Alfred appeared, yet again, in Americium; Rome stood there to greet him.
"Jesus Christ, what was that?"
"I don't know, you're Jesus, you tell me!"
"Sorry. Most of my vision cubes are down. I just have the ones watching you and the ones watching everyone jerk off."
"They kinda look like aliens."
"Yeah, they came from the sky. So they're either aliens or sky-people."
"Think about it: America is gone. So there's no one around to save the world from aliens anymore. It's the perfect time to strike!"
"I think you're on to something, Matthew."
There was an awkward silence. Alfred looked at Rome quizzically.
"Matthew?!"
"Oh. Sorry, I was talking to Matthew earlier."
"Who's Matthew?"
"Just some guy. He's alright."
"You need to send me back! I can still do it! I can still save America!"
"I don't know if I have enough cube power to do that. Not without diverting energy from the jerk-off cubes."
"Oh come one! What's more important?"
"They're both of the most extreme importance!"
"If I don't stop the aliens, there might not be anyone else to watch jerk off!"
Rome considered.
"I see. Well then, I must send you back. Farewell and good luck! Hallelulah."
Alfred disappeared in a puff of smoke and fell onto a paved parking lot, breaking all of his bones.
He reappeared back in front of Rome.
"Oh, right. The ocean. Halellujee."
Alfred felt himself hit water this time, and he slowly sunk.
"Whoa, I sunk pretty deep this time," Alfred said to no one in particular. How he could breathe and how he could talk clearly was beyond him. Probably Rome's fault.
"Oh shit, it's a Great White Shark!" Alfred yelled. Well, it looked like a great white shark. It was really just another person who painted himself entirely white. The only thing that wasn't touched was his auburn hair, which had an odd little curl.
"And a Great Red Shark!" Again, another person with an odd curl in his hair floated towards Alfred. True to the name, the person was painted completely red.
"And a Hammerhead Shark!" A person with tanned skin, messy brown hair and green eyes wearing a giraffe floatie swam up to Alfred.
"Maybe I won't attract their attention if I stop yelling when I see one…"
"TRESSPASSER!" The red shark yelled. "We are the shark council!"
"Oh hey," Alfred greeted.
"What are you doing in our waters, stranger?" asked the white shark.
"Why do you intrude upon the sacred realm of the shark council?" the red one asked.
"These waters have been under the protection of the shark council for twelve thousand long, terrible years," the giraffe guy said.
"That's a long time," Alfred commented. "You're doing a great job, I guess."
"Yes, the effectiveness of our council is an undeniable fact, ve~" White said.
"It is undeniable!" Giraffe added.
"I tried to deny it," Red commented. "For years I spat in the face of this council. I refuted that in which my heart was true."
Alfred sighed. "Look, I'm kind of in a hurry-"
"Do not interrupt council proceedings!" Giraffe said.
"We dock you 12 shark points!" Red exclaimed.
"It will takes years for you to gain them back!" White added.
"I'm sorry, but I'm on an important mission for America!"
"More important than the shark council?" Giraffe inquired.
"I don't know, I don't really know anything about the shark council."
"And we know not of America things, for we concern ourselves only for the matters of the sea. And sea sharks," Giraffe added thoughtfully.
"And finance!" Red pitched in.
"Yes, we are all extremely interested in theories of commerce."
"Look, aliens are invading and I'm trying to stop them! If shark council's as great as you say it is, they'll probably come after you, too."
There was a silence.
"La profecía," Giraffe breathed.
"Could this be it?" White asked in a hushed whisper.
"I bet this is it. I bet this is the prophecy," Red declared.
"What prophecy?"
"There was a prophecy that took place in the first shark council meeting. It was foretold that one day, a person would show up and say 'look, aliens are invading and I have to stop them! If shark council is as great as you say it is, they'll probably come after you too.'"
"That was prophesized?"
"No, of course not, amigo," giraffe said.
"We are a shark council of science, ve~"
"And finance, you assholes!"
"Your argument has persuaded us, however, and we will allow you to leave infused with mystical shark powers."
