Chapter 1: Oil for days
The smell of oil was in the air. What stood in front of Hank hill's eyes was a large, deep trench, filled to the brim with oil. Hank could not believe his eyes. The year was 2008, and summer had just started.
"This is unbelievable, look at all this oil," Said Hank. Joe Jack had been driving around on the outskirts of Arlen Texas when he heard a rumble. Feeling curious he went in the direction of which he heard it. There he found a hole, with more oil you could ever hope for, he called hank, along with Buck Strickland to the site. "What do you suppose we do with all this oil?" asked hank.
"Well, there is the SpeedWagon Foundation. I heard that they opened a branch down here Arlen. We could sell this oil there." Said Buck Strickland. "I'm going give them a call." Mr. Strickland proceeded to walk to his truck, pulling out an iPhone. "Whelp," started Hank, "I best be getting home, it's starting to get dark." "I'm gonna have to stop you right there, Hank." Said Joe Jack, "I can't let you know about this oil, I'm the one who found it, so it's only natural that I get a large sum of the money. With you around it will only make things complicated."
Hank looked at Joe Jack dumbfounded. "Joe Jack, that's got to one of the stupidest things I've ever heard you say. If you don't stop with this shit, I'm gonna kick your ass!" Without a second thought, Joe Jack pushed Hank into the black pool of oil. Hank started to struggle, sinking as did so. Oil started going up every single hole imaginable. He gasped for air, his heart was pounding, and he started to black. He then felt a sharp pain. An arrow had come out of the black abyss, stabbing him through the heart. Out of shock, Hank finally gave in and closed his eyes.
About ten minutes had passed since Hank had let out his last breath. The possibility of him being rescued had seemed to have long passed. That's when a hand grabbed him by the collar; Hank had been pulled out. The mysterious savior checked his pulse, but heard nothing. All of the sudden, Hank's heart started pumping again of nowhere. The stranger landed his hand on Hank's chest with enough force to clear the oil out of him. Life went back into Hank's eyes, and he leaned up, coughing up oil. There before him stood a tall, strongly build man, who seemed to be in his mid-thirties and of Japanese descent. He wore a black outfit with stars riddled throughout his body. His hat and hair seemed to merge into one. A cool, but serious attitude could be felt from Hank's position.
"Yare Yare Daze," spoke the stranger, "Just as my day couldn't get any weirder, I had to pull some guy out of a lake of oil." Hank stood up, "I don't know how to thank you mister, I thought my life was over. Could I ask you your name?"
"I'm Jotaro Kujo. I'm here because I've gotten reports of strange things happening. That's when I came across this oil pit. Did anything strange occur while you were drowning?" "Actually, something did happen, near my last breath, an arrow came and pierced right through my heart, but I could have just been seeing things with all of the adrenaline that had been running through me." Hank put his hand on heart, as if making a pledge, but only found a rip in his shirt. Jotaro gazed at Hank with enough pressure to turn carbon into diamond. "Did you say an arrow?" Jotaro stopped looking at Hank and instead changed his attention to a man on the other side of the lake. "Hey you, stop right there!" The man turned and looked at the two of them, an arrow visible in his silhouette. Then, with a panicked turn, he ran away. "God dammit! Look, if you find notice anything strange or peculiar, call the Arlen Hotel, room 132; I'm making an extended visit here. Also, it would be handy to know your name." My name? I'm Hank Hill."