Author's Note: What up, people? This is us, PenGator3 here with Chapter Seven ready to be read (aloud).
Dominique: Oh, and sorry for taking so long to get that done.
Sanzo: Well you should be; it was three months since our last chapter was upload. What the hell took you so long?
Dominique: Uh, school?
Sanzo: Keep up the freaking pace next time; our margin of error is slight so no screwups alright?
Dominique: Yes, master...
Sanzo: Okay, onto the reviews
Dominique (scrolls through the recent reviews): To Aquas DragoKnight, yes, Coop and Burton were playing Giggity Giggity; it was a throwback to the original series' second season episode, "Stuck". Speaking of throwback to the original series' second season, it had a habit of breaking the fourth wall so we made Yang do that...
Sanzo (checks on the review above it): Theatis, we just want to say thank you for your opinion about how Yang had reacted...
Dominique That reminds me: aren't there supposed to be reruns of Season One?
Sanzo: Not anymore; after recording "Falling Yin Love" and "On Golden Pondscüm," Disney stopped doing that. I was even planning to record "Master Dave" along with "Destination Danger" as well.
Dominique (pissed): Oh how it burns me up. I oughta take Disney down myself if I weren't that small.
Sanzo (patting Dominique on the head): Patience, Domino, is a virtue; Onto the disclaimer: Yin Yang Yo doesn't belong to us at all and even if it did then it would be awesome enough for a Season Three; plus, some of the characters mentioned are based from other shows that have been anthropomorphised to fit the story for YYY readers but they don't belong to us either. On the lighter side, the current rating of the story (majority speaking) as of now will be now rated T for Teen ('til further notice); with regards: Dominique Amino and Shonen Sanzo.
Dominique: Okay then... ONWARD!
Jared der Schwarzschild: The Galleria of Revelry ~Day at the Museum: Battle of the Soldier~
Darkness, a simple word to describe the nothingness in the world; even so, what made such a strong word more hackneyed was the fact that it was a dark and stormy night, yet there was more to it than that of the so-called 'dark and stormy night' itself. The calm dark blue oceans of the celestial heavens circled the world's hemisphere as the astral crescent hovered over the luminous city skylines of Novi Finis City, clouds rolling along and about as they were pouring the whiteness of a tempest to join the earthbound aftermath from the early afternoon ago. The once green trees of life and beauty were now cold undead husks of their former selves shivering violently backwards and forwards against the breeze. Because the darkening roads and streets were blanketed in winter people were tending to be extremely careful at this time of night, especially if some are treading on thin (Italian) ice.
Everyone was anywhere they could be at, except that it was almost everyone for there were two missing people in a lavatory that resembled a lot like what customers would expect at a gas station. The once pure ceramic flooring on the ground was sullied with dryly darkened blood which was a brownish red just like Bakelite. The wallpaper that was draped with such décor was starting to fail due to its bleeding dilapidation and old age as it was made from the soles of slivering solid and shedding silver serpentines; speaking of the word 'fail,' one light bulb inside the electrical fixture above flickered on and off, the first sign of trouble that would've been pointed out earlier, especially if there was a telephone ringing to be picked up had the caller remained calm and/or a bus running late at night. If that weren't actually bad enough, there were no windows at all; but, for some strange reason, there was only but one door with an opening that allowed oxygen to simply diffuse throughout the unsanitary room to anybody inside that needed it. The once high and mighty porcelain throne of great relief had seen better days in its past for was now polluted with the nearly overflowing wastes along from its past users that forgot to simply flush, its offensive odor sluggishly overcome the air forces of pure oxygen as if they were anti-aircraft turrets that took after the greenhouse gases ensnaring bits of heat in the trap while ignoring Mother Nature's global anger. The silvery water nozzle on the limestone sink was rusting away like a venereal disease that has been around even before the advance of the technological understudies called progress, complete with soft sound of moving water. Worst of all, there was a ceramic bathtub that was old, cold, and so filled with mold, the only thing that made to remain 'til it had been sold; perhaps, it was the water inside the bath that once became the ice cubes of an organ smuggling that left their victim in a watery grave.
And what was becoming of the two missing people of society in question that the readers would probably ask as this point since it has been started? Well, for starters, the two of them were just a bunch of young bunnies: a pink one named Yin and a purple one named Suzie wrapped around in chains. About not long ago they were taken from their family whom went on an outing to celebrate only to have it cut short when it went up in [a smoke(screen)]. And it was in on those same Friday Night Lights no less, let alone that it wasn't even the thirteenth of February at all so it wasn't that too unlucky to be obvious. For some eerie reason, that bathroom the rabbits were in was part of an abandoned building and nothing else; whether it was a hospital or an apartment, this was not the case to be investigated. Judging how no one was even hurt or killed when Yin and Suzie were abducted, there was probably some reason why someone was after them.
Suddenly, the eyes of the pink one fly open and she comes to life, finding to see the metal links binding her abdomen. As Yin wakes up and struggles with the chains, the captive lifts herself up and falls onto the floor, coughing and gasping from the shock. The pink rabbit still manages to get to her feet, but as she moves forward franticly frightened and somewhat bit hysterical cries were heard across the very room, stopping to hear it clearly. "Hey, is that you there, Suzie?" Yin asks as she turns back to the corner to which he is chained, says in a slightly softer but still panicked voice as if the unexpected had happened. Suddenly, from out within the darkness comes another fellow occupant's tearful voice, startling the pink one for she soon learns that it belongs to her younger brethren. The older sister quickly turns in the direction of the voice, trying to look across the room to the purple bunny yet couldn't see a thing; anxiously, the former lightly screamed, "Where are you?" Yin thought about using Foo-lumination to see where she was and find Suzie but because of the binding chains even her hands are tied, forcing the pink one to be extremely careful.
Somehow, the pink hare found something that felt like a light switch and with a loud click and an even louder buzzing sound, the rest of the very bright fluorescent lights come to life, lighting up in rows, starting from the operator's end and moving towards another side. As they come on, Yin is nearly blinded by the sudden change from a pitch black to a bright white. In the light the pink one now sees her sister, Suzie sobbing before taking a moment for these eyes finally start to adjust and looks around the room. Wincing from the glare of the lights, Yin started to stand up by the light switch and the door on the opposite end of the room, but still in chains. Although they've retain clothes from the party earlier, both of the rabbit are now barefoot. The eyes of the purple one start to open, slowly adjusting to the bright light and sees Yin across the room. Then, the gaping starts towards the center of the room, the pink bunny steps forward as much as she can to Suzie, a look of grave concern written on the elder sister's face.
Then, Yin walks towards her younger sibling with the offering of consolation by nestling nearby her younger sibling as if it was compared to wrapping around with open arms to contemplate for constriction on them both; as a result, Suzie feels her elder sister hugging her, the purple hare stops crying a bit and looks towards the face of the pink one. "Big Sis, I'm scared…" the young one squeaked, "I want to go home!" "Calm down, just calm down; are you hurt?" said Yin consolingly, knowing well from her true father, Master Yo to remain calm no matter what the situation was; better yet, if that Woo Foo warrior had a lemon every time when she (and her colleagues) was in danger, people would be enjoying lemonade by now. Suzie looks down at herself and answers, "I don't know." "Well, at least I know that you're okay, Suzie" her elder rabbit sister responded as tears were being dried from that worrisome gaze, "We'll just have to wait and see; besides, you big brother will find us soon."
"Yin, can I ask you something?" Suzie asked again, this time more softly. Yin glanced and then answered warmly, "why, of course; you can ask me anything." "Okay," the purple one responded to the elder sister, "do you have any idea how you got here?" "Well, if memory serves, the last thing we remember was that we went to a party with our family and we got taken so we ended up here; other than that, I don't think I remember anything else," the pink bunny answered as the initial panic had worn off for now, replaced simply with apprehension and anticipation. As Suzie slightly wriggles near her older sister around but not that far, her voice grows a bit softer, "why are we wrapped around in these chains, sis?" "Well, from the looks of these, someone didn't want us to make any sudden movements at all," Yin answered again, now studying herself briefly then glances to her younger brethren, "are you hurt in any other way?
"What do you mean?" asked Suzie who was starting to become slightly confused about what the elder hare had inquired earlier. The pink one mentally smacked herself in the head for asking such a question that none of the two themselves, not even specifically Yin herself would know the answer to and then said, "I'm not sure but what we need to do is to start thinking about why we're here; whoever brought us there could've done something, but they didn't so they must want something. Question is what is it?" "Hey, Yin…" the younger rabbit peeped, gaining the attention of her older sister once more, "do you think this about what happened to you and Yang long ago?" "I don't think that would be a possible reason for why that would happen to us, Suzie; first they would have to get to know us a lot better and besides, most of my old friends have probably moved away," the pink one answered with forethought. Suzie then countered, "But most of the time it would be someone like a villain or two doing such a thing." "Better yet, who could be doing such a thing like that?" Yin then quietly though to her as it felt surely that something had happened so fast they had a bad feeling about this.
