Chapter 3: Message Received

Realm: Earth 6.2 (Neo-Tokyo 1988)

Present Day. (CH)

It was noon in Frank's apartment. Rays of sunshine slanted in through the window, illuminating the semen-stained room with brilliant streaks of golden light. Salamander Man sat on the floor playing with a pre-schoolers xylophone.

"Nyesss!" He bellowed, taking turns to slam the multi-coloured keys with his feet and elbows.

'Plink, plink, plink, plink. Plink, plink.'

The discordant jingling created an ambience typically associated with a special classroom, and it wasn't long before Salamander Man had roused his housemates with his borderline autistic cacophony.

"Salamander Man! Salamander Man! Shut the fuck up!"

Frank's ruddy red face appeared at the bedroom door, his hands pressed tightly over his ears.

"I was draining a keg last night, you asshole! I've got a hangover that could kill a whale!"

"Nyesss!"

Salamander Man detached a bright red key from the xylophone and rubbed it provocatively around his nipple. He flicked his tongue back and forth, and then went back to mashing the xylophone.

"Nyesss!"

'Plink, plink, plink, !'

Frank marched over to Salamander Man and yanked the toy out of his hands.

"NYESSS! NYESSS!" He cried desperately, trying to grab it back, but Frank walked over to the open window and chucked the instrument out. The xylophone spiralled through the air, turning end over end majestically, before it landed on a dog that was passing underneath, killing it instantly. Frank dusted off his hands.

"There! When I tell you to shut up. You shut up. We're already getting noise complaints you stupid lizard! Have some fucking consideration!"

"NYESSS! Nyesss!" Salamander Man screwed up his face and slammed his head against the floor. He screamed and cried but, in truth, Salamander Man was too dense to stay sad for long. Soon enough he was crawling into the closet, intent on eating the pile of dead flies that had amassed there.

Now that he was awake, Frank walked over to the kitchenette, ready for some breakfast, but he stepped on something wet and squishy before he could reach the fridge.

"Oh for God's sake!" He grated, reaching down and picking up a dripping wet sock between his forefinger and thumb.

"Pink Guy! Pink Guy! Where are you, ya dirty bastard!?"

The fridge door opened, revealing Pink Guy's hunched lycra body sucking down on a bottle of soy sauce."

"Hey B0ss!"

"Pink Guy, you have to keep your cum sock out of sight. Nobody want's to see that shit. It's fucking disgusting!" Pink Guy shook his head.

"Please, gibe de Pusi b0ss! (Nah, Frank. That's your jizz, man.)

"Don't even start! I know it's yours cos the semen is fucking pink! It's like someone filled this thing with Nickelodeon Gak! You can't pin this on me!"

"Hey b0ss, can I habe pusi? (Nah man, you racist.)"

Frank laughed and took a half empty carton of orange juice out of the fridge door.

"I'm a minority you stupid faggot, I can't be racist. Whatever, just don't leave your shit on the floor."

He chucked the sock into the vegetable rack and shut the door, licking the sticky pink residue off his fingers as he did so. Protein was protein, after all. He didn't care where his sustenance came from. Frank chugged the orange juice and discarded the carton.

"Christ! Just another day at retard HQ, isn't it. I expected nothing and I'm still disappointed. All right! Everyone up! Get up! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!"

At first, nothing happened. Then the apartment came alive with retarded, shambling movement. Lemon rolled out of the cupboard under the sink, still chewing on a dishcloth, and let out a shriek.

Salamander Man jumped into the centre of the room and rolled into a sitting position.

Pink Guy stepped out of the fridge, sniffed the air, and crawled over to where Frank was now standing.

"Okay! Listen up! We're going to have breakfast together like a goddamn household for once. I'm tired of you crawling off to your own little nooks and doing God-knows-what to yourselves."

The three Lycra men moaned and shook their heads. Frank stood resolute.

"I mean it! It's fucking embarrassing that you can't act halfway normal. We're going to sit down at the table, and have some chromosomes, come on. If you're good, I'll play some Seinfeld on the laptop."

Frank's entourage reluctantly shambled over to the table and clambered onto the chairs like handicapped children. Frank turned his attention to the stove, and was wondering how much blood-vomit he'd have to use to give his friends the daily-recommended amount of chromosomes, when his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a psychic signal. Francis of the filth froze. His mind echoed with the panicked wailings of Safari Man, and he had to grab hold of the wall to stop him falling over.

"HALP! FRANKU! CUM-MU FAST! SLAV-OO MEN TAKE US! HALP!"

"Safari Man? What is this, what's wrong?"

"SLAV-OO MEN TAKE US! HALP, FRANK…. … WOW!"

Finally the message dissipated, and Frank turned around to his lycra friends.

"Holy shit on a cracker! Safari Mans been kidnapped! And Ian too… I guess. Fuck."

Lemon, Salamander Man and Pink Guy all looked at one another with pained, worried expressions.

"Uwaa!"

"Nyesss!"

"B0ss?!"

Then they all turned to the ceiling and let out a collective, screeching howl. One of their kin had been taken away, and the anguish that came forth was a palpable, living thing. Frank anxiously paced to and fro, trying to get his head together.

"Jesus, I suppose Chernobyl wasn't the fun radiation playground we all thought it was. Look, there's no time! We've got to go rescue them!"

There was a murmuring from around the table, and the lycra men started to slouch low in their chairs. Frank scoffed at them.

"What you're afraid? I knew it! You're all just pussies! What, you're afraid of a few Russian mutants? You're part of my clan, you're blessed by Chin Chin. You've got no fucking excuse."

Francis of the Filth rushed over to his bed and began pulling a large metal case out from underneath it.

"But we can't go alone…" Said Frank, cheesily looking into the camera lens for dramatic effect.

"We're going to need some help."