Harold and the Pirates

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The Sea Rat groaned and shook as its engines ran at full throttle. Behind them, Laura was racing across the waves in a small deadly speed boat that skipped along the foamy waves. The boat was loaded with small torpedoes that she aimed and fired at the Sea Rat’s wake.

The missile had just missed, after the Captain steered the boat slightly to port.

“I love you too sweetheart,” the captain said as he brought the engines to a full stop.

Laura held her finger on the trigger, ready to launch another missile into her husband and explode his memory into his ocean. But the Sea Rat bobbed like a child’s toy in the waves, and she found she couldn’t. He never could fight her, even when she wanted him to. She whipped the boat around to face the bow of the Sea Rat.

“Get out of your damn boat,” she screamed.

The Sea Rat slowly sank beneath the waves, and she watched, her heart being crushed as he went away again.

The rest of the crew watched the Captain sigh with bone weary pain as the Sea Rat sank, slowly fluttering to the bottom of the sea. It sank past the sharks that circled in moving mountains of flesh around the Glass Lake.

It came to rest on the Glass Lake’s reflective surface. Harold and the rest of the crew could hear the low soft groan of the circling enlightened sharks.

Harold heard the sharks deep sad voice that seemed to come from inside his head.

“Have you come to be food?” they asked.

“Is there more to this place?” the Captain asked trying to choose his words carefully. “You are in our shrine.” the sharks said. “We came here like you, dumb animals,” the sharks said. “The lake changed you?” Harold said. “This device that you sit on, landed here long ago, long before any of us were there to remember it. “What is it’s purpose,” Harold asked. “It’s purpose is no more defined than the ocean we swim through. It just is. “Cryptic bastards,” Constantine said. “Shh,” the Captain said. “I guess we will go back to our lives,” the Captain said sadly.

“You can no more go back to your lives as we can go back to being fish feeding in shallow shoals,” the sharks said.

“Close your eyes, still your mind and open it to what you seek,” the Sharks said.

The Captain sat down on the deck of the Sea Rat cross legged and closed his eyes. His breath came in long deep sighs. His face went from a mask of concern to one of serene calm and when it did so, the rest of the crew felt a vibration under their feet.

Suddenly the Sea Rat began to shake violently and pitch to its side, and it began to be pushed upwards until it popped out of the ocean

To Laura, it looked as though the ship was suspended in a giant soap bubble. It floated silently through the sky, gradually getting smaller until it disappeared from her sight.

The Sea Rat crew stared out the window as they watched their ship being lifted from the sea, through the sky, and were now watching as the Earth diminished into the blackness of space.

The Captain was now snoring in a relaxed mental state of sleep, and the crew did not even feel guilty when they kicked him awake.

“Ummm, where are we going,” Harold asked.

“I think we are going to meet them,” the Captain said smiling.

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It happened on a day when the world did little to talk about. All the pop stars were safely in rehab and world leaders were in their vacation ranches, kept safely from the nearest news outlet, safe from saying anything stupid.

In desperation, news editors turned towards a small national story about cheap bath toys that melted, while exuding a noxious odor, and a small explosion at the Mall of America in the sewage system that caused it to close for weeks.

But the public’s fascination with the stinky rubber ducks was unabated with the fluff piece the editors were content to dish them. Soon investigative reporters were doing live interviews, while obscure government offices worked through the night to feed them a sufficient and fabricated story. The trick was to narrow the focus to a single thought simple enough to be grasped in the ten second clip that would be played on repeat for the next two weeks. “Are our toys safe,” was the headline. Once the public’s eye was focused, it was kept there. Soon article after article was written, read, and shouted about as red state verses blue state argued, while the very same toys were made in a country that forced its children into dangerous labor and ruled through a kind of brutality that would have made the entire argument laughably trivial, if it were not so tragic. But the public was happy in its dumb trivial state.

The attack had been avoided and that must be good, the Captain thought as he watched the news. The American war machine was quiet for a moment. Had NADS been activated, a silent nerve gas would have killed hundreds in the first wave, and this would have been tragic. What would have been more tragic would have been the response as the public cried out for safety in a world where there is none, unleashed their anger over countries, which only a moment ago, they would not have been able to point out on a map.

But still the Captain wondered what next. He had a crew willing to serve, a good ship, and a dim star to set a course. It was at the Glass Lake, that curious mystery that was left at the bottom of sea, that he first had the vision that maybe the universe cared nothing for the simplistic world of uniforms. For an instant, he was able to see that the effects of a missile rippled out through time farther than its concussion, and that man could only live in peace when his differences were not worth the blood that they caused.

