Thursday, May 23, 2013

trEND Act II Part I

Enough weeks had passed since the crew’s final score at The Derby. McRay had spent weeks reading countless books since he, and everyone else presumed their bloodlust wouldn’t creep back in. Since the events at The Derby, Sydell had become a part of the crew. The reason she relocated to them was rather fitting.
When Catya slain the other half, Sydell had resigned from her position. Although she was skillful, she felt her environment made every effort of hers for naught. That and she wasn’t allowed to renew her license because she didn’t log in “activity time” on FaceBook. The burning hatred in her eyes caught the attention of the crew. That very kanabo used for rendering the other half lifeless, became Sydell’s signature weapon. While some triumph had been achieved, the crew learned of the death of the coroner friend who had introduced Sydell to them. He had ingested two quarts of bleach when he learned legislation barring “non-networked” personnel from attaining coroner positions had been ratified.
The crew held a vigil in his memory. A white rose had its petals dipped in gold paint, before being laid on white squares of paper before being set ablaze.
Dolly and Catya had started a daily tradition. The two would venture to a wooden area and hone Dolly’s marksmanship.
In a seemingly uncharacteristic move, Catya had crafted a “Black Cat” ensemble for Dolly. It comprised of a custom of a custom motorcycle helmet with cat ears, fingerless gloves, a bomber jacket, boot cut jeans and four inch stilettos. Luke and Charlie sparred and practiced honing fluidity for hours on end. When they tired of training, they initiated many a go-about of coitus with McRay. The sex was still as raucous as it was when three was merely two. Sydell was almost concerned that the dynamic had become much too subdued.
“These are the same people I’ve come to know.” She began to think. “Yet, I can’t help but think there’s a bigger score than The Derby for them.” She tried harboring her inner thoughts, until being reminded that even thoughts could echo along the base. Catya simply asked, “Do you think we’ve become too...what’s the word...complacent?” Sydell answered, “Not complacent, but resistant against what you know drives your breathing.” Catya somewhat concurred with her, but expressed no desire to replenish her bloodlust. “I sense something to that effect as well.” She began. “Strange as it is, it has to be done at McRay’s whim.” “Why does this root to McRay?” Sydell asked.
Catya directed her to a section of the bookstore, where everyone would converse and incubate when not dealing with missions. “All of us...long before you, Dolly and Luke came along...had an undying love for Mama Joseph. None more than he.”
Catya said. “He must’ve been a reason the group came to what it is now.” Sydell chimed. Catya continued, “He met Mama when he hit rock bottom. The reason wasn’t orientation wise, but occupation based. He used to operate a ‘freestyle’ dojo.” Sydell wondered, “Learn at your own pace ‘freestyle’ or hope you get them in the gonads ‘freestyle’?” “The latter mixed in with some lucha libre.” Catya replied. “Things looked oh too perfect for him. Out of nowhere, a mandate came in for him to ‘wire’ the school. As if that wasn’t enough to emotionally neuter him, he found out that Skype had convinced a master of ‘cliché’ fu to teach the students from his stead in China.” Sydell responded with, “I don’t know how he became so riddled from his complex from that moment on.”
“Mama Joseph took care of that.” Catya replied. “She trained him physically and a little too well emotionally.” “Did she know he swings for the other team?” Sydell asked. “Oh by the time me, Charlie and Carlyle met him she introduced him as her gay son.” She said. “It’s sad Dolly and I never met her in person. Dolly must only have an idea of her when her visage appeared before your score at The Derby.” Sydell said.
“Hate to disrupt the talk, but there’s a teensy problem with teensy in air quotes.” Charlie said. They met up with him, Luke and Dolly to find that McRay had taken off for seemingly unknown reasons. “That unbelievable son of a bitch!” Catya said.
“If he couldn’t handle not having anything else trendy die off, he should’ve at least clued us in.” Sydell looked to see a blue screen light up from a bookshelf. “I’m reading whatever’s on there.” She said. Sure enough the LMFAO horde phone was lit; but this time with instructions. “Grab your weapons and meet me at the parking garage near Shooty Hoops Sports Bar.” Thirty minutes later, everyone in full on regalia met up with McRay who had been at ease despite his stunt. “Why the hell couldn’t you tell us you wanted back in?!” Catya shouted. “We are in this together! For God’s sake, we kill trends more grotesquely than parents!”
