. Maybe Yankee really was from the 1920s. And come to think of it, wasn't there a dude in that earlier group dressed like a musketeer or Robin Hood or some sh*t? Something was rotten in the state of Denmark, or whatever.

We did one last search around the site and noticed a couple lockers near the east wall. Things weren't even locked. We ended up finding a bunch of hard hats, enough for each of us and 5 left over, a pair of ragged old jeans, and 10 1-gallon jugs of water. I also scored a maglite with some extra batteries and found a plastic flashlight which went to Yakuza. Didn't trust Og to not throw the thing at some monster or a mailbox.

Yakuza tried to get Og to show some modesty and put on the jeans we found, but one size doesn't fit all. I ended up turning Og around and placing the crotch of the jeans in front of...yeah. Then, I tied the legs around his waist. Sh*t, it wasn't Calvin Klein, but it'd make my eyes happier.

We piled our happy asses onto the dozer. The cab just wasn't going to fit all of us. Og couldn't ride outside alone cuz' he didn't understand anything around us. Couldn't make Yakuza ride alone cuz' he couldn't shout if we needed a quick warning. So, I made them both ride on the front of the dozer on the U-blade. More weapons outside the cab, more eyes to see, and 1 voice to yell. We were off.

We got a couple blocks down and I noticed against the alleys and inside a couple buildings were vending machines. One last godsend, I guess. We managed to break a few and looted 'em. The cab was getting crowded with bottled water, hardhats stuffed with munchies like it was Halloween, and energy drinks. And basking in the A/C, however weak, it was just fine with me.

We were piling back up, heading for the water when shapes appeared. We rumbled forward and wouldn't you know it? Those chickensh*t bastards that not only lived, but abandoned me and Yakuza, were strolling down the road our way.

• basic clothing (sleeveless tee, sports bra, carpenter-style jeans, leather belt w/ steel buckle, socks, sh*tkickers)
• 1 hard hat
• 1 lambskin jacket (tied around waist)
• 1 bat
• 1-liter bottle of water
• 1 maglite
• spare maglite batteries
• 2 energy drinks
• 6 vending machine munchies

• 1 bulldozer (fully fueled & functional)
• 7 hard hats (including Og's & Yakuza's)
• 1 bat
• 1 golf club
• 1 plastic flashlight
• 10 gallons water
• 1-liter bottle of water
• 10 energy drinks
• 1 vending machine worth of snacks

I woke up when I felt my skin melting and my face burning. I was lying in sand and drowning in daylight. I don’t sleep this good on a good day, so this wasn’t right. I don’t know how long I was out, but I had ta’ been out for days! I actually got my ass up in minutes. (Pretty f*cking fast for me.) When I got to my feet, I stripped off my lambskin jacket and shook it clean.

It was when I was brushing the sand off me that I noticed the cut in the back of my thigh through my jeans. That porky bastard that shot at me… I could feel the skin and it didn’t hurt. I could twist and see that the cut had halfway healed. Just some light pink skin caked with dried blood and a healthy scab. I ain’t dumb or nothin’, but that sh*t wasn’t right, either. Maybe I had been out for days?

When I finally looked around me, I wasn’t alone. There were a lot of people just lying in the sand. Over a dozen of ‘em. Dry earth, people, and more f*cking sand! We were all curled up and laying in these circles that were scorched into the ground. And there wasn’t much else to see. No grass. No water. No animals or bugs. No cops and no jail! And no gawddamned Eleanor! Those expletive deleted PIGS!

I ain’t ever seen a lock-up like this. I didn’t remember a damn thing. I don’t know how I got wherever here was. But, I wasn’t alone. I didn’t like that. And I didn’t like that there was some naked f*cker in the circle next to mine.

I started to think they were dead. Maybe I was dead. Maybe this was hell…? Then, the naked body started twitching. They all were twitching, moving, and just getting up. And I was next to the ass that I bet was here for something perverted.

People kinda’ mumbled and bumbled about. Naked-ass started talking to me like I knew what was doing and he wanted me to share all. Sick f*ck. Said some other crap about baseball, knowing Babe Ruth (Shi-it, he was a expletive deleted loon!), and some BS about the Yankees. Suckass Yanks… White Sox to the end! Weren’t many introductions. Just people stepping outta’ their circles and looking ‘round.

