"No, my name is not Shadow Q. Blackheart. No, I do not wish to receive exciting offers from any outside vendors." Shadow slammed the phone down on the cradle for what must have been the tenth time in the last hour. He rubbed his temples before taking several deep breaths.
He was incredibly confused, to say the least. After waking up earlier that morning, he had quite literally appeared out of thin air in the house. He likened the experience to a Chaos Control warp, but found it odd that he hadn't come in contact with an Emerald for some time. Perhaps Eggman had something to do with it?
Before he could give it much thought, the phone began ringing off the hook, and Shadow had been taking care of that ever since. With the few moments of peace that he found, he had explored the small house and found it to be completely empty, save for a few things in the front room. Among them was a letter, indicating that he and a certain 'Luigi' were authorized to take an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris later that afternoon. He had no idea who 'Luigi' was, of course, but he wasn't one to pass up a good deal like this. He was skeptical, of course, but a quick phone call to the number on the letterhead had approved that he was indeed entitled to the trip.
He headed for the living room, planning on exploring the neighborhood and seeing exactly where in the world the good Doctor had decided to transport him to this time. Much to his surprise, he found a man in overalls and a green suit in his living room.
"You! What the hell are you doing in my house?!" he belted.
Luigi shrieked and jumped three feet in the air, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.
"Who are you!?"
"I think I should be asking the same thing!"
Shadow paused for a second. "My name is Shadow. I am the Ultimate Life Form."
"Um... my name is Luigi. I'm a... normal life form."
Luigi pulled out a card from his pocket. "This is supposed to be my house. See? 666 Elm Street. There's got to be some sort of mistake... I don't even live around here!"
Shadow gave Luigi a look of pure contempt. "Neither do I. Do you have any idea what we're doing here?"
"Nope. I have to say though, that place we were imprisoned in looked familiar... almost like-"
Shadow cut him off. "Wait, wait. WE were imprisoned? I told you, I just appeared out of nowhere!"
Luigi paused for a second, trying to remember. "Well... there was someone who looked exactly like you with a fox and a fat guy. They were following this guy in green, and..."
"Hold on a second. Was this hedgehog blue?"
Luigi thought for a second. "He might have been. I didn't get a really good look at him- it was dark, and we only had a few seconds before everything went nuts."
"Faker..." Shadow hissed under his breath. That fake hedgehog was always involved in things that usually defied the laws of nature, and this seemed to be no exception.
Luigi started to say something just as the doorbell started to ring.
"It's been like this for nearly an hour. I keep getting phone call after phone call... on this cheap, pathetic phone. I mean seriously, why did I have to dream that I'm in 1979?"
The doorbell continued to ring.
Muttering to himself, Shadow flung open the door and came face-to-face with an all too cheery delivery man, holding a bag of something labeled "Llama Treats".
"Hi! Are you Mr. Blackheart of 668 Elm Street?"
Shadow gritted his teeth and resisted the temptation to tear off the delivery man's head right there on the spot. He managed to convince himself that tearing off a head would leave too much blood.
"No..." he hissed.
The delivery man didn't seem to hear him. "Here's your order of Llamex (TM) Brand High-Fiber Llama Treats!" The idiotic man actually felt the need to say the "TM" after the brand name.
"I did not order any llama treats." Shadow managed to hiss.
"I'm authorized to accept either US Excess or Beezer credit cards." the delivery man said, unhelpfully.
Shadow closed his eyes as he walked to the east, away from the delivery man. He picked up the passport off of the side table before returning, just in time to see Luigi accepting the bag of llama treats from the delivery man after having his credit card handed back to him.
"You paid for that? What's wrong with you?"
"Well, he came a long way out of his normal schedule to deliver these treats. I think it would be nice to help him out."
"You do know that you just fell for the oldest sob story in the book? Why would you even want a bag of llama treats? What the hell am I even going to do with fifty pounds of llama treats?"
"Um... sell them to someone that has a llama?"
Shadow slapped his forehead. "Look, just stay out of my way."
Shadow threw open the front door and stalked out. "What a dump... I mean, it's seriously like I got sent back to 1979 suburbia." He walked over to the mailbox. "There must be something seriously wrong with the people in this city." he mused as he pulled out a leaflet addressed to 665 Elm Street.
He looked up to see Luigi walking out of the house, holding a letter. "Hey! This letter says that we're both going to Paris this afternoon! And we each get seventy-five dollars in spending money!"
Shadow's nostrils flared. "How did you find that?" he thundered.
"It was in the cabinet over the sink. There's nothing else there, so it wasn't too hard to find. When will we be off?"
"There is no we! There will never be a we! If it weren't for the last scrap of self-control that you seem so desperate on removing, there wouldn't even be a you!"
Luigi scratched his head. "I don't exactly understand what's going on here..."
"Neither do I." said Shadow, walking down the street.
Luigi padded along beside him. "Hey, I think I deserve a vacation, too! I just saved the world the other day!"
Shadow stared at him in curiosity. He prided himself on knowing when people were telling the truth, and so far as he could tell, Luigi wasn't lying.
"Seriously? You saved the world? What did you do, annoy the superweapon to death?"
"For your information, I prevented our dimension from collapsing!"
Surprisingly, Shadow believed this. It seemed like a strange thing to lie about, so either Luigi was telling the truth or was high on something. He was inclined to believe the former, having dealt with (meaning neck-snapped) several violent druggies before.
"Look, if you seem so intent on following me, at least put yourself to good use. I'm missing all of the mail from my mailbox, so you need to go around and find it. There's a seventy-five dollar check somewhere in there, along with the invoice I need to get my ticket."
He walked off to the east, leaving Luigi in the middle of the street. "If I want to go to Paris, then I guess I'd better get moving." he said to himself.
Meanwhile, Shadow had made his way around the back of one of the houses. Looking in through the screen door, he could see a pile of mail resting on the table. Not feeling guilty in the slightest, he slid open the screen door and walked inside.
In a flurry of feathers, a bright orange macaw with one wing missing flapped down from the ceiling and stared directly at him. Shadow froze.
"Death to the Communist dogs!" it squawked.
Shadow breathed a sigh of relief. He reached out to take the mail, but a sudden movement from the macaw drove him back. "Nuke the Soviets! Nuke the Soviets!"
Rolling his eyes, Shadow walked through the hall to the north.
He emerged in a small room. The walls were covered with trophies, and a painting of Mikhail S. Gorbachev hung above a fireplace.
Unfortunately, an elderly lady was standing in the hallway. She was holding an elephant gun.
"Robbers!" she shrieked, raising the gun.
"Chaos Control!" Shadow bellowed, ducking out of the room just before the bullet was able to embed itself into his skull.
He stopped for a split second to pick up the mail underneath the now-stationary macaw's perch before jumping out the screen door just as time resumed its forward flight.
He heard the echo from the gunfire and decided to get out of her yard, lest the lady come after him. Not that he was scared of her, of course. It was just that he couldn't do anything to stop her that wasn't lethal at the moment. He didn't have a Chaos Emerald, so most of his Chaos powers were severely diminished. He only had three shots left in his 9mm handgun, and had lost his taser several weeks prior.
He slowed down in the street to examine the piece of mail that he had risked his life for. It turned out to be a flyer that declared that he "Could be the lucky lucky winner of $1,000,000.00!" and that all he had to do was send in his credit card information and twenty dollars, in cash, to get a notification to let him know how to register to see if he might be eligible.
He threw the flyer down in disgust, taking a moment to meditate and calm himself down. He opened his eyes to see Luigi standing in the middle of the street, reading a magazine.
"Hey! I found some mail, but it wasn't a check. I ended up trading that leaflet in the mailbox for a coupon booklet that was worthless. It turns out that I didn't waste money on those llama treats, after all! I used them to get this magazine." he said, gesturing to what he was reading.
"Where are the llama treats?" Shadow said sarcastically.
"Um... probably inside the llama, by now."
Shadow rolled his eyes.
"This magazine is fascinating! It talks all about the government conspiracies, and how they might be watching you."
Shadow refused to admit that he was interested. He didn't consider himself to be paranoid, only extremely cautious, but he was still curious as to what information he could be missing.
"There's only one more house on this block. That has to be where my check got sent to."
He stalked down to the end of the street, where a heavily fortified house covered in barbed wire stood. There were several gun turrets in the yard, and the entire place was surrounded by a thick metal fence and a deep moat.
The radio on the gate crackled to life. A gruff voice said, "Unfortunately, there's a radio connected to my brain."
Shadow looked amused at this development. "It's obviously the government controlling us from within."
"Surely you can do better than that."
Shadow walked off to the farmhouse to muse over this development. "It's apparently some kind of counter-code phrase..."
A tall man, dressed in a gray trenchcoat covered with weapons, sauntered in, looking uncannily like a heavily armed version of Woody Allen. He looked at Shadow expectantly. "Ahem." he said.
"Unfortunately, there's a radio connected to my brain."