“What are you thinking about,” Harold asked as the captain stared transfixed out the Sea Rat’s window into the darkness of the sea.

“Oh I was just wondering if we had any Fluffernutter bars left,” the Captain said.

“Ummm I think Jack left two,” Harold said as the Sea Rat slowly descended to the Glass Lake.

DeLaura’s punch to the Catain’s face was both extreme and cruel in a way that only intense love can bring. It crunched bone and blood splattered onto her fist as his body flopped backwards like a rag doll.

Harold, Jack, and Constantine watched in horror, unable to move, as the Captain took each

blow with a kind of resignation that can only come from old love. The kind that can lie under a deep pain and survive.

“Fight damn it,” DeLaura screamed through clenched teeth as she grabbed his short gray hair, her face inches from his.

He smiled with bleeding lips “change hurts,” he said.

“Oh you are damn right,” DeLaura said as she let fly another blow to the Captain’s face.

The punch came fast and devastating, or would have been. The Captain’s movement seemed to melt into her strike, and it’s force dissolved. It was almost as though they were dancing.

“You need to hear this honey,” Constantine said sighing. “Seeing you like this, even now makes me smile,” he said.

“I didn’t get to choose this you know.” “I need you to know that,” he said sadly.

“That is so beautiful,” Constantine said, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.

“Do you remember that song we used to sing together?” the Captain said.

“Some may say only fools rush in.”

“but I can’t help,”

Constantine grabbed Harold and Jack, and all four men sang the next verse in harmony.

“Falling in love with you.”

The Captain sang next few verses alone, staring in DeLaura’s eyes. She stood there quietly, her face showing a kind of deep shock.

“Like a river flows.”

“Gently to the sea.”

“Darling so it goes.”

Constantine, Harold, and Jack joined the Captain for the last verse.

“Some things were meant to be.”

With a quick flick of his wrist the Captain jabbed a finger at DeLaura and held her as her muscles spasmed and collapsed.

“I’m sorry sweety.” “We need to go,” he said sadly into her very angry eyes.

“Bastards!” DeLaura managed to scream after them as they drove their shattered van down the road and back to the Sea Rat.

The Mall Ninja lay on his back, defeated and covered in sewer water, and stared at the soft blue sky, watching the clouds pull themselves apart in soft white and gray cottony strands. His beating had only stopped moments ago, after the entire area was covered in a fine fowl spray. The Anonymous protesters stood dumbfounded and unsure what to do next.

The Mall Ninja was contemplating where his life went so horribly wrong when he heard faint singing, as if someone somewhere was having a party.

Though the water be deep boys

The seas like black oil

And the wind’s breath be spoiled

Hey tidy bowl the sailor he go

The boy went down into the hole.

Why he went that way, why no one can say.

But he climbed underground and shot dookie all around.

Yes

He shot dookie all around from under the ground.

The Mall Ninja closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like to have friends, or what a real party was like. He was never a very popular boy and was always a bit bitter about that. “Perhaps if I had the right sort of life, people would like me,” he thought. His entire body felt like one massive bruise.

The Mall Ninja opened his eyes to see a mob surrounding him.

The Captain looked down at him smiling, and the Mall Ninja could see his face now surrounded by a backdrop of a sky like a frosted blue egg shell. This made him slightly hungry.

“I think I fought Jack Demsey with hoards of the undead, or maybe an undead Jack Demsey.” “A robot ninja Jack Demsey would be cooler,” Jack said.

“Who is Jack Demsy?”Harold asked said.

The captain laughed. “No dude, I think you just forgot to duck,” the Captain said.

The Mall Ninja was picked up and dragged into the Camper van.

The party that followed was epic and such a big win that no one noticed that everyone smelled like dookie.

The Ex Wife Returns, Love to Follow, Just Not Now or Ever

Machine gun fire sounded a lot like fire crackers to Harold, only more terrifying.

DeLaura blocked the small van from going any further. The Pirates, Anonymous, and the Mall Ninja had all gone their separate ways.

“Naomi get out here now,” DeLaura screamed in high pitched shrill.

“I told you a submarine captain should not get married” Constantine said.

“Umm would anyone like to go out there and tell her that,” the Captain said.

