The Agoraphobic Suede: #5 - Maimed Sea Crook

White hot warmth burned the tar. Two fatigue characters dragged themselves out into the open range. They traveled as fast as their feet could be persuaded, and as slowly as their wasted hemodyamnics could be tortured under the ordeals.

They put behind the junction of darken woods, of wailing infants and the red climate of tidings.

They were very thirsty.

Liz fell over and wrung on the road. Benny followed her down, unable to lift himself up any longer.

He looked at the rows of signposts.

His skin fried with contact on the parched concrete.

The signs said:

Pilot Dreams

Fallenmaples

The Ultimate Shot

Funland

He took in another deep breath beneath his bony chest plate and wheezing lungs.

He looked at Liz on the floor. She was shrivelling like a child having terrible nightmares, with eyes wide opened.

He closed his eyes and slept under the phoenix sun.

For a long while, they just laid there.

If they were lucky enough, maybe they would finally die.

Benny: 'Liz.'

Liz: 'Um.'

Benny: 'Get up, we have to keep moving.'

Liz: 'Okay.'

Benny: 'We were wrong. We were wrong from the beginning.'

Liz: 'About?'

Benny: 'These signposts are not really giving the right directions.'

Liz: 'I don't get you.'

Benny: 'The Ultimate Shot is not a location.'

Liz: 'It isn't?'

Benny: 'Give me the map.'

Liz unfolded the map. The context of their world shifted again, into a spiderwebs of roads spreading outward.

Benny: 'We need to find a pub.'

Liz: 'There are no pubs in such places. No wait, there is a tavern.'

Benny: 'Fair enough. Where is it?'

Liz: 'It's near the location where we woke up in the beginning. It is by the sea of blood.'

___________________________________________________________________________

Barbecue yawned widely, revealing her sharp fangs, contouring her facial features. She jumped from the ceiling beam and landed gracefully paws down on the wooden platform of the bar. She sniffed around for food and trotted lightly into the kitchen. It was five in the morning and her owner was already up and running the show. She chewed on her chow in the bowl with her name. Her owner whom she inherited her name was making breakfast for himself. It smelled of bacon and eggs.

Her owner turned with his apron and greeted Barbecue.

'Good morning. Do you know what day is today? Well, go and see her later, will ya? Try to find her a flower, pink ones with yellow tips. I'm sure she would be pleased.'

Barbecue mewed in return and stroked herself around her owner's wooden prosthetic leg.

Barbecue leaped to the garden.

In the bushes, she found a mouse hiding. For a while she chased the mouse around, gnawed it a little bit, kicked it around and allowed the chase to begin again. She ran past a patch of withering autumn flowers, she remembered her task and swiped the mouse's throat and left it dying with lingering breaths. Barbecue bit the stem of a pink flower off and trotted to the back of the house.


Their house of bricks and sticks were built over the iron sea. Sunsets were brilliant over here. Barbecue stopped her tracks and laid her offering on a little tomb. The tomb of the previous pet. She was called Captain Flint of which was the name of her owner's former captain on the deck. In jest and mockery.

Barbecue sat there for a while, feeling the sea breeze slurred her fur. She then heard something far away. She was sure that her owner must have heard them too. She sprung around the house to the front lawn where her owner was already at.

Two strangers sprawled lifelessly on the porch. They looked severely dehydrated and burnt.

A human and a giant lizard.

________________________________________________________________________

The autumn ended and displaced by its sister of the season. Snow began to fall on the red sea, the dark woods, the highway and on the tavern.

The crippled owner with burly arms and an apron tried to fed his refugees warm tea. The tea soured upon contact with their tongues and they spat them out instantly.

'Not very thank-giving huh?'

Benny: 'Is this a pub?'

'Not really, well, almost. We have beer and soccer channels if that's what you referring.'

Benny: 'Do you have The Ultimate Shot?'

'Who are you people?'

Liz: 'Who are you?'

The ruddy owner fished out a shotgun and said: 'I get to ask the questions around here. Who are you people? Again.'

Liz: 'We have no idea how we got here either. We woke up by the sea made of blood. Then we were chased away by a walrus. Someone got killed. I could no longer recall the name of the poor chap. We saw the signposts of The Ultimate Shot everywhere. Everything tasted so bad. We thought this place could be the solution.'

Benny: 'Do you or not have The Ultimate Shot?'

The owner ignored him and walked to the behind of the bar. He put away the gun and started polishing the glasses with a cloth.

'You can call me Silver. I was a sea cook, a quartermaster, a treasure hunter and now a bartender. I was Long John Silver, I was a wicked pirate. So question me again, young lad, I will have your tongue cut out for my cat's ribbon.'




to be continued...