Mr Viper goes to work
Chapter 1
THE SETUP
Viper dozed. This was a nice place to visit, this dream-like realm situated just between the worlds of sleep and wakefulness. Every sound perceived, and yet filtered through several layers of detachment from reality.
The right noise could rouse him, however. In this case, a door opening.
"Just resting my eyes, sir!" he muttered, reaching for his keyboard in a vague charade of productivity.
"Relax, it's just me." Otacon smirked. "Up late again?"
Viper yawned. "I had to finish Tron Bonne... important." He blinked a few times, painfully. With each downward movement, his eyelids seemed less and less willing to make the return journey.
"I was going for coffees. Want one?"
"Mnuuh." Viper was less than enthusiastic.
Otacon took a more assertive line. "Have a coffee, Viper. ...No need to respond, you can just thank me later," he continued, seeing Viper's reluctance to remain awake. With that, he was gone, although in a sense Viper had left the room before him.
In this world, time was a flexible resource. An hour could fly by in a heartbeat. Just as easily, a minute could creep past like a tectonic plate. The only measurement system available was his fluctuating level of awareness, and this was completely arbitrary in its cycles. Thus was it that the amount of time that passed was impossible to gauge with any accuracy.
"Just resting my eyes, sir!" Another half-hearted flurry of activity in the cluttered office.
"We are jumpy, aren't we? I brought your coffee. I recommend you drink it." Otacon set the drink down on top of a pile of paper. "Would you mind joining us in the land of the living and doing some work at some stage? I mean, who do you imagine is taking up the slack? A.I. isn't child's play. We have to be relatively sentient ourselves if we hope to develop a new sentience."
"Combat A.I. doesn't have to be too subtle," mumbled Viper. His words were slow and deliberate, as though he had to think carefully about how to generate them in his vocal chords.
"This thing has to be able to command armies! It'll be in charge of nukes! I mean... it may just be for a computer game, but we should still be professional."
Viper dismissed him with a wave. "Have to catch up on sleep. Let me be."
Otacon leaned back to peer at Viper through the closing door as he left. "You'll be in trouble if our supervisor catches you napping!"
"My instincts are... are..." But Viper said no more.
Through a combination of conduction and convection currents, Viper's coffee gradually decreased in temperature until it reached thermal equilibrium with its surroundings. Viper was completely unaware of this, and also, for once, the opening door. The first thing he noticed was a hand being brought down vigorously onto his shoulder.
"Pondering the complexities of this A.I. problem? Good man!"
"Whnh?" Viper stared about in confusion. The blurred features of his supervisor gradually came into focus. "H-hello, sir. Uh, I was just... looking over these..."
The sharply-dressed man grinned extravagantly. "No need to explain. It's all so much jargon to me anyways. I see you've been really absorbed by this one. You haven't touched your drink!" He strode around to Viper's right, still resting one hand on his shoulder like a friendly Vulcan death grip. "I admire your dedication. You see a problem, and you go straight for the jugular, don't you? You seize its throat in your mighty jaws and start shaking it, and you won't stop until its trachea has been severed or its spine broken. I admire that."
"Uh... thank you, sir." Viper was still wondering what the catch was.
"That's what I always say about you, O'Sullivan. Work hard, play hard, that's you all over." A pause. "In fact, that's precisely what I've come to talk about."
Ah.
The supervisor reached into his jacket pocket, and produced a miraculously uncreased sheet of paper. "This shows details of your internet usage on company servers over the past month. Frankly, I can't see the relevance of many of these sites to your work. It seems you have a habit of downloading music from old computer games on company time. Is this right?"
"Uh, no, no, sir. It's... well, maybe sometimes, but only... strictly only during my designated break periods. And I... you see, if you look at those, they're not... uh, I wasn't..." A deep breath. Start again. "You see, sir, those aren't what you think they are. Those are just, uh..." Curse the intellectual fog of sleep deprivation! "Um... pornography. Yeah, that'll... have to do..."
The grip on Viper's shoulder seemed to loosen. "Now, at ArmsTech we do take a dim view of this sort of thing."
"I assure you it won't happen again..." Viper was reduced to gabbling stock phrases.
His supervisor frowned. "Well, we're seeing to that. I'm sorry, O'Sullivan, but the company has no choice but to let you go. Your fate will serve as an example to others."
Viper blinked. The horizon had vanished. "I'm... fired?"
"Please! We don't use that word here at ArmsTech. Unless it's in connection with weaponry of some sort. Which we don't make any more, ha ha! But no, we would rather say you have been permanently reassigned." A shrug. "Don't take it too harsh. You probably would have gone with next month's budget cuts anyway. Heh." The crocodile smile soon faded. "Clear out your desk by the end of the day, there's a good man."
Chapter 2
THE QUEST
"This," said Jim, twixt mouthfuls, "is some good food." He continued attacking his mountains of potato.
Squallid, on the other hand, was in some difficulty. "I think I'm dying..."
Yud tried to push his plate away. "Damn it, Jim, this happens every time. Why the hell do you have to cook so much?"
The sanctity of mealtime. They had adapted to a system of taking it in turns to cook. Today's concoction had had a mixed reception. It hadn't gone down badly as such; it was just that in most cases it hadn't gone down at all. Yud still had absurd quantities of the uniform brown mulch on his plate. Some were still making valiant efforts to finish, whilst others had given up all hope. Viper hadn't even begun.
Jim tried to ignore his fellow diners' signs of distress. "Well, I'll just cook a bit less next week."
"You said that last week," Chokie observed.
"And tomorrow we're going to be living on scraps." Eskimo was unusually coherent. "My metabolism can't cope. At least with Loony you had consistency."
"I concur," concurred Nevermore. "I think this'll need a little more seasoning if I'm going to finish it. Who's got the salt?" He looked around. "Viper?"
"ALL RIGHT! I lost my job today! There, are you happy!?" Viper's fists were full of mashed potato. "Now will you just leave me alone?"
There was a brief silence. Such a startling new development in the conversation would take everybody a few moments to fully process.
Nevermore was the first to regain his grip on reality. "You got fired?"
Viper seemed to shrink slightly, and stared listlessly at his disrupted plate. "So it seems."
Another silence followed. Whoever spoke next would have to strike a sufficiently diplomatic balance between sympathy and mockery. They stared at one another, trying to read the atmosphere. Viper stared at his fork.
"That's a shame, Viper." The voice belonged to Miss Choco. "You'd better find another job, and fast."
"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"
"No, Paddy, it is not. How do you think we can afford to live in this place? By flagrantly violating fire regulations and having lots of people earning money! God knows the comic alone can't fund us. Nevermore does his bit, Jim has been known to take on a little minimum wage employment, and I don't want to know how, but Eskimo sometimes brings home quite a lot of money. Either Viper gets back to work," and her eyes burned into Paddy at this point, "or someone else does. Understand?"
Paddy realised he was flinching, and tried to recover. "Y-yeah. Viper, do what she said."
Viper slumped in his chair. "I hate jobhunting."
"Who doesn't?" Jim smiled.
Viper sighed. "Okay, I'll start later. Right after a quick bout of Streetfighter." He got up to leave the room, as Eskimo had done a couple of minutes earlier without being noticed.
"Ah..!" Viper froze at Chocobo's warning. "I don't think so. Would I be right in guessing that it was your late-night gaming habits that got you sacked in the first place?"
"Actually..."
"No, I'm having none of it. I'm stashing the SNES, Viper. You can have it back when you're earning again."
Viper groaned. "Oh, I really hate this." He glanced at Jim and Nevermore, who preoccupied themselves studying the intricate texture of the ceiling. "Right, okay, you win. I'll have a look in the paper."
The meal seemed to have reached an unofficial conclusion. Jim set about gathering the leftovers for freezing. They'd been building up quite a collection over the weeks; in fact, they were considering investing in a second freezer. "We can finish these another day," he muttered to himself. Again. The others were already busying themselves in the other room. The comic was running late, as usual. Yud had taken much longer than usual to finish the script. Opinion was divided over whether he was up to something, or just lazy. In any case, they were now working like demons to finish on schedule.
Viper gazed unhappily at the job adverts. None of them looked particularly promising. Again, he cursed the powers-that-be at ArmsTech. Sure, that hadn't been such a great job either, but he didn't see any prospective employer here who would let him get away with doing so little work. They all seemed to involve interacting with the public, who in his experience were irritatingly astute when it came to spotting laziness. Sometimes, he reflected, they could see it where it didn't exist.