There was a collective of blank faces followed by a vigorous head shaking.

“Well she must be a saint to have been married to you,” Harold said.

Machine gun fire ripped through the top of the van, spraying glass onto the floor.

“Yes, she is a delicate little flower,” the Captain said.

Bullets ripped through the air as DeLaura screamed “Get out here damn it,” she said.

Harold, Constantine, and Jack peeked through the shattered remains of a window as the Captain got out.

DeLaura and the Captain faced each other and neither was sure what would happen next.

Each store in the mall had a designer, who spent many long hours in school designing, criticizing other designers, and sobbing bitterly when their hours of hard work and sleepless nights were reduced to “that sucks”. Their skills at critical selections of color and style were so finely honed that they could make any product look like something that someone’s life would never be fully lived without. The stores in the mall had the very best of these masters of styles and as a result the mall contained a patchwork of cleverly designed store fronts and interiors that were works of corporate art. Behind these stores were a maze of small storage rooms and offices. These were the spots for work and seemed designed to be both functional and dirty.

Constantine emerged from a sewer access panel having never felt more disgusted by filth. Crate after crate stood stacked against the walls lined ceiling to floor, each on their own floor pallet. A small propane forklift was parked in the corner of the room.

Outside Harold sat with the Captain as the pirates broke into another song, their happy voices ringing through the open sewer line.

“You puke brains are singing, singing? Oh that’s it,” he said over the mic as the captain listened through the loud and wild songs.

“Don’t worry Constantine, just switch the labels, and destroy the ducks, so you can join the party,” the Captain said.

The stench and being cramped and alone had left Constantine angrier than usual. In a fit of rage he drove the forklift towards the crates, smashing into them until he heard the satisfying crack of wood against metal. The access panel he removed led to a large pipe that served as a main sewer line and ran underground through the length of the mall. The pipe carried cables as well and served as an underground access point, where smaller pipes fed a trench that fed waste water into the malls own mini treatment plant, which then connected to the main city sewer.

He whipped the forklift around and charged it as fast as it would go towards the open door to the sewer. Just before he would have crashed into the concrete, he sent the forklift into reverse, letting the crate he was carrying fly into the air and smash into the sewer. This caused the wood to splinter and the cardboard to rip and swell into the water as it lazily flowed to the treatment plant. This gave him a certain violent satisfaction, and soon he had every crate heaped in a splintered pile, while small yellow ducks floated through the water.

“Oh just do this and join the party he says, puke brains,” he screamed as he rammed the forklift into a crated filled with drain cleaner. This crate he shattered violently against the wall and he almost smiled, watching the wood splinter and crack around it, spilling its contents. Soon he had poured out gallons of drain cleaner, enough to unclog an entire city of toilets. One more crate would be overdoing and two would be just insane he thought, so he threw in four. The small NADS ducks quietly melted as he sealed the door off with the forklift.

The pipe slowly filled with gas as he walked out of the room and into the mall, covered in waste water, smelling like waste water.

He pulled out a small control box and pressed the small button on it.

Constantine felt the first vibrations under his feet. The first shrill scream came from the mens room as a man ran making high pitch squeals covered in excrement. Soon every toilet and every sink erupted in a fountain of waste water in the mall. Sewer vents on the roof shot spray high into the air, covering everything in the parking lot with a fine foul mist.

Outside the Captain listened for Constantine. What he heard was a low rumble, like a thunderstorm in the distance. The thought occurred to him that Constantine might have over done the plan to neutralize the nerve gas. The next thought was to run and to run fast.

“Get in the van,” he shouted.

One by one each manhole blew into the air like 200 pound frisbees, showering anyone who wasn’t lucky enough to get into the van in time with waste water. Soon every pipe was gushing it’s own fountain, completely covering the van as everyone huddled inside. Constantine walked up to the van with a smug smile, knocking on the door. The Captain stared back at him almost smiling as a tampon swished back and forth on the windshield wiper.

All the main entrances to the mall had large archways with bright colors, huge columns, and incredible signs that one could see from across the massive parking lot, like a beacon from across a sea of asphalt announcing its message of buy and spend to the masses that flocked to it.

In the small corner behind a high unassuming white wall were the unseen guts that kept the mall moving. Loading docks lined one side, their cavernous mouths ready to accept the trucks that came regularly to offload their contents. Lining the opposite wall were row after row of large metal dumpsters, their age showing through the chipped paint and rust. It was mid day, and the area was deserted, since the trucks only came in the early and late hours to provide the illusion of pristine shopping conditions, as if everything had just sort of grew there on the shelf.