The man looked him straight in the eye. "Actually, it's the BBC controlling us from London."
Slowly, Shadow nodded. "Excellent. We'll be in touch."
He walked out of the farmhouse to the east, and rung the bell on the gate.
The radio crackled to life again. "Unfortunately, there's a radio connected to my brain."
"Actually, it's the BBC controlling us from London."
There was a long pause, followed by the sound of all of the house's defenses disarming. The gates swung open.
"Are you sure about this? We don't know if he'll try to kill us..." Luigi said, gesturing to the gun encampments and the barbed wire.
"Nonsense. Is there any other way to get in? You do want that trip to Paris, don't you?" he said as he sauntered through the door, realizing too late that he had just invited Luigi along with him.
"Um... that might be a problem." He pointed to the twitchy, utterly paranoid owner of the house, who was currently leveling a SMG at them.
The man's eyes nervously twitched back and forth between Shadow, Luigi, and the other man.
"All right. One of you is an imposter. It's probably you, Mr. Blackheart, and your dichromatic friend over there, but to be sure, I'm going to grill...herm... ask you a few questions, first."
"Sounds reasonable enough." Shadow was still pondering over how many heavily armed Woody Allens were in this neighborhood.
"I knew you'd see it that way. Now. How are the dentists of America conspiring to destroy the minds of our children?"
"By what percentage do students who exchange digital watches with multiple partners increase their chances of contracting bubonic plague?"
"Uh...300?" Luigi guessed.
"How are the dentists of America conspiring to destroy the minds of our children?"
Shadow rolled his eyes. "Novocain. Simple."
"What chemical is the international health conspiracy using to destroy our valuable body fat?"
"Aspartame. It also gives you cancer." Shadow warned.
"What secret FBI surveillance method is masquerading under the guise of a public service?"
Luigi paled. He had no idea how Shadow was staying so calm. Either he was getting extremely lucky with his responses, or he really was paranoid enough to believe all of this. He struggled to remember what he had read in the 'paranoia' magazine. "I have no... traffic helicopters!" he blurted, figuring that some response was better than nothing.
"You passed the test. That means either one of you could be the impostor." The paranoid man pressed a button on the wall, causing Shadow, Luigi, and the stranger to fall into a cell in the basement. A set of sturdy-looking bars barred the way out of the cell.
Several moments of awkward silence passed. The three occupants of the cell looked at each other suspiciously.
"We need to get out of here!" Luigi remarked.
"I am immortal." Shadow stated plainly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I can wait while this cell rots around me. You two, unfortunately, cannot."
Luigi had an idea. "You do know that your flight for Paris leaves at 4 PM, don't you? And right now..." he said, pointing to his digital wristwatch, "It's 1:59 PM."
"To hell with the trip. If I'm not going, that means that you can't tag along either."
Luigi grabbed on the bars, trying to dislodge them. "Do you have a file or anything?"
The weirdo spoke up. "That's a great idea! Maybe this will help." He pulled out a very large Swiss army knife, handing it to Luigi.
"I'd hate to be on the receiving end of this..." Luigi muttered, fiddling with the various blades.
"Here, there's a miniature buzz saw in there." The weirdo pushed a button, and the knife ejected the buzz saw. It was about three inches long and attached to a long cord.
"That's pretty convenient! Where can I get one of those?" he asked the weirdo.
The weirdo grinned, revealing his perfectly white teeth. "All custom-made. Diamond-tipped. Five-year guarantee. It costs $2.49."
"That cheap?"
"It pays to help a fellow member out."
Luigi checked his pockets. "I'm a bit strapped for cash..."
The weirdo's smile disappeared. "No money, no diamond-tipped portable buzz saw." he whined.
Shadow rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just get us out of here if you're going to."
"Turn that crank. It should generate enough power to cut through the bars."
Several minutes later, Luigi was panting heavily, but the cell door stood open.
"I have to admit I'm impressed. If it weren't for that, you'd have been stuck in there the rest of my life." Shadow mused.
"I'm getting outta here!" the weirdo exclaimed, bolting up the stairs.
Distantly, Shadow heard a shout of alarm. He and Luigi climbed the stairs to see the paranoid man chasing the stranger, brandishing a submachine gun.
Entirely nonplussed, Shadow began to look through the mail on the paranoid man's table.
"What about him? Are you just going to let him go?"
"So? What about him? That guy's obviously his contact; he's not going to kill him." Shadow picked up an envelope on the table. "Finally!"
Shadow walked out the gate, across the moat.
"All I need to do is cash this check, and then I'm off!" he said, feeling more excited than he had in a while.
"I thought you didn't want to take that trip."
Shadow scoffed. "No, I didn't want to get involved. There's a difference, you know."
"Hey, before we set out, can we stop for lunch?"
"Fine. Make it quick. I don't want to be late."
The restaurant they were in was supposed to be a fast-food restaurant, but neither Shadow nor Luigi could tell the difference. There were no places to sit, and the general atmosphere seemed filthy.
A harried-looking waitress walked up next to Shadow. "May I take your order now, sir?"
"Yes, I'd-"
"All right, sir, how do you want your burger done? Raw? Rare? Medium? Well-done?"
"Raw? Who gets their burger ra-?"
"Bar-b-que sauce on it?"
"Yes, but-"
"Melted cheese?"
"Okay."
"Swiss, American, or Cheddar?"
"Swiss will be fine."
"Do you want bacon?"
"Sure."
"Mushrooms?"
"Okay."
"You have a choice of fries, baked potato, or a salad with that. What will it be?"
"I'll take the salad."
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're all out of salad."
Shadow could feel his blood pressure begin to rise. "Then I'll have the potato."
"Small or large potato?"
"Large."
"With butter?"
"Of course."
"Sour cream?"
"Fine."
"Parsley? Chives?"
"Parsley will be fine."
"Would you care for a drink? We have beer, wine, soda, or juice."
"No."
"Is there any kind of drink you don't want to have? We have beer, wine, soda, or juice."
Shadow took a deep breath. "Give me a wine. A big glass."
"Red or white?"
"Red."
"Dry or sweet?"
"Sweet."
"French, German, or Californian?"
"French! It doesn't matter!"
"How about a glass of water on the side?"
"Fine!"
"Regular, distilled, or mineral?"
"REGULAR!"
"Dry, dehydrated, or wet?"
"Dehydrated water? Is that a joke? Are you SERIOUS?!"
"Please, sir, you're making a scene. Now, let me see if I have this right. You want a raw burger with bar-b-que sauce, Swiss cheese, mushrooms, and bacon, with a large baked potato with butter, sour cream, and parsley, and a glass of red, white, sweet, French wine. And a glass of regular dehydrated water on the side. Is that right?"
"No, I didn't order a raw burger. I want it rare."
"I'm sorry; sir, but I can't just change it. The computer won't like that, so I'll have to do it on a different form, and I'll just have to take your order again." The waitress certainly didn't seem sorry. Shadow was almost sure that he could see the corners of her mouth turn up in a smirk.
"Now, sir, how would you like your burger? Raw? Rare? Medium? Well-done?"
"Do you rehearse these lines? I said I wanted it rare!"
"Bar-b-que sauce on that?"
Shadow hissed his disapproval at the waitress. "Fine."
"Melted cheese?"
"I already told you this! Just look at my last order form!"
"Please don't confuse me, sir. We have a very specific way of doing things. Now, Swiss, American, or Cheddar?"
"Swiss!"
"Do you want bacon?"
"Yes." Shadow hissed.
"Mushrooms?"
"Yes!"
"You have a choice of fries, baked potato, or a salad with that. What will it be?"
"A large potato with butter and sour cream!"
"One thing at a time, sir. Now, do you want a large or small potato?" The waitress was openly grinning now.
"Large."
"With butter?"
"Yes."
"Sour cream?"
"YES!"
"How about a drink? We have beer, wine, soda, or juice."
"I don't want a drink! Just get me the damn burger!"
"Is there any kind of drink you don't want to have? We have beer, wine, soda, or juice."
Shadow's left eye began to twitch. "Wine." he said, letting no emotion creep into his voice at all.
"Red or white?"
"Red."
"Dry or sweet?"
"Sweet."
"French, German, or Californian?"
"French."
"How about a glass of water on the side?"
"Yes."
"Regular, distilled, or mineral?"
"Regular."
"Dry, dehydrated, or wet?"
"Wet."
"Now, let me see if I have this right. You want a rare burger with bar-b-que sauce, Swiss cheese, mushrooms, and bacon, with a large baked potato with butter, sour cream, and parsley, and a glass of red, sweet, French wine. And a glass of regular wet water on the side. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"What about you, sir?" she asked, turning to Luigi.
"I'll have what he's having."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I am unable to do that. I'll have to take your order step by step."
Shadow closed his eyes. Just breathe he told himself. You'll get a quick meal, and then it's off to two weeks' vacation in Paris. By the time he had his blood pressure down to a safe level, Luigi had already made his order.