I didn’t trust those circles. What the f*ck burns circles into the ground? That’s some trippy UFO sh*t, there! I got outta’ mine, but only after I touched the sand a few times with the tip of my sh*tkickers. I didn’t trust this sh*t. Like I said – things weren’t right.

It was kinda’ funny, but the second I got outta’ that damn circle, my head was all clear. I could breathe, again. I was in some desert-looking place, the sun was rising and getting hotter than hell, and I had dry-throat like sandpaper. And looking around, I could actually notice a town or something off in the distance. As soon as I thought it, I heard some little kid to my right say it, “Water.”

Shi-it. A damn kid… What the hell was going on? I’m REALLY gonna’ kill Jugs when I find him.

I wanted away from that babbling naked tweak, so I started towards the town. Must’ve been a good idea, cuz’ the little girl was coming, too. Unfortunately, the Yanks tweak was following behind me. Some Asian pretty boy was coming along for the ride, cuz’ it sure as f*ck wasn’t for the company, along with the rest of them, I guess. I didn’t care much for socializing just then.

One track mind – Thirsty. That means ‘get water’. I didn’t even notice the time slip by as we approached the town. When we got close, we found what looked like an SUV. Thing had been stripped down, tires and all. Not much left but wreckage.

We kept walking and came up on the edge of what looked like a little suburban neighborhood. The houses were modest, nearly identical, and close together. The houses were close enough they didn’t have yards, so much as alleys between ‘em. There were number plates mounted on the fronts of the houses by the doors, but it wasn’t any language I knew. Shi-it, I just speak American. But, the writing made me think of those Japanese tattoos people get – “dream” and “strength” and gay sh*t like that. The few cars and bikes spaced about were all missing their tires – just like the SUV we saw outside the town.

And scattered in the streets and the fronts of the houses were these pod things. There were soccer ball-sized brownish-grey pods just everywhere. It was kinda’ creepy. Made me think of that movie, Gremlins. The kid fed the freaky Chinese fur-balls after midnight and they turned into those giant pods. Yeah, pods… just before they turned into monsters. The pods even looked like they had arms, or limbs, or something – all wrapped up into pods... But, it was noon, and the monsters can’t get ya’ in the daytime.

We all kinda’ spread out when we got into the neighborhood. I wasn’t paying attention cuz’ the first house on the left we came to, I went for. And damn if Yankee boy didn’t follow me in. There wasn’t even a door on the front of the house, so I didn’t feel bad just barging in. I wouldn’t have felt bad anyways. Seemed quiet out here and like something just wasn’t right. Cars, pods, circles, and expletive deleted naked Yankees who were friends with Babe Ruth.

The house was small and opened up immediately on a little foyer area next to the kitchen and a hallway. The walls were missing their drywall and you could see the guts of the place like they hadn’t even finished building the sh*t. But, I could see a fridge turned on its side and a sink. I think I sighed out loud, “Water.”

Y’know that moment when ya’ think everything’s gonna’ be just fine? When you’re finally safe and sh*t? Then, f*cking Freddy jumps out and guts you? Yeah. It was kinda’ like that.

Above the fridge, on the wall, was this brownish-grey starfishy slug-thing. It was just creeping along the wall and it seemed to be coming our way. It wasn’t alone, cuz’ I saw another one on the floor just outside the kitchen. I felt my heart beat.

Now, in this moment, this dumb DD-cup blonde runs upstairs and locks herself in the bathroom or a closet or some BS. I wasn’t some dumb big-tittied blonde.

I hauled ass back out of the kitchen and through the doorway where another of those creatures was waiting. Shi-it, I don’t stick around for the pigs, so I’m sure as sh*t not sticking around here. I jumped over the starfishy slug-thing and felt it touch the edge of my foot when I landed. I didn’t stop to look. I kept running down the street, dodging sh*t, and further into town.

I know I did something right when I heard screaming behind me. I didn’t look back, I just kept moving. I guess I could have said something when I passed by everyone, but I wasn’t really thinking about slowing down for them to hear me. And I’d swear that one thing was behind me. I could just feel those shivers, that cold feeling ya’ get when someone’s watching ya’.