True to her thoughts, Horace was in his building steaming and fuming about when he got knowledge of the incident as he spat out some crumbs of foodstuff from his mouth, "You what; you kidnapped the officer's baby sister? Your job was to capture the pink one and no one else!" "But boss, you don't understand; with that rookie punk and his wanker father in our way anyhow we can't do any of our business," Ritter defended meekly as he was enduring his superior's wrath, "since that extra girl counts as an added bonus, we can do whatever we want with them as we please." "You big dummy, you think if that's very easy to do a simple shanghai with Yeager's daughter, then you're living in a mere daydreaming world if you ask me; just what do you and your men think you are doing, trying to ruin me, Ritter?" the large swine screamed as he saw that as a weak excuse. The rat defended himself once again, this time with little confidence, "you don't have to freak out about it; besides, there just a bunch of dumb bunnies anyway so–––" "You imbecile, you don't even know what you've just started!" Horace countered angrily, "Just one word about this to the entire public, then a whole truckload of policemen will be on us like ants on a log. Once Yeager gets wind about this, even his other army soldier children will scout about, skyrocket, set ablaze, blow up, wind up, build up, heal up, snipe through, and/or even spy their way to leave no stone unturned just to hunt us down. Geez, we are dead; we got to do something with these two so they won't know it's us behind the scene. Ritter, round up our men first thing tomorrow; there's no telling what will happen when they strike now get your high and mighty rear ends in gear if any of you underlings want to stay alive!"
The same could also be said now that Yin's twin brother, now lying stretched across the bed with his bare feet, lounging about in melancholy angst with his head lying on top of the pillows; as such, his anger was brewing like a ticking time bomb as the lamp next to him was lit up. However, what was different about it, was that the formalwear he'd wore to the party was now taken off but in place of these clothes he had worn hours ago was a soft baby blue flannel that covered Yang down from the waist and abdomen. It had a light golden set of three buttons made of plastic that had been shaped to be more circular like the round table where brave knights dine with the king and the cuffs were absent. Somehow, the blue bunny didn't have a pair of undergarments beneath the matching trousers worn on his waistline and legs; for that case, he learned that such pajamas weren't always associated with underwear and coupled with the growing distaste of the underclothing, the teenager was feeling somewhat justified and vindicated. The brown blazer rested on the doorknob, now rudely unbuttoned just like the fleece jacket from school that morning ago, hanging about a meter or two from the carpentry over the wooden floorboards. The matching khakis from the party were no also longer on Yang's legs, being that they were folded and presumably never to be seen again (or so he thought to himself).
Yang had started glaring up at the ceiling with brewing wrath and angst as his target was starting to visualize itself as a television that many homeowners had in their own homes. First, there was one of the kidnappers that stole away his sisters from them only instead of being alive the kidnapper found himself with his throat being slit open, blood pouring out the red mortal wound and splashing on the viewer in remembrance for his crimes, a vengeance that would ferry him to Hell. Then, there was the blue teenage hare's estranged father ––his true father–– Master Yo running around in a dark and reflective woodland hearing nothing but the cries of his own children being echoed yet no one was there but the panda himself dazed and confused. Next were the parents of his (former) friends dressed (to be killed) in the finest formalwear as they stood atop the balcony, facing only but a vengeful crowd that carried torches, pitchfork, guns, and the large pictures of their own loved ones as they brew with myriad irrationality at the gates, like a revolution was about to start. At last but not least, Eradicus hovered in the air motionlessly as his fur molted, armor melted off, beak cracked, talons chipped, eyes faded from a radioactive green into a pale white, wings torn off his back, and skewered into different parts of himself as the resulting wounds became gluey; yet, when the griffin was back together, he was torn apart once again, set ablaze 'til he turned to ashes, and erased off the face of the earth forevermore.
"Yang, have you brushed your teeth yet?" a question then popped up as Yang himself was awakened to purity, eyes widening to see that all the illusions from moments ago, were banished into the nothingness. The blue one responded with a disgruntled, "No Yeager, I have not!" "Well you should start doing so anyway," Yeager, the teenager's foster father, countered, "You don't want to end up with cavities and gum disease while living without something to eat with…!" "Of course not, sir!" the boy rabbit complied. Yeager then said, "Then go brush your teeth!" "Fine then," Yang said annoyingly as he jumped out of bed to take care of one last task before bedtime, "what's a boy to do other than this?"
Ironically, it was the most important thing that the blue one was required to do since those two years ago in the dreaded past when he and his true original family. As the boy was fighting one of the worst enemies in broad daylight, one of those teeth started to hurt; yet, it was also ignored 'til mealtime when his patriarchal master purchased takeout with a credit card, a menu, and a bucket load of indifference and whenever his sister tried to tell their real father about it the moment the bunny boy scooped up the first spoonful of mashed potatoes, he threatened to slit open one of her cherished stuffed animal dolls at the dinner table while delivering a weak sneeze. Because of Master Yo's indifference, the panda had returned to his meal while his children left with only their plates barely touched overall; afterwards, Yin was flossing her teeth happily whereas Yang had did little at all, evidenced by the possession of numerous cavities in his dental jaw being eaten away by a termite. Perhaps in the blue one's mind, dentistry was regarded as his true mortal enemy since it was tendency to chop and smash whatever he'd sit fit and he had begged her not to tell; however, it had fell on deaf ears within five seconds as he was dragged away across the sidewalk by his father. As the boy hare had assured to himself that he was ready for such diseases, the one thing that had contradicted his feelings was the Wild Hare Tooth; even worse, Master Yo's mentioning of dental techniques had scared the poor boy away. Sure enough, it had started to get worse: overwhelmed by agonized pain and the experience of a violent convulsion, Yang had shed his own training vest, grew big buckteeth and a fluffy cottontail, and gained a precipitous stereotypical taste for carrots.
As this was going on, the worst enemy in question, a cockroach was residing in his own home watching a television program; in this case, it was a cartoon that dated back when firearms were nonlethal and replaced with corks muzzled down the barrel that would had still became ruinous if the user had to apply some pressure (at a close range of course). While this was going on, his mother was ferociously hungering for all this and rabbit stew (but mostly rabbit stew) so badly, she had even allowed herself to char her own son to get the picture. Like always, whenever the cockroach was assigned some family errand, more trouble follows; better yet, its name was Yang whom he had caught up with in the forest. With a kick in the pants and a kiss on the cheek followed by an explosive round expelled from a hunting rifle, the chase was on as it had plowed through trees and a billboard 'til had stopped here at a freshly painted rock where his target was waiting; still, it had continued on at the side of the cliff where the hunter had fallen off. The blue one, however, had tumbled after the cockroach only to find himself in the cauldron of boiling water only to be accompanied by his sister and father on rocket boots; as such, the captive had to defeat his enemy with his wits and he did by using reverse psychology. Once it was over, the boy rabbit had to wear some dental headgear to keep his teeth in check.
Not wanting to have history repeat itself, Yang headed towards the bathroom nearby across the bedroom by over a yard; in next to no time at all, he had finally reached the lavatory, being as half as small as the bedroom. The flooring was different since it was merely a creamy set of ceramic tiles on the ground. The walls were painted in a light coat of a golden yellow, the same color that matched the ceiling above it; speaking of the word 'ceiling,' if it was derived from a heavenly martyr named Celia, then the sky is the limit, being first to the rooftops of home and (second to) the cosmic bodies of space. There was only but one window in the bathroom and one window only. The bathroom was accommodated with typical things including a toilet, a sink, a hamper, a closet where towels and washcloth had been stored, and best of all a bathtub with a shower head and a curtain rack to go with it.
The blue bunny then went towards the sink where it had a mirror above it and picked out a toothbrush; conjointly, he opened up cap from a tube of toothpaste, separated the crown by itself, picked up the tube, constricted out some on the bristles, sat the toothpaste back down whereas the toothbrush raised upward in its place, brought the bristles to his teeth, and started brushing them. Yang went to his back teeth and worked in a clockwise direction the moment his toothbrush pointed the bristles toward the gum line in an acute angle, circularly in motion; quickly, the bristles rolled away from the gum line as it swept the surface of the tooth, removing the food and plaque on them. The hare continued working in a clockwise direction as he ended with the lower molars on one side, repeating what had been done earlier as it was now for the inside surface of the upper and lower molars. Yang then started to brush the back surface of his upper-front teeth as the tip of the toothbrush head was the only section that was in the mouth, directing the bristles toward the gum line with a flicking motion down the surface of the tooth going on for at least three times. The tip of the toothbrush's bristles faced toward the gum line again as it flicked upwards away from the gum line in a sweeping motion twice as it was brushing the biting surface of the boy rabbit's upper and lower premolars and molars respectively and circularly. Yang brushed his tongue around spherically for thirty seconds with another following along as the toothbrush clean the insides of his cheeks, bringing a rough approximate time of one minute. Soon, the bunny boy finished brushing his teeth by rinsing them all out with mouthwash as he spat it out into the sink; a somewhat fake smile was flexed in the mirror as it assured that he got the job done well. Yang then turned on the sink, washed the toothbrush free of fluoride, and sat it down in a nearby cup; sequentially, he turned the water off, brought the cap and the tube of toothpaste together, closed them tightly together, sat the toothpaste back down on the edge of the sink, picked out some floss, and left the lavatory.