Oh well. He would just have to pick the least worst one. He grabbed a pen, closed his eyes, and began to make spiralling motions.
Chapter 3
ELABORATION
Paddy sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. He appeared to be in deep thought. Occasionally his brow would furrow and he would search the air for inspiration. Next to him, Nevermore was trying with some difficulty to watch television. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Eventually, impatience got the better of him.
"Paddy, could you stop that? You're distracting me. I can practically hear you thinking. What's so important?"
Paddy closed his eyes in frustration, his concentration broken. "I'm trying to think of ways to make money. You know what Miss Chocobo said. If I do my bit, then there'll be more reasons not to throw me out." He tried to return to his meditations, poised with a pencil held perpendicular to his left ear. He waved his right hand up and down in an effort to channel inspirations.
Nevermore smiled. "What exactly did you have in mind? Some get-rich-quick scheme?"
Paddy relaxed again. "I won't know until I've thought of it!"
"You've not considered employment? The W word? Pardon the blasphemy and all, but..."
Paddy shook his head vigorously. "No, no thanks. My last paid job was no fun. I've generally been dealt a bad hand by capitalism on the whole. I did work in a warehouse once."
"What happened?"
"Didn't last," Paddy sighed. "I ended up losing my job after new regulations meant the company expected me to work a 35 hour week every day."
Nevermore glanced at a cobweb on the ceiling. "I see..." He returned his attention to the conversation. "So, what did..."
But Paddy wasn't listening any more. He stared at the TV, rapt. "Got it! Do we have a video camera?"
"Uh, I seem to recall one, yes. If there's a tape in, don't overwrite it..."
"Gotcha!" Paddy leapt up and headed for the storage cupboard at a dead run. He almost collided with Yud at the door. Yud shouted a few obscenities through the doorway and carried on. For a moment he appeared to be approaching Nevermore, but veered off at the last minute after an apparent internal struggle. After looking wildly about himself, he finally went over to Chocobo, who was enjoying a moment of calm between bouts of deadline panic.
"Uh, hi, Cho'..." He glanced around nervously.
She looked up. "Yes, what is it, Yud?"
"Uh, you're, you know, a girl, right?"
"Last time I checked."
"Right. I was wondering..." He hesitated. Chokie stared at him expectantly. He lowered his voice slightly and pressed on. "Well, what attracts you to people? What kind of thing makes you like someone? As a girl."
Chocobo looked duly concerned. "Yud... why are you asking me this?"
"Uh, I can't tell you. Look, what if you were more vain and dependent, less intelligent, and slightly more self-destructive? What would you look for in a guy then?"
"What? I don't know... sullen manner, childish behaviour, self-importance and occasional bouts of violent rage? Is this a joke or something? Are you recording me?" The surreal nature of the situation made her unsure when to bring violence into play.
"No, no, it's... uh, just forget it, okay? Forget I asked. Sorry to bother you." Yud backed away making desperate gestures intended to ward off any physical blows or psychic attacks. He started to make his unsteady way to the kitchen. As he passed by the sofa, Nevermore turned round, resting his elbow on the back cushion, and grinned unpleasantly.
"Who's the lucky girl?"
"Argh!" Yud became once more conspicuously jumpy. "You don't say anything, got it!?" he hissed.
Nevermore smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it..." He yawned, changed the channel a few times and looked around. No more potential disturbances on the horizon. "I think," he mused, "a little of the liquid bread would be in order..."
As Nevermore strode towards the kitchen, Chocobo looked up from the accounts. They were making her head spin. Normally she encountered little trouble, but this time there was the added hassle of finding a loophole in the fundamental laws of mathematics in order to make the income greater than the expenditure. It was tough going. So far all of the numbers were still equal to themselves. She needed a break to clear her head. "Time to berate the slave monkeys," she muttered, standing up and heading for the studio.
And then the room was miraculously empty, although at one point Paddy did run in for a blank video before darting out the front door.
Chapter 4
INTERLUDE
The two men sit on the steel walkway. They are surrounded by cogs and gears. Day in and day out, they listen to the machinery counting time. The rest of their lives, divided into easily digestible slices. They cannot stand. They are handcuffed to the railings. Each has his right hand free. They never make any attempt to escape. It only leads to pain and disappointment.
The two men wear suits. The suits are somewhat the worse for wear. One man's tie has become badly stained. The other's has vanished completely. There is an unpleasant smell. If you stay in the room for long enough, you can get used to it. They have.
There is a pair of scissors between the two men. They can reach the scissors with their right hands, which are not restrained. The scissors are occasionally put to use, and both men still sport crude executive hairstyles. Their stubble is occasionally trimmed. There is no way to judge how long they have been here.
The sun streamed through the clock face, filtered through the cogs and walkways, and illuminated the dust suspended in the air before them. The man with a tie blinked. He was staring at the scissors. The light reflected off them and illuminated a spot on his cheek.
It may have been a Saturday. It probably wasn't.
"I hallucinated again last night."
The man without a tie looked across the walkway at his companion. "A dream?"
An emphatic shake of the head. "No, definitely a hallucination. I saw the Angel of Death. It stood tall in the clock face. It was night outside, but the Angel was lit brightly from behind. I couldn't explain it. The Angel wasn't emitting light itself. It was dark, the deepest black I ever saw. Maybe everything else just looked light by comparison. But the Angel was what held my attention. It seemed to look at me, and then it leapt across the room onto one of the platforms. It walked along slowly. I couldn't see it any more, but I could hear its footsteps. It was walking along the same path he walks, you know? Slowly. Every footstep was like a bell tolling, or the slam of a great metal door. And I knew it was making its way to us. I don't know how it got down, but next time I saw it was on our platform, and slowly stepping towards me. I could see it more clearly then. It had long thin limbs, like some sort of insect. Wings, too. But they were just the shadows of wings. How it could fly with them, I don't know. They were just the frameworks of wings, you know? But looking at it, I knew it could fly with them, if it wanted to. It could do anything. It didn't have a face, not one I could see. But you could tell where it was looking. Don't ask me how. I could tell. It was looking at me. The Angel stepped towards me and all I could do was sit and watch it. I wasn't even tensed up. I just watched, as it came closer and closer... and then stopped. It stopped... behind you. Staring at me so hard I swear it could read my soul. And then it raised its arm... and it pointed at you. That was the last I knew. It suddenly raised up, spread its wings and took off. That thing soared out of the room so gracefully. So damn gracefully. And you slept through the entire thing."
The man with a tie was shaking slightly. The man without a tie stared at him wordlessly. Then he laughed. "You're strange, you know that? Have I ever told you that?"
"Yes. You have."
The man without a tie sighed. "Oh, snap out of it. It meant nothing, you know? It was just a dream."
"It wasn't a dream."
"It was a dream! Come on, take your mind off it. Talk about something else."
The man with a tie thought for a moment, staring into the shadows. "Did you dream?"
Another sigh. "Yeah, actually. I try not to, but I can't help myself. I dreamt of the company again. I always think about it, see? I wonder how the stock price is doing, how they're holding up. Whether they're adapting to the market, things like that. It's an ever-changing market. I hope things are still okay when I get back."
"You shouldn't think like that. We're never going back."
"Speak for yourself. Personally, I'm a glass-is-half-full man."
The man with a tie shook his head mournfully. "You have to realise. We've left that life behind, you know? This is all there is now. Our previous lives may as well never have existed. This is all there is. Often I doubt anything else exists. The outside world. What use is it to us? It doesn't exist any more."
"It does."
"It doesn't exist." A look of anger had crossed the face of the man with a tie.
The other man stared at him silently for a few seconds before speaking. "He exists," he muttered sullenly.
They sat for a few minutes in thought. He did exist. That was one thing they could both be sure of. He still existed.
The man without a tie shook his head sadly. "Oh, let's just forget it all for now, okay? Let's have a game. Come on, charades. You first."
The man with a tie thought for a moment. Then, he shifted to bring his free hand closer to his restrained one. With some effort, he moved the free hand in a circular motion next to the other one, which he was making a cylindrical shape with. The gesture approximately resembled the operation of a film camera.
"Three Men And A Baby," the man without a tie responded instantly.
The man with a tie nodded his head wordlessly.
"We've been playing this for too long, haven't we? I'm reading you like a book these days. You'd think I was some kind of psychologist or something."
"You majored in psychology."
"What?"
"You told me you majored in psychology."
"Did I? I guess I was joking."
The man with a tie stared at him with burning eyes. "I have no idea how long I've believed that. You lied to me."
"I was just kidding around."