All along the concrete and asphalt driveways were a maze of access tunnels and manhole covers. Harold watched as the Captain and Constantine slowly pried free a large rusted lid releasing a stench that made everyone, even the pirate reenactors, retch in revulsion.

“I hate you all,” Constantine said to everyone, he gave a particular scowl to Jack whose smirk was more than obvious. “If for some reason I do not come back, just remember that I hate you,” he said again through gritted teeth and a barely constrained rage.

“Aww but I packed you a duffel,” Jack said laughing. “Here you have an up-link mic cabled to this base unit so we can reel you back just like a sewer fish, a toxic gas meter, a headlamp, and oh, a moist towelette,” Jack said.

“I so hate you,” he said before climbing down the ladder into black stench filled darkness. When he had disappeared from sight, Harold could hear a metallic clang followed by a loud splash. This was followed by some of the most colorful words Harold had ever heard coming through the scratchy speakers of the base unit. When Constantine’s tirade was over, he simply said “I am on my way through the tunnel, and I hate all of you.”

For the first hour everyone sat and listened intently to the base station to hear Constantine’s labored breathing, which was interrupted periodically with long rants filled with words even the pirates had not heard before. During the second hour most everyone forgot about Constantine and half the pirates were swash buckling their swords together in a sort of impromptu LARP game with Jack, who kept complaining about being killed, while the other half watched giving the appropriate arrghs.

“I found them, and I hate all of you,” Constantine said.

“Aww, but we were having so much fun,” the captain said laughing.

“You all are a bunch of puke brained….”

At this point I the narrator must interject and let you know that although the internet is a foul and vile place at times, being a fair reflection of humanity, it is not my intention to add to it. Yes Constantine is waist deep in human dookie. I know that if I were in human dookie you would hear words that I save for special occasions, like when my Windows box blue screened like it did just a while ago. Yes, the words came out like a foul mouthed exotic garden. But these rants are like performance art and lose their charm except in the moment. So I ask you dear reader to please imagine yourself waist deep in human dookie. Imagine the words flowing from your lips, foul mouthed cuss words, the words your parents told you not to say that they did anyway when they were really pissed. Or just say dookie a lot, because every time I do it makes me giggle.

“Arrrrgh!” the pirates shouted as they charged. They ran down the hallways screaming and laughing as they went. The industrial fluorescents lights were buzzing overhead like flies. All the offices were empty as they ran, pausing intermittently to catch their breath as their enthusiasm surpassed their fitness.

They rounded a corner, grabbing three men and shouting their best arrrghs at them. The two that grabbed the captain found themselves on the floor, one with his arm wrenched behind his shoulder.

“Wait, not these guys. These are the ones that needed rescuing,” Harold said.

“These shabby unwashed raisin be the ones that need rescuing,” one of the pirates said.

“Well, yes, they were supposed to be in a cell, not wandering about,” Harold said rather annoyed.

The pirates looked at the three pale middle aged men dressed in dirty clothes, unshaven, and with goofy well worn smiles.

“Pirates…arrrgh,” they shouted as the men ran in a mob out of the security office.

Outside the men piled into large camper van that was painted to look like a ship.

The men outside were still beating the Mall Ninja with riot batons while the protesters filmed them with video camera that would be later edited and placed on Utube.

“We need a plan N,” the Captain said.

“Don’t you mean…um plan b,” Harold said.

“Well, we ran out of those plans a long time ago,” the Captain said.

“Crap, you are going so say the Hershey tunnel aren’t you,” Constantine said gritting his teeth.

“Yes,” the Captain said.

“These are my best shoes,” Constantine said.

Outside

A group began to gather outside the mall. Each person was dressed in a full back suit and wore a Guy Fawkes mask. They made up a mass of undifferentiated bodies. Each held a camera and a megaphone.

Opposite them lining the entrance to the mall were the soldiers in uniforms of full battle armor dressed in dark blue. Their shields reflected the growing mob in front of them as did their uneasy stares. Each solider held a club and wore government tear gas on their hip.

The two groups stood in silence. The soldiers in tight neat rows, the mob in front of them in a mass. The soldiers leader shouted into a megaphone “Cease and disperse or you will be arrested. You do not have a permit to protest here,” he said.

The mass of people they shouted out said nothing.