"That'll just be a few minutes." The waitress ran off. Shadow was sure that he could hear someone laughing in the kitchen.
The waitress raced back. "I'm sorry, sirs, but our computer just crashed, and we lost your orders. I'm on break right now, so you'll have to wait for someone else to come over." The waitress departed, smirking.
A giant, simian-looking waiter with huge muscles lumbered over to the table. He looked like the kind of person that kicked whole beaches in people's faces if they ever insulted his intelligence, which seemed to be remarkably easy to do. His giant, Neanderthal-shaped forehead seemed to shadow his beady little eyes, further adding to his simian appearance.
"May I take your order now, sir?"
"Fine."
"All right, sir, how do you want your burger done? Raw? Rare? Medium? Well-done?"
"Do you and that nutcase waitress rehearse together? Rare. Write it down. R-A-R-E."
"Bar-b-que sauce on it?"
"Yes."
"Melted cheese?"
"Yes."
"Swiss, American, or Cheddar?"
"Swiss."
"Do you want bacon?"
"Yes."
"Mushrooms?"
"Yes."
"You have a choice of fries, baked potato, or a salad with that. What will it be?"
"Potato." Shadow said, stressing the word.
"Small or large potato?"
"Large."
"With butter?"
"Yes."
"Sour cream?"
"Yes."
"Parsley? Chives?"
"Yes to both."
"Would you care for a drink?"
"Yes."
"What kind of drink? We have beer, wine, soda, or juice."
Shadow took a deep breath. "Wine."
"Red or white?"
"Red."
"Dry or sweet?"
"Sweet."
"French, German, or Californian?"
"French."
"How about a glass of water on the side?"
"Fine."
"Regular, distilled, or mineral?"
"Regular."
"Wet, dry, or dehydrated."
"Wet."
Mentally patting himself on the back for getting through yet another complicated ordeal without blowing a fuse. Shadow leaned against the wall as he waited for Luigi to finish his order.
"Very well. That'll be a few minutes."
Exactly fifteen minutes later, the waiter returned and placed two burgers in front of Shadow. They had nothing on them, no sides, and no drinks. They were both cold to the touch.
The last vestiges of Shadow's self-control snapped. He grabbed the burger, marched right into the kitchen, and threw it in the cook's face. Screaming various profanities that had never disgraced the neighborhood before, Shadow proceeded to snap the man's neck before incinerating him and everyone else in the vicinity with a Chaos Spear, after which he stalked out of the restaurant and had an enjoyable flight to Paris.
"That will be $13.50, sir."
Shadow snapped out of his fantasy and somehow resisted the temptation to Chaos Blast the waiter and the restaurant into oblivion. Without a word, he walked over to the table, grabbed the burger, and stalked out the back door.
He found himself in the alley next to the old lady's house. He also saw the waitress talking to a man in blue overalls, holding a green walkie-talkie.
"It's him!" she hissed, before running out into the street.
"Get back here!" he yelled, running after her.
He took only three steps before he slipped on the flyer that was still in the mud and landed face first on the ground.
"I hate my life..." he muttered as he got up, brushing mud off of himself.
He turned around to see Luigi walking out of the back door, chewing on his burger. "I've had better burgers in Rogueport..."
"You just had to stop for lunch, didn't you?"
"Hey! You wanted to stop, too!"
"Forget about it. Once I cash this check, I'm home free."
Shadow stalked past the restaurant, pausing briefly to give the finger to the waiter in the doorway.
He made his way to the bank at the northmost end of the street, a drab little building doing its best to look like a travel agency. He pushed open the door and walked through, where an automated voice informed him that the bank would be closed in 25 minutes.
He ignored this fact, figuring that he would be able to cash the check in a few minutes. After examining the windows for a few seconds, he walked up to the one labeled CHECK CASHING ONLY.
A bored teller sat in the window, chewing her gum as she looked out at the world, completely oblivious to Shadow's presence.
"Excuse me? I'd like to cash a check."
She gazed at him with a bemused expression. "All right, sir. I need to see some ID."
He noticed with displeasure that the name in his passport was listed as "Shadow Q. Blackheart", but he handed it over nonetheless.
"All right, Mr. Blackheart. I need to see the check."
He handed over the check he had procured from the paranoid man's house. At last, something was working perfectly today, with no screw-ups in the bureaucratic system!
He immediately regretted thinking positively, and wondered if one could jinx oneself simply by thinking it.
Almost as in response to his thoughts, the teller's face turned into a mask of fury. "Sir, this is a negative check, and we are out of negative money right now. You really should pay attention to that! Fill out this form and we'll be sure to send you a notice when we don't get some negative money in. Have a great day!" she finished perkily.
A vein in Shadow's forehead began to throb. He considered throwing the paper back at her, but decided against it.
Luigi, who had been watching this spectacle from the side, suddenly chipped in. "I have an idea!" he whispered confidentially.
"All right, what is it?"
"See, the people in this bank are all morons, right?"
This was about the only thing Luigi had said so far that Shadow could indisputably agree with. "What do you think?"
"So, you just need to think like one of them! Do something backwards, like withdraw a negative amount of money from the account with that check!"
What the hell. Things couldn't get any worse, right? "I'm concerned since that is starting to make sense to me in a demented kind of way."
Luigi was used to dealing with idiots. Most merchants in Toad Town could barely make change, which was why he preferred to do his shopping in Darklands. Bowser actually had a nice line of goods going.
Shadow stalked over to the window labeled WITHDRAWALS ONLY.
"Do you want to make a withdrawal, sir?"
"No, of course not! Why else would I be over here at the window labeled WITHDRAWALS ONLY?" he hissed.
"Just answer yes or no!"
Shadow felt his blood pressure spike way above 190. This would have been fatal to most humans, but he was called the ultimate life form for a reason. "Yes, I would like to make a withdrawal."
"Here is a withdrawal slip." She handed him one.
LAST NAME:
FIRST NAME: SHADOW
MIDDLE INITIAL:
AMOUNT TO WITHDRAW: $150
FOR ILLEGAL ACTIVITY? (Y/N): Y
IF SO, WHICH ONE?: TO F
Shadow's pen ran out of ink at this point, like most bank pens usually do. Slightly displeased at not being able to spew profanity at the teller who was giving him a hard time, he handed the slip over nonetheless.
"May I see some ID, sir?"
Once again, he handed over his passport. The actions were becoming mechanical to him.
"I'm sorry, sir, but your passport does not match the information on this slip. I am unable to approve this transaction. This window is now CLOSED!" she snarled, suddenly becoming malevolent on the last word as she slammed the window closed.
Shadow felt like screaming, but instead walked down the bank to find another withdrawal window. Any more stress and he was liable to have an aneurysm, making it an inconvenient few days of rest while his brain regenerated over the damaged tissue.
"Let me take care of this." Luigi interjected. Normally, Shadow would have objected, but he was too angry at the bank to care right now.
"Hello, sir. Would you like to make a withdrawal?"
"Yes." Luigi stated, not unkindly.
"Here is a withdrawal slip."
LAST NAME: BLACKHEART
FIRST NAME: SHADOW
MIDDLE INITIAL: Q
AMOUNT TO WITHDRAW: $150
FOR ILLEGAL ACTIVITY? (Y/N): N
IF SO, WHICH ONE?:
Filling out the slip with the 'correct' information from Shadow's passport, he handed it back to the teller. He sincerely doubted that Shadow had the surname "Blackheart", but the bank seemed to accept it before.
For once, the teller's face brightened. "The negative of -$150 is $150, so it's like you're not negatively depositing money. It all makes perfect sense. Your account now has $160 in it. Have a lovely day."
Shadow stared at this, mouth agape. "I... can't believe that actually worked."
"What did I tell you? Counterintuitive logic!"
Shadow stalked down the bank floor again, sure that he had seen one of the tellers switch the NEXT WINDOW PLEASE sign with the DEPOSITS ONLY sign.
He walked up to the window labeled DEPOSITS ONLY. "Hello. I would like to make a..."
Without a word, two uniformed security guards whisked him out of the bank. A recording informed him that the bank was now closed for twelve minutes.
"What the hell kind of bank closes at 3:30 in the afternoon? What kind of bank uses negative money? I could blast you all to oblivion and no one will even care!"
Shadow was just a millimeter away from putting his fist through the glass when the door swung open automatically.
"Are you serious? What's the point of staying closed for five minutes?!"
Six minutes and a near aortic aneurysm later, Shadow walked out of the bank a hundred and fifty dollars richer. He was not used to dealing with problems in a civilized manner. He lived alone, in an isolated mansion whenever he could help it, taking money from a bank account thoughtfully provided to him by Professor Gerald after his creation sometime onboard the ARK in the 1950s. He mostly did bounty hunting or mercenary work for a living, although he would draw the line at anything amoral. GUN did pay extremely well, after all. He had wondered on many occasions just where they were able to procure that amount of funding.