"You're a liar. Goddamnit, what else have you lied about!?" He slammed his fist down on the walkway.
"Nothing! Jesus, why are you so touchy? I swear you weren't always like this."
The man with a tie was barely listening. "I can't believe you lied to me. How can I even trust you about anything else? Are you who you say you are? Your job? Your family? Your name? Do I even know your name?"
"Just calm down..."
"What's your name? What's your name!?"
The man without a tie shrugged as expansively as was possible, given the circumstances. He was angry now. "I told you my name!"
"What... is... your... name!?" The man with a tie raised his fist.
And then the door opened.
They always stop what they're doing when the door opens. They know that it will always be him that walks through the door. To hope for salvation would be pointless. They can never see him, but they hear his footsteps as he strolls along the walkway above them. They don't shout at him. It would be a waste of breath. After a moment, the footsteps stop, and two containers of frozen food drop down onto their walkway. The footsteps recede and the door closes.
They watch the food defrost. They have nothing better to do.
Chapter 5
A SUBPLOT
Rabid Chocobo leafed through the previous day's work. They had made some progress after dinner, but were still woefully behind schedule. "This is shoddy stuff," she muttered. "Between Yud's half-assed script, Jim's lazy sketching and this rushed inking, we're in for a pretty bad issue. The worst for a long time." She sighed. "I need a... I need to take up some bad habit, and do some of it right now."
"Things'll work out," Nevermore reassured her, not entirely convincingly.
She picked up her coffee in a shaky hand, and took a sip. Nevermore glanced at the reams of paperwork on her desk. The coffee cup was returned to its home in amongst them. "Give me some good news. How was Viper's quest going?"
Nevermore took a deep breath. "Not so bad, as far as I could tell. He went to try a few places this morning. I'm sure he'll land on his feet somehow or other."
"Huh, he'd better. Is there anyone here who hasn't dropped their standards lately? Apart from Jim; he doesn't have any standards."
Nevermore thought for a moment. "You?"
She paused a moment, then smiled. "Thanks. But I'd swear we're in a decline. I mean, what's gotten into Yud lately? He's not concentrating on his work."
Nevermore leaned confidentially towards her. "Between you, me, the wall, and Eskimo, who appears to be hanging on a rope outside the window, I think he's too busy planning something else. Probably trying to get even with Jim for something or other. He went out early this morning; why, I know not."
"If one of them doesn't bury the hatchet soon," she snarled, "I will. Believe me." She put her elbow on the desk and rested her forehead on her hand, drumming her fingers on her scalp. "Go through there, would you, and tell that lot that if they make enough progress in the next two hours, I'll let them have some breakfast."
"Consider it done," grinned Nevermore as he got up and left.
Miss Choco remained in her seat, slowly drumming her fingers. After a couple of minutes, she glanced at the window, but there was no sign of Eskimo. Maybe Nevermore had been joking.
Before she could ponder too long on this mystery, the door opened. After a theatrical pause, Yud strolled in. He was wearing a battered leather jacket, old-looking jeans adorned with chains, absurdly large boots and an urban camouflage T-shirt. He sauntered across the room, kicked over a bin and leaned against the wall.
"Yud..?" enquired Chokie, after a stunned pause.
"Yeah, hi," he responded distantly. "Notice anything different about me?"
"Have you done something with your hair?"
"Yes!" He momentarily struck a triumphant pose, but quickly reverted to his previous slouch. "And what's more, I've changed other aspects of my image."
"Yud, how much did that outfit cost you?"
"Oh, quite a lot," he mumbled, almost to himself. "It costs a lot of money to make jeans look this old. I believe camo's in vogue at the minute. And then there's the motorbike."
"You WHAT!? You bought a motorbike? Yud, how exactly can you buy all this stuff when we're living on a financial knife edge? I certainly didn't give you permission to be able to afford things."
Yud yawned. "Relax, I used credit. Sure, they'll repossess it all in a month or so, but I'll be done with it by then."
Chocobo's patience was nearing its end. "But what are..?" There it went. "Oh, just get out of my sight, will you? And stay there until I'm in a better mood. Which may be never."
Yud began to mooch lazily towards the corridor. "Whatever," he intoned, bored. On his way out he casually took a picture off the wall and smashed its frame against the doorway.
She stared after him, perplexed. What had got into him? And why had he become so disinterested and detached from everything? It was such an annoying way to behave. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.
"I don't want to know," she mumbled, "I don't want to know, I don't want to know..."
Chapter 6
THE SHOP
Kunio liked to open the shop early. He relished the few minutes at the start of the day when there were no customers. This, in his view, was the ideal state for the shop. Everything on the correct shelf, no unsightly queues. Just him, his drink, some reading matter, and the silent flicker of a television screen. Customers only made the place look untidy. He leaned back in his seat a little further. Here he was in his element, surrounded by games, comics, posters and figures. Here he was king.
This reverie was interrupted by the bell as the shop door opened. He sighed. "What is the matter with you people? Have you nothing better to do so early in the morning? Please dismiss yourself, I am not a home for wandering souls."
"Uh, I'm not a customer."
Kunio looked at the invader. The pinstripe jacket. The bandana. The army surplus shirt. "Have I seen your wretched visage here before?"
"Maybe. I've come about this advertisement." Viper brandished a newspaper cutting. "I'm interested in doing some part-time work here."
"Well!" Kunio turned round in his chair to face Viper and leaned on the counter in a businesslike fashion. "I regret to inform you, applicant, that I have no intention of taking on any further employees, of either the part-time or the full-time variety! I only have them put said advertisement in the newspaper so that I can enjoy the occasional benefit of seeing the crushed expression of disappointment that I am observing right now." He sat back. "Thank you and goodbye."
Viper was not happy. "I... I got up early for this!"
"Yes, it was quite funny, wasn't it?" Kunio had returned to his comic. "Now get out."
Viper resorted to indignant sputtering. "You... you complete jerk!"
"You're not impressing me," Kunio muttered in a singsong voice. "Now be a good boy and stand aside. A real customer approaches." He looked up. "Oh. I stand corrected."
"Hi, Viper," said Eskimo. "Can I have that Episode 2 poster, please? I can pay."
Kunio deigned to make eye contact. "Oh, really? To you, $4.50."
"Here you go." Eskimo held up a small paper bag and emptied some coins onto the counter. Some were completely blank. Some were star-shaped and bore the legend "75c". Others still were small, round and smooth, completely blank save for the marking: "20%".
"I'll have you know that these are not legal tender." Kunio pushed the coins back at Eskimo. "Come back when you're serious about purchasing."
"Okay. Sorry, Kunio. I'll leave... in just a minute." He continued to stand there, smiling.
Kunio was having none of it. "Did you hear me? Simpleton! Vacate the premises!"
Viper watched the two of them. If I know Eskimo he's up to something, he mused. He peered at the rows of shelves. Could he see a slight movement?
"Hey!" he shouted suddenly. In a rare moment of action, he ran towards the door, leapt to the ground and intercepted Squallid, who adapted his original plan of running out of the shop with an armful of old games into a new plan which involved him banging his head against the wall and falling unconscious.
"Viper!" Eskimo yelled, aghast. "You done ruined my plans!" He glared down at him. "You'll pay. You'll all pay." He produced a small spherical object from a voluminous pocket, threw it at the ground and vanished in a haze of smoke. When the smoke had cleared he ran out of the shop, stopping only to grab Squallid by the feet and drag him along with him. Squallid's head could be heard ricocheting off the paving stones as they sped down the street.
Kunio leaned forward in his seat. "Hmm. That was... passable, I suppose." Viper struggled into a sitting position. He guessed that this was as close Kunio got to praise. "It seems I underestimated you, Mr..?"
"Viper. Black Arts Viper."
"Very well. Since you seem so eager to prove yourself worthy, I suppose I might consider taking you on as security officer. On a trial basis, I might add, before you become too enthused."
Viper grinned widely. "Really? Thanks, Kunio! I won't let you down! I'll..."
"Don't grovel; it disgusts me. You can start today. You are not a contracted employee. You are not entitled to minimum wage. You will work the hours I dictate. In return you may choose what to show on the demonstration screen every other day. Always remember that the customer is very rarely right. We are superior to them, and I am superior to you. That is why I sit in this chair and you must wander the aisles all day. You may take fifteen minutes lunch break. Any thefts during that period will be deducted from your wages. Welcome aboard." With that, he sat back and absorbed himself in his comic again.
Viper climbed to his feet, quickly checked his joints for damage, and began his patrol.
