This is one of the shortest chapters in the book. The reason for that is that I may have ran out of ideas for this? It is only 747 words, but don't worry! I'll be uploading the next one very soon. And when I say very soon, I mean very soon. I promise the next chapter will be longer, so enjoy this one!
Chapter 11: Pyrotouille
A small adult man stood, seemingly alone in a set of sewer systems. It was Scout and he wasn't alone at all. Taking a deep yawn, he watched as his gas masked friend emerged from the shadows, almost ominously. "Hey, I know ya do dat, but can ya not act so creepy?" the speedster sighed while he scratched at his bandages subconsciously. "Ouhkymmh!" Pyro mumbled brightly, clapping their hands together as if they were about to get to work.
It was Friday and his fellow co worker was taking him to the supermarket today. The mute thing didn't even have a vehicle or anything, but Engineer had assured him that they had a means of transportation. "So, what are we goin' ta do?" Scout asked nonchalantly, leaning up against the walls. "Mmmrph ghing shrumh!" Pyro replied back as they pulled out the lid of a metal trash can from behind their back. "Uh… yeah, I don't get it." The muted monster walked to the left wall of the sewer and placed their gloved hand on it. Knocking it experimentally, the sound of it echoed around the small space. They moved a bit and tapped again, another ring but except a bit more hollow. With a yip of excitement, they shifted their weight and pushed. The wall swung open to reveal another series of tunnels.
"What da crap…" Scout gaped with a slight drawl watching as a secret sewer system was unfolded beneath his eyes. Pyro walked past him like it was nothing and then placed the trash bin lid on the floor. They stepped on it and then reached into their holster around their waist. Pulling out their detonator, the pyromaniac pointed it straight at the bostonian. "Woah, Pyro," he began, backing away and reaching behind his back for his Flying Guillotine. He grasped nothing. He left it back at the base. "Mmmphh rmph," they murmured under their breath. "Put da gun down, man," the speedster cautiously squeaked. His stomach churned as he took a few more steps back. He was going to die here and no one would know. The muted monster pulled the trigger, but right before he did so, he aimed the gun slightly behind him and at the wall.
The detonator's blast made them fly forward, skirting on the trash can lid and ram right into Scout. Scout screamed like a little girl as they both went "surfing" along the sewers. Clutching to Pyro's asbestos suit, they zoomed through the tunnels at the speed of a car. When they started to slow down, the pyromaniac will turn around and shoot off again. After a few minutes of this charade, the bostonian ceased his screaming and came to enjoy it. Every so often, he will kick off at a higher place in the wall to give an extra push. Even though he was contributing to the speed, his fellow co worker actually knew where to go, so he allowed them to take the reins of the trash can surfboard.
Ten minutes later, the pair came to a stop. They were at a dead end and a ladder clung to the wall, leading upward to a grate. "Frphmwer mesh!" Pyro mumbled with a gesture of their gloved hand. They climbed up and slid the grate to the side, heading out to the world above. A small hole of light emitted from the ceiling and Scout followed after them. The group emerged into a small side alley near the supermarket.
After about an hour, the group emerged from the building carrying bags of groceries. Moving the grate over again, they climbed down into the sewer systems and closed it up. Surfing around the tunnels, Scout whooped loudly while he raced forward. He had to do this more often, it was so interesting. Speeding around he watched with relish as he skirted around corners without one awkward movement. Ten minutes later, the trash can lid surfboard came to a stop.
Pyro and Scout dragged the groceries into kitchen with Scout talking more quickly than usual about their amazing adventure of sewer surfing. Words came out of his mouth like bullets and it rained upon everyone's ears. "Glad ya'll liked the trip," Engineer smiled, taking a sip from a can of cactus juice gotten from god knows where. The pyromaniac thrusted their fist up in the air and chanted happy murmurs. The bostonian next to them grinned brightly and followed after with loud roaring whoops.