Flossing some teeth on the way there, the blue hare had returned to his bedroom in little time in all. As such, Yang pulled out the eiderdown and the sheets along underneath it athwart the other side of the paillasse so he can get inside; afterwards, he pulled them back to himself the moment he was inside. Before the boy could just simply rest his weary head on the pillow, he outstretched his hand towards the cord below the lampshade, tugged it tightly, and the uplighter became inactive; now, the room was darkened like the night itself as it camouflaged against the downtrodden snowfall. Despite the comfort, the mental abnegation was slowing starting to take control of rabbit even in his sleepy forlorn hope.
Speaking of the word 'forlorn,' as the city still lain in the path in the snowstorm, only a fiery light had shone the way throughout the outskirts; however, it was stationary for it was associated with kindling underneath being burned bright like the golden sun. In addition, it was surrounded by a Foo-field that protected the campfire from not just only the subzero wintriness but also doing more harm than good, centering around it as if it were the epicenter with a radius of ten meters equal to the circumference doubling the radius altogether. Judging from the amount of skill put into making it in such a pitch in this breadth, it could only mean that someone was also Woo Foo, albeit older and mature.
In that case however, it was none other than that elderly panda Master Yo who was watching the campfire very carefully with his slowly fading eyes like anyone should since it was only them who could prevent forest fires. He had still retained his own signature beard and whiskers altogether due to the fact that the old man had barely aged at all in this stage. The light blue sash around that swollen torso was no longer in sight and because of that, only a black cape served as the replacement. Yo was sitting down on the snow even though his legs were still intact after all these years of existent bipedal mobility. It seems quite that for someone gracefully aging (or lack thereof) the elder's mind was truly not at peace with himself like if he had some kind of a penitent sentiment brewing; although there was a chance that he would pass on someday soon, the panda wanted to die with no regrets whatsoever. However, this was not the case for Yo had been attempting to seek; better yet, the one thing he desired was more like an answer to a question that had been beleaguering him since the day Eradicus was destroyed along with the former's native hometown.
Ironically, the question stumped him since everything he had taught others made him feel like he gave too much; contrary to popular belief, there was an answer to it like all question have. Perchance, he'd probably shown a crack in his personality only once when the old man was just a cub; like all masters of certain arts, he too was a Woo Foo Knight in Training. It was faint memories of the young panda walking thirteen miles in a similar storm only to meet an abominable snowman at the end, milking the wolverines, and chopping the firewood like an axe instead of with one. Counting the time Yo was left home alone at a young age for the day by, he had always been alone throughout most of his entire life leaving him with no one at all. Like always, there was more to it than just that; as such, he found someone he had loved like most people do after a long annual period of friendship with identity being based on positive feeling. After some nuptials, Yin and Yang were born yet the story had no happily ever after to begin with; fearful of earthly attachments, the panda's mind was wiped and he had returned to becoming alone like always. Unfortunately, this also had another side effect, a side effect that would come back to haunt the old man in little over a decade.
True to it, they met up with him just like his coupons would with them. Back then, Woo Foo Warriors were hard to come by for such a fighting skill was wiped off the face of the Earth countless times, mostly because previous warriors had put the letter "I" in teamwork one too many times and died in many battles as an end result based on a common denominator mathematicians used after dividing the intercepts of the total X axis and Y axis by two to find a slope. Even so, the shared ages of the twins weren't ready for high-level moves no matter how popular they were, not to mention that Yo didn't care at all. As everyone else started to know them well, they didn't care if he was to raised them well either since there were all sorts of things that they were busy with. Then everything changed when Eradicus attacked the town directly twice, the second time being more fierce and deadlier; only the two bunnies were able to stop him but when their father was need, the situation got shot to hell. A few years had passed since they were found but also separated once more, this time by the survivors' hands of change; although that Yin and Yang were now capable, they still had a long way to go. Now, there was nothing: no food, no recliner, no television, no home, no kids, or anything.
But, Yo still believes that they'll someday be reunited again and that he swore to himself and to the heavens that he will become the best around so that nothing is ever going to get him down (again). However, all that the panda could do now was to wait patiently and do nothing, a hobby that turned itself into a punishment for such idleness. Needless to say, the old man was no longer accepted by society for what he is and for what he had done.
On a similar note, there also lays another address surrounded with dormant flurries accumulated here and there like a polar ice cap from the artic. The abode was but the large shape and form of a beige chicken egg sitting motionlessly over the cheese colored foundation. The hip roof on top of it sloped down slightly on all four corners. Only three of the wholesome windows were closed shut to seal off the wintry wastelands of February, all of which that formed a triangle. Last but not least was a matching door that added the finishing touch to the gloomy residence by camouflaging itself within the egg like abode.
Inside was the living room which was accommodated with everything that anyone could find that people would call average. There was a table set with scented candlesticks, long green sofa, some magazines and books, a luscious blue rug, a television set, a digital clock with blue numbers and letters, and a nightstand with a lamp and a telephone. The nearby kitchen was typically equipped with an electrical stove, a dish-ridden sink, a fully stocked refrigerator, some run of the mill cabinets, a black microwave, a white dishwasher, a four-slotted toaster, a dining table, and a cleaning twosome of a washer and a dryer. The hallway was dark but thankfully it was not scary to her; however, no one even cared at all. Everywhere inside around the house the wallpaper within were draped in a light yellow and the curtains that accompanied the windowpane were a solid ruby red shade. The floorboards were wooden and bare, smuggling the cold from outside like diligent into the land of the free.
There on the sofa laid a hen with red wine spilling out of her glass and onto the floorboard; in fact, she was in a constantly tiresome stupor. Perhaps this was based on depression so an inside look was bound to be necessary in this case: that hen in question used to be Coop's mother. Despite having to raise her son alone, she was also but a young and widowed single parent for the child having to live comfortably through her works in the headlines as a journalist since birth. Likewise, the circumstances in life based on minority were constantly changing the pecking order, whether it would be at the top, bottom, or even the middle in any other way whatsoever based solely on actions. As a woman, she was always available to other men to strike up a conversation or two merely based on ordinary small talk since the day that Coop's father had passed on. Sometimes at night, she snuck out and partaken in petty heists to raise the surging adrenaline within her body; but, in this kind of weather, it was not the right time to do so. Almost every night, the hen would drink herself to a (non-lethal) comatose with bottles of expensively rare wine online in contrast to the cheap humdrum whisky over the counter.
In the same way as such she truly wondered what had happened to her beloved son, Coop and how her mistake led to it. Although she had believed it was a moment of weakness based on fear, she however underestimated the growing capabilities he had acquired since those long begotten training days ago. Just like how these two years ago was but fifteen minutes of fame predicted by an artist painted soup cans just behind the music, the hen always asks herself, 'where are they now?'
And so it had come to this, a bathroom somewhere within another home from that same town except that it was somewhat less than an hour away, being roughly over a quarter larger than Yang's. The flooring was a clear set of Plexiglas where not even the trampling of heavy feet would either tarnish or shatter it at all. The wallpaper adorned to the bulwarks was displaying the life out as a sailor, completed with a few tugboats, some seagulls, a sunset flying overhead in the cloudy skies, some bountiful fish, and the warm water waving about from sea to shining sea. There was no sign of a window at all for it wasn't even installed at all to begin with. The bathroom toilet and sink were not in use but the shower however was in use, being indicated by the overwhelming steam pouring out from the curtains while clouding the entire room like the morning fog.
Contrary to the thoughts of both the would be voyeurs and expectant readers alike, the one inside the steamy curtains was not a woman at all to begin with; in fact, although this would mean a gentleman was present instead, it was none other than the (once) nerdy Coop himself without his eyeglasses or clothes. His eyes were closed shut as the golden yellow chicken was scrubbing his face, wiping away the pores with soap by using his fingertips to massage the cleanser all over for thirty seconds as he first concentrated on the hairline, then paying special attention to the forehead, nose, and nostrils, next around the mouth and chin, and finally his cheeks. Next, Coop was cleansing the neck using upward strokes with the soapy washcloth then rubbed down his shoulders as spume seeped down from behind. Then the golden yellow chicken scoured his chest as the soapy foams were being left behind as they dripped around the down to his lower torso; still, more bubbles circled around his tail feathers as his washcloth soothingly polished them all. Soon, Coop bent over and started washing his legs from top to bottom 'til the washcloth reached his feet as they were scrubbed along with its palm and between the toes. The moment his was completely covered in foam the showerhead's nozzle fixed onto him, rinsing his body around as the suds slithered down away from the golden yellow feathers of the chicken and down into the drain.
Using the very same water, Coop doused his ginger hair gently as the water soaked it completely. The golden yellow chicken had carefully reached for a shampoo on a rack beneath the showerhead, squirted some on his tresses, and started lathering it inclusively 'til the hair turned into a peachy light apricot color; subsequently, the water from the showerhead cleanse it of the shampoo. Repetition followed as Coop spout some more of it, lathered those locks entirely again with increased fruition, and rinsed it all over again. It wasn't long before he switched out a bottle of shampoo with a bottle of conditioner from the same rack the golden yellow chicken got it from; likewise, he squeezed it in the same spot where the shampoo landed, lathered it, and rinsed that hair on his head once more.
As the water on Coop's body still remained wet and moist, he quickly turned off the nozzle which stopped spraying water over his body. The golden yellow chicken then opened the curtains and stepped out the tub carefully as her feet landed on the ceramic floor. Aware of the moisture dripping down beneath him Coop went to the closet nearby, picked out a towel, dried himself off with it, and then wrapped around his waist compactly. The golden yellow chicken also picked out another smaller towel and wrapped it over his carroty hair in hopes of ceasing the dripping water from turning colder than the currently lukewarm temperature.