Chapter 7
DISCUSSION
Paddy was somewhat the worse for wear. His face was bruised. His clothes were tattered. His hair was a mess. There were twigs in it. There was a semi-conscious stoat in his jacket pocket. His shoes made a squelching noise whenever he took a step. He clutched his video camera like the holy grail.
Chocobo tried to ignore him. "Right, I call to order this status meeting." She looked around. Jim sat at a computer. Nevermore and Squallid sat on the sofa. Eskimo was on the floor, rocking back and forth. Paddy stood by the door in a gradually expanding puddle. Yud was nowhere to be seen. It would have to do. "Okay. How's the inking and colouring going?"
Glances were exchanged. Nobody seemed overly willing to speak. This seemed like a shoot-the-messenger scenario if ever there was one. Eventually, Squallid timidly raised his hand. "We'd have done a lot more if Paddy hadn't been out all night."
"You and Eskimo took half an hour out to go shoplifting," Nevermore pointed out.
"I've been earning my keep, you know!" Paddy retorted, only slightly late. "Anyway, you got along fine by yourselves before I started here."
"That's not the issue!" exclaimed Eskimo. "You've got duties now!"
"You're a fine one to talk!"
"ENOUGH!" Chocobo pushed her chair back as she half-stood, leaning on the edge of the desk as though she was trying to push it over. The sight was enough to silence the room. And it was at this point that Yud made his entrance.
Jim, hitherto absorbed in childish music, took one look at Yud and snorted with laughter. "What the hell have you done with your hair?"
Yud trudged across the room, snatched the rodent from Paddy's pocket and threw it out the window. Then he slouched into his chair. "Who cares?"
Jim thought a moment. "You're right," he said, and returned to his computer.
"Yud," ventured Nevermore, "is this in aid of what I think it's in aid of?"
A snort of derision. "No."
"You're not me. You don't know what I'm thinking."
"You're not me," Yud retorted. "You don't know whether I know what you're thinking."
"You're not..."
"ENOUGH!" Chocobo repeated. "Shut up and get to work! Everyone! I want to see results, and fast! Don't make me employ the use of pain!"
This was enough to get everyone moving. They knew what was good for them. Right now it was getting out of the room as quickly as possible.
"Yud!" She wheeled round and pointed at him with a wavering hand. He was making his way casually for the front door. "Where do you think you're going!?"
"I'm going out."
"No, you're not. You're starting your next script early!"
"I don't feel like it." Yud continued out of the room as though the conversation hadn't happened.
Chocobo remained where she was for a moment, twitching. Then she strode to the filing cabinet, unlocked it, and retrieved a crowbar. Wielding it in her right hand, she went with a light gait out into the corridor which led to the lift and stairs. The lift doors had just closed. Wordlessly, she forced the crowbar between them and leaned on it to lever them apart. Placing the crowbar between the doors momentarily to hold them open as she ducked under it, she retrieved it again and leapt down two and a half floors onto the slowly descending car. She then proceeded to slam the crowbar repeatedly down onto the top of it and scream at the top of her voice.
"YOU'D BETTER BE READY FOR AGONY WHEN YOU COME BACK HERE, YUD! I'M GOING TO TEACH YOU WHAT IT REALLY MEANS TO LOOK BEELZEBUB IN THE EYE! YOU'RE GOING TO BEG FOR DEATH! DO YOU HEAR ME, YUD!? THERE'S NO HOPE FOR YOU!"
She continued to hammer and shout all the way to the ground floor, and for a minute or so afterwards until the hole in the roof of the car was big enough to fit through. Then she jumped down, ran through the lobby and into the street, in time to see Yud riding down the road on his bike, inexpertly, but still very quickly. In his absence, she continued to vent her rage on a lamp post.
The noise from the street filtered through the window into the main room, from which Paddy and Nevermore had a perfect view of the carnage.
"How many times have they had to replace that lamp post?" asked Paddy.
"I've lost count," Nevermore had to admit. "Better it than me. Anyway, what's this video you're so excited about?"
"Oh," Paddy grinned, waving the camera, "this is dynamite. Not literally, but it is. Wait until you see this. It's amazing."
"Would it by any chance be related to your recently acquired injuries?"
"Yeah! This is just three hours of me doing cool stuff! I ran through a shop front. I rode my bike off a bridge. I slapped a cop. I threw a match into the sewers. Amongst other things."
Nevermore looked dubious. "That's... interesting. May I ask why?"
"I'm going to make money sending it in to Jackass!"
"Er, Paddy... they never take any submissions from anyone, ever. It says so on every single broadcast."
Paddy's expression seemed to freeze. "Excuse me a moment, won't you." He turned round and walked into the storage cupboard.
Nevermore listened at the door for a few minutes to see whether the muffled thumps and swearing would stop, but they didn't.
Chapter 8
FORESHADOWING
Business was quiet. It often was. People don't like being insulted. Viper wondered, as he had done so many times he couldn't remember, how on earth Kunio was able to make a profit, alienating customers as much as he did.
Business was getting louder. A man in a light brown garment - was that a cape or an overcoat? - had walked in and marched up to the counter.
"Hey! Pie boy!"
Kunio granted him a brief glance, then returned to his comic.
"Service! Now!" The man was not easily deterred. "Look at me, damn it! I'm warning you! I could have you killed."
Kunio slowly turned his head to look at the irate customer. He left a pause before delivering his response. "You're disturbing my break, you sad little man."
"You..!" A glance at the watch. "How long have you been on your break?"
"Five hours, and counting."
The caped customer strode up and down a bit for effect. "I haven't got time to argue with you. Just tell your customers, or whoever it is that reads that moronic comic book you have here, tell them to stop calling that damn phone number!"
"You are gabbling. I'm going to have to ask you to make more sense or leave."
Viper spoke up. "You mean... the Plasmaline?"
Thrown for a moment, the stranger tried to look at both Viper and Kunio at once. He settled momentarily on Viper, who gave a slight start at the sight of his face. "Right." Then back to Kunio. "Make them stop! I don't care how. He doesn't live there any more!"
Kunio allowed himself a brief smirk. "Would you listen to yourself? 'He' is not a real person."
Mechninja narrowed his eyes. "Oh, how little you know."
"I recommend psychiatric help, my atrociously clad friend. You are talking about a fictional character. Now please leave my shop, before my unattractive assistant forcibly ejects you."
Viper tried to hide his face for a moment, but not with much enthusiasm. It was obvious that Mechninja didn't recognise him.
"Yeah? Well," Mechninja countered as he beat a gradual retreat, "you'd just better see to this, okay? Tell your customers to stop calling! Don't make me come over here again! I hate leaving the office unmanned. I'm short-staffed as it is..."
With that, he turned round and left in a swirl of fabric.
Kunio sniffed. "Weird."
Viper wished he had a broom to lean on. "Get many kooks like that in here?"
"Everyone who walks through that door is sub-normal."
Right on cue, the door swung open and in strode Eskimo assertively, followed by Squallid. They continued through the shop and came to a rest by the second hand games.
"That was my heterosexual walking," commented Eskimo.
"Very impressive," Squallid had to admit.
They proceeded on a lengthy stroll around the ailes and back again, unsubtly followed by Viper, who tried to keep an eye on their every move. The going got tough, however, when they split up and each began to take separate meandering routes around and around the shop. After a few minutes of this wordless ritual, Eskimo darted towards the exit. But Viper was one step ahead of him.
"Hold it right there, Eskimo! Empty your pockets."
"What!? This is a violation of my human rights. The embassy is going to hear about this."
"Do it!"
Eskimo sighed. "Okay..." He bagan to empty his pockets. It took a long time. After a while he was standing ankle deep in sweet wrappers, twigs, matches, marbles, lumps of amber and other assorted detritus. "Happy now?"
Viper sighed. "I suppose so."
"Then I'll gather my things and leave, thank you!" He did so, pushing past Viper and muttering incoherently. Squallid followed shortly afterwards, pausing only to throw a glove onto the ground.
Viper trudged over to the counter and allowed himself a brief lean. "Man, aren't we going to get any pleasant people in here today?"
"Shut up."
Viper sighed again. Work in the security business was not quite as glamorous as he had imagined it. His legs were tired and his mind was gradually turning to fungus. It was so boring. He couldn't remember how long he'd been walking around the tiny shop, and he hadn't even made a single collar. His knees were ready to die. It felt like he was getting heavier by the minute.
But hold on, what was this..? He really was heavier. Some mysterious items had materialised in his jacket pockets. "What have I..?" he muttered quietly, pulling them out.