He began to explain himself as to why he set out for this. “Two things need to be established.” He started. “One, I never ceded from this. Two, every book I’ve been reading involved more ways to engage in battle.” “Fair enough, but why now? More importantly, why at Shooty Hoops?” Charlie asked. McRay directed everyone to the poster on the front of Shooty Hoops. The poster read, “Tebow Tuesdays @ Shooty Hoops! For every time Denver Broncos player Tim Tebow does his signature move, drinks are free of charge!” “That business is bleeding money like it has stigmata!” Dolly began. “Wait; whose fault is this? The cheap bastards who are exploiting this? Or is it some idiot marketing move on behalf of the business?” McRay answered, “Oh it’s both parties at fault here, Alley Cat!”
“So are we ending Shooty Hoops and cheap bastards?” Luke asked. McRay nodded up and down. “Sounds good to me. So when do we attack?” Catya asked. “Right when Tebow drops to his knee again.” He replied. “All right, move in!” Catya shouted.
The bedlam marked a return of their addiction to carnage. Forty minutes of turning the interior of a sports bar red, and they knew Mama Joseph would be pissed in some regards. Almost on cue, the visage of Mama Joseph appeared before them in the garage. “Mama...how pissed off at us are you?” McRay asked. She shockingly answered, “I can’t be pissed at any of you.” Dolly replied, “So you’re disappointed in us?” “No, no. That isn’t the case.” She began. “In a way I forgot how feverish you all were. That and with the double-edged luxuries embraced today, the incubi and succubae alike have less probability to let things die. Well, go on and be honest with yourselves.” She wished them peace and left again to be among her square footage in heaven. “Well, let’s get the fuck out of here!” Charlie said.
The crew hopped in the dune buggy under the assumption that enforcement was pursuing them. Usually, it was just an intrinsic tactic used to haul ass. This time, they were speeding away from a one man pursuer. From how the pursuer was dressed they knew he was too gung ho even for a vigilante let alone actual enforcement. “Oh goody. A potential piece of mammalian road kill.” Dolly sarcastically uttered.
“Try to swerve so that twatwaffle goes the way of decency.” McRay waited for ample timing to strike from afar. “Oh cute...he’s pulling out a gun the size of a dingleberry.” Luke said. McRay then spotted an opportunity to end the “vigilante”. He made a swerve to the right then drifted to the left. The target stood no presumable chance afterwards. A crash then loud thud on the concrete was heard. “Let’s find out who this fuck-face is.” Luke said. The crew went to the “accident” scene to unmask their assailant. Sydell measured just how much damage had been done. Shockingly, the body still had some level of activity. “He isn’t dead. Unmask him to pump information from him.” She said.
The helmet was removed to see a bloodied face with eyes out for the crew’s blood. “Don’t give us that look you son of a bitch.” Catya began. “Tell us everything! Why you chased us, what your beef is with us and your favorite position is!” He introduced himself and his identity shocked the crew. “I’m Levi...Roger’s lover!” Dolly replied, “Oh wow...you actually had sex with that thing?” “Shut your whore mouth!” he said before spitting blood at Dolly. Sydell took an offensive stance before saying, “I’d cease using that tactic if you don’t want to die horribly.” Levi wasn’t having any of it. “You killed my lover! You made him spit up blood; what’s a little taste of your own medicine against you? Answer me right now fuck-face!”
Catya grabbed him by his collar and shouted, “If you’re going to be stupid enough to spit your blood at anyone, how about aiming for the person who put your lover’s blood on the ground where it belongs?” His fury escalated to a place not many say out loud. “Fair enough. What say we tango one on one? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Bring it on you lurid cunt!” The crew was expecting rapid decapitation from her to end the conflict. Instead, she decided to take him up on his offer. “Careful what you ask for you atrocious catamite!”
The match between the two would prove to be an iteration of epic. She swung mercilessly; he would surprisingly increase the speed of his moves with every attack. One hour and fifty minutes elapsed before he landed a strike on Catya. She never went without macabre reciprocity. Her next move lacerated his thigh. Another hour had elapsed before a stalemate was had. The hatred in their eyes was said to possess more fire than every ring of hell.