After a round of brushing and flossing on the way there, the teenage boy had reached the bedroom in little or no time at all. The ceiling had a spinner fan suspended ten feet from the ground while acting as the main source of light in this room like usual ceilings had. The background, better yet known as those walls that served as the foundation to the bedroom, were adorned in a sky blue decor while being five yards away from the epicenter. The floor was basked in a tufted thickened gray being purchased at a fair bargain only to be later vacuumed and steam cleaned afterwards. Only one window was present, a casement window covered up in one layered set of shutter underneath the closed light jaded curtains facing in the direction of the snow while remaining closed. The red racecar bed rested against near the blue one, the former donning in a beige comforter with thin bed sheets and matching pillows and the latter occupied by the boy antelope whom was now sleeping in heavenly peace. About two dressers were nearby the walls: one was holding a television set above it while the other was just merely half its size. The matching nightstand had a fluorescent lamp that stood up to a half of a yard while wearing a lampshade over it to cover the light bulb inside it but not in use; however, the nightlight was there as it serve as an alternative source for such luminosity.
Looking for some article of clothing to wear for the night, Coop tiptoed to the tall dresser and picked out a black muscle shirt along with some gray boxers from there. The golden yellow chicken then took off his towel and started to first put the boxers on his legs; afterwards, he dressed herself in the black shirt as it now show his substantial physique, now fully dressed as he looked at the mirror and complimented himself before leaving the bedroom again, this time out to work. Though Coop was neither in a towel nor in the nude, the soft texture of the bedroom carpentry sent a message reminded him to seek warmth and she did; before long, he pulled out the eiderdown and the sheets along underneath it athwart the other side of the paillasse so he can get inside; afterwards, he pulled them back to himself the moment he was inside. Before the boy could just simply rest his weary head on the pillow, he outstretched his hand towards the cord below the lampshade, tugged it tightly, and the uplighter became inactive; now, the room was darkened like the night itself as it camouflaged against the downtrodden snowfall. Despite the comfort, the mental abnegation was slowing starting to take control of the golden chicken even in his sleepy forlorn hope.
There was also bathroom somewhere at a town near the riversides of the old smoldering forest but it too was dark. The only sources of light inside that very place were a grouped set of wax candles that gave off herbal essences. The stony walls were already bared, being left untouched by time itself and the people that had ventured within and inhabited them. There was no sign of a window at all for it wasn't even installed at all to begin with; yet, there was only a door but it was locked as well. Though lacking a toilet and sink altogether, the bathroom however had a large open porcelain tub of lukewarm water in the epicenter of the room. Contrary to the terracotta flooring, there was only but a violet rug lying side by side near the tub.
Then, the attention was now currently focused on two tree stumps inside the bathwater, Dave and his mother, whom although had the same color of bark on their bodies and the change within and beyond (or lack thereof) they had their share of differences. First, for starters, the former was a male teenage child whom was also untouched by time itself as well due to height while the latter was an adult female roughly twice his size and approximately three times the age compared to the performance of a masked pilot in contrast to the average one. Secondly, his head was flat and his body was thereabouts squared whereas she had healthy forest green leaves on her head and the abdominal physique of a tall trapezoid. Dave had grapevine colored irises around his two white pupils while his motherly doyenne possessed solid blue closed circles. More descriptively, the young square juvenile had nothing on him at all but the elder female counterpart had a blue towel that matched the trademark mascara.
In the background, her serene humming was heard as it had filled the silent background, that and snowstorm from outside bringing nothing but instant pallor. With years of shame and torture catching up to the poor boy, his tears were once directed towards the water with only his mother watching them and listening closely as she took heed to them. Somehow, she also wanted to cry as if to show that they were not alone, but alas, her psyche forced herself to choke them back; yet, her own eyes were far from apathetic. Though Dave's father was also there for the young tree stump unlike Yin and Yang's, he always took his mother's side no less; unfortunately, that made the lad even more like a mother's boy himself than the cockroach only for the latter to be a misnomer. Perhaps, this may have been the cause for his stunted growth, though the actuality could be psychologically traumatic instead of physical. Irregardless, it was like that a wall was being built around him that was shutting out the world for the sake of solace but at the high cost of low standards and self-esteem altogether.
"Mom, can I please ask you something?" Dave then had started serenely, intending to start up a simple tête-à-tête with his mother. Hearing this question shot up right out of the blue from her own son, she responded, "Why of course dear; go ahead." "Will there be some chance that my old friends have survived somehow?" Dave suddenly started to speak up once more, "it's just that I have this feeling that somehow I want to see them all again." "Well I can't really answer that, son; only time is capable of giving out that answer," his mother responded as she burnished the top of his square head with a sterile sponge. However, the boy tree stump disputed, "but sometimes it takes a long time for things like this to happen and history tends to be a very long road everyone travels on." "Ah, it may be, my dear sweet angel; but, that very road of history itself always bends toward justice," she said, starting to lower the sponge from Dave's head to his equalized back, "maybe by then, you could see those friends again." "Maybe so mom…just maybe" he subtly squeaked.
Soon, the very bathwater splashed onto the young tree stump as it had been washing away all the bitterness that had been cleansed, the first step to taking revenge on his behalf to signify that his grievance shall be avenged (someday); afterwards, the young tree stump's mom grasped a hold of his hand gently, leading him out of the still waters and onto that soft rug as they stepped out. With the blue bath towel around herself already soaked with water from wearing it inside, she scrambled quickly to get me a fresh one for me whereas Dave sat on the warm, all cold, wet, and naked; finally, a clean dry one was successfully found and it was a pure snow white which was wrapped around his body just to dry me off and keep me nice and warm. The tall one also wrapped her arms around her dear son tightly and then whispered into him quietly, "run along now and go straight to bed, Dave; tomorrow will be better." Subsequently, his mother kissed him on the forehead to show love and care like she always did for him before and sent him to his room; afterwards, she removed her towel and returned to tub, resuming her bathing.
Jobeaux the goblin lain across the bed inside the covers face up in his clothes with his wife alongside him, still having shown no sign of any underclothing being worn on her as of now. Despite the warm that had enveloped them in these folds, the former was the most tired as he was buried with exhaustion and deficiency altogether while the latter slept in heavenly peace, recoiling from the joyful bliss shared ago. Contrary to the overall ambiance, it wasn't actually truly like this.
There was a logical explanation for why such a great stonewall was built near this quiet Redneckistan town. Ever since the disaster, its neighboring city started to blame the entire army for the being the sourced cause of all sadness and anger altogether. Soon, a great reform went underway as the public changed its complacent lifestyles, creating aggression and activity within. At any rate this meant that history must stop repeating itself before it got even worse and that the only way to stop it from happening was to work for it and change it, lest similar incidents would happen again. To underwrite that this would sever the ties, a large partition near the borders was completed with tangible limestone and sandstone altogether then christened the "Stone Shutters of Separation." No longer welcomed here at that municipality to reside in or voyage to, visitation was however virtually impossible for anyone from that quiet town, let alone himself and/or his family. Despite this predicament, it didn't stop anyone from breaking those rules (or lack thereof) just to get through the great stonewall by any means necessary whatsoever.
Yet, the adults were also becoming more of a few words themselves despite the fact they were still able to set an example as members of society like anyone should. Jobeaux's father was rendered unable to speak much of any words clearly, forcing him to do little conservational engagement whatsoever in spite of his royal status. Although active he was in need of some medicine that can treat his throat, with the Stone Shutters standing up, smuggling because the last resort. Though lacking of solid rules and those who break them, it was supported in secrecy as participants start to risk life (and limb) to fulfill their king's suppository needs. As the family was visited by a kindred minister and pharmacist nearly all of these responsibilities were absorbed by the matriarch, rendering her as more or less of a (regular) woman that had always been full of energy and life up 'til her aging. Like always, the queen inside her was barely expressed since she and her husband barely had anything to do with these royal affairs as such since their complacency was a rising constant. Still, it didn't stop her from taking up and owning up to the dual roles of a mother and nana to Jobeaux and her granddaughter respectively as those bright, exuberant eyes were now beginning to grow dull and listless with the long fatigue of a weary life overall.
And then, there was his wife and daughter that came to his mind. Honor and devotion were two keywords that had always made him aware of protecting his loved ones at all costs even though this would mean staining his hands to uphold those ties to family. The stature and personality made her his muse and flame altogether; though off at shaky start, it started growing more softer like the white sand where passions of love was made over it. Of course, she became expectant for nearly a year and gave birth afterwards to their lovely daughter, a purple goblin that shared both the likenesses of her parents when all was said and done. Though everyone was there for it with adulation, the only person that showed animosity toward parenthood was from Jobeaux himself he had aimed at; yet, it was stemmed from the parenting his mentor was given from her father that led to all of this. Saddled with parenting and by slide of hand, coupled with the duties of royalty it kept him from quelling his wife's nightly libido let alone be at his upmost fullest. Aside from it all, Jobeaux did have the heart to take up the responsibility as a father a lot more than when Master Yo fathered his protégés in waiting; it was more like raising hope at a young age.
Now it was just time for the goblin to get some form of shuteye as the shine in the storm worked its natural way as everyone (else) in the household had already fell asleep, not to be bothered by the slightest noise at all.
The mountainside cave within the icy grasslands wasn't even much at all to discuss with since almost all of its inhabitants were just fast asleep, wearing two or three blankets on them. Roger (Junior) sat up straight for he was briefly awake for a moment and saw his mother Judi and his sister Tillman close together; then, he took a glance at his father with his club whom was observing the snowy landscape outside while still inside the cave, making sure that no one was looking for them. Though wanting to speak to him, the boy felt that it would be injudicious to throw his own father off his concentration.
Which brings those very readers to Lena's bedroom; although it wasn't actually the true concept of royalty, it still had things that were still considered based on the average bedroom in the average home. The ceiling had a spinner fan suspended ten feet from the ground while acting as the main source of light in this room like usual ceilings had. The background, better yet known as the walls that served as the foundation to the vast bedroom, was surrounded in a pale avocado while being five yards away from the epicenter. The floorboards laid wooden throughout the room. Two different windows were present: one of them, a bay window covered up in one layered set of shutter underneath the closed light pink curtains facing in the northern direction of the occupant's viewpoint and the other, a casement window having only the same set of pink curtains that faced in the western direction; despite that difference, they were both closed. The sleigh bed that rested against the southern wall, though fluffy yet small, was donned in a soft sky blue comforter with thin forest green sheets accompanied by amethyst pillows which all three of them were aligned neatly; also, there were four posts on each corner of the bed. About three coffee dressers were nearby the walls: one was at the northern direction with a television set above it but two were next to each other sharing the southeast angle with only one of them half the size of the two. The matching nightstand had a fluorescent lamp that stood up to a half of a yard while wearing a lampshade over it to cover the light bulb inside it; however, the power was off for it was not in use.
Now, she sat at the edge of the bed with her bare feet touching the flat wood; however, what was different about that was already obvious: aside from the negligee, underneath it was white vest top and some matching knickers. The canine dog was writing in her maroon diary with a pencil in her very hand, jotting down whatever came to her very mind and/or from the bottom of her very heart; in fact, only two paragraphs had been written down: the introductory and the first body paragraph. Each time a paragraph was simply written down inside, Lena would cough and wheeze before sipping on some orange juice to soothe the pain inside her own mouth; afterwards, the writer of the journal would resume to her works. Irregardless, the illness was still prevalent inside her anyway; even so, the writing made the canine dog feel drowsy to continue but she went on nonetheless, hoping that the entire world would know her after the time comes to claim its prize. The writing had produced neither will since Lena had nothing special for her to pass down to or a suicide note at all since she had no strength to commit such an act; yet, darkness was starting to control her mind. Just as she was hurt in life, her pain turned into fear then it metamorphosed into hatred, slowly allowing the world to change into something even worse than her hatred itself.
It was a result that turned Lena's world into an ordinary doll made of straw, just like the house made by the first little pig from a bedtime story used by mothers to put their child(ren) to sleep with a string around its neck; additionally, it would be all hers to keep as she could imagine the face on it. If the canine bear had truly wished for revenge, she would have to untie the string around its neck and if that were to happen, then she will officially enter into a covenant. Soon, it would ferry the soul of Lena's tormentor straight to Hell; however, once vengeance had been served, she would have to deliver on her end of the bargain. There always has to be a price: if the canine bear enters that covenant, her soul should also fall into Hell; but, that's only after she dies. By then, Lena would have never known the joys of Heaven, only to be wandering forever in a world made of pain and agony.
Now, the journal was actually taking control of her mind on her nightly task that truly dawned on her like the rising sun from the east that brought forth a tidal wave of inspiration and awe, striking the land of the free from behind. In a rush of malaise, Lena would imagine herself at a beach made of solely her tears even when she was draped in a hot sweat of a cold reality resting in bed. The canine bear would voice her constant regret the days her (ex-)boyfriend trained her in the now hated art of Woo Foo especially when he laid eyes on her and fell head over heels by telling a lie about being a warrior; though it was partially true, he was virtually inexperienced. Despite the remaining friends that stood by her side, the world was now terrible place to live in ever since when Eradicus was completely destroyed in the shockwave alongside with the town they'd once lived in; she even rejected her father. In addition to the teetering friendships, Lena's equal affinity for the two rabbits was starting to turn into an unrequited romance between the three of them instead of just two and two only, nothing more and nothing else.
Three paragraphs (and one or two more pages) later, coupled with the passing of twenty minutes time, the canine bear was finished with her writing and had put aside the book away. As such, Lena had pulled out the eiderdown and the sheets along underneath it athwart the other side of the paillasse so she can get inside; afterwards, she pulled them back to himself the moment she was inside. Before the canine bear could just simply rest her weary head on the pillow, she outstretched her hand towards the cord below the lampshade, tugged it tightly, and the uplighter became inactive; now, the room was darkened like the night itself as it camouflaged against the downtrodden snowfall. Despite the comfort, Lena coughed again this thick and raspy, causing her to expectorate into the wastebasket; subsequently, the girl was sound asleep.
'Twas the night after the holidays when all through the town, bedtime loomed over, even over puppygriffs at the pound; white stockings were put away with care, since St. Nicholas had already came down there. The babes were nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of snowy weekends dancing in their heads as their mothers in handkerchief, and their father in caps, soldiering through this year's winter with naps. Out on the lawn there was not a clatter, nothing to see what was the matter: the window closed against a thunderous flash along with the shutters and a sash. The moon on the breast of the ash like snow even gave (a) Black Luster Soldier days off below; but, when a certain someone had just disappear not Kringle nor his eight trusty reindeer, but Yin and sister Suzie, so lively and quick, their brothers knew in moments that a raptor was a prick. Santa and his reindeer had already gone and came, whistling, shouting, and called by name: first Dasher then Dancer featuring Prancer with Vixen; second came Comet then Cupid featuring Donner with Blitzen! Then, the people started to recall the memory of the most famous of all: Rudolph with a very shiny red nose and people who've seen it even say it glows; of course, others had laughs and called names not even letting him join any games. Now together with peace, topping off the porch then the wall, they've all dashed away, One, Two, Three, All! As dry leaves before the wild tempest flew, they've met with an obstacle, mount to the sky blue, so up to the house-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas too.
Now, it was a late February dusk and sleep was at the matter for those of them that lived in and gone to town, still up in the dead of night against all odds (and evens). At the stroke of ten, came a programming block that delivered shows from public access along with others at home and overseas to its loyal fans and curious viewers alike as well as eyecatches that talked to them with words and calm music. For such a dark and stormy night, the lights were still illuminating the city altogether as if Novi Finis was known as the city that never sleeps. Soon, it was taken to eleven and yet there were those who watched the news(casts) done by anchor(wo)men and the cabarets by comedians, both that ruled the night like kings and queens, even the King of Queens himself. A couple of drinks were gulped down and a lot of laughs had echoed throughout for every moment imaginable. Then, at the stroke of midnight the spell of the fair lady Cinderella had been broken; as a result, it had forced her to leave in contrast to her Prince Charming who never left her side yet went and lost a shoe on the way out. No one would know what would happen next afterwards, aside from the fact that a second after midnight had heralded in a new day, when tomorrow was today and when today was just yesterday though the daily dawning of the rising eastern sun.
Next, there were people known as clubbers that have stepped out, showing what they were all about with flashbacks of last night balling out. And along came Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse whom ran up the clock; the clock struck one so the mouse ran down, Hickory Dickory dock. Of course at 1:00 AM people were still at the (night)club asking what happened last night. With Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse whom ran back up the clock; the clock struck two and down he flew, that dear Hickory Dickory dock. Now at 2:00 AM some people attempt to party hard all night (and day) but ended up drinking up to ten bottles of bubbly champagne. Again with Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse whom ran up the clock; soon, the clock struck three and soon he did flee, that Hickory Dickory dock. And (about) three something, someone was thinking about grub so he stumbled to the car, and threw the drinks and the drugs away with the help of his sober colleagues as designated as an half an hour passed, so did the people who stayed up with those computers by their side had turned in and gone straight to bed.
Yet, came Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse whom ran up the clock; when the clock struck four, he had hit the floor, that sweet old Hickory Dickory dock. And so did everyone whom were grounded to the bedposts of sleep as the turnkey operations of heavy machinery worked after hours longer than the ones at a 9-to-5 pace in their eight hour workday, making up roughly a forty hour workweek (plus overtime). Still, Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse, ran up the clock; the clock struck five and he took a dive, that poor old Hickory Dickory dock. Now, the snowstorm was cleared away like the guilt from one's past as the ash like snow had buried itself in up to just about roughly under a yard like the waters from the sandy beach where people had taken their long walks, looking at other plenty of fish in the sea when it was darkest before the dawn while wondering to themselves if it was meant to be. Straightaway, Hickory Dickory dock the mouse still alive ran up the clock; the clock struck six, and so he had to split, that tired Hickory Dickory dock. Now the golden sun rose and shone the way for tomorrow had finally came for today, trading places with the silver moon after their Mother Earth spun around on its own axis for twenty-four hours a day, several days a week, and three hundred and sixty-five days a year (on average of course).
Finally Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock, striking up seven (just four more 'til eleven) for Hickory Dickory dock: "Hickory Dickory dock, why scamper?" asked the clock, "you have scared me so I have to go, Hickory Dickory dock." The cloudy gray skies set the atmosphere in play as it circled the world's hemisphere with the cold temperatures at bay. The gentle breeze gave the trees frostbite; even a few birds moved southward in an attempt to escape from it all. The ash like snow had frozen flowers and grass after eight hours of a nightly deluge; even so, a few automobiles of all shapes, sizes, makes, and even models were trapped at the side of every street, road, turnpike, avenue, bridge, tunnel, highway, and freeway. People were seen leaving home, most took their wives and/or their kids to go ice skating; some went to summon a tow truck guy with a complex past; others decided to walk away with their shovels to go free their beloved automobiles.
Yang slept on the bed that was inside the bedroom no more than roughly ten hours ago and still snored quietly; just abruptly, the clock on the nightstand near him rang as it said 7:30. In response, the blue bunny woke up from his slumber with a yawn and punched out a Clockwork Orange square in its face quickly as the bare feet touched the dark golden carpentry floor slowly. The boy slowly stood up straight and started to leave her bedroom tiredly, heading towards the bathroom nearby as the his eyes were still partially glued to the floor. The moment it was finally located, Yang then shut the door behind him, went towards the bathtub, and opened the curtains which revealed the entrance. Looking at the nightwear that was worn to bed last night, he first unbuttoned his flannel shirt completely and took the matching trousers and underwear altogether off his waist; now, the hare was completely bare, sensing the icy brisk atmospheric oxygen dousing the cerulean fur on the owner's body. Yang then stepped into the tub slowly and carefully as he closed the curtains behind the similar way he did to the door earlier. Taking knowledge of the mixer tap's three handles, the blue rabbit place his hand on the one in the middle and then the nearby knobs as well; before long, water shot out of its nozzle and onto the owner's fur, bringing a (more or less) lukewarm feeling around him as those azure cheeks turned red.
Yang reached his hand out for a jade washcloth and a ruby bar of soap and commenced to be washing himself. The elongated auricles on the proprietor's head were the foremost target as the blue bunny's washcloth went both inside and outside of them with such ease. Secondly, Yang started scrubbing his face starting with the cheeks; in addition, he wiped the nostrils underneath his proboscis. Next, the blue hare bristled around his neck with the soapy washcloth before starting to wash under both his forearms and underarms when all was said and done; luckily, the restricted hot washcloth then rubbed around those broad cold shoulders as spume seeped down his back. Then, Yang scoured his chest as soapy foams were being left behind as they dripped around and down to her lower torso. More bubbles then circled around backside as his washcloth soothingly polished his fundament simultaneously; soon, the blue rabbit bent over and started washing his legs from top to bottom 'til the bottle green washcloth reached the feet as they were scrubbed along with its soles and between his toes. The moment Yang was completely covered in foam the showerhead's nozzle fixed onto his body again, rinsing him around as the (soap)suds slithered down away from the blue fur and down into the drain.
Afterwards, his prepuce caught the bunny's attention as he lathered his olive washcloth again with the very soap he'd used. It had covered his shaft as Yang's hand padded over and started rubbing it slowly as it had gotten firm and lengthy. Feeling the slowly tightening reaction of his prepuce chaffing against the washcloth and the water pouring around his body the blue rabbit's teeth were grinding; even so, the boy started to envisage that his (ex-)girlfriend, Lena was there with him in the altogether as well, wrapping her arms around his thighs suckling on it. Yang could barely help but moan every time the texture of the two surfaces made contact; in no time, he started to give out a louder moan. In a little while, he started to spread both his legs and had one of his hands holding onto the handlebars as he started making small movements slowly; still, the washcloth scoured throughout the rigid, long shaft. Another moan escaped from Yang's lips as he felt himself holding onto the handlebars, grunting with pleasure as he felt the washcloth stroking up and down his prepuce with its contents gathering around as he continued to moan in confidential ecstasy. In return, his movements and massaging caused his shaft to squirt a creamy fluid of his own manliness onto his washcloth as it indicated that he was now finally satisfied.
As the nerves and stamina inside Yang's whole body finally regained control almost immediately, he quickly turned off the nozzle which stopped spraying water over his body. The blue bunny then opened the curtains and stepped out the tub carefully as his feet landed on the ceramic floor. Aware of the moisture dripping down himself Yang went to the closet nearby, picked out a white towel, dried himself off with it, and then wrapped around his waist compactly in hopes of ceasing the dripping water from turning colder than its now lukewarm temperature. Now, the blue hare went towards the sink and started to brush his teeth, making sure that every single one of his pearly whites where cleaned away of all plaque; subsequently, it was followed by a side helping of gargling mouthwash.
Flossing some teeth on the way there, Yang had returned to the bedroom in little time in all. Looking for some article of clothing to wear for the day, the blue rabbit went to the wardrobe and picked out a jet black denim coat along with a matching pair of jeans. Laying them both aside on the bed, he'd went up to a dresser and opened it wide, pulling out some undergarments from there consisting only a pair of briefs and a short-sleeved undershirt before closing the drawer back up. Yang then took off his towel and started to first put the briefs on his legs; afterwards, he dressed himself in the matching undershirt as it now secreted the midriff and umbilicus. The blue bunny was now ready to put on his shadowy jacket as he picked it up from the eiderdown and clothed it over the snow white undershirt; similarly, the pubertal boy did the same with the pants to the matching briefs. Yang was neither in a towel nor in the nude; before long, he was now fully dressed as he looked at the mirror and complimented himself before leaving the bedroom again.
As he started to leave, his ears hardened as he heard a sound; better yet, that sound in question was actually more of a low growl coming from inside of the abdomen, sending a message to the hare to got eat something. Yang went to the kitchen where the refrigerator was in place as it was opened, searching the contents inside 'til he pulled out a gallon of milk from there and closed the refrigerator; then, the boy closed it and extracted a box of cereal from the top of the very same refrigerator. The blue hare looked into the kitchen drawer, pulled out a silver spoon, and closed it again. As the boy sat the cereal box, milk, and spoon onto the dinner table, he faced the cabinet door, opened it, pulled out a bowl, and shut the door afterwards. Yang then joined the bowl together with the three objects from minutes before and prepared a bowl of cereal all just for himself only. When the blue rabbit pulls out and takes his seat, down came the victuals with what a very scrumptious treat; out came the milk pouring over like rain and so the fruity cereal in the spoon went inside to reign.
With the first bite, the boy rabbit chewed like a cow on the brilliant green and swallowed as if they were just swills of orange juice, time being still like plot holes in an episode of a white robot strapped to multiple bombs while its owner did a lot to removed them; in short, he was the (direct descendant of) Little Miss Muffet who sat on a tuffet, eating the curds away. All that was missing was the itsy bitsy spider; matter of fact, it was right there just above Yang and its name was Henry who was just awake already from before staring at him from above. "AHH!" the little boy blue screamed, jumping from his seat in fear (and loathing) as he shouted, "WHATEVER IT IS, I DIDN'T DO IT!" "I didn't come here to give you a scare, Yang," the elder indigo counterpart responded subtly despite feeling drips of milk splash onto his face. The little boy blue (bunny) countered, "well, it's not nice to sneak up on people; besides, what did you came here for?" "Just finish your meal soon," Henry said to the boy, "I need to get to my job quickly." And so, at a rate that it took for a nimble Jack (to) be quick to jump over the candlestick, Yang had finished his meal soon.
The (army of) two were now at the bus stop as the elder was in his hatchback while his younger brother sat there, listening to the reason for the short conversation earlier. "Alright, I know that what happened last night has been extremely rough for you; but, I want to assure you that my colleagues will find them soon," the indigo hare said to Yang. The blue rabbit responded, "how is that even possible? Times like this make me wish that I should have made that guy taste the fury of my (stupid) sword." "You would have but doing that would mean killing him, and everyone already knows that killing is wrong," Henry responded, "anyway, since the suspect was captured, there might be a strong chance that he could tell us something about the girls from last night." "That bastard has to; any minute from now, it should have been on the news by now!" Yang reacted. Henry looked at him frankly in the eye as he frowned at the young boy saying sternly, "watch it Yang…"
"Okay then," little boy blue sighed calmly "so how come I can't stay home today?" "Simple: I don't trust you to be all by yourself at home for even second; therefore, you're going to the museum of fine arts," the indigo elder answered. The blue rabbit then countered "oh come, I hate the museums; they're so boring!" "Look Yang, I would like to take you along with me but my boss will not like it," Henry said as he then saw a white city bus in the distance that was being driven along the concrete path the officer's car was in and said, "well, here's your ride…I will meet up with you during lunch hour, 'til then here some money that will pay for bus fares, admission fee, lunch, and everything else."
So with the roll of the car's right side window the indigo hare sped off in the fastback straight to his job just as the bus pulled aside in the same spot where the white automobile was before it went. It parked itself in front of the bench Yang was sitting on and hissed when its door started to open themselves to the boy as he got on it while the age-old driver stared at the road tiredly yet aware of his surroundings in the environment he entered. When he made sure that the passengers were properly seated and double-checked to see if anyone else was going to board the vehicle only to find that these three were all he can find, he pulled on the handle that made both the doors retracted and hiss again and stepped onto the pedal where in a flash of a second the wheels got into motion once more again, like usual. After Yang had paid his dues he sat in the middle of the very back seat of the bus; also, there were other occupants on the bus. The bus traveled throughout the city as it made stops on the way, picking up one, two, three, or even four students that waited patiently, got on there, and talked about humdrum topics on a universal basis as they rode on the white automobile the old driver operated, everyone but Yang.
At the police station, Henry walked up to the door that would lead him into a room with a tap on the entry as he'd placed his gloved hand on the doorknob, turned it clockwise, opened the door, revealed himself to be at another room. The ceiling had been suspended three yards from the ground while the main source of light in this room was from outside. The background, better yet known as the walls that served as the foundation to the humble room, was surrounded in a fresh coat of bland lead gray paint which was substantial and acceptable by building code regulation. The flooring was covered in blackness (but each one will burn bright red) and sturdy for the people in the room to walk around without worrying about slipping and falling on it. There were only two pedestal desks, one with a flat screen computer and a telephone and another facing the other way. Aside from jet black swivel chair being taken by the antelope there was also a yellow steno chair which was occupied by a seated individual.
That individual in question was a corpulent black falcon with a paired set of goldeneyes whose winged wrists were bounded by a pair of handcuffs. It had a purple jacket on himself with overlapping lapels in the company of golden diamond throwing stars on each of the breast pockets. The jacket was tucked into some jet black trousers that had fastened the ankles, knees and waist altogether, camouflaging the falcon's lower body. The tail feathers were blood red, matching the tips of his talons and the spots surrounding his eyes; overall, the claws were clockwork orange yet they barely touched the ground. The falcon stared down at the floor with anger and noncompliance.
"Good morning, Henry," Commissioner Scotch greeted as he was waiting for the indigo bunny to show, "I was waiting for you since morning." "I see; is that the suspect from last night?" Henry asked as he looked at the suspect with curiosity. The superior answered, "As a matter of fact, yeah, he is. Ever since his arrival, our men have been trying to get something out him but he didn't crack at all; come to think of it, he arguably reminds me of my boy Burton when I asked him about where he went off to." "Maybe I can help," the indigo bunny responded, "I'll just let him stew before I have a go at him; besides, Yang was on the verge of wanting to kill him for taking part of this." "That won't be necessary, Henry because I'll be leading the interview," the antelope countered. Henry then said, "what are you playin' at? This is my case; I'm not going to sit back and..." "Hey, watch it!" Scotch snapped, "You're too close to this entire case and you know it! This is procedure and you know that; capisce?" "Yes, sir," the indigo hare replied. The antelope pointed his finger towards the doorway and commanded his underling to walk out saying, "now wait outside for a while until something happens."
Later on in Interrogation, Henry watched as Scotch is interviewing the handcuffed falcon. "We all know that kidnapping is a very serious offense we are all talking about, especially when involving law enforcement," the antelope stated, "You better give me something Keenan, if you don't want the maximum; you know what'll be happening like if those girls wind up dead?" "Tell me, why should I give a damn about them?" Keenan responded as he puts his feet up on the table while the indigo rabbit is eavesdropping nearby. Scotch answered sternly, "You know how it is, birdbrain; you even been to reformatory school since your senior year so here's how it's gonna be: they'll have you locked up with all the other hardened criminals they'll have their way with you so much, you'd be afraid of picking up the soap bar in front of everyone else that likes a bit of rough in the shower." "Hold on a bit, I could be helpful," the falcon responded "Although I don't know much about my buddies from last night, I do have some reports that there have been some suspicious people at a depot just east off of Howler Bridge in District Liber; other than that my friend, that's all I know." "About time!" the antelope bellowed. Keenan cawed, "What else do you want, punk, directions; how the hell would I know, stag fag?"
"Wong," spoke Commissioner Scotch as he came out the room and continued, "go to Howler Bridge, immediately; we have trouble." "I don't see what it has anything to do with last night's incident," Henry responded confused towards his superior. But the antelope shouted, "Can't you see that there is a crime in progress? Just GO!" "Alright then, sir!" the indigo bunny soon complied as he left his superior's sight, "what is the world coming to?"
Back to Yang, the city bus had started to pull off from the bus stop where it had unloaded some of its passengers ready to start the day while trading in for some of those who got onboard; speaking of where in this case, it had stopped by at a museum that Henry had just talked about earlier. It was a large building that stood on ground zero merely built up with a standard set of the sturdiest bricks known to the entire world (and history of architecture altogether). It was surrounded by a fence with a black steel gate and all of it was colored a light burgundy with a side helping of a creamy beige shade, making it look like some fancy university for topnotch students from. Open fields were also present yet they were covered in snow as if they were a (French) vanilla ice cream served alongside some cake, the latter being the museum itself that was visualized as; in fact, if it were a large dessert being served then the only thing that would be missing was some chocolate rain to pour all over.
Anyways, the blue rabbit had now gotten inside the large museum which was starting to look a lot like the world of nothingness; perhaps, it's a small world after all. Every part of the ceiling along with the walls inside the vast building were but only a snow white just like Mary's little lamb or like Little Bo Peep who had lost her sheep. There were also some small green plants, basking and bathing in the moist warm soil to fight off the wintry bite that had clamped onto the dear Novi Finis City like a great white shark on a boat in the deep blue sea. The flat floorboards were wooden and brown, arraigned in its proper place like the stars and the moons in the nighttime sky.
Now right in front of the boy was an attendant who had stood behind the marble topped desk and it was just merely a feminine vermillion gopher. She had some blond hair on her head that glowed like the golden sun with some of the parted strands of its hairstyle dyed black to create a dark dawn. The gopher wore a small green hat over the treasury tresses that matched the vest over her gray blouse and sarong altogether. Those small eyes of her were but only just a light shade of sky blue irises circle strafing around the black pupils. The gopher's body was slender yet her bosoms were nonexistent small because her youth; in fact, she was older than Yang himself albeit somewhat responsible. Aside from that and what of it, her face was cheery; her smile was glistening with the ivory whiteness called hygiene in contrast to the blue bunny's butter yellow dentures.
"Hello, young man and welcome to 'The Jared der Schwarzschild Museum: The Galleria of Revelry;' what can I do for you today?" the feminine gopher greeted with enquiry in the air. Yang responded lowly, "Just a little of the old look around; how much is it because it looks very expensive around here?" "Oh it's nothing much," she had responded to his somewhat wryly response for the earlier question; "the exhibition is free but upstairs is off limits." "How come is that possible?" the blue hare had asked the older girl with these very words. The gopher then answered, "it's a private party on the second floor; it was rented out just only yesterday." "Okay then," he said, "I understand…"
After a brief conversation, it was time to look around him; unlike a museum of (un)natural history, it was something better than that for that everywhere Yang had went, there was artwork of all shapes and sizes at every turn: sculptures, paintings, collages, anything of artistic value whatsoever. They were the result of what the author had in mind for them based on their surrounding or what the author was back then; most of them gained fame overnight, some within a fortnight, others at the turn of the century, and a few even gained it after death. Most of the very artwork was made by any means necessary: paper, plastic, metal, glass, sand, stone, lead, graphite, glitter, even jewelry, all with tender loving care. Some of them were really old enough to be considered close to becoming a member of society let alone a model citizen, while others had a history that dated back to many incidents in its life itself let alone only yesterday. It either came from within the domiciles of the home rule or from the foreign affairs in the past times when dark clouds loomed ahead over everyone in sight. Either way, it had been serving some form of purpose in life once it had just came into existence. Whether if it was constructed with straws, sticks, or even bricks, all it matter was that it was up to the current generation to decide if it has reached out in their favor.
Irregardless, none the other artworks ever brought joy to the blue rabbit at all; in place of it, was nostalgia and angst. Most of the artworks reminded the boy of one of th(os)e kidnappers he wanted to kill that fateful night ago; little did he know, that kidnapper in question what but only a juvenile just like him but more older than him. Some of them struck a chord for Master Yo, the one that walked out on both Yin and Yang; little did the latter also know about, his father was still alive and well. Other made the boy reminiscent of the twelve votes that killed victory along with the voices of children that came to see battle as one of the parents said no, then everyone else said no; now, everyone was nowhere to be found. A few brought chills to the blue bunny's spine as it made him think about Eradicus who attacked the former's hometown that now lain in a blanket of defeat, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust as the victims that once inhabited it had rested in peace on their way to heaven while the latter that caused himself to spill their blood had died a thousand deaths as he was ferried to hell.
Only one work of art inside that very museum had truly brought some form of comfort to little boy blue as he stopped to look in such awe and wonder at the sight of it. It was a large limestone statuette of an elegant woman sitting down on a column dressed in a tunic from the waist down along with another extensive piece of cloth on her lap as she was half naked, exposing her navel, shoulders, and most of all her cleavage altogether standing four meters tall in the center of the right wing of the museum. The reason for this obvious predicament besides just mere eye candy was only contrary to popular belief: the subject in question was holding some infant children of hers, a boy and a girl, wrapped in swaddling clothing in each of those two hands near the papillae of the bust as if she was just breastfeeding them both at once. The mother looked at the very two of them subtly with only but a mere heartwarming smile as she watched those twins of hers suckling on these sugary teats filled with milk (and honey) as if she cared for them both completely like any parent (let alone a matriarch) should knowing what those beautiful children will grow up into as she raised them. Her long hair streamed down behind her weary back with such mysticism and magnificence as her head tilted forward and her two eyes squinted, growing somewhat lifelike to a certain few that looked past her dishabille; Yang was one of those few that marveled at it as he felt that it had just spoke more than the thousand words of an average picture [but less than the tens (even hundreds) of thousand in the story so far]. He even imagined himself as one of those infant children that fed on their mother's bosoms knowing that the reason for his existence was because of his own mother; yet, he himself and his sister were taken from theirs by their father's mentors whom also took the latter's memory along with it when they were in their infancy. As a result, they were also rejected by their own father who had left them behind to go back to live his 'bachelor' lifestyle (alone) while they were spending their humble beginning with their matriarch and two of their father's former advisors. In short, the blue hare had hated his own father since that dreaded day those people had died at the hands of the now late Night Master but loved his mother (if there was ever one for him) since the day he himself and Yin were born into this world of the living; thus, Yin and Yang were well-deserved and fitting names for the girl and the boy, correspondingly.
Then, something hit the juvenile as if someone was watching him since the moment he had walked inside the luxurious gallery; ironically, it was coming from inside him as his vesicles were getting filled by the water inside. Because the body was capable of holding just about an ounce of fluids, little boy blue was compelled to find a restroom nearby in due time; unfortunately, the route that would lead itself to the bathroom was blocked by a median to discourage trespassers from stepping into the twilight zone that was forbidden. However, the lawless Yang went hopping over the small barrier even as no one was looking to pay attention to this predicament at all and reached the knob on the door that would take him to the bathroom he had greatly desired to enter in.
Soon, the rabbit came inside the lavatory from within the galleria; generally, it was half the size of the right wing but just like the average restroom. The flooring was merely made up of pearly white tiles on the ground instead of the wood that all sat in the very lobby. The walls were painted in a vague taupe, an arguably colorfully shade that matched up against the one that had represented the nothingness inside the very bathroom. There was only but one window inside where people can see what was going on outside the sumptuous galleria where the hustle (and bustle) and flow unfolded. The bathroom was accommodated with typical things including a long line of bathroom stalls, each with a toilet inside of them and their respective sinks in front of them all that waited for the people who would get out to go wash their very upper appendages most called their very hands; in addition, there were also some urinals signifying that it was made just for men.
Since this bathroom tended to be one of the cleanest all that the boy needed to do now was to pick a stall and the first one he had walked in was appearing to be reasonably clean. Secondly, Yang had to made sure that the door was closed behind him completely, locking the stall afterwards to safeguard his now secure(d) privacy. Following this, the blue bunny prepared his seat, wiping it with fresh toilet paper coupled with a seat cover that was folding the new sheets over where it was going to be installed; additionally, more clean sheets of toilet paper were laid inside the bowl on the surface of the water. After unzipping his chinos, he had positioned his posterior somewhat about at the right angle and successfully planted it was now ready to go do his business in the bathroom peacefully, pinching a loaf at every chance that was given to that very same manipulator right every now and then. It was very simple to be au fait with: either that everybody poops or nobody poops (but you); nevertheless, Yang was a naughty child and that's concentrated evil coming out the back of him each second it had passed him by as pieces of waste (or two) came out and slid right into the water. Despite the unpleasant scent and sight of it the porcelain throne he sat on was capable of handling whatever had been consumed and expelled, holding it all in 'til it was finished. The blue hare reached for some toilet paper and rolled those sheets together before it ran up in between his thighs and slowly; before long, his fundament was all clean and the soiled toilet paper sheets slid out into the water. Finished for so long, Yang had got up and threw his makeshift seat cover into the bowl with the excreted waste that was made just after he zipped up his denims and flushed with his hands in between the two tasks that were executed.
The boy then exited the stalls and went to sink to wash his hands after taking care of some business a few minutes earlier (make that double the ten minutes from earlier). Taking knowledge of the mixer tap's twin handles, the blue rabbit place his hand on the one with the reddish orange ring around it; before long, water shot out of its nozzle and onto the operator's hands, bringing a (more or less) lukewarm but comfortable feeling. Yang placed one of his hands underneath a soap dispenser only to feel a dime sized squirt of liquid hand soap land on it; soon, he lathered and rubbed both his hands together for at least twenty seconds which was sixty times quicker than the time on the toilet, washing well between his fingers and underneath those nails. The moment those very hands were completely covered in foam the water was fixed onto them again, this time rinsing the boy's hands around as the suds slithered down away from them and down into the drain. The blue bunny had stretched his hands out underneath an automatic paper towel dispenser to find a fraction of its papery contents sliding out of the machine and onto the upper appendage; using those two paper towels, he had dried his hands completely. Finally, Yang had turned off the faucet with the same paper towel, discarded it into garbage can, and left the lavatory.
As he strolled down towards the lobby, he found an open door near a stairway up to the forbidden area. Walking inside through the door, little boy blue went downstairs to the basement only to find another with a revolver spotting him in less than a second; luckily, before the latter could even fire a single shot, the former threw a boomerang made of bamboo at him, striking the temple at high velocity so hard the gunman fell down the stairs hard into a catalepsy to the point of no return before it came back to its owner. "SOMEONE ON THE SET!" someone shouted as another gunman showed up with his shotgun to see what had happened, only to find his possibly lifeless colleague and Yang a few steps higher; unfortunately, this gunman was also hit square in the head by that same weapon from before. Still, the boy hare continued downstairs to the cellar disgruntledly saying, "What the Foo is going on here...?"
It was simply obvious to understand: the basement that was his recently arrived destination was also off limits to a select few. The ceiling was jet black as it had matched the floor from below, dominated by pipes that were flowing air, heat, and sewage to its appropriate designated terminus. The background, better yet known as those walls that had served as the foundation to the crypt, were made with bricks, each part with a source of light. Not a single window was present to shine some light in the underground corridor; instead, there were just doors. Cubed cardboard boxes had rested at the corners of the room. A water heater was also in sight just about less than ten yards away, with a box next to it that held its fuel together with it.
Just as Yang had put one foot in front of the other, it had delivered him an answer to his question from earlier. Two more gunmen had emerged in sight, one from the wooden crate with a revolver and the other from the right with an automatic rifle, taking a shot at the blue rabbit; however, they missed because the boy dodged them in time and counterattacked with the same boomerang from earlier and disarmed the men. Even worse, before they attempted to pick their ordnances back up into their hands, Yang just whaled on them both with waves of kicks, chops, and punches in moments while unlocking his full potential. Little boy blue then traversed down the corridor where the water heater was after the retaliatory scuffle, only to find even more gunmen waiting for him as they took a shot at the intruder; providentially, he took cover by jumping to the right. Yang peaked carefully at them and his boomerang at the armed men only to miss them all, barely touching their deterrents in their tight grip; however, it had scratched the covering of the water heater so deep, black oil poured out the laceration and flowed towards the former before returning back at him. "You know little boy: hiding won't save you!" one of the gunmen with an automatic rifle taunted the boy as the former perambulated towards the other side while continuing, "Just give it up you floaty eared freak and we'll go easy on you!" "Like pellets I am; FISTS OF FIRE!" Yang cried as one of his fists had ignited into flames, punching the gunman out in the chest as he too burst into flames as well before falling onto the oil. In next to no time, the oil was ablaze as it trailed back to the water heater like if it were a firecracker about to explode into the air. The remaining gunmen saw this happening and tried to put out the fires but it was too late.
The water heater exploded, sending great balls of fire and shrapnel everywhere in its wake as it had caused great damaged beyond repair. The black ceiling was still barely unaffected by the explosion yet the air was becoming warm than before. Cardboard boxes near the corner were now a light with smoke billowing just like the chestnuts roasting over an open fire during Christmastime. Burnt flesh and blood of the comatose gunmen added the scent of the atmosphere with the smoking oxygen that inhabited the once clean air. The oil remained there on the floor but the water heater was gone to pieces, throwing other objects that survived it out of place.
Yang was still alive afterwards because of the act of taking cover and he crisscrossed down the corridor past the dead men's toasted bodies 'til something caught his eye. It was a terracotta soldier resting on a wooden crate staring motionlessly as the boy picked it up and took off with it; little did he know, it was going to cause problems. Yet, it was far from over…
Author's Note: Now that was a mouthful... I guess I should rest for now; but, before I do so, I want to give out some credit. Keenan the falcon is based after the "Digimon" characters, Keenan Crier and Falcomon altogether with a pinch of Bobb'e J. Thompson.
Sanzo: Aren't you forgetting something?
Dominique: Uh, yeah... Please Read and Review!
Sanzo: Uh no... before that.
Dominique: What's that?
Sanzo: I guess it's up to me now. We used some nursery rhymes to keep the story going like a clockwork orange; in addition, since y'all count this as an early Christmas present, we'll also dedicate this chapter to those we all have lost this year: Tsutomu Yamaguchi, Daisuke Gouri, J. D. Salinger, Charlie Wilson, Lena Horne, Gary Coleman, Dennis Hopper, Satoshi Kon, Tony Curtis, Stephen J. Cannell, David Brown, and Takeshi Shudo. You will all be dearly missed as we all take a moment of silence for one minute please.
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Dominique: Okay, since that we're done now that's it, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy NEW YEAR...(or NOT; HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA)!