Kunio's nostrils flared. He gritted his teeth in rage. Then he looked up. "Pokémon merchandise? Nekketsu Oyako!? What the hell are these doing in my store!?" His blood pressure was rising at an exponential rate. "The MGS official strategy guide!? I won't allow anything written by that hack in this store! Viper, what is the meaning of this!?"
"I... I don't know, Kunio! Really! They just turned up in my pockets! I'm sorry!"
Kunio had reached a plateau of calm rage. "Viper, this will not do. You have brought shame into my shop and personally insulted me."
Viper was mortified. "You're not going to... fire me, are you?"
"Yes. But first I'm going to order you to beat yourself up. Do it in the store room. But throw out that... garbage first."
Viper slung the offending items into the bin, and trudged mournfully through the 'staff only' door rolling up his sleeves. "I really hate this," he mumbled.
Kunio called after him. "And don't think you're getting paid!"
Chapter 9
THE SAME SUBPLOT
Chocobo was leafing frantically through the pages of the comic, or what she fervently hoped would become the comic. She continued with the lettering, her sanity hanging by a thread. She couldn't even hear the knocking at the door. After a few minutes of increasingly frenzied knocking, Yud finally deigned to get up and saunter over. He opened the door to reveal Tifa, poised to knock countless more times.
"Oh. It's you."
Tifa was slightly confused. Normally she was the one that said this. "Um... is Jim there?"
"Huh, I can't see what you'd want with him. Come in if you want, whatever. I reckon I'll bike out to some wasteland and torch abandoned cars or something." With that he pushed past her. She watched him step into the lift and vanish behind the badly dented doors.
After a moment she shook her head and blinked a few times. Since when did that guy have such an attitude? She looked around. This room was deserted, apart from the scary girl. Tifa stared at her with some trepidation, but she seemed dead to the world. Tifa hastily crept into the corridor. Not much sign of life. She passed the room on the corner, and took the opportunity to glance through the door, which was slightly ajar. There were people in there, but they were too busy to notice her. She recognised two of them, but the third looked new. He was slaving away at a computer screen. They all looked frightened. She lingered a moment, and then moved on. Finally she stopped at the middle bedroom, and tapped lightly on the door.
"I'm not falling for that again, Yud!" came a voice from within.
Tifa smiled. "It's not Yud!"
"...Then who is it?"
"Can't you tell?" she asked, with mock reproach.
"I'm hoping against hope that I'm wrong."
Tifa pushed the door open and walked in with a spring in her step. "Oh, you're silly!"
Jim was less than impressed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to barge in here!?"
"I knocked," Tifa explained.
"A man's room is his castle!" Everyone who worked on the comic was secretive like this. This was because most of them had something to hide. In most cases, it was hidden well. Jim's room looked for the most part innocuous. One wall was dominated with shelves of books and imported comedy videos. Another was taken up mostly by an immensely cluttered desk, and a couple of shelves of obscure trinkets interspersed with the occasional action figure. The rest of the room was taken up by essentials, such as the unmade bed and the half-empty wardrobe. The walls were covered with posters and amateurish drawings. All in all, the room was just as he liked it. With the sole exception of the smiling Tifa in the doorway.
"Are you busy?"
"Yes, very," Jim responded, relying on her innate lack of perception. "Could you please leave?"
"Okay." There was a god! "But first, I'll tell you something about me and you have to tell me something about you." Ah. Evidently He had a cruel sense of humour. "I'll go first. Did you know I have no sense of smell?"
Jim had slumped silently on his desk with his head in his hands.
"Now you have to tell me something."
"I'm not interested in you..." Jim mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
He sighed and sat up again. "I don't understand. Why can't you just go?"
"Now, now. You promised."
Jim stared at the ceiling, silently begging for the intervention of some higher power. No, it was unrealistic to hope for divine influences to help him. He'd have to help himself. With the power of his own will. Channeling his mental forces, he attempted to change the structure of the universe and generate a good reason to escape the conversation. Anything!
Suddenly, Chocobo's voice sounded throughout the building. "YUD! Could you come here?"
Damn! So near, and yet so far!
"YUD! YUUU-UUD!" A pause. "JIM!"
Jim grinned. "Gotta go. Let yourself out." He sprinted from the room, leaving a startled Tifa in his wake.
She sighed. Why did he always send out such mixed signals? Sitting carefully on the corner of the bed, she stared vacantly around the room. Her eyes came to a rest on the desk. Intrigued, she stood up again and surreptitiously glanced at the mysterious papers strewn across it. They seemed to be covered mostly with disturbing doodles. She picked one up to take a closer look, but was distracted by something underneath it.
"On a toe, o sever fife to sever sick too..." What a strange thing to write. What could it mean?
Not entirely sure why, she took the note from the desk and thrust it into a pocket. Hurrying back through the corridor she had second thoughts, but the paper was all crumpled now, so there would be no point returning it. Maybe she could at least analyse it to gain some insight into Jim's mind.
"Bye," she said, as she passed Jim on her way out, but he didn't respond. He was busy looking over the proofs with Chocobo. If they were very lucky, they might get the comic finished on time. But at what cost? Jim was debating internally over whether to draw Chokie's attention to the surreal errors that had crept into her lettering as a result of sleep deprivation and excessive caffiene intake...
Chapter 10
UNTITLED
Viper didn't look happy. This was because he wasn't happy. Losing two jobs in the same week played hell with his self-esteem. He was sitting on the sofa and pondering his next move. He had tentatively formed a plan, but realised it would prove unpopular with many of his compatriots were they to find out. On the other hand, he wanted his SNES back.
"Who's cooking tonight?" Eskimo enquired, with a quizzical look in his eye.
Nevermore looked up. "You are."
"I... knew that." He leaned over to where Squallid was sitting watching TV, and hissed into his ear: "I'll get the rope. You get the keys to Yud's new bike." With that, he headed for the door at a fast pace, with a cry of "I'll be right back!"
Squallid yawned and stretched extensively, surreptitiously removed Yud's keys from his pocket, got up and threw them out of the window. He then returned to the television. Rabid Chocobo had been working them all day, and this was probably the only moment of rest he'd get, as it seemed likely they'd be working into the night as well. The image of the comic seemed to be burned into his retinas.
Viper reached a decision. He took the phone into a corner and carefully dialled.
The voice on the other end of the phone was, if anything, irate. "For the last time, he's moved out! Please stop calling me, for the love of god!!"
Viper spoke in hushed tones. "Mechninja?"
"Uh... yes. How did you know?"
"I have my sources... word on the street is that you're short-staffed."
"Well, yes. So what?"
"So, I'm saying if you want a bona fide hardworking henchman... I'm the guy."
"Yeah? You got any references? I don't hold much stock with self-publicists."
"You were at Kunio's today. I was the security guard. Remember me?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Oh. Well, I was. You can ask him."
There was a pause at the other end of the line. Viper listened intently. He thought he could hear a hushed discussion. He glanced briefly at the other occupants of the room. Jim and Nevermore both stopped staring at him and returned to their newspapers. Yud and Squallid were utterly absorbed in their programme. Chokie was staring vacantly into space and breaking pieces off her desk.
The voice on the other end of the phone returned. "Okay, you're in. We need all the help we can get. Any questions?"
"Well," Viper whispered, "there was one... is this like a prohibition era thing? Are we like Thirties gangsters?"
"Uh... sort of... at the moment..."
Viper grinned. "Great! I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay? I know where your headquarters are."
He hung the phone up, and returned to his seat whistling nonchalantly. Realising that nonchalant whistling was the most conspicuous noise in the known universe, he stopped abruptly mid-whistle. He then realised that this was even more likely to arouse suspicion, but had the good sense to cut his losses.
Squallid looked at his watch and sighed. It was time. He tore himself away from the TV, retrieved a vast length of rope from the cupboard and dragged it into the dining room. He closed the door behind him.
For the next few minutes there were a series of bizarre noises. First there was the muffled sound of rope against wood for several minutes. Then a loud squawking noise began, intermittently interrupted by shouts and bangs. After a few minutes more, voices became audible. The squawking became more frantic, and the voices more angry. After a few moments of this, the door opened and Eskimo walked out. "Don't mind us," he said as he walked around into the kitchen.
Nobody could remember Eskimo getting back home.