He was used to solving his problems by either a judo chop to the head or a taser to the neck. Having to deal with normal, everyday people was no big deal, but dealing with imbeciles was another thing entirely.
While he was contemplating this, he noticed that Luigi had led them into a travel agency (which was doing its best to look like a bank) and was currently chatting with the clerk about their letter.
Shadow immediately butted into this conversation. "Look, I've had a hard day. Just give me my ticket and let's be done with it."
"I'm sorry, sir, but both of you need to be present."
"Excuse me?"
"You see, it's a sponsored trip, so both of you need to go in order to make the trip successfully. Otherwise, I am unable to give you the tickets."
Shadow's eye began to twitch again. Always a precursor to stress, it was. "You know what? Fine. I'm too tired to care, and we only have an hour to get to the airport!"
"Very well, sir. Here are your tickets."
Shadow paused, expecting a loophole. "That's it? No negative money? No having to re-order them or wade through order forms?"
The clerk gave him a curious look. "No, that's it, sir!"
He ran out of the agency before any loopholes could present themselves. This left only the problem of actually getting to the airport.
He ran to his 'house', in desperate search of a phone book. Luigi followed close behind, browsing the 'address book' that apparently belonged to Shadow.
As Shadow began to frantically thumb through the Yellow Pages, Luigi picked up the phone and dialed a number scrawled on the address book.
"Yeah? Ya need a taxi?" a gruff voice asked.
"Yes!" Luigi stated, much to Shadow's displeasure.
"Where ya goin?"
"To the airport."
"Good. I like the airport. Address?"
"666 Elm Street."
"Ok. See you in a few." There was a click as the line went dead.
"What the hell was that for? We don't need a taxi!" Shadow protested.
"Well, I don't see a car anywhere, do you? What do you intend to do, run there?"
"Yes, if I knew where it was!"
The argument was interrupted by a loud honk from outside. They both walked out to see their ride of choice. Its make and model were unidentifiable, and the word "TAXXI" was sloppily printed across one side. Not thinking of any better options, Shadow and Luigi padded out the door and climbed into the taxi.
The inside wasn't much better. The floor was covered with used take-out containers, boxes full of shotgun shells, and several empty cans of soup. A steaming hot rack of ribs rested between the driver's seat and passenger's seat. The passenger's dashboard was covered with an enormous control panel, showing hundreds of buttons and blinking lights. Shadow dimly suspected that most of them were just there for show, but he had no way of knowing for sure.
There was what appeared to be a retro-futuristic pistol wedged between the seats, which Shadow presumed to be non-functional. Old pipes, bolts, and other pieces of scrap metal were haphazardly strewn about the floor, and a stack of bills was dangling from the mirror as if it were a pair of fuzzy dice.
A picture of a crazed-looking man with a crew cut rested on the dashboard, showing him grinning dementedly into the camera. The name "J. Doe" was printed next to it.
"Get in, maggots! War transport awaits!"
Shadow would have liked nothing more than to run as far away from the crazed lunatic as he could, but he took a seat nonetheless. After all, he couldn't get on the plane without Luigi. He silently cursed the bureaucratic system once again.
"Just how far away is the airport?" Luigi asked.
Doe cackled. "It's a hundred and ten miles away, but I'll get you there real quick." He took off like a shot, going from zero to seventy in nearly five seconds.
"Let me tell you about the time I landed on the beach of Normandy in '48. You see, it was me and General Patton, along with a few of the boys, and..."
"What is he talking about?" Luigi whispered.
"You just had to get the only taxi with a maniac, didn't you?" Shadow whispered back.
"Hey! It wasn't my choice!" he insisted.
"If I didn't have to bring you along, I'd just have come alone!"
-and when we landed, the beach was swarming with Nazis, Hippies and crypto-communist cyborgs! They were a nasty bunch, I tell you. They didn't even make delicious beer like the Germans did. So, I whipped out my trusty shovel as ol' Mike pulled out a few grenades-"
"Are you even listening to him?"
"No!" Shadow whispered back. "If he served in '49, he'd be older than me!"
"That isn't my point! He shouldn't be telling war stories right now!"
"-and then I beat the crap out of every single one!" the driver shouted, taking his hands off of the wheel to grind two pop cans together, as if for emphasis.
"Watch out!" Luigi shouted, as the driver just barely managed to swerve out of the way on an oncoming truck.
"Could you do me a favor and not tell any more war stories?" Luigi asked, putting as much fake kindness into his voice as he could.
"Sure. I'll turn on the radio." The man fiddled with the dial for a few seconds. "Radio's on the fritz. Oh, well. I'll take care of that. Sing along if you know the words, men!"
"Wha-?"
"JINGLE BELLS, BATMAN SMELLS, HITLER LAID AN EGG-" the taxi man belted out at the top of his lungs.
Luigi screamed as Mr. Doe weaved the taxi in between cars at nearly ninety miles per hour. Several collisions were neatly averted, and drivers from all around the road honked their horns at them.
"STALIN THINKS THAT HIROHITO STINKS-" the insane song continued.
All three of the occupants of the taxi screamed as a trailer tipped over and nearly flattened the car. The taxi shot underneath it just before it crashed into the ground.
Doe stopped his song to open the window and scream. "THIS IS MY ROAD, MAGGOTS! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME ON MY ROAD!" He swerved to the side and crossed into the oncoming traffic.
"Stop!" Luigi begged.
"No can do, private! This is a WAR ZONE, and THOSE ARE OUR ENEMIES!" He floored the accelerator as the car launched forward at one hundred and twenty miles per hour.
The speed was no big deal to Shadow, of course. He was used to moving far, far faster, but it was one thing to run along a deserted road or countryside, and another entirely to speed down a crowded highway.
"YANKEE DOODLE CAME TO EARTH, ON A PAIR OF JET SKIS-" Doe began singing again.
"This is insane! You're going to get us all killed!" Shadow shouted over his singing.
"CRASHED INTO MOUNT RUSHMORE, AND NOW HE'S IN THE GRAVEYARD! Huh, what did you say, maggot?"
"Slow down!"
"Negative! It's time to act like a MAN, Private Twinkletoes!" With that, he pushed the taxi to its maximum speed of one hundred and eighty miles per hour. Shadow wondered how many illegal modifications it had gone under.
"Where are we going again?" Doe asked, turning around to face them.
Luigi shrieked again, pointing to a small group of oncoming motorcycles.
Doe let out another peal of insane laughter as he weaved through the cyclists, miraculously not harming one of them. "GET A REAL CAR, HIPPIES!" he bellowed out the window.
Unpredictably, sirens began to sound behind them. The river turned around with a look of utter horror in his eyes. "Those fuzzfoots are after a crook! I will speed up to get out of their way!" he declared, proving that the taxi's top speed was in fact one hundred and ninety miles per hour.
Sliding one of his favorite tapes in the cassette player, he slid his hat down over his eyes and smirked as his favorite song began to play.
"Daa-da-da-da-DAA-da, da-da-da-DAA-da, da-da-da-DAAA-da, da-da-da-daaaaaaa!" Doe gleefully belted out, attempting to sing the refrain to the Ride of the Valkyries along with the music.
Of course, the sirens continued to chase them. This made little sense to Doe's demented mind, unless... "They're not cops! They're ALIENS! Probably Communist Neo-Nazi Robot Hippies, too! Strap yourselves in, men! This is gonna get rough!" He swerved back into the proper lane once again, just narrowly missing a collision with a SUV. Shadow thought he could hear the capitalization on the nouns applying to the hippies, if that were at all possible.
"HAHAHAHA! COME AND GET ME, MAGGOTS!" As if in response, the police increased the speed of their pursuit.
Doe was prepared for this. Thinking remarkably quickly, he ducked inside a tunnel. Hippies couldn't see in the dark, right?
He was once again disappointed to hear sirens behind them. "YOU SISSIFIED MAGGOT SCUM HAVE JUST SIGNED YOUR DEATH WARRANTS!" he bleated, riding up on the wall to avoid a collision with an oncoming gasoline tanker. The truck driver furiously pumped his horn and attempted to turn away, but forgot about momentum and how it would apply to his cargo.
The tank snapped off of its rigging and crashed onto the ground just as the driver exited the tunnel. Two police cars crashed into the tank, immediately igniting its contents and forcing a fireball through the tunnel.
Doe shout out of the opposite end just a second before a fireball erupted behind them. "YOU JUST GOT DOMINATED, NAZI SCUM!" he bellowed.
Much to his disappointment, three police cars were still on his tail.
"DIRECT INTERVENTION IS NECESSARY!" he screamed. "TAKE THE WHEEL, MAGGOT!" he shouted at Luigi.
He punched a button, forcing the sunroof open. He grabbed a sawed-off shotgun (whom he called Anderson) from the passenger seat before standing up through the hole in the ceiling.