“I will make this the longest bout of your fucked up existence.” He said. She retorted, “All this is for me is an extended sparring session.” The stalemate had ended fifty minutes later when after Levi went in for a strike for her skull. At the exact same time, Catya had backed up for a devastating strike with her ring blade. When the two collided, each was strangely distraught.
Her ring blade was diverted only lacerating his back. His kick was misjudged, but still hit her shoulder to where his death would be delayed. “One of us...has to die. So just lose for once in your life you goddamn harpy and die!” he said. “Oh dumb-fuck.” She began. “I’ve had mundane sex longer than this. Say hi to your asshole boyfriend in the afterlife for me.” He pulled the gun from the accident scene before saying, “That blade is shaped like a ring, but with you it’s a crutch. Let me help you out with that.” A bullet had gone through one of Catya’s wrists causing her weapon to be dropped.
“You goddamn coward!” Catya shouted. “Time to die bitch. I love you Roger!” Levi roared. He went to deliver the final blow, but Charlie decided to derail his plan. “Hey jerk-off! Guess what an ‘Assyrian Apex’ refers to.” He swirled his custom halberd enough to create a gust of wind to send Levi in the air. Charlie then waited for Levi to fall at the perfect angle. When he was prime for death, Charlie impaled him. Levi’s death cry was heard as one last shot for Catya. She approached him, gave him a dirty look and finally cracked his neck. “All that for some ‘occupy’ protester. You were sad in existence and will be more so in the afterlife. Two more words; you lose.” She said.
The crew had made it back to the base, but Catya was both furious and shocked that she had taken on injury. “How did this base, crass ‘ism’ manage to inflict this on me?!” she roared.
Sydell urged her to hold still before saying, “Levi was fighting based on the fact that his lover had died at your hands. It was based out of revenge, but it was enough to where he could fight.” “I can’t blame him on that behalf.” Catya began. “Out of all the nights however, why this night? Why not anytime before The Derby? There has to be an underlying intent for this. I can’t accept the idea that anyone, let alone that worthless cur would go on this long before trying to strike.”
Sydell had finished treating Catya’s injury before chiming in, “With the heightened intuition of the group, the answer should appear in no time.” That night as everyone was sleeping a thud was heard from their base. Dolly had sprung from her space the fastest to see what was going on. All there was to see was an intruder who had fallen to a trap set by her. “It’s some fuck-face knocked out. Take him to the alley for questioning.” She said. Catya and Luke dragged the body to the alley. Charlie stood him up, smacked him and said, “Wake up you facial waster!” The intruder found their inhospitableness insulting. “Whoa...what’s with the roughness?” he asked. McRay answered forcefully, “What’s with you barging in on people’s beauty sleep you goddamn jag off?!” Dolly put her gun to his head and said, “I may be a cat, but I ain’t got your tongue motherfucker! Start talking!”
He tried his hands at being cheeky with them.
“Why you foolish...scrumtrulescent punk-asses! I’m the sexiest man you ever met in your life!” Catya interjected, “I don’t know what makes my blood boil more. The poor content, the poor vernacular, the poor timing, the poor execution or the fact that you of all people tried to make others happy knowing your death is much overdue.” Emasculated, he started talking; he said, “My name is literally...Joe Schmoe.” Charlie snided, “...and you pop out of nowhere just for a 50/50 chance of making a name for yourself. Take a number, dipshit.” Luke added, “Usually when people say you’re special, trade in the sentiment for a hockey helmet.” McRay added to that saying, “You’re so boring, useless and dense I couldn’t pick you from a lineup surrounded by empty bottles of Pennzoil.” Sydell had the capper saying, “You’re so insignificant you couldn’t pay a hooker to scream your name out.”
Dolly said to him, “Unless you want to tangle with us, just do unlike your virginity and get lost.” Joe replied, “Eat Uzi lead you sons of bitches!”, but right as he pulled out his Uzi, Sydell smacked him on the brick wall with her kanabo. His body hit the ground, with his gun now property of the crew. “How sad.” She began. “His trip to the afterlife was the only time he went anywhere.”
After regaining time for their beauty sleep, the crew awoke to find the LMFAO horde phone was a messenger they wanted shot.