The noises continued, with the voices even more audible now. "I'll pull; you push!" Frantic scuffling. A loud crash, accompanied by violent expletives. Repeated metallic thumping noises. A hurried shuffling, and tapping noises as the kitchen door began to creak open. "You just waddle back over here, tuxedoed fool, or everyone goes hungry!" A hand hurriedly pulled the door shut again. More sounds of violence. "GET IN THE OVEN, YOU FEATHERY BASTARD!" That sounded like Squallid. Then several slow, rhythmic clangs. Finally, silence. Then a few seconds of unidentifiable screaming. Then silence again.
"Do you know something?" said Nevermore, his expression blank. "I'm not hungry."
Eskimo emerged from the kitchen and quickly shut the door behind him. "Dinner is served!" he announced. "If you would all just follow mw calmly into the dining room."
Reluctantly, they did so, and took their usual places. Eskimo stepped over to the hatch which lead to the kitchen, leaned in, and retrieved several plates of food. Aided by Squallid, he served them out.
"Tuna salad?" Jim looked relieved, but surprised. "I must say I expected worse."
Eskimo laughed. "Ha ha, as if. What can you think of me?"
"Quite..."
Eskimo's face turned stony. "By the way, don't go into the kitchen. Ever."
Chapter 11
THE MOB
Viper strolled into the lobby of the office building. Nobody took any notice of him. What was one more suit in a place like this? He sauntered casually to the lifts, occasionally glancing from side to side, as if expecting armed guards to swoop in at any moment and remove him. They didn't. Security in the building was not particularly tight. People are forgetful; that's how history is able to repeat itself.
He entered the lift. It was empty apart from him. Once the doors had closed, he pushed the intercom button. "Mech?"
A crackle of static. "You alone?"
"Yeah. Listen." Viper allowed Mechninja a moment to listen to the absence of people. "See?"
"Okay. I'm calling the elevator."
Viper became momentarily heavier, and watched as the digital display counted the floors up to 45, then went haywire. After a moment of relative lightness, the doors opened. He walked out into the office. It looked like it had been refurbished somewhat since he had last seen it. It was more brightly lit, highlighting the cheerful décor. He recognised the stairs to the windows at the back of the room. They had been restored, and the windows were well lit. It looked like new glass, too. In addition to all this, there was a filing cabinet he was sure he couldn't remember. In front of the railing that separated the two levels of the room, Mech sat at his desk in a tall chair.
"I like what you've done with this place."
"Thanks," said Mech, "so do I. I believe this is a little closer to the architect's original intentions. I hired a professional. In this business, you always do. You may have noticed the new windows. They're one way glass, and reinforced. Heavily. I did a little research, and decided it was the best idea. Bad things happen in this room."
Viper stood inert, unsure whether it was his turn to speak.
"Now, I'd better brief you a little." Aha. "We are at current engaged in a bitter turf war with our rival Plasma Snake. This furious battle is destined to claim lives and egos all over the disputed area, just near O'Donnell's, Black's Coffee and that little stretch of wasteland. Your job will be to show retailers in the area that we mean business. None of them are to have any dealings with Plasma. We're going to give them a little insurance arrangement."
"That's nice."
"Isn't it, though? Your first task will be to get over there and get intimidating. Start with O'Donnell's. I know Plasma's got his eye on that place. But he's not having it! I know they may be cheap, but they serve a fine burger! And those burgers are mine! Plasma's not getting a look in, and I want you to make sure of that. Consider this mission the proving ground. Screw up, and you'd better not bother coming back. Do well, and I might put you in charge of something bigger."
Viper smiled. "You can count on..."
"Oh, I forgot to mention, I'm also quite partial to the O'Crab Sandwich. It's much maligned, you know?"
"Right. ...You know there's no actual crab in that? O'Crab is their trademarked name for a synthetic seafood flavoured mulch."
"Really?" Mechninja mulled this over. "Oh, well. I like them, so what the hell? Anyway, there's no reason for you not to head out right away. Glad to see you dressed the part." Today, Viper had come out in the full mobster gear, wearing a shirt and tie with his best pinstripe suit, and a smart hat substituted for the bandana.
"Thanks. I won't let you down! What should I get out of the place? Make them promise not to deal with Plasma? Get some sort of extortion racket set up?"
Mechninja grinned. "You've got initiative. I like that. Why don't you use that initiative?" He considered for a moment. "In fact, while you're out, why don't you pick something up for me? I need a megawatt laser. You can get one from the electronics shop on Short Street. I know the guy there. The password is '2 aced egestive tents in a rift.' Can you remember that?"
"Two aced egestive tents... in a rift."
"Good. You give him this." Mech threw a brown envelope at Viper. He caught it. The envelope was heavy. It felt very expensive.
"You can count on me, Mech."
"Let's hope so. I like you, Viper. You'd better make sure I continue to like you. Don't mess this thing up. You only get paid commission on successful missions."
"You can count on me," Viper repeated, tucking the envelope into an inside pocket and stepping back into the lift. Out of deference to his new employer, he waited for the doors to close before retrieving it again and investigating its contents.
In the office, Mechninja called out: "You can come out now."
With difficulty, Sniper Wolf emerged from a cupboard. "I am never doing that again, okay!?"
"Oh, hush." Mechninja looked put-upon. "I told you, it was necessary."
"I still don't see why..."
"Because you always undermine me given the slightest opportunity!"
Sniper Wolf looked at him sadly, and shook the dust out of her hair. "Think we can trust him?"
Mech gazed evenly into the future. "I think so. The guy's totally absorbed in the whole organised crime thing. Plus, I made it clear what would happen if he didn't do as he was told."
"And what's that, exactly?"
"I left it to his imagination." He gave an evil smirk. "I'm keeping Masamune nice and sharp..."
"So? If he doesn't play ball, you think he'll ever show his face here again?"
Mechninja sighed, and slumped in his chair. "See? You always undermine me..."
Chapter 12
INTERLOCK
Tifa was not entirely certain how this had happened. She looked across the table at Yud, whose eyes were wandering around the room in a show of boredom.
It had begun just after she left the comic book headquarters. Just as she was pulling out of the driveway, Yud had turned up. "Race you," he'd said, and sped off in a cloud of dust before she could think. After a short chase through the back streets, they'd stopped on a small stretch of grass verge. When he asked her to lunch, she didn't really know what to think, and in the confusion she had agreed.
This wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, though.
"Hurry up with those burgers, will you!?" Yud yelled.
"Sir, you have to come to the counter and pick them up." Darren was not happy. Just because you're on minimum wage doesn't mean you want to be treated like dirt.
Yud sighed. "Service in this place is terrible." He stood up, marched to the counter and grabbed Darren by his collar, pulling him until their faces were uncomfortably close. "Bring... me... my... burgers. The customer is always right. Got that?"
Darren scowled. "Sir, I have a sawn-off shotgun in the kitchen. Your shins will be obliterated within ten seconds if I decide that's what's going to happen."
Yud released him. "You sicken me," he said, although too quietly to be heard distinctly. He grabbed the meals with bad grace and took them to the table.
Tifa felt obliged to clear the air. "It was nice of you to invite me here."
"Huh."
She pressed on. "To be honest, I never really thought of you in that way. But..." But what could she say? She was loath to admit that she was drawn to his callous, uncaring exterior.
"Yeah, well, whatever."
How had she not seen before? Maybe he had changed. A thought crossed her mind. Maybe he was the ideal person to solve the mystery. "Say, Yud," she said, reaching into a pocket, "have you any idea what this might mean?" She handed him a crumpled piece of paper.
"What's that?" He looked at the strange message. "Hm? Where did you find this, exactly?"
"Um, in..." She hesitated. "Well, it belonged to Jim."
Yud peered at the text. What vengeful scheme did these cryptic words mask..? His thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the opening door. Instinctively, he looked behind him. "Oh, hello, Viper."
Viper seemed startled. "Oh, hello, Yud..." He carefully put down the heavy looking bag he was carrying. "What are you up to?"
"On a toe, o sever fife to sever sick too. Does that mean anything to you?"
Viper thought a moment. "Hm? It sounds familiar. Is that... yeah, I think it is. That's the phone number to Plasma's office. I used that just yesterday. Uh, but it's a big secret."
Yud began to doubt Viper's sanity. "Number? What on earth are you talking about?"
"One eight oh oh, seven five two seven six two. Spells Plasma."
There was a moment of silence as the concepts fell into place in Yud's mind. "Just a mnemonic? Huh, that's nothing special." He raced forward again and held his hand to his mouth contemplatively, rocking slightly back and forth. "Really thought I might have something on him. Oh well. Anyway... you were saying, Tifa? Uh, not that I'm interested or anything."
Viper smiled pleasantly. "Don't mind me." He stepped over to the counter and addressed Darren. "Hi there. It's a nice restaurant you've got here. I'd hate for anything to happen to it."