Luigi yelped and slid into the front seat, studying the controls curiously. Sure, he knew how to drive a go-kart, but that was very different from controlling a custom-made taxi speeding down the highway at nearly 200 miles per hour, wasn't it?
"What's the problem?" Shadow shouted over the wind.
"I don't know how to drive!" Luigi shouted back.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS? What do you do, walk everywhere?"
"As a matter of fact, I do! Peach doesn't even have any roads put in!"
"Who the hell is Peach and why are you bringing this up?" Shadow yelled just as Luigi nearly smacked into a minivan.
Rain pelted the taxi, further worsening the driving conditions. Wind whipped around the upright Doe, who was currently taking a bead on the police car closest to him. He might have been crazy, but he wasn't stupid. He hadn't spent nine years killing hippies, Nazis, and commies without picking up a few tricks.
He got off three shots before the police returned fire. Shrieking, he dove into the passenger seat as the policemen's pullets impacted harmlessly against the bulletproof rear windshield.
As luck would have it, one of his own bullets had pierced a weak spot in the grille of the closest police car. Its trajectory carried it through a fuel line and lodged it deep into piston chamber #4 of the engine, exploiting a critical structural failure that would cost some factory workers their jobs, if anyone cared.
Fuel sprayed out of the severed line and caught fire on the immensely hot engine block, burning for a grand total of ten seconds before exploding. Granted, it wasn't like the big flashy explosions in the movies, and there weren't any tiny bits of blown up hippie raining down on him, but Doe still thought it was impressive.
"BOO-YAH!" he crowed, standing up once again to 'fist pump' the air. He raised the shotgun once more, and...
Click.
He stared down in disbelief at the gun in his hands. Out of ammo! How could this happen?!
"NOOOOOO! ANDERSON! DON'T DIE ON ME, KID! MEDIC!" he bellowed, thrusting the gun at Luigi.
He glared at the two remaining police cars with hate in his eyes. "I WILL DIRECT THIS PERSONALLY!" he screamed, beating on his chest as if he were Tarzan. He whipped out a gore-splattered entrenching shovel and started to climb out the sunroof.
"PULL NEXT TO THE COPPERS, MAGGOT!" he screamed through the sunroof.
"WHAT?" Luigi yelled back, unable to hear him over the wind. He took his foot off the gas to stand up.
Shadow shrieked (a very manly shriek, he noted to himself) and dove for the controls, but not before the taxi had decelerated so that the police car was able to pull up next to them. Unfortunately, his short stature made it hard for him to see over the dashboard.
"Hit the horn!" Shadow hissed, gesturing to the control panel seemingly fused to the passenger dashboard.
Uncertainly, Luigi pushed the big red button in the middle. A deafeningly loud bass blast of music issued from the speakers, playing a soul-searing funeral dirge that drowned out all other sounds. It was, of course, the infamous refrain to Chopin's funeral march. Unexpectedly, most of the cars ahead of them immediately swerved to the side of the road.
"PULL OVER!" the cop belted on his bullhorn, partially deafened by the blast of sound.
With a war cry, Doe jumped out of the sunroof and landed on the windshield of the police car. The sheer audacity of this action caused the cop to scream, swerving his car wildly to get the man off. This was definitely something they hadn't covered in training.
With a demented grin on his face, Doe reached under the hood and pulled the latch. The hood flipped up, further obstructing the driver's vision.
With agility surprising for one like himself, Doe flipped underneath the rising hood and landed delicately on the front bumper, looking down on the engine block.
With a few whacks of the shovel's sharpened edges, the hood completely detached from the car, flipped over the roof, and, in an eight million to one chance, struck the windshield of the remaining police car, putting it and the driver permanently out of commission.
The last remaining cop screamed death threats at the demented man sitting on his engine, merrily hacking away at crucial bits of wires and hoses with that selfsame shovel.
"Ooo, THESE look important!" Doe yelled, ripping out a cable from the battery.
The battery which was now leaking battery fluid, and soaked in gasoline.
The policeman's eyes went wide.
Once again demonstrating remarkable athletic prowess, he leaped off of the engine of the doomed police car and jumped through the open window of the taxi, landing straight in Luigi's lap just as the engine burst into flames behind him.
Without missing a beat, he stuck his head out of the sunroof and grinned. "AH HA HA HA HA HA! GET A JOB NEXT TIME, LOUSY HIPPIES!"
Doe was positively grinning as he reclaimed the driver's seat. Not only did he just do the world a favor by ridding it of a few dozen hippies, but he had a few men who knew what they were doing!
"You deserve a medal, soldier!" he said to Luigi. "But, seeing as how I'm all outta medals at the moment, I'll just shake your hand!" He once again took his hands off of the wheel to vigorously shake Luigi's hand, completely disregarding the other people on the road.
Now with the immediate threat of arrest gone, Doe settled back down to what must have been considered leisurely: one hundred miles per hour.
Shadow's breathing began to return to normal. Doe might have been completely insane, but he had proven himself to be a competent driver a hundred times over.
"Hang on a sec, troops! I gotta make a call."
Not even bothering to pay attention to the road, he picked up the car phone in between the seats and punched in a number.
"Hello? Yeah, it's me. Listen, I got a problem. Some mud-sucking candy-brained pencil-pushing cops are trying to detain me, so..."
He was cut off by a wild burst of squawking from the receiver. "Yeah, so what? What the hell d'ya mean, it's gonna cost me half of this week's pay? Well, you don't pay me anyway, not since- whatever." he snarled, slamming the receiver down.
"Who was that?" Luigi asked, curiously.
"Just my boss. She's got connections."
Unbeknownst to Doe, the cops that he had just dispatched were a splinter faction of the police force mired in corruption. Every one of them had just come from brutally slaughtering sixteen drug dealers and their thirty-five hostages, and in fact were about to be investigated that night. They would have started a standoff in the police station, causing a fire and taking multiple civilian lives, an action which would have cost the city millions in reparations and repair fees. Fortunately, Doe had averted this tragedy before it even started.
"How does the head of a taxi-driving company have connections?" Shadow asked, incredulous.
Doe lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. "You see, this isn't my real job. It's actually a moonlighting job that I do to make some cash on the side. Actually, I do it during the day, so would it be a daylighting job?" he wondered aloud. "Actually, this is my undercover disguise. I need to learn more about THEM and where THEY'LL be next!" he said, staring at something underneath the passenger seat.
Luigi tried to press him further on the subject, but Doe's lips were metaphorically sealed, instead opting to talk about more of his 'war stories', most of which involved Nazis and hippies. The sky grew increasingly dark and ominous at the ride continued.
Only a mere ten minutes later, the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the airport terminal.
"HAHAHA! I told you that I'd get you here in one piece! And, since you were such great soldiers, I'll even waive the charge!"
Shadow stumbled out of the taxi on shaky legs, dropping to his knees on the ground. He never though he'd see the day when he would prefer to go slow rather than fast.
Luigi seemed to be affected in the same manner. He was panting as if having a panic attack and gripped onto his hat as if it were a lifeline.
"Enjoy your leave, maggots! You deserved it! You just did your country a great service!"'
Luigi wasn't impressed with the terminal for the airport. While his experience with airports before had been next to zero (only the Mushroom docks and the Beanbean airport came to mind, and exterminating Piranha Plants on the latter wasn't exactly a good memory), he didn't need experience to tell that this airport was less than efficient. There were sixteen gates spanning the floor, and all sixteen of them were absolutely packed with passengers, save for one.
The windows on the terminal were covered in grime, providing an obstructed view to the stormy skies above the tarmac. The floor wasn't much better, feeling disconcertingly sticky to the touch. Several articles that people had forgotten were strewn about, ignored by the rest of the passengers. A grainy-sounding version of "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles played over the PA system.
Deciding to leave the check-in to Shadow, he wandered over to the vending machine next to the door. It was horribly gaudy, painted in shades of red, yellow, purple, and blue that never should have been put together. There were a grand total of three drinks in the machine: some kind of punch that claimed to give you superpowers, another kind of cola that was apparently blueberry flavored, and a can of carbonated water.
Since when did water ever come in cans? Luigi asked himself.
Luigi made his way over to the least crowded gate, the one which he correctly assumed to be the low-rent airline he and Shadow were flying out of. Again, it became evident that there was a reason this airline was chosen to transport them. There were no security guards, and a large banner with the name "AIR EPSILON" was hanging above the line.
There was only one person left in line, a very fat man, standing in front of Shadow. He was explaining to the clerk that he wished to exchange the ticket he had for one to Mumbai the month after, only instead of it being a direct return he wants to come back via Beijing instead and spend a week there or maybe longer because he's meeting his wife who'll be flying in from Rome, Italy, and also asking if he can use part of his accumulated Frequent Flyer mileage to offset the price of her connection between Hong Kong and Rome? She'll be in Hong Kong before going to Rome, he added, by way of explanation.