The soldiers watched as the mob grew. Bodies seemed to swarm from the shadows to stand silent in masked faces reflecting neither emotion or identity.

Inside

The Mall Ninja faced off against the pirates who looked at him in confusion as he swung the police baton in the air screaming as he rushed forward “It’s nine, I knew it was nine,” he screamed.

“Stop,” Harold screamed.

“These are not the men you are looking for,” Harold said staring the Mall Ninja in the eye.

“These are not the men I am looking for,” the Mall Ninja said, looking at Harold with a confused look on his face.

“Now go outside and fight the Zombies like a good little crazy person,” Harold said with a sigh.

Outside

The Mall Ninja walked outside and saw the horde that had gathered in front of the mall. “I knew it, now is my chance to go down in glory,” he said before charging the line of police soldiers swinging his baton.

Upside Down

The Bullet walked into Jack’s cell and wondered why the man was sitting on his head.

“I think better this way, it rushes the blood to the brain,” Jack said in answer to the question that hadn’t yet been asked. “Your two friends have already told me everything. I just need you to confirm their stories,” The Bullet said.

“Dude, I already know how it went. The Captain said something weird and Constantine just complained the whole time,” Jack said.

“Have you ever heard of water boarding,” the Bullet said.

“Sure, but I am not much of a sports type person,” Jack said.

Inside Again

“Who wants to be a real pirate and help me break my friends out of the Mall security office,” Harold said to the crowd of pirate reenactors.

“If you be one to talk like a pirate, ya have to Arrrrrgggg!” one of the pirates said.

“Fine, Arrrrrgh who wants to help me get some friends from Mall security…arrrgh,” Harold said trying to sound somewhat pirate like.

“We will do it for the press. Business be slow,” another pirate said. “Arrrrrgh!” they all screamed together and ran toward the security office.

Outside the security office were men with guns, and the pirates stopped, rethinking their charge.

Harold watched as the Mall Ninja attempted to charge through the line of police soldiers screaming something about zombies and the number nine. At first one cop began to beat him with a club, and then five seemed to be beating him, and then it seemed cops were falling over themselves to beat him. Finally, the cops in front of the security office ran outside to beat him until the entire mall police force was busy beating one guy in front of a confused mob of protesters.

The pirates seemed confused for a moment before screaming “Arrrrgh” and running into the security office.

Upside Down Again

“I am going to get what I need to know out of one of you,” the Bullet said.

“I will never tell you where the rebel base is,” Jack said.

“But I never asked about a rebel base,” the Bullet said.

“I know, I have just always wanted to say that,” Jack said.

“Tell me why you are here,” the bullet said sighing.

“It is so weird that you have no idea what our mission is man,” Jack said.

“You hang out with the Captain long enough, you find out that nothing is ever what you think it is or what you want it to be. It is so annoying,” Jack said smiling.

“Everything is exactly how it is supposed to be. You are a fat lazy psychotic,” The Bullet said.

“Hey, do you have any pudding?” Jack said holding up a spoon.

The Bullet grunted in frustration and grabbed the spoon out of Jack’s hand. He felt a sharp pain that spread from his hand out to his body as every muscle in his body tensed out of control. He slumped to the floor grunting in pain as Jack quietly slipped out of the room.

Harold slumped into his stool and brooded. He was back home and where he started. The ride was over. Everything was normal, and he found there was nothing more depressing than normal.

The men next to him were loud, screaming loud. They sang in deep voices that carried with it a certain hilarity. He watched them sing, waving their drinks in the air sloshing most of it on counter and floor.

He needed a plan, and one wasn’t going to fall like a lump into his brain he thought.

The men sang a sort of sailor song in unison about the sea, meeting girls, and being outlaws.

“Outlaws, they have no idea what law is,” Harold said to himself.

The music stopped suddenly and all five men were looking at him. “What did you say, little sweet pea,“ one man said with arms like a bear and a belly that looked like he had swallowed a beach ball.

“I don’t have time for this,” Harold said. He was beyond being scared, he needed a plan.

Meanwhile

The Bullet was elated. He had everyone he needed. The Sea Rat crew would be processed, and the box checked. The only formality was the interrogation. He loved formalities almost as much as he loved checking boxes.

“First question Captain, what did you honestly hope to accomplish by coming here?” the Bullet said.

“To hear truth, one must first open the door,” the Captain said.

“What?” the Bullet said. “Perhaps after a few hours with the interrogation team, you will make more sense.