"Correction: scientific shark powers!" White yelled.
"And financial shark powers!" Red added.
"You're not making any shark sense!" White retorted.
"That's because I'm too busy making shark dollars!"
"You all are just a bunch of dorks," Alfred commented.
"Prepare to receive shark powers."
"Okay."
There was a pause as Giraffe looked at Alfred expectantly.
"Are you prepared?"
"Sure."
There was a long, awkward silence.
"You got them. The process is complete.
"Cool. I'm sure that'll be helpful somehow."
"You must thank us!" White said.
"Thanks.'"
"Di niente, it was no problem!"
"It was a huge effort. These assbags are lying."
"Well, I'm gonna go talk to Matthias, see if he knows anything about the aliens. Do you guys know Matthias?"
"Is he a squid?" Giraffe asked.
"No, I don't think so."
"Then no."
"Wait, is he a dolphin with his face stuck in a boot?" White asked.
"That was Mathias!" Red corrected.
"What did he say then?"
"Matthias."
"Oh."
"What about Matthew? Do you know Matthew?" Alfred questioned.
"I don't think so. Who is Matthew?" Giraffe asked.
"I don't actually know Matthew either," he confessed.
There was another awkward silence.
"It's weird that you would ask that."
"I might know Matthew," White said. "Is he some sort of illusion?"
"I don't know, I know literally nothing about Matthew."
"I bet it's the Matthew I know, ve~. He's an illusion."
"He might be," Alfred agreed.
"UARAGHAUARGJAI"
"Who the hell is that?!" Alfred exclaimed.
"Pay no attention to the screaming eel," Giraffe said.
"She's just angry because she wanted shark powers, but we didn't give her any shark powers!" White explained.
"URAGHAURAGHURAGH"
Giraffe cast Alfred a sidelong glance.
"You should probably go."
"Ah, shit! Matthias! Did the aliens get you?!" Alfred called out frantically. Matthias was still in his corner in the bar, but he was slumped over lifelessly against the wall, all colour drained form his face.
"Nah man, I just finally ran out of cube energy," Matthias sighed. His voice had lost all of its youthful vigour. "It's time for the last sun of Slamzone to fade away."
"I don't know what to say, Matthias. I don't really know you that well."
"It's okay, I had a good run. I spread the word of Slamzone to a few alternate realities, and I got to drink so many Squeezits! Remember those?"
"Yeah, they were kinda gross."
"The bottles-" Matthias was interrupted by a coughing fit. After a minute, he resumed wearily. "The bottles had faces on them."
"I know, Matthias. I know."
"There's something important I need to tell you. Before I die forever."
"Oh yeah?"
"A secret resistance has been formed to stop the invaders."
"Already?"
"They're looking for you, Heart of America. They need your help." The end of Matthias' sentence dissolved into another coughing fit.
"Awesome. Because I barely understand what's going on."
"They gave me a phone number for you to call them at."
"Hold on, let me get a pen-"
"It's 8."
There was a pause.
"What?"
"Just dial 8."
"That's the whole number?"
"Ja."
"That's not gonna call anyone, Matthias!"
"One last thing before I go: There's something I want you to have." Matthias gave a weak cough before he leaned forward.
"Is it a Carlsberg?" Alfred guessed.
"I've been saving it for years. Waiting for the right moment. That moment will never come for me. But maybe it will for you. Here it is: The very last can of pineapples."
"What?"
"With that, you can give it to my nephew, Peter. It will make the ending of this world so much more tear-jerking." With a shaking arm, Matthias handed the can to Alfred.
"You know this isn't the actual apocalypse, right?"
"What?"
"You can't really do that since you're in the wrong universe."
"No way!"
"Sorry! I-I probably shouldn't have told you that."
"I die sadder than I possibly could have imagined."
"Oh no!"
"Slamzone…I've…"
Matthias never finished his sentence.
Alfred stood silently in mourning at the loss of Slamzone, and its once-energetic representative.
.
.
.
.
.
"Fuck."