"What..?"
"I'm saying," continued Viper, "that you might want to consider taking out a little insurance policy. Against fire, theft. Acts of god and so forth. Because these things happen, don't they? If you're not careful. Things burn."
Darren folded his arms defiantly. "Sir, are you threatening us?"
Yud piped up. "I'd watch out, Viper, he says he's got a gun. For god's sake don't make a scene; the lady here is trying to enjoy her nuggets."
Viper smiled. "Not a problem." He turned back to Darren. "No threat, of course not. I am just drawing your attention to the benefits of a business arrangement with my employer."
Darren was sceptical. "And who is your employer?" he asked sardonically.
"I believe I could answer that!"
Everyone turned to look at the new speaker. Standing in the doorway was a man in camouflage trousers and a drab T-shirt.
"Mechninja, am I correct?" Plasma smirked. "I'm afraid you're too late. Well, you will be in a moment. I'm insuring this place, and there's not a thing you can do about it."
"Keep it down, will you?" Yud was irate. "Have some consideration for the other customers." He turned to Tifa. "Carry on."
"Well, I was going to say, you seem a lot different in real life."
"Real life? As opposed to what?"
But Tifa was interrupted again. Plasma had walked over to Viper and was prodding the heavy bag with his feet.
"Looks like you've been playing fetch. Good boy. But I'm afraid this device is rightfully mine. Thank you very much."
"Hey!" exclaimed Viper, as Plasma picked up the bag and looked in.
"Yes, this seems to be in order. I'll be back to deal with you..." he glanced at Darren, "later. Cheerio."
Tifa continued. "Those emails you sent me."
"What? I didn't send any..." Realisation dawned. "Jim..? THAT BASTARD!"
Yud leapt to his feet, sending his chair flying into Plasma. Distracted, Plasma made the mistake of glancing away from Viper as he backed out of the room. Viper took the opportunity to fling himself at Plasma, knocking him to the ground. Sensing trouble, Darren vanished into the kitchens.
"Be careful, you idiot!" Plasma hissed at Viper, who was trying to suffocate him. "This thing is not a toy!" Viper tried to prise the not-a-toy in question from Plasma's hands, but succeeded only in proving Plasma's point by firing a thin beam of light into the fat fryers, which burst into flames.
"Oh, damn," Viper muttered. "Uh, truce?"
"Just get out of here!" Plasma yelled, scrambling to his feet. Yud and Tifa were already out of the door. Viper wisely chose to follow suit. There was a muffled explosion within the building, which was worrying. Then Darren appeared from around the back of the building and started firing in their general direction, which was more worrying. They continued to sprint across the vast tracts of car park, and eventually dived through a hedge at the perimeter.
"Should we," Viper gasped through laboured breathing, "should we alert, alert the fire people?"
"No need... I saw the other two... headed for a phone."
They sat where they were for a few minutes, in the shade of a skip. After a couple of minutes, a wailing made itself audible in the distance, and began to get louder.
"No-one dare disturb the sound of sirens," Viper quipped.
"Heh. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"
Plasma shrugged. "I've had worse. At least I got what I came for."
"Hmph, at least one of us did. Mech is going to be furious. I'd sure as hell better not go back there. Do you know this is the third job I've lost in as many days? At least I lasted until the afternoon yesterday."
Plasma gave a lopsided smile. "Jobhunting, eh? It doesn't get any more fun. Good luck to you, I say. I'd let you work for me, but there's not really anything for you to do. And I can't afford to pay wages."
"Thanks anyway. Well, I'd better be getting back home. Nice meeting you." Viper climbed to his feet.
"It's just a shame it was in these circumstances, eh?"
"Ha ha, yeah. Well, bye!"
Viper set out on his walk home. Plasma stayed where he was, and took a careful look at the laser for signs of damage. Overall it seemed fine. It could have been much worse, though. What Mechninja thought he was doing sending a rookie like that after such a rare piece of equipment he couldn't guess. "Maybe it's some elaborate triple-bluff..?" he mused...
Chapter 13
THE DARKEST HOUR
Chokie stared blankly into thin air. She sat rigid in her chair, her hands palm down on the desk, or so it seemed. On closer inspection, they were actually about an inch above it. "Is it done?" she asked.
"Uh..." Paddy wasn't entirely sure how she'd known he was approaching. "We're very nearly there. I was just going into the kitchen for a drink."
"No you weren't," Miss Choco explained, "you were finishing my comic."
"I..." Paddy's face fell. "You're right, of course. Stupid of me not to have realised." Defeated, he turned around and headed back to the studio, dragging his feet. He needed sleep. He needed sugar. He was living in fear. This deadline was bad for everyone.
The door opened with alarming rapidity and ricocheted off the adjacent wall, jeapordising the hinges. "Where is he!?" Yud yelled as he stormed in. "Where's Jim?"
"Lying low, I imagine," responded Nevermore, who was himself lying out of sight on the sofa. "What should I say if I see him?"
"His days are numbered. He just indirectly ruined my date with Tifa!"
Nevermore sat up enough to smirk at Yud over the back of the seat. "Oh, so it's Tifa, is it? I should have realised; you've become more like Cloud than Jim is. Very clever, but what's the point? You're not interested in her, are you?"
"No, no," Yud hastily replied, shaking his head vigorously. "I was doing it to get at Jim. Of course it's ruined now, but just think how jealous he would have been if I'd stolen her!"
Nevermore's brow furrowed. "I would have thought... But no, I don't suppose it really matters what I think," he mused aloud.
"So, I find out he preempted this particular move of mine, and he's been sending her nasty emails from my account!"
Nevermore remained silent. None of this made any real sense, but he didn't care. Observing the pointless power games that played out between Yud and Jim was often more entertaining than TV. This new development was an intriguing twist, and he looked forward to finding out what it meant.
Yud was pacing up and down with astonishing speed. He halted abruptly, turned around and strode towards the corridor. "I'm getting changed," he muttered.
Life was getting interesting, but Nevermore sincerely hoped things wouldn't get too interesting just yet. This hope seemed futile when Viper walked through the door, but fortunately he was distracted by a voice from the dining room before he could speak to Chokie.
"Viper!" Eskimo hissed, sotto voce.
Viper approached, slightly pensive. He raised his finger and was about to speak, when Eskimo quickly grabbed him and pulled him through the door.
"What's up?" Viper wasn't sure what to make of all this.
"Shh! Eskimo carefully closed the door. "That's better. Be careful what you say! I deduce from your early return that your employment of the day has been terminated. For everybody's sake, do not tell her. This deadline has her stressed out like we've never seen. She's all wound up like a clockwork bomb, and the next person to cross her might trigger armageddon!"
"Trust us, Viper, it's better this way." Squallid was sitting in one of the chairs, working on a crossword. "We've been holed up in here ever since we finished the inking, and you're welcome to join us."
Viper sat down. "Thanks, guys. But I need to find another job."
"Don't worry about it," Eskimo drawled, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "You can take over from Squallid as my assistant."
"What!?" Squallid was indignant.
"Just until the situation dies down."
Squallid relaxed. "Oh, okay then. Since it's you, Viper."
Viper was waiting for the catch. "I must say, this is very kind of you."
"Don't worry about it," Eskimo repeated. "After all, we did lose you your job at Kunio's, even if that was just business, so we sort of owe you. We can't actually pay you, but it will still count. The impetus to get a job will pass on to Squallid. Only Miss Choco doesn't have to know that."
The three of them settled in for a long wait. Until the comic was finished, it would not be safe to leave.
Squallid looked up. "'A town is a smaller one.' Four letters. Thoughts?"
Eskimo thought a moment. "Nowt. It's an anagram, isn't it?"
"Hmm, I suppose. Hey, it looks like I got some of these other answers wrong."
Chapter 14
COMIC RELIEF
Yud was not happy. First, his plans were ruined. Then he was in a fire. Now he had to cook for everyone. And to compound his bad mood...
"May I say how much I'm looking forward to working with you, Yud?" Squallid stood at attention, awaiting instructions.
Yud scowled at him. "Let me get this straight. I'm not overjoyed about you helping me. But as long as you are, we're going to do things my way, all right? You do exactly as I say, and you don't even think about questioning me."
"You got it!" Squallid wasn't about to rock the boat. Helping Yud in the kitchen was his best bet for staying out of trouble while Eskimo trained Viper.
"So, then. I'll be management, you can be labour. Fetch some mince and make it defrost."