All of this was said in one enormous breath with so few pauses that neither Luigi nor Shadow could make sense of the conversation. Evidently, neither could the clerk, since she had asked him to repeat it.
He did so again, all while tapping his feet to the indistinguishable beat of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree," which was playing over the PA system.
Shadow gritted his teeth. He despised most modern music, which he considered to be anything written after 1950. The fact was only made worse by the fact that it was played over the grainy PA system.
The fat man in front of them explained that his wife already has a ticket with Air Pacific from Hong Kong to Rome, and wondered aloud if it would be possible to change to Air Epsilon and use some of his mileage credits. The clerk explains that this airline didn't fly that route, and that mileage credits weren't transferable to other passengers anyway. The man said that he'd heard that on some airlines it was and the clerk says not as far as she knows, the man said that's a pity, the clerk agreed, and started to look up next month's flights to Mumbai.
The fat man turned to Shadow and smiled. "Takes forever, doesn't it? I thought you could transfer these Frequent Flyer things. Should be able to for your wife. Isn't the music great?" He turned back to the clerk without waiting for Shadow's response.
The clerk explained to the fat man that flights to Mumbai go via Paris which means changing airports, and that on his fare schedule he wouldn't be allowed a stopover in Beijing. He shook his head and wandered out of line.
Shadow was seething after this monumental waste of time and gross ignorance of grammar and punctuation by the man in front of him. He walked up to the clerk and slid his tickets across the desk.
"Ah, Mr. Blackheart. You have two choices: either you can get a ticket direct to Paris through-" she said an incomprehensible word, which Shadow assumed to be a name, " for the price of these tickets, or for an additional $150, in cash, you can get a nonstop to Paris. Which will it be?"
Although it would leave him with no spending money, Shadow was beyond caring. He didn't want to go through a million transfers in wherever the hell this plane flew out of.
"Nonstop, give me the money." He motioned to Luigi.
Luigi handed over a thick stack of bills and two quarters. He took another sip of his carbonated water.
Shadow handed the wad of cash to the clerk, who paused briefly to count it. "I'm sorry, sir, but you're short fifty cents. A direct flight it is, then!"
"Announcing the departure of Flight 42 to Paris. This flight is now closed. Have a nice day." a monotone voice sounded over the PA.
Shadow whirled to face Luigi, furious. "Oh, so you just HAD to spend fifty cents on a can of water? Now I have to take a plane through Commie Land before I can get my free trip to Paris? Is the whole world out to get me?"
"Come now, sir. I'm sure you won't find it that bad at all!" the clerk said perkily. She had failed to notice Luigi sneaking up the stairway behind her.
Almost as if to mock their plight, the song on the speakers switched to a grainy version of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" played by Peter, Paul, and Mary. This just happened to be one of the songs that Shadow absolutely despised.
"That is IT!" Shadow ran to the pillar on which the speaker was mounted.
Shadow began to ascend the pillar, paying no attention to the growing crowd below. He saw the speaker mounted on the edge of the pillar. Resisting the temptation to blast the hateful thing out of existence, he decided to take a more civilized approach.
With a deft tug, he yanked the two protruding wires out of the back of the machine. With a squawk, the speaker stopped playing music.
There was a smattering of applause from the crowd below.
Smirking deviously, Shadow connected the two wires.
With a loud sizzle of electricity, all of the other speakers in the terminal stopped playing "Leaving on a Jet Plane".
The applause of the crowd was deafening.
Glancing up at the grate in the ceiling above him, Shadow got an idea. He ripped off the grate and climbed into the duct. He pulled his way through the duct, making an enormous din as he did so. Near the top, he kicked out a grate and crawled out into a room of very surprised looking air traffic controllers.
He saw Luigi unsuccessfully trying to argue with them. They were completely oblivious to his presence, instead opting to focus intensely on Shadow.
Luigi nervously shuffled over to Shadow. "I think they think you are a G-O-D." he whispered covertly.
"So what? What do they want?" Shadow retorted.
"I don't know, order them to do something!" he whispered furiously.
Shadow looked at the air traffic controllers. "Controllers, stop flight 42!" he thundered, doing his best to appear as a deity.
"I'm sorry, your omnipotence, but it's too late."
Shadow glared maliciously at the nearest air traffic controller. "THEN I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SMITE YOU ALL!" he bellowed dramatically, in a deep voice.
"ACK! Flight 42, permission is denied! Return to the terminal!"
The pilot muttered something unkind into the microphone before saying, "Acknowledged, tower. Returning."
Shadow slithered back down the gate, unseen by the air traffic controllers. Luigi instead opted for the stairs.
The two of them met up at the terminal, where a grateful, cheering crowd carried them past the check-in desk. They were quickly issued boarding cards and passed into the care of a passing airline official, who whisked them through all the formalities in a way which showed Shadow it's perfectly possible if they put their minds to it. Within six minutes they were sitting in a seat on the plane, already taxiing its way down the runway.
Shadow was mostly asleep when the PA system woke him up. "At this time, we will be serving you with dinner. Please return to your seats for your comfort and safety."
To their credit, the seats in the plane were incredibly comfortable, and he had been able to board without too much of a hassle. Blearily, he opened his eyes.
The stewardess had just finished rewarding a politician across the aisle with a delicious-looking concoction involving raspberries and kiwi fruit.
She then turned to Shadow. "We have Chicken Kiev with raspberry vinegar and a kiwi fruit, or we have Filet with raspberries and kiwi vinegar dressing. Which would you prefer?"
Shadow didn't need time to think. "Filet." He got his hopes up in anticipation of a real meal.
"I'll have the same." Luigi said.
The flight attendant went away for a while, then returned. "We are out of the Filet, sir. Would you like the Chicken?"
Shadow felt his hopes sink. It may not have been what he wanted, but at least he would get some food. "Fine. I'll take the chicken."
"I will, too." Luigi answered.
"We are also out of that, sir. Would you like the regional special with pulped roots, llama meat, and all sorts of other jungle stuff?"
Both Shadow and Luigi vehemently protested against this recent development in vain.
"Excellent!" the attendant remarked, unfolding their tables and placing a bowl of stew in front of each of them, almost as if she had anticipated this.
Nearly in unison, Shadow and Luigi leaned in to examine the dish that was put in front of them. It seemed to be composed of muddy swamp water, old shoe leather, and a number of small, mutated, greenish things with far too many heads and eyes.
Luigi gagged at the abhorrent smell of the thing, trying not to throw up. Shadow was currently looking for the stewardess so that he might dump the entire thing over her head.
He didn't have to look far. The stewardess was marching up the aisle, along with a much beefier flight attendant.
Shadow groaned. Why did all the annoying people have to be backed up by gorillas?
"You haven't finished your delicacy, sir. For shame!" she scolded. "Regulations require me to tell you that regulations require the tables to be returned to their stowed positions for landing. Obviously, your table cannot be stowed when your food is still in place. And, since Union rules do not permit me to remove a full plate, I shall not be able to remove your plate, the table cannot be stowed properly, we shall not be able to land, and we shall have to fly round and round until we run out of fuel, crash, and die. Have a nice flight!" She departed, along with the burly attendant.
Shadow reached down to move the bowl, but a sudden movement from within caused him to flinch backwards.
"IT'S ALIVE!" Luigi shrieked, again attracting unwanted attention from the stewardess, who silenced him with a sharp shake of her head.
To hell with it. Shadow wasn't eating this thing even if his life depended on it. Based on his reaction, Luigi had come to the same conclusion. Meaning to recline his seat back, he accidentally hit the button to turn on the light instead.
He heard a hoarse cry from the back of the airplane. It took him less than a second to put two and two together.
Apparently, the imbeciles in the factory had crossed more than a few wires when assembling this crate. All he had to do was find the right seat, and he would be able to fling the hellish stew back from whence it came.
He took a seat near the rear of the plane, right next to a sleepy politician. Hoping desperately that he had got it right, he leaned over and pushed the 'light' button.
Shadow was rewarded with a dreadfully wet squelch from the front of the cabin, followed by a noisome stench that permeated the cabin.
Excellent. That left only Luigi's stew to attend to.
He rose from his seat again, and sat across the aisle, this time next to a mother holding her baby. He reached up and pushed the 'light' button again.
Much to his amusement, he heard a kind of gurgling grunt, followed by an angry roar. He looked up to see the beefy attendant who had harassed him earlier covered with the stew, almost as if he had forced Luigi out of his seat, taken it, and had the seat in front of him shoot back and force his face into the food.
Shadow actually laughed at this development. Schadenfreude was one of his favorite pastimes, after all, and the fact that it happened to a person so deserving made it all the more worthwhile.
He settled back in his seat in a much better mood, deciding to try to fall asleep again.
The stewardess appeared in the front of the plane a mere ten minutes later, apparently trying to make an announcement. "Attention, ladies and gentleman. Uh... I need to make an announcement."
