Chapter 3, Across Town

As soon as the analog on my register hit 4:00 I immediately threw off my horrific vest, pulled my shades from my pocket to shove them on, jumped over my conveyor to make a break for it.

"Smooth," Aradia commented on my sweet hurdling skills as she threw me her keys. "The helmet's on the handles!" She called out as I sped towards Floor-Mart's automatic doors.

My red Converse hit the asphalt in a beat. Tick tock tick tock, almost.

No time to think of that though. I was, well, running out of time.

Slowing down was impossible, I was a speeding bullet of gung ho. I was a chiller version of The Flash.

I was going to be late if I couldn't get the moped started.

I sat on the vehicle, helmet secured, glasses in place, with the key refusing to start it up.

"C'mon, c'mon," I grumbled. "Shit, work."

After a few wasted seconds of monotonous key flicking, the scooter turned on. Quickly, I revved it, turned off the brakes, and began my radical time race across town.

I interlaced between cars like an expert weaver, making a hardcore basket composed of my righteous speeding patterns. A symphony of horns and curses spewed in my wake as I stayed afloat and rode the wave of speed.

My time was going down fast and I was only halfway there.

Skaia Comics was located on the side of the town where a shopping mall had once been, then was shut down. The ruins of the mall made for a teenage and hobo shenanigans and frolicsomeness hotspot. It also made for great business to the surrounding shops.

Who cares about comics more than hobos and teenagers? Probably lonely middle aged people with mid-life crises, but that's beside the point.

SC was one of the 20 highest grossing assorted stores and boutiques in our rinky-dink town. There were 25 in all, but that's also juxtapositional to the point.

I was getting closer. My illegal speeding and running of stop signs most likely added a few ladies to my fan club. Every girl loves a bad boy on his best girl friend's moped. My pink helmet was irresistible to the fine ladies of Skaia. I was tall, dark, and handsome.

Finally, after crafting luscious coatings of burned rubber on several roads, I saw the bright colors of the small shop approaching me.

I was right on time.

(Sorry for how short it is! I've been busy. Aughkfjg, but don't worry, this'll pick up. Soon.)

(Also: Dave actually means "Tall, dork, and handsome." Typos, y'know. Or denial. Probably denial.)