“After the last legal hurdle was cleared, the first public memorial concert for the victims of The Derby massacre has been given the go-ahead. The concert will be held at the Friedan Institute for the Arts.” For once, the feeling of confliction had consumed them. “I don’t know about this one.” McRay said. “It might be ground for a ‘Gleek’ resurgence, but this is the Friedan we’d end up dilapidating.” Charlie remarked, “Good things sometimes go out with the bad. You know the saying, ‘Cream rises to the top; so does the scum’? Well when the scum goes down, the cream does just as unfortunate association.” Catya looked him in the eyes and said, “Wow. I had no idea you could be deep. Now if you’re done playing philosopher, we need to vanquish mutated ‘Gleek’ people.”
The crew headed to the Friedan, but before they proceeded, they all paid respects for the institute in silence. McRay then gave the crew the go-ahead. “You may have been named after one of the reasons feminism exists today. However, I apologize for destroying you today.” He thought. The sextet waited until the two cast members of the show not involved in the massacre whatsoever took the stage. “I see the closeted bully and the one who plays handicapped approaching the stage now.” Luke said. Suddenly, Dolly noticed a coalition of sorts had been following them the whole time. “Who would track us down like this?” she thought.
She locked eyes with the leader of the group. It was the frail looking teenager from The Derby coalition. “Hey kitty kitty!” he shouted. “I forgot to say my name. It’s Liam.” “Dolly? What’s going on?” Charlie asked. “The coalition from The Derby mission is here to help us out.” He replied, “Oh cool. Go ahead and...give them the go-ahead.” “Ok guys! Do what you did to The Derby to this place!” she yelled. The mob broke through the Friedan’s doors and proved that history can repeat itself in ugly, brutal ways.
Unfortunate patrons in the lobby tried to flee, but to no avail as their blood hit the ground. One was even clueless enough to try to warn the crowd. A bullet from Dolly’s “Black Cat” had silenced the warning. The area housing the actual concert would soon turn to another mass grave. “Gleeks” and other patrons were slaughtered almost with too familiar and sickening ease. A rabid “Klaine” devotee had attempted to blindside Luke, but Charlie and McRay finished the devotee off with the “Tijuana Wishbone”. With Charlie on the left and McRay on the right, the two pulled the devotee’s legs apart, and went upwards. The final snap indicated the nuisance was no longer. The mob cornered the closeted bully and the one who played handicapped. Liam asked, “Who do we convince not to testify?” “The one who plays handicapped. The bully can die.” Catya said. Liam directed certain mob members to a separate room to “negotiate” with the one they spared.
“What are you going to do to me?” The bully asked. “If you have to ask, your death will only end up more gruesome than you wish.” Dolly said. “Come on!” he began. “I’m barely associated with the show!” Luke said, “We know that. That’s why we’re only going to do the ‘25 Cent’ with you.” “What in God’s name is the ‘25 Cent’?” The bully asked. “Think to the Spanish Inquisition. Imagine the inspiration for the move, quartering. Instead of some schmuck, imagine you.” Luke replied. Before the bully could respond, he was already subdued in the makeshift station for the “25 Cent”. “Now don’t think we’re going to stop at quartering you.” Dolly began. “There is a bit of a surprise at the end.” McRay, Charlie, Catya and Luke took to the ends of the machine they felt like. Dolly and Sydell watched the bully squirm “long enough” (roughly five seconds) before saying, “Go right ahead and finish him.”
The four then began to rotate the gears to quarter the bully. His scream crescendoed from light agony to feeling as if his limbs were melting like butter on lobster. Catya was the first to fully detach a limb from him. “Oh goody! I can make a wish for...well it would behoove me not to say it out loud.” She said. McRay was the next to have removed a limb from the bully.

“I won a prize!” he said. Charlie and Luke then simultaneously ended their parts of the “25 Cent”. Dolly went up to the now limbless bully to toy with him one last time. “Here’s the surprise I mentioned before. It’ll be...a mix of agony and expedient death.” She pulled out a chisel and a Ziploc bag containing five dollars in quarters. The bully looked on in horror and bewilderment. Dolly then studied the bully’s throat and upon further inspection deemed it unworthy. “It simply will not do. From the looks of it, your sternum is no good either. Luckily for you, I’m not inhumane enough to jam the five dollars through your urethra.”