The further I ran, the more I noticed things, things that crawled in the shadows in the alleys. I just ran straight. After making a good distance, I could feel those shivers were gone. I slowed and turned back to see the things had stopped following me. I could still hear screaming coming from down the other end of the street. And then, my eyes locked onto the Asian pretty boy running towards me – with those damn things following behind him! I didn’t give him a chance to catch up.

I got enough ahead of him to feel safe, then I saw a trashcan lying on its side in the street. I ran to grab it. I guess I thought I could capture the monster and be safe, but when I grabbed the can, I saw one of those things inside it. I flipped the can upside-down and left it trapped underneath. Again, I ran.

Maybe a couple seconds of mad dashing, I turned behind me and saw the Asian guy had slowed. The creatures had stopped chasing us, and curled up into those expletive deleted pods. We had run deeper into the town, towards the end of the street where a sports store was. I couldn’t hear any shouting or screaming, anymore, so we must have gotten too far away – or worse.

We two stood there for a second and took in the sight of the store. The pretty boy turned and gazed at me. He seemed like he wanted me to read his mind or something. He pointed to the tattoos running down my arms and then showed me his own sleeves – Yakuza sleeves. So, the guy was Japanese, then. He tried to draw pictures or something in the sand on the street, but I just didn’t understand him. He tried to talk, but he more of just made noises.

“You mute?” He nodded.

He pointed at the store. We walked closer to the window display and just on the inside of the glass doors were golf clubs and baseball bats. F*cking Yankee pervert… Wonder what’s happening back there? But, further back, in the dark parts of the store, I could see things moving. Things. We grabbed a couple bats each and I pulled out the biggest club I could find.

The yell came from the other side of the garage. Nice of the pigs to use the front entrance. The boys took off at a sprint. We knew this bust wasn't going down our style. Someone had ratted. Someone had snitched. The pigs knew just where to be and when.

I dropped the shot glass and grabbed the stack of bills before I bolted. Sometimes, you just gotta' let the money go. This was one of those times. I took just time enough for some porky f*cker in a uniform to burst through the door.

He saw me. I knew he saw me. That stare the cops give ya' when they wanna' remember you. Shi-it. I'm not clean-up crew, but this pig was gonna' need a mop.

Usually, them pigs give you a warning or something. Waste of time for them, and a good thing for me. Let them spend their breath instead of chasing us. But, this one was too hefty for chasing... and too f*cking fat to get the breath to yell. He just aimed. I guess that's how you keep on the beat at his weight.

Pig pointed that heavy lead-launcher he was packing right for me, but I was already moving. I just had to get to the rear door. I could lose them in the alleys, no prob. But, we left such a gawddamned mess all over that I was practically dancing across the room. Here's hoping that pig was an awful shot.

Two shots boomed like thunder. I don't know where that first bullet went, but I felt that second one graze my left thigh. The sudden shock of it all distracted me and sure enough – just my luck to trip on a f*cking tire! I'm gonna kill Jugs if I ever see his greasy hind-end ever again.

Yeah, just a bunch of gawddamned bad karma cashing in, I guess. That POS tire sent me to the floor, my right shoulder slamming hard into the concrete underneath of me. And wouldn't you know that f*cking pig came over to gloat? Yeah, I could've put up a fight, but I didn't need that expletive deleted getting me point blank. Some people are just too damned trigger-happy.

Shi-it, Officer Baconator was even nice enough to pack my pockets with a couple grams of snow and then even let me hold a pretty switchblade while he made sure my prints were on them good and thick. Of course, the f*cker could have given me the knife without cuffs on, but that'd be too much like a sporting chance. So, there I sat on the cold concrete with my hands behind me and some CPD blue boy on the take doing his business behind me.

F*cking set-up! I'm really, REALLY gonna' kill Jugs if I see his face just one more time...

Baconator called his buddies and some nice tart looking to prove she had the balls to play with the big boys decided that rough was how I liked it. Yeah, I've done this dance before. Sometimes, you just gotta' suck up the humiliation... The expletive deleted with the badge got tired quick, and the rest of the pigs had to escort me to a seat. They weren't letting me out of here till the real detectives got on scene. So, the only seat left for me was behind the wheel of a carved-up Shelby GT500. I was barely in that bucket for 5 seconds till...