Chapter XCVIII: Scorpious vs Serge

Chapter XCVIII: Scorpious vs Serge 

“Well, pardner, looks like this town ain’t big enough for the two of us.” Dusty Eye Jones says. 

“What the- What the fuuuu- the fuuu- what in tarnation?” Serge says. 

“Ah said, this town ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 

“The hell am I?” 

“Pardner, you better cut the amnesia schtick right now, boy.” 

“What are you talking about? Where am I?” 

“Good one, One Eyed Gary.” 

“My name isn’t Gary, it’s Serge.” 

“You got till the count of three, before I start shootin’. This here is supposed to be a duel, and we ain’t even counted our steps yet, now git movin’.” 

“Wait-” 

“Three-” 

“I just-” 

“Two-” 

“S**t!” Serge turns around, and both men move twenty paces before they shoot. Serge, not being trained in armed combat, misses and gets shot in the shoulder. “Ah!” He holds on to his shoulder. 

“Looks like ah win.” He spits on the ground, and takes aim at Serge’s head. 

“Dusty!” A deep, authoritative, voice booms. A sheriff leaves the saloon and points his gun at Dusty. “Nah ah already told yew, once the duel is ovah, yew can’t just kill folks dead, it’s yer fault yeh missed.” 

“Damn, sheriff, it’s One Eyed Gary!” 

“Lessin’ he’s got a bounty on his head, yew can’t kill ‘im.” He also spits on the ground. 

“Sheeoot, and here ah thought yew were more accommodatin’ sheriff.” 

“Don’t make me tell you again, Dusty, put the ol’ iron away, and yew two settle this over a couple o’ drinks, hmm?” 

“Sure, I could go for a drink.” Serge says. 

“Good, now how bout we all git drunk?” The three of them head into the saloon and have a seat at a table. “Ah’m-a sick of yew two always duelin’ in mah town. Once more, and ah’m gonna have to kick one of yew two out. Now, ah don’t wanna do that, yew both are good ranchers, and ah’m-a sick of this here fued between yas.” The waitress stops by their table. 

“Hai, ah’m Bessie, what can ah get y’all?” 

“Gin, neat.” 

“Scotch, please.” Dusty says. 

“Long Island Iced Tea.” Serge says. 

“A Long Island what?” Bessie asks. 

“Um, never mind, just give me whiskey, no ice.” 

“Y’all want somethin’ for that bullet wound while yer at it?” 

“Moonshine for the wound, and a pair of whatever you got to pull this thing here out.”  

“Ya got it.” 

“So, are yew two gonna get along, or am ah gonna have to evict one of ya?” Sheriff asks. 

“I- I didn’t even do nothin’!” Serge says. 

“Yer a half blood injin, and that’s bad enough.” Dusty says. 

“How is that my fault?” 

“Because yer paw killed mah paw. All Injins are bad, far as ah’m concerned.” 

“I’m sorry my dad killed your dad, but it’s no reason to take it out on me.” 

“Ah need mah revenge, goddammit!” He slams his fists on the table. 

“Calm down now, Dusty.” Sheriff says. 

“NO!” Revenge is mine!” He takes out his gun to shoot Serge, Serge quickly reacts, and shoots Dusty in the head. 

“Oh, s**t.” Serge says. 

“Now, what in the hell did yew do that fer?” Sheriff asks Serge. 

“I- I- just reacted, he was going to shoot me!” 

“Mr. Barnes, the victim was unarmed, wanna try again?” The detective asks Serge. 

“What? Who’s Mr. Barnes?” Serge asks. 

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. We have your fingerprints at the scene. Now, tell us again, why you did it?” 

“He was- he was gonna shoot me.” 

“I already told you, the victim was unarmed. You’re a serial killer, Mr. Barnes, we can tie you to fifteen other bodies. What is your connection with these people?” 

“I’m- I’m so confused.” 

“I think he’s trying to go for insanity. It’s not gonna work, Mr. Barnes.” 

“Who’s Mr. Barnes? I’m Gar- er, Serge.” 

“Nice try, you have no history of multipersonality disorder. You’re Tom Barnes, notorious serial killer. Fifteen bodies across ten states, and you screw up in ours. Now tell us, what’s the motive??”  

“Why does there have to be a motive?” Serge smiles wickedly. 

“So, you’re telling us that you just killed for fun?” 

“Bored is more like it.” 

“You were just...bored?” 

“Yeah, and it was fun, I’ll give you that.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really. Can I go now?” 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I need to go home.” 

“You’re looking at life in prison!” 

“What? For what?” 

“For wh- FOR THE MURDERS!” 

“What murders?” 

“The ones you just confessed to committing because you were bored!” 

“I never said that.” 

“Jacob, roll the tape.” The other detective presses a play on a tape recorder, and a different voice other than Serge’s comes from the speaker. 