Outside, people were still busy trying not to anger Rabid Chocobo. For some, it was easy. Nevermore still lay of the sofa, reading a book. He was barely inconvenienced by the removal of the cushions. For some, it was not so easy. Eskimo realised it was difficult to train a person in the ways of the Jedi without making a lot of noise, but they were just going to have to manage. For others, it was downright difficult. Jim was burning with silent rage, and resisting the temptation to put his fist through the computer screen in a two-way death pact. Again he read the note that was the source of his woes. "Yud told me how you wrote those messages for him. I had no idea you were capable of such nice words! Today I saw a new side of you - Tifa"
He crushed the note. "I don't know how he did this," he muttered, "but I'm going to kill Yud..."
Yud was, at that moment, preparing to apply the finishing touches to his meal. "It's nearly ready," he told Squallid. "Just add some chili powder to give it some zest..."
"Okay." Squallid took the poweder out of the cupboard and tipped in a liberal helping.
Yud exploded. "Not that much! You idiot!"
"I'm sorry!" Squallid put his hands up in defence. "I was just trying to tap a little bit in when it..."
"This is weapons-grade! We need to cool it down!"
"How?" Squallid looked around the kitchen for ideas.
"Milk should soak it up. Pour in milk. Lots of milk," Yud re-emphasised.
"Right." Squallid took the milk from the fridge, breathed on it a couple of times in an effort to warm it up, and started pouring.
"That's it," Yud coached. "More... keep pouring... that's right... NONONO!"
"What!?" Squallid stared at him, mortified.
"That's far too much! Look at it; it's a swamp! We have to dry it up! Get the salt."
Squallid dived into the cupboard again. "Got it. How much?" He decided to use some initiative. "I'll just pour in what we've got..."
Yud tred to stop him, but to no avail. "You moron! Look at it now! It'll turn people into empty husks! It's too salty!"
This was getting complicated. "What do you suggest?" asked Squallid.
Yud thought a moment. "I know what goes with salt... fries."
Squallid rooted through the freezer. "Will these do?"
"Yes. Pour them all in."
In went the chips. "How's that?"
Yud's hand went to his chin in a gesture of contemplation. "Not bad..." he smiled. Then the illusion shattered. "Oh, god! This is too obvious! The fries are affecting the texture of the meal; everyone will notice!"
Squallid looked at the chips floating on the surface of the mixture. "Hmm. You're right..."
Yud punched his hand. "Vinegar'll soften 'em up. Get cracking."
"Vinegar on fries?"
"It could work. Jim does it all the time."
"...Okay." Squallid emptied a bottle of vinegar into the vat, and attacked the food with a nondescript kitchen implement.
"Mush them down, that's right..." Yud watched the chips slowly dissolve. "Oh, no! It's far too acidic now!"
"Neutralise! Neutralise!"
"Get the baking powder; that should be alkaline enough for our purposes!"
Squallid made a third journey to the cupboard. "Done and done!" he announced, pouring it in. There was a violent fizzing as the ingredients neutralised one another.
"Oh, now look! We've used excess baking powder for the reaction." Yud was out of ideas. "What now?"
Squallid had an answer this time. "Use logic," he said. "We need to add proportional amounts of flour, eggs and sugar, don't we?"
Yud's face lit up. "Of course! Get moving! This should end our troubles. Except... oh no."
"What now?" Squallid asked, his hands drenched in albumen. The contents of the vat now resembled an end-of-term prank.
"The meal is now too much like a dessert!" Yud explained. "It countains too many of the ingredients of cake. The only antidote is to add all the savoury things we can find."
Squallid nodded. "I'll get Jim's marmite."
"Good work! I shall fetch the beef jerky and gravy granules."
They went throught the kitchen, fetching appropriate ingredients and throwing them in. "I'll get it all stirred in."
"Right! Perfect." Yud was, for a moment, happy with the results. "OH, MY GOD!!!"
"What!?"
Yud was in a panic. "Look at it! This meal is disgusting! We're doomed!"
"Ye gods, you're right!" The panic was contagious. "This is not a good predicament!"
"There's only one solution." Yud knew what had to be done.
"What's that?"
"Pour in sweetcorn."
"Sweetcorn?"
"Just do it! I told you not to question me! Do as I say, and I shall deliver us from the darkness and unto the light!"
Squallid emerged from the freezer with armsful of frozen vegetables. "Okay... how much?"
"All of it! All you can locate!"
"Okay, I'm doing it. It's a good job we're using such a large container..."
For a couple of minutes there was silence as they added the sweetcorn and stirred it into the mixture. "All mixed in? Right, now taste it." Yud pushed a spoon into Squallid's hand. "What does it taste like?"
Tentatively, he retrieved a spoonful of the conglomerate and put it in his mouth. He ruminated. Then he delivered the verdict. "...Tastes of sweetcorn."
"YES! Crisis averted! Nobody will ever know what happened here!" Yud performed a triumphant dance.
Chapter 15
RESOLUTION
Paddy stumbled into the room, delirious. "I've... I've finished," he gasped, thrusting a sheaf of papers into Chocobo's hands. With that, he trudged halfway to a chair and collapsed.
Chocobo sifted carefully through the finished comic. It wasn't a pretty sight. The inking was rushed, the colours increasingly frenzied and the lettering full of surreal errors. On the whole, this was definitely not one of their better efforts.
Oh well. She put it in the envelope and sealed it. Now it didn't matter.
There was a brash knock at the door. Eventually Yud answered it. "Hello?"
The smartly-dressed man responded in a loud voice. "Hello there. Can I talk to Mr O'Sullivan?"
Yud shrugged. "You mean Viper? Be my guest. He's in the fort."
Sure enough, Viper and Eskimo were hiding in a large construction of cushions and things in the corner. The training wasn't going too well. Viper was having difficulty getting to grips with the complexities of the Jedi mind trick.
"These are... these are... the droids... we are looking for..."
"NO!"
The executive rapped on the roof of the fort. "O'Sullivan?"
A pair of eyes appeared at the spyhole. "Uh... hello, sir?"
"O'Sullivan, on behalf of the company I'd like to extend my apologies and offer you your job back. Turns out you weren't breaking company policy at all... or at least, if you were, all the evidence was mysteriously shredded. It's a good thing this came to light now, as we need you back on the team. It's Emmerich... he's gone all moral again. Seems to think the A.I. project is a bad application of science. I need you there to take his mind off things and keep the ball rolling! So what do you say? Will you come back home to ArmsTech?"
The roof erupted and Viper emerged in a cascade of armrests and rubber chickens. "You bet I will, sir! I'll be in first thing tomorrow!"
"Good to hear it!" The supervisor retrieved a mysteriously uncrumpled piece of paper from his pocket, ticked it, and left with a spring in his step.
Viper stepped away from the ruins of the fort, leaving Eskimo struggling to escape. "Well, who'd have thought it? Maybe I am valued after all..."
"Good for you, Viper. Just think: the past three days have been a complete waste of time. You could have just stayed at home playing RPGs and you'd still be in the same position. And no worse off, either, since you didn't get paid at any of your jobs." To Jim, a bad mood was for spreading around.
Yud leaned through the kitchen door. "Dinner is served," he announced.
A stampede began, but was momentarily halted by the warning tones of Miss Choco. "Wait a minute! First, someone has to take this to the post. Who's doing it?" Silence. Somewhere, a fly sneezed. "Who's going to post the letter?" Chocobo repeated. Still there was no movement. The promise of food was more than enough to divide loyalties.
The annoyances and irritations bouncing around inside Rabid Chocobo's head had reached critical mass. She was quite surprised to observe a small creature materialising on her right shoulder. It looked rather like a miniature version of herself, but a lot more cheerful and forgiving. It spoke thusly: "Don't be too cross with them! After all, they've been working hard on the comic too! I'm sure everyone's feeling a little stressed out. Why not just let them have their food and send the comic off afterwards? I'm sure there's no need to turn nasty like all the other times."
Chocobo considered this for a moment, and then turned to the other being which had appeared on her left. It wore a lot of black and carried a rusty sickle. "You take care of her," Chokie told it, indicating the other apparition with a lopsided nod, "and I'll take care of the others. Okay?"
It didn't need telling twice.
FIN
I shall draw a veil over the subsequent scenes of violence, as I'm not certain that mere words could do them justice. Anyways, thanks for reading, and for putting up with my half-hearted sub-plots.
Thanks also to anyone who helped me out with storylines. You know who you are, but for pity's sake don't let on, or everyone'll know how low on ideas I was.
Tally-ho, etc.
Jim