She grabbed the chisel and aimed for his temple. “If you shut up, it’ll be over a lot faster.” She said. The impact of the chisel was enough to finish the bully in one fell swoop. Ten more strikes were made before Dolly bore a hole in the skull “worthy” enough to host the five dollars in quarters. “I’d open the bag but screw that! I’m just placing the bag inside.” She added.
Before parting ways again, Catya queried Liam as to why he assisted the crew. “What gives? We know what we’re capable of. Why did you come here?” Liam replied, “You helped us at The Derby. We felt the need to pay back your favor. That and uh...Kitty Kitty over there.” Sydell chimed in, “You do realize that she’s a fifteen year old runaway with a gun and pseudo mercenaries acting as a surrogate family to her, right?” He replied, “Minus the whole age thing, she’s still worth keeping guard over. She’s a decent person with issues like a magazine subscription. Ok, it’s more like the anthology of National Geographic, but that’s beside the point.” Dolly was flattered, but ended up saying, “We’re just friends. At least until I turn 18 and you somehow still exist.” “Fair enough Kitty Kitty.” Liam replied. Then the question of what happened to the one who played handicapped was raised by Catya. “What happened to high roller with the negotiation process?” Liam had checked with the mob to see how it turned out. The severed head indicated that the one who played handicapped was not willing to negotiate. “Hush money can’t shut everyone up...sorry boss.” A member said. “Well let’s get out of Dodge fast.” Luke said.
The crew and the coalition made peace with one another before going their separate ways. As they hopped in the dune buggy, Dolly wondered if sticking to her principles would have personal repercussions. “Did I do the right thing? I only expressed no interest to avoid ending up a whore for getting with a much older guy while I’m illegal.” From afar Liam said, “Chill out Kitty Kitty. I understand perfectly.” “Well that settles that matter.” Dolly said. Cruising along she noticed potential roadblocks as the crew were leaving the Friedan. “It’s finally come to this hasn’t it?” she said.
Catya looked at her and asked, “What the hell is going on?” She replied, “That legion of douchebags we’re dealing with aren’t just base douches. One, among them is my brother. He’s a real blockhead and Jersey Shore loving jackass. Two, these as a collective are worse than douchebags. Take a whiff of the pungent cologne they have on to see what we’re dealing with.” Catya sniffed the cologne and easily detected the species the roadblocks were. “Oh God no! We’re dealing with...‘broheims’.” One of the broheims had come forward and had attempted to speak. The emitted noises from him however, caused immediate discomfort for the crew.
“Goddamn!” McRay said. “He sounds like the teacher from any Charlie Brown cartoon with the spooge of Sylvester Stallone stuck in his throat!” “I’m not sure how that qualified as English. Maybe Dolly’s brother can try to explain their M.O.” Sydell said. “Goddamnit!” Dolly shouted. “I’m only doing this so we can get this shit over with. Mikey! What the fuck do you want?!” He came forward and said, “Everybody back home misses you. Didn’t you get the messages we sent you?” “I don’t have a FaceBook you fucking dingus!” she said. “Come on Dolly. Every person we know from home wants you back. Besides, you haven’t even finished your early leave semester at school.” He replied. “Nice try, jackass.” Catya said. “Dolly already took care of that online.”
Mikey responded with a bombshell. “There’s a reason we sent Joe Schmoe out to your base.” “How the hell did you know of the base?!” McRay queried. “There was never any paper trail left by her.” Mikey began. “She’s always frighteningly excelsior in leaving no trace of her. It was only through Joe that I knew she was alive. He thought you all were a bunch of ruthless thugs holding her hostage for some ransom.” “If you know this much already, why are you here?” Luke asked. Mikey replied, “I might be ‘some blockhead’ to my little sister for liking trendy stuff, but I’m not a deplorable being. If it serves as any consolation, I refuse to watch any reality show on TLC.”
Dolly wasn’t having any of this. She pulled out Joe Schmoe’s Uzi and said, “You have two choices. Go back alone in peace or go back in a motherfucking body bag. Either way, I’m not leaving.”


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