“Hi, this is Janey, welcome to 1-999-SEXY. It’s $5.99/minute for the first five minutes, then it’s $9.99 a minute after that.” The woman says. Another voice, that of the first detective is heard. 

“Hi Janey, this is Mister- uh, Smith. Could you please tell me I’m the best detective on the force?” 

“Sure, sweetie, whatever you want.” 

“Mind if I call you mommy while you’re praising me?” 

“Um- that’s going to cost extra, dear.” 

“Motherf-” The detective hits the stop button. “I don’t know how that got on there, I thought you were recording?” 

“Hey man, I was, I don’t know how that got on there!” The other detective says. 

“Great, now we have no confession. Five hours FOR NOTHING!” He picks up a chair and chucks it across the room. He leaves the room, and lights up a cigarette, his partner following him. 

“What the f**k, Scorpious? Why are you doing this to me?” Serge yells. 

“Because it’s fun!” I tell him. They’re like little toys, I can make them do anything I want, and they can’t do anything! Watch me turn the room upside down! Now I’m filling it with water! No escape now! Hahahahaha! Ah, I can be such a dick sometimes, can’t I? “You done being a little b***h?” 

“LET ME THE F**K OUT OF HERE!!!” Fine, he wants to be stupid? I’ll make him stupid, and by proxy, I’ll make you stupid! 

“Have fun being dumb!” 

“What the-? Hi kids, and welcome to Serge’s Educational Hour! We’re gonna learn about lotsa stuff today! Like, uh, um, this rock! It’s not shiny, it’s kind of dirty, but it’s a rock!” The camera zooms in on the rock and zooms back out. “A fun game to play with rocks, is you smash it against your head as many times as you can until it breaks!” The rock splits and Serge’s head is bleeding. “Once you break it, then you use your head to smash those pieces into smaller pieces!” He smashes the shards against his head until they break. “Then you take THOSE smaller pieces, and you, and you-” he falls over. A green alien hand puppet shows up behind him. 

“Hi kids! Uh oh! Looks like Serge is out for the count! Speaking of counting, why don’t you count along with me, Gorgon the Galaxian! Ready? Count!” Children’s voices are heard alongside hers. “One, three, four, seven, eighteen, three, four, nineteen, twenty! Yaaaay! We did it!” The sock puppet looks left, then right. “Uh oh, looks like the mean, terrible Scott is here! I’d better hide!” And just like that, the puppet goes away. Scott runs into the shot, slips on Serge’s blood, and lands backwards, dying instantly. 

“Boy, do I have a mess to clean up!” Ballester the janitor says, as he rolls in his mop and bucket. He mops up the bodies and blood as if they were nothing and rolls along his way. As he does, a cartoon takes over the screen. It’s stick figure versions of Serge, Ballester and Gorgon. 

“What the f**k? I’m a stick figure now?” Serge asks. 

“Guess so.” Ballester says. 

“Ballester? Man, it’s good to see a friendlly face.” 

“No mercy!” 

“Yeah, so I could probably work with this, I just need to draw an island paradise for us.” 

“Buy corn.” Gorgon says. 

“No mercy!” Ballester says. 

“That’s nice, guys. Now help me, please.” Serge says. 

“No mercy!” 

“Buy corn!” Gorgax says, as he gets closer to the camera. 

“Fine, I’ll do it my own f*****g self.” 

“No mercy!” Ballester explodes randomly. 

“Buy corn.” Gorgon is closer to the screen, his eyes spinning hypnotically. 

“Now, where am I going to get the material to-” A giant pencil draws a pretty crappy looking island. “I-uh, ok.” 

“No mercy!” 

“Buy corn!” Gorgon’s face now completely fills the screen. “Corn... Corn... corn...” REMEMBER TO BUY CORN FROM CORN CO. TODAY!!! 

“I know what this is, Scorpious is f*****g with me again, aren’t you, dillhole?” 

“Finally, he gets it!” I say. 

“Why? Why would you do this to me?” 

“Because you deserve it.” 

“Why?” 

“Stop asking me that stupid question. When I know, you’ll know.” 

“What the f**k is that supposed to mean?” 

“No mercy!” Ballester says. 

“Buy corn!” Gorgon says. 

“Why are these two stuck on the same stupid words?” 

“That’s their catchphrases. You’re in draft mode.” 

“Draft mode?” 

“Yeah.” 

“The f**k does that mean?” 

“It means I’ve stripped you down to your bare bones.” 

“Bare bones?” 

“Yeah, at this point I can do anything I want with your story now that you’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Oh, and what are you gonna do about it, mister tough creator guy?” 

“This.” I crumple him up, and throw him in the trash, cause that’s where he belongs. I may or may not pick him out yet, let’s see where this whole thing goes first. Speaking of garbage...