“The wind may howl, but the mountain still does not move,” the Captain said.

The Bullet walked out of the cell and slammed the door. “Cryptic bastard,” The Bullet thought. He opened the next cell.

Harold could see the man’s yellow teeth in disgusting detail. His breath smelled like a chicken’s butt. “What did you say?” the man said holding up a cutlass under this throat.

“You can’t stab me with that,” Harold said.

“What, you don’t think I have the guts?” the man said wheezing.

“No, it’s made out of cardboard with aluminum foil wrapped around it,” Harold said.

The man looked down and smiled. “Well of course it is. We are the Northern Blue Ridge Pirate reenactors club,” he said laughing.

“A round for my friend,” he said as the whole group burst into another shanty song.

Meanwhile again

“Your Captain has already told me everything. I just need to collaborate your story,” The Bullet said.

Constantine growled. “We have been in a smelly little boat off and on for twenty years. The Captain never says everything. Oh sure, go ahead and use your fancy interrogation tactics, puke brain,” Constantine said, spit flying wildly. “Mr. Government corporate man, think you hold all the strings eh,” Constantine said getting even more worked up that usual.

Periodically, The Bullet would try to interrupt his tirade, before finally giving up and slamming the door behind him. “Angry bastard,” he said to himself.

Back to Harold Again

The Mall Ninja flung open the door to the restaurant with a satisfying slam, causing everyone to stop and look towards the door.

“Ha, there is the nine of you,” the Mall Ninja said. With a scream he rushed at the Pirate reenactors swinging a police baton.

 

 Meanwhile [7:11m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

“Dude take this spoon”

“Why…spoon aahhh!” Harold said as he felt pain radiate through his fingers, up his arms, and spread making every muscle throughout his body twitch. His body went limp and he collapsed.

He opened his eyes to see the Captain, Constantine, and Jack standing over him sipping their coffee smiling.

“Hot waffles, it works!” Jack said laughing so hard that his cheeks wobbled.

“Why can’t it ever be soap that works for you?” Harold said getting up, his muscles aching.

“I made a tazer that can be disguised as anything,” Jack said beaming. I took all your standard tazer components, like transformers, capacitors, a oscillator, and a large lithium ion batter and threw them together and attached these wires to it. You touch the wires, you get bit,” Jack said as he showed Harold the box.

“Does it have a purpose other than for your amusement?” Harold said.

“Not yet,” Jack said.

“We might find a use for it tomorrow,” the Captain said.

The Mall of America

Harold sat in the van and could feel the temperature lower through the miles. He was back in Minnesota and his bones could feel it. He was relieved that he wasn’t going home and instead might just be killed by the plumbers.

Harold marveled at the monstrosity to capitalism every time he saw the Mall. It was massive and sprawling. The building was four stories high and stretched out for miles.

“Ahh the fortress of evil,” Constantine said narrowing his bushy red eyebrows.

“Hot Waffles, it has three roller coasters,” Jack said giddily as he ran through the mall.

“Umm why do you keep saying hot waffles?” Harold said getting annoyed.

“I read it on a T-shirt. It has do with some video game, and it’s all over the internet,” Jack said.

“Oh that must make it cool,” Harold said sighing.

“It is cool, so cool that it hasn’t even hit wikipedia yet, that’s how cool it is,” Jack said.

“If you kids are ready, the security door is over here,” Constantine said.

The door led deep into the bowels of the mall. Fat pipes snaked around hallways and over ceilings. Constantine looked down at the map and scowled, the way he scowled at everything.

“I hope there is a piece a cheese at the end of this,” the Captain said.

“The warehouse should be right down this hallway,” Constantine said, still scowling at the map.

“Ummm Constantine,” Harold said.

“What! I have an army to navigate around in this rat maze puke brain,” Constantine said scowling harder at the map.

“Well we have good news for you Constantine,” the Captain said.

“What!” Constantine yelled as he twisted his face into an even deeper scowel.

“We ummm found the army,” the three said in unison.

Constantine looked up to see men dressed in black, large rifles held at their shoulders as they pointed small laser sites at their heads.

The Bullet walked up from behind the men, a delighted look on his face.

“Ah I knew I would find you eventually, and in a spot so convenient to the prison,” The Bullet said.

“We don’t need you little mole, he isn’t on my list,” the Bullet said.

“Get out of here Harold and don’t look back,” the Captain said.

 

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