She turned on the overhead speakers. "You see... the pilot is in the restroom with horrible indigestion from the stew, and it's time for the co-pilot's daily nap... so... is there anyone on board who knows how to fly a plane?"
As if proving the stewardess' point, the nose of the plane began to tip down. Aside from a few bowls tipping over and spreading their fetid contents on the passengers in front of them, no one reacted strangely. The ladies kept gossiping, the businessman kept reading his newspaper, and the fat man kept snoring.
Shadow's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Seriously? What kind of crazy people are you?"
The stewardess barely spared him a glance. "Also, Engine 1 has failed and Engine 4 has caught on fire, so... we estimate our landing time to be in about two minutes. Nothing to worry about!" she said perkily.
Shadow wasn't sure if the woman was brainwashed or just insane. He wasn't staying around to investigate further, though.
"Sir, may you please take your seat? We'll be landing in a few minutes, and..."
Shadow considered throwing a punch at her. It wasn't worth it. "Screw this, I'm out of here!" he shouted, running to the back of the plane.
Another stewardess was waiting near the restroom in the back, disregarding the rules about smoking cigarettes on the plane.
"I need a parachute!" Shadow bellowed at her. "Where are they?!"
The stewardess looked irate, as if Shadow was interrupting something far more important than just smoking. "Sir, you don't need a parachute. This plane is perfectly safe. There's no chance of it crashing. Well, actually there's a 29% chance. Rounded up, and expressed in the hexatridecimal system. It's probably much, much lower if expressed in regular old ordinary numbers."
Shadow was a hair's breadth away from resorting to physical violence to extract the lifesaving apparatus from the stubborn woman. "Listen to me, you indoctrinated psychopath! This. PLANE. IS. CRASHING!" he shouted in her face.
Once again, she paid him no mind. "Sir, I'm going to ask you to take your seat so we can land..."
Luigi butted into the conversation. "Stewardess, hsit noe nitsytnes de'ens stinglai ka'abi!" he shouted in a strange language Shadow had never heard before.
The woman's face lit up with recognition. "Oh, you're one of us! If I'd have known, I'd never have served you that special. Terrible, isn't it?" Suddenly helpful, she strapped a large parachute onto Luigi's back.
Shadow stared, slack-jawed, at this spectacle.
Never mind. He had about thirty point two seconds left to live, and...
"Stewardess! I need one of those, too!"
She snapped back into her bored expression reserved, apparently, for non-natives. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to take your seat..."
Shadow gave her the finger. Immature, yes, but still immensely satisfying.
Luigi, meanwhile, was examining the hatch at the back of the plane. It was imprinted upon with the amazingly complex instructions of LIFT THEN PULL.
Luigi lifted the lever to unlock the door.
"Wow, toughie. Bet the next step is a real doozy." the stewardess commented.
Rolling his eyes, Luigi pulled the lever. The difference in pressure between the pressurized atmosphere of the plane and outside ripped the shoddily constructed door off of its hinges and sent it flying out over the rapidly approaching jungle. Lightning flashed over the nearly black sky as intense, eighty-mile-per-hour winds blew. A dense white mist condensed in the cabin, and the effects of the decompression were already pulling on Luigi, who was having second thoughts, apparently.
Too late. The difference in pressure ripped both Shadow and Luigi out of the airplane. Luigi pulled the ripcord on the parachute, unfurling it dramatically until it caught on a jagged piece of metal in the door frame.
Shadow wasn't so lucky. He didn't have a parachute, so he maintained a death grip on Luigi's leg. Extremely humiliating, of course, but it was far better than the alternative.
Suddenly, Engine 1 came back online. The stewardess looked out the open door, oblivious to their plight. "See, I told you! We'll be fine!" She turned her back to them, still ignoring the gaping hole in the fuselage and the two passengers hanging out.
"When I survive this I'll sue you and this company for every pathetic cent you own! Don't think I won't! I'll take it to the highest court!" Shadow ranted, his cries carried away by the wind.
Luigi attempted to get the stewardess' attention, but this only had the effect of ripping a hole in the parachute as it detached from the fuselage, throwing its passengers into the open air.
Luigi cried out with terror as lightning struck the plane they had detached from not moments before. This unsurprising turn of events had little to no effect on the plane's flight, which is to say that the lightning didn't magically jump-start the failing engines as seen in many poorly thought out movies.
Once again, a tragedy was neatly averted before it could have ever taken place. All of the other passengers and crew on the plane were natives of a small country (the inhabitants proudly considered a lone city to be a country) that was ruled over by a sadistic (and completely insane) dictator, a man known as Yog Sur'shashothasht. In addition to requiring his 'citizens' to pronounce the ridiculous name in its entirety every time they spoke of him, he had his sights set on world domination. Unlike many other dictators in the past, his threats could actually be taken seriously due to his country's incredible prowess for making weapons, a skill which some attributed to the mineral deposits in the area having a psychological effect on the populace. A nuclear device would have been detonated in Los Angeles later that year, igniting a third world war that would have cost millions of lives and billions of dollars in damage.
Any chance this war would ever occur was completely averted when the crashing plane smacked into his mansion a good fifteen minutes later, incinerating the dictator but miraculously leaving all of the passengers and crew alive, albeit with serious injuries.
Neither Shadow nor Luigi would ever know the consequences of their action. At the present moment, both were far too concerned with not getting struck by lightning to care about the plane or its apathetic passengers.
After getting tossed like leaves in the wind for a full five minutes, the two descended into the dense forest below.
"Now what?" Luigi asked, hanging from his entangled parachute.
Shadow looked down towards the ground. To his complete surprise, he saw that the tree was overhanging a pool that was about six feet below them.
"Get rid of the parachute. We can land in that pool." he stated, keeping things simple.
Luigi complied, unstrapping the parachute. The two fell and landed in the pool with an enormous splash.
Shadow crawled out, sopping wet and miserable. He really didn't care much for water, one of the only similarities that he would admit to share with the Faker. Unlike the Faker though, he could actually swim.
The water didn't seem to bother Luigi much. He climbed out of the pool and wrung out his hat, not really caring that his clothes were wet.
"What do we do now?" Luigi asked.
"Easy. We break into his house. He doesn't seem to be home, and even if he were, he probably wouldn't appreciate visitors."
Luigi was obviously unhappy with this recent development, but he went along as Shadow pushed open the surprisingly unlocked patio door.
"Huh." Shadow said quietly. He was slightly disappointed that he didn't even have to pick the lock.
"Tell me something," he asked, as he crossed the threshold, "how the hell did you get a parachute out of that lady?"
Luigi grinned. "It was simple. I just wasted most of the trip reading one of those travel magazines with important phrases in that culture's language."
The two descended into the basement of the house as inconspicuously as they could. "Let's just wait here to see if anyone's home, then I'll see if I can't hotwire his car or something..." Shadow told Luigi languidly.
"All right, I guess..." Luigi murmured, taking a seat on one of the large boxes that adorned the basement. "What's in these things, anyway?"
As childish as it was, Shadow was unable to ignore his piqued curiosity. Especially since several of the boxes were secured with tough-looking padlocks.
He opened the top of one of the packing crates, finding it to be filled with several bags of black powder. Shadow lowered his nose to sniff at the substance. "Gunpowder..." he muttered. Looking around the room, he could see many similar crates, some of which were stamped with the 'radioactive' warning label. "Why, of all places, did I have to land in a weapons dump?"
"What do you think he'll do if he finds us?" Luigi asked nervously.
"Oh, nothing much. Probably just vivisect us and then strangle us to death with our own intestines." Shadow said idly, hoping for a response.
He was slightly disappointed when he got none from Luigi.
"What are you going to do?" Luigi inquired.
Shadow rolled his eyes. Luigi was really getting to be a burden. "I don't know, I think I'll go upstairs and look for some lunch. Afterwards, I may take a soak in the lovely hot tub he had out on that patio. What the hell do you think?! I'm going to call the cops!"
He reached out for the old-fashioned touch-dial phone resting conveniently on the wall. Dialing 911, he held the phone to his ear and hoped for the best.
"Hello! You have reached 911!" an all-too-cheerful voice stated.
Shadow gritted his teeth, preparing for another headache.
"If you know the name of the crime being committed, please wait until it is stated! To report a fire, press #-9-4-2! To report a robbery in progress, press *-2-4-1-#! To report the sighting of Anti-Citizen 0-0074193, press 9-9-2-3-1-2-*-#!"
Shadow snarled and punched a few random buttons in hopes that it would do something useful.
"You have selected: Regicide! If you know the name of the official being assassinated, please state it now!"
Shadow let out an incoherent growl of frustration, but the phone apparently accepted it as a name.
"You have selected: King Grrrlrrraargargr, owner and founder of Pirate King Resorts. Thank you for your tip. Goodbye, and have a very safe day!"
The line went dead. Shadow ripped the phone off of its mount and threw it at the opposite wall.
"What was with that? Call them again!" Luigi insisted.
