*Chapter 12: Whack Job*
After hearing of the Dunlikus snooping around on their territory and mission, the Warner Coven became a little unnerved and on edge. It simmered down a little once the Brain pointed out that having a conflict here and now would most likely attract way too much attention from the local mortals.
The Goodfeathers meanwhile, decided to take a load off for just a brief time and indulge themselves. Discreetly, of course.
In another dark corner of town, not acknowledged by any of its denizens, was a series of rusted looking places where only shady-looking people were patrons of, not unlike the beach area that Rita and Runt visited earlier. Situated in a small dead tree next to one of the buildings, was a thatched enclosure with a sign that read 'The Bamboo Blood Bank'. As its named suggested, it was a last stop gathering place for the smaller vampires, and more importantly, it was happened to be happy hour.
Bobby, Pesto, and Squit suavely entered the joint, nodding their heads to the mourning dove barkeep.
"What'll it be, fellas?" he said heartily after Squit tossed him a tiny leather pouch filled with gold pebbles.
"Somethin' real strong, ya know what I mean?" Bobby replied. "We'll be here all night."
"You got it, mac."
As the barkeep went about his business, Pesto suddenly scrunched up his beak as if there was an unpleasant odor in the air.
"Wha...what the..." he rasped as he vigorously inhaled the air, his feathers ruffling. "What is that?!"
Also picking up on the scent that was making Pesto upset, Bobby and Squit looked around for its origins. Then they saw a small group of birds seated in a corner being rather boisterous and bawdy. All three of the squabs' faces paled as they instantly recognized them.
"...is that who I think it is?" Squit whispered.
"What the heck are they doin' here?!" Pesto hissed.
"They got in earlier today." the barkeep murmured to the pigeons, clearly not enjoