Trailer Park Boys In Resident Evil By JediClutz

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, Trailer Park Boys, or any of its characters.

"Are you sure you won't do it?" Randy asked Leon.

"No, Randy. I won't," he replied.

"Honestly?" said Randy. "You're not gonna arrest me of we make it out of this city alive, right?" The steel door near the top of a rusty balcony opens outward and Leon walks into a large concrete room which housed the entrance to the sewers, followed by Randy and Julian. A stairway, coated in brownish-red rust, leads down to the cold shores of the murky waste water. The atmosphere was engulfed in the foul stench of rotting feces and other various types of undesirable waste.

"Don't worry," Leon replied again, who was starting to get a little annoyed. "I'm not gonna arrest you. Now please, drop it already."

"But I can't, Leon," continued a worried Randy. "I just killed an unarmed person. I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to deal with that." Leon stops just before the stairs and turns to face Randy. Calming himself down, he lets out a long sigh.

"Randy, what you did back in the cellblock was the right thing," he said. "Shooting Ben before that thing bursted out of him may have saved him from living through the horrific pain he would've experienced if he was kept alive. Okay?"

"Thanks," said Randy. "I'll try not to let it bother me too much...God, I hope Mr. Lahey never finds out, if he's still alive."

"Fuck Lahey," was Julian's response. "He's usually too busy dimming his mind with liquor. Besides, he will never find out if you don't tell him." A crumbling sound that seemed to come from the celling startles the group and they curiously look around.

"There," said Leon, pointing to a location on the ceiling where tiny clouds of dust rained from the source of the sound. The concrete then collapses onto the floor below and Ada falls through the newly-created hole. She hits the awaiting surface hard but manages to bring herself up. She did not appear to be injured, except for a few cuts and scrapes. The men were surprised to see her again for the fouth time. "Ada!" Not expecting to run into the group again, Ada turns to see Leon running down the stairway towards her. Then they stare at each other face to face.

"What the hell was that about?" said Leon angerily. "You've got to stop running off like that or you might end up dead just like Ben."

"I was there, Leon. I know," said Ada.

"Look Ada," said Leon after a short pause. "As a police officer, it is my job to look out for you, Julian, and Randy. But we'll never get through this alive if we don't all work together. Okay?"

"Alright," replied Ada. "We'll do this your way, for now."


It has only been a short while since Claire rode the elevator down to see what Chief Irons had been hiding. Sherry quietly sits on the floor with her legs bent inwards, nearby the secret entrance. Next to the office's main entrance, Bubbles stands with his grenade launcher ready. His trigger finger shakes and he looks as if he's determined to do something. Ricky rests in the desk chair with his body flopped down in it. His dope plant peaks on top of the old desk. He waits patiently with everyone else for Claire's return.

"Ricky, do you think Claire's gonna come back soon?" asked Sherry.

"I don't know," replied Ricky. "She might. She could take about five minutes or twenty minutes to do what she's doing before heading back here. But I wouldn't worry too much. She's a fucking strong girl. She will come back."

"I hope so," said Sherry.

"Damn it, I can't stand it anymore!" shouted Bubbles. "I need to get back at those zombie bastards some more. Maybe I'll blow away a few with my boomstick." He swings open the wooden door next to him. "Guys, I'm going out hunting."

"Whoa, hold on a sec, Bubs," said Ricky before his friend could leave. "You need to fucking conserve your grenades."

"But I still have a shitload of those, Ricky," continued Bubbles. "I just wanna use a couple more on some fucking undead dickweeds. And if I ever see that Samsquitch, I'll bolt back here before he could notice me." He walks out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Silence settles back in. After a brief period with no spark of conversation, Ricky stands up and grabs a couple leaves off his dope plant.

"Man, I'm still hungry for some more ja-lap-eno chips," he said. "I'm going over to the vending machine. Do you want anything?"

"No thank you, I'm fine," replied Sherry.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, you can have some of my chips," said Ricky.

"Thanks, Ricky," said Sherry with a smile. Ricky picks up his shotgun, which was lying next to the dope plant on the desk, and begins to head towards the door. "Uhh, Ricky?" He stops right in front of the door and looks back at Sherry. "It's pronounced jalapeno, not ja-lap-eno."

"Now you're starting to sound like Claire," said Ricky with a laugh. He leaves the office. Sherry continues to sit and wait for Claire, only this time she's alone. She curiously stares at Ricky's dope.


Somewhere on the dark, empty streets of Raccoon City, Jim Lahey rests in the driver's seat of his parked blue car. A four-way intersection lies in front of the vehicle. The whole area was completely silent, except for a few groans from, more likely, nearby zombies. The keys dangled from the ignition but the car was turned off. A glass bottle is held in Lahey's right hand. It was full with bourbon whiskey. He looks down at the liquor bottle and smiles as he unscrews the top.

"Do you mind if I have a drink?" Lahey happily said to himself. "Don't mind if I do." He brings the ridged neck to his lips and downs a long sip. His face muscles cringe as the whiskey passed through his mouth and down his throat. After setting down the bottle, he stares at it again. "Do you mind if I have another drink?...Sure, knock yourself out." Lahey takes another long sip and then screws the top back on. His head nods a little from side to side as the alcohol began to dull him.

"Well, I guess I don't have to deal with Julian and his two buddies anymore for a long time," Lahey continued to talk alone. "They took the shithighway back to prison and I supplied the local police with sufficient evidence. As soon as I get back home, I'll be able to run Sunnyvale Trailer Park my way with no problems and Randy will still be my assistant supervisor. Now all I have to do is catch Julian's two dumbass lackeys." Suddenly, he hears some loud banging coming from his side window. Lahey slowly turns his head to see a bloodthirsty zombie trying to get at him. It slams its rotting hands against the safety glass. He stares at the zombie and then wonders to himself. "What the hell's going on in this town? Is there some kind of local special event where the whole city gets drunk or something? Wow, I guess I came here at the right time. Here's to you, buddy." He holds up the liquor bottle in front of the zombie's face. The sound of an approaching vehicle grows louder from the right side of the intersection. Lahey turns, accidently dropping the bottle onto his lap, and looks to see a small car speeding across the street. He catches a brief glimpse of the vehicle's occupants. It was Cory and Trevor.

"Did you shitratlings think you could elude me that easily?" said an angry, drunk Lahey. "Well, you don't know Officer Jim Lahey." He quickly turns the keys in the ignition and the car starts. Shifting into drive, he steps on the gas and the back tires squeal. The zombie ends up rolling along the blue car's side before falling onto the pavement. Due to Lahey's drunken state, he ends up knocking down a nearby stop sign before making a wide left turn, running over another sign. He accelerates down the road in pursuit of the other car.


In the hallway that stretched down to the office's entrance, Ricky and Bubbles walk towards the old wooden door. Ricky is smoking a wrapped joint and holding a small bag of jalapeno-flavoured chips in one hand and his shotgun in the other. Bubbles calmly holds his grenade launcher which now reeked of gun residue.

"Jesus, Ricky. More chips?" said Bubbles. "Are you still hungry after seeing all those charred zombies that I had blown up just recently?"

"Don't fucking remind me, Bubbles!" responded Ricky. "I don't wanna lose my appetite."

"Sorry, Ricky. I was just asking," apologized Bubbles. "Did you make sure Sherry was alright and safe before leaving to get your chips?"

"Don't worry, she's fine," replied Ricky. He turns the brass knob and opens the door into the office. "She's still in here safe and..." Before he could finish his sentence, Ricky gasps and his eyes widen. Bubbles pushes past him and he scans the office. Sherry was nowhere to be found, but Ricky's eyes were focused right on the desk's surface. More than a quarter of his dope plant had been stripped away. "What the fuck happened to my dope! Someone or something's stole some of my dope!" Ricky drops his shotgun and chips and darts over to the dope plant to examine it. His joint is planted between two of his fingers.

"Aren't you smoking some of that dope right now?" asked Bubbles. "You know. The joint you're holding there."

"I only took a couple of leaves before I left, " furiously replied Ricky. "Fuck! Almost half of the plant his gone."

"Not just that, Ricky," said Bubbles. "Sherry's gone too."

"What!" shouted Ricky, looking around the room. "Aww fuck! Where is she!"

"I don't know!" answered a panicking Bubbles. "Aww shit. Maybe the fucking Samsquitch was here. It probably came here and took Sherry and ate some of your dope. Aww no! It's probably after Claire now." Ricky hears a light groan that seemed to be coming from behind the desk. He and Bubbles quickly rush around the old structure of wood to find Sherry huddled up underneath it, groaning and holding her kness.

"Sherry, what happened?" asked Ricky. "Are you okay?" The little girl looks up at the two guys. Her eyes looked tiresome and she seemed a little dizzy.

"What?...Oh, hi guys." she replied.

"Sherry, what happened?" repeated Ricky. "What happened to my dope?"

"Well, I had a stomach ache that was just killing me," explained Sherry. "My mother once told me about a green herb that grew just outside the city limits. She said it could help cure certain illnesses and ease pain. I thought the plant on the desk was one of those herbs, but I'm not so sure if it was. Now everything feels a bit weird and I'm actually kind of hungry."

"Holy shit, Ricky!" shouted Bubbles. "She's fucking baked!"

"Baked?" laughed Sherry. "Ah, you're so funny." She holds up one hand and stares at it with amazement. "Wow. For some reason, my fingers are amazing."

"This is bad, Ricky," said Bubbles. "Really bad."

"Bubs, don't worry," said Ricky, trying to calm Bubbles down. "I know how to deal with stoned people."

"I'm not talking about that," continued Bubbles. "If Claire walks in here and sees all of this, she's gonna fucking flip out."

"Shit, you're right!" said Ricky. "What the fuck are we gonna do?" They both stand up and run to the center of the office in panic.

"Get rid of that joint, Ricky!" shouted Bubbles. "It looks bad!"

"Where the hell am I supposed to stash it!" asked Ricky, searching around to find a place to hide his burning joint.

"I don't know!" was Bubbles' response. He continues to panic. Finally, he sees the door that led back to the antiques rooms. "Fuck this. I'm outta here." Bubbles makes a dash for the door and he exits through. Ricky, still trying to dispose his joint in a hurry, spots the secret entrance. Immediately, he hurls it towards the opening. However, he did not expect Claire to appear around the corner and the joint ends up striking her left leg. She jumps back as the ashes burned her skin.

"Ow! What the hell are you doing!" she shouted.

"Nothing. Just a bad joint, that's all," replied Ricky.

"How's Sherry doing?" asked Claire, stepping into the office.

"Well, she's fine but she's kind of...Well, you know," spoke Ricky, who was having a difficult time trying to explain the current situation.

"What? What are you talking about?" asked Claire, wondering what Ricky was trying to say.

"Well she's...Aww fuck. How should I put..." Before Ricky could finish, Claire looks to her left and she quickly notices Sherry underneath the desk.

"Sherry!" Claire shouted in worry as she rushed over to check on the girl. "Are you alright?...Speak to me."

"Claire...You're back," responded Sherry.

"Sherry, are you sick?" asked Claire. Do you need..."

"Claire?" interrupted Sherry.

"Yes?" she replied.

"You look different," commented Sherry.

"What do you mean?" said Claire. "I haven't changed at all. I'm still the same person."

"Your nose," Sherry pointed out. "Do you have a third nostril or something?"

"No," replied Claire, touching her nose. "Why?" An odd smell reeked from Sherry's breath and she caught a strong waft of it. "Wait a minute. That smells just like...weed." She slowly stands up and observes the partly eaten dope plant. Then she looks and glares at Ricky, who was wide-eyed and had a, somewhat, guilty expression on his face. Clenching her teeth behind her lips, Claire raises her right arm and aims her index finger at him as she gradually approached him from behind the desk. Ricky slowly starts to back away.

"Listen, Claire," he said. "I can explain everything."

"Then you'd better have a real fucking good explanation cause I'm about to make your life so miserable you'll wish you had never met me!" yelled the furious young woman.

"Listen, I was just out getting some chips..."

"And then you came back here and got Sherry stoned," interrupted Claire under a heavy breath. "Is that right, Ricky?" She shoves Ricky farther back until he was right up against a wooden shelf. "Well, is it!"

"Chill the fuck out! Please!" pleaded Ricky. In response, Claire kness him hard in the groin. He yells in pain as he grasps his sensitive area and lowers himself to the floor. "Arrrgggh!...Fuck!...Uh, my fucking!...Urgggh!"

"Don't tell me to chill out!" yelled Claire. "You did this! You're the one who owns that shit you've been smoking!"

"Arrgghh!...My fucking nuts!" cursed Ricky.

"Oh quit whining about that," said Claire. "Nothing's broken." Her fury and anger begins to slowly fade away and she calms down. "Now you listen to me. I've found a way into the sewers and we're going there. If I ever see a joint or any dope on you or near Sherry, I'll be busting more than just your balls. You got that?" Ricky slowly lifts himself up, still holding his groin with one hand. He looks at Claire.

"Yes. Sure, I promise," answered Ricky. "Just don't deck me again."

"Good," said Claire. "Now get your stuff and let's go, but leave the dope here." She heads over to the desk to collect Sherry. Ricky turns his head towards the door where Bubbles left through.

"Bubs, it's safe," he said to the door. "You can come back in now." As Ricky goes to reclaim his shotgun and chips, the door slightly opens ajar. Within the dark crack, Bubbles peers in. His eyes nervously wander about, making sure it was safe enough to enter.

To Be Continued.