"Are you kidding? Some yokel on the phone wants me to wade through this convoluted menu!"
"Wade through it, then! I don't wanna die out here!"
Shadow was about to argue this point when he heard voices coming down the stairs.
"Hide!" he hissed, gesturing to a crate filled with boxes of bullets.
""Geez, boss, these things are heavy!" a man complained.
"Hurry up with those crates! We need to get these loaded on time or else we'll miss the shipment!" hissed a tall man in a black trenchcoat.
The first man panted. "Do ya really gotta wear that thing, boss? It makes you look like one of them cartoon villains from The Adventures of-"
"Quiet!" his boss hissed. "The esteemed Yog Sur'shashothasht has promised me more than enough money to make this thing worthwhile, and I'm not going to miss it because you're out of shape!"
Shadow was quietly listening to this conversation from inside the crate, at least until the man set him down and walked away.
Five minutes later, the sweaty man leaned on a shipment of plutonium as he wiped his brow with a dirty rag.
"What's up with these things, boss?" he asked.
The second man snarled, "Why don't you try reading your damn memos for once? Do you think I'm just going to recap several months of planning?"
"All right, fine. I was just asking a question." he trailed off, wandering ahead to follow his boss.
Shadow cursed inwardly. From the sound of it, this weapons baron was shaping up to be exactly like a second-rate B-movie villain, and he was hoping that he'd reveal his plans in much the same manner. Evidently this was not to be.
Cautiously, he poked his head out of the top of the crate. There was no one to be seen. The crates were stacked inside a large truck which was on the move, hurtling away to destinations unknown. He heard the faint snatches of a conversation coming from the cab in front...
"Dead? What do you mean he's..."
A muffled sound, as if someone was talking on the radio.
"Fine. Just have... be sure to... I don't want any int-... ,understand?"
Someone was dead, that much was obvious. If he was a friend of the baron, then it automatically made him evil in Shadow's eyes. He hadn't heard much of that last bit of conversation, but...
The truck skidded to a halt. Immediately, Shadow dove back inside the crate. Once again, he could hear faint snatches of conversation, felt someone moving him, then more sounds of loading cargo.
Shadow opened his eyes again an indeterminate amount of time later. He was ashamed to admit that he had fallen asleep inside the crate, but even more disappointed that he had missed any inevitable developments with the weapons baron.
He shot out of the crate only to find Luigi roaming around what was apparently a cargo hold, idly searching through boxes.
"How long have I been out?"
"I don't know, an hour or so?"
"They're moving the cargo! This guy's contact is dead, so he's taking it into the country!"
"You think?" Luigi asked, with a deadpan expression on his face. "I don't know, did you miss the whole 'plane taking off' thing?"
Great. Now Luigi was snarking at him. "All right. You're going to help me stop this shipment." Shadow might have been slightly misanthropic, but that didn't mean he wanted to see people die in a nuclear blast. Well, innocent citizens, anyway. There were several people who he wouldn't mind seeing burnt to a crisp...
"Oh, so now you're asking me for help? Just a few hours ago, you were complaining about how you were stuck with me, and now you want me to help you bring a plane down?"
"All right, I admit that I might need your assistance. In a vague manner that will certainly be overshadowed by my contributions."
Luigi snorted. "All right, what do you want to do?"
"Sabotage the engine. He'll be forced to make a landing, and then we can contact the authorities. There should be an access hatch around here somewhere..." he said, pacing the perimeter of the room as he searched.
"I have a better idea!" Luigi declared, holding out what appeared to be a brightly colored orange and yellow flower with a face.
"What is that?" Shadow asked, incredulous.
"This is a fire flower! It allows me to create fireballs!"
"Yeah, right..." Shadow rolled his eyes.
As if to spite Shadow, Luigi ate the flower. With a look of pure disgust on his face, his clothing suddenly and inexplicably morphed, his overalls becoming bright green while his hat and undershirt turned white.
Shadow stared at this spectacle in shock.
"I told you it was real!" Luigi taunted, moving his hand in a 'throwing' motion as a fireball shot out and landed on one of the cardboard boxes. The box burst into flames.
Luigi screeched in horror while Shadow just stared at it, mouth agape. Couldn't anything work out today?
"Now you did it!" he yelled, climbing over crates towards the front of the cargo area in an effort to escape the rapidly-expanding blaze.
"Let me try something!" Luigi shouted, throwing another fireball at the front of the cabin. The wall melted, revealing the cockpit and the pilot. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Trenchcoat was there as well.
"You!" he hissed, rising from his seat and pulling a submachine gun out if his trenchcoat.
Yelping, Luigi threw a fireball at the man. His trenchcoat caught on fire. The man reacted as anyone would in response to such an action.
"Fiiiiiiiire! Fire, fire, fire!" I am on fire! AAAAAGH!" he screeched, running around the cabin rather than opting to remove the trenchcoat.
The pilot turned around to deal with the commotion, but neglected to continue steering the plane. The nose of the plane tipped down, towards the airport where the plane was destined to land.
Shadow felt an absurd feeling of déjà vu, having experienced one plane crash just a few hours ago. Luigi kept throwing fireballs at Mr. Trenchcoat, who had finally had enough sense to remove his namesake, only to reveal that his face was covered by a balaclava.
Eyes (and hair) blazing, he recovered the submachine gun and stalked towards Luigi menacingly.
It was time for action. Seizing Luigi's arm, he forced his arm forward in a throwing motion, forcing a fireball to erupt from Luigi's palm. It bounced once off of the dashboard before it struck the windshield, breaking it. Shadow grabbed Luigi under his arm as one might do to a football before leaping from the plane.
Mr. Trenchcoat let out a blood-curdling howl before throwing himself from the plane, apparently hell-bent on taking his stowaways down with him. As soon as he cleared the plane, it was struck by lightning, instantly incinerating its contents. Tiny bits of broken plane began to rain down on the airport.
Shadow released Luigi, who began to scream bloody murder. He spread his arms in a vain attempt to lessen the inevitable impact.
Shadow smashed through the glass on the terminal and fell to the ground at near terminal velocity. His carbon-reinforced bones took the brunt of the fall, the few hairline cracks that remained would be healed within hours. Luigi, on the other hand, was still screaming his head off. He tore through the roof of the terminal and smacked into the ground, leaving a quite comical Luigi-shaped hole.
The impact should have killed him, obviously, but it did little more than knock the power of the Fire Flower out of him. In all his travels, Luigi could never understand the nature of the items that he used. They were useful, certainly, but their real utility was their ability to protect the user from a certain death blow. He stood up, still groaning, shaking his head groggily to remove any shards of broken glass that remained on his hat. Luigi sheepishly looked around at the growing crowd of people pointing and staring.
Mr. Trenchcoat, on the other hand, was far less fortunate. Unless one happens to be the ultimate life form or protected from death by a semi-mystical object, person-to-pavement collisions involved a lot less walking away and a lot more death. And thus, Mr. Trenchcoat's tragic dream of plunging the world into chaos for a third time died with him, dashed to so many pieces like his shattered bones as he and the pavement met at one hundred and twenty five miles per hour.
Looking up, Shadow saw debris was still raining down from the exploding plane. It felt, once again, like the entire world was out to get him, and he still didn't get his free vacation in Paris.
Thirteen uniformed security guards had gotten over the initial shock of seeing two people plunge into their terminal and survive, not to mention one smack into the ground and expire, were now coming to apprehend the suspects by force. They brandished police batons and were slowly edging towards Shadow and Luigi.
The two of them came to the same conclusion at the exact same time. They ran out of the terminal and hopped into the taxi that was waiting by the curb.
"Take me to anywhere, and step on it!" Luigi shouted, before noticing who the driver was.
"Hello again, troops! War transport awaits!"
Shadow's scream of disbelief could be heard echoing around the terminal.
"Daa-da-da-da-DAA-da, da-da-da-DAA-da, da-da-da-DAAA-da, da-da-da-daaaaaaa!" Doe gleefully belted out the refrain to the Ride of the Valkyries as he sped down the highway once again, this time away from the airport.
"That was amazing work you did in there, troops! Couldn't have done it better myself. That was a real neat trick, blowing up his plane like that!"
The howling of sirens from behind them served as a reminder to the fact that they were being chased.
"Don't worry, soldiers! I'll get you away from the fake fuzz!"
"No, that's really not necessary!" Luigi begged.
In response, Doe floored the petal, just as a flash of white light emerged from the taxi, sweeping away Shadow and Luigi in a gust of wind.
Doe turned around to find the taxi completely empty, a fact which didn't phase him in the slightest. "Ah, stranger things have happened." he muttered. "Stranger things indeed..."
No, this story isn't dead yet! Thanks to all those who have continued to read this story (all twelve of you). I promise that more will be coming soon. As always, any feedback or comments you have will be greatly appreciated.
This chapter's question: Who is THEIR leader? It should become obvious when you think about Mr. Doe's full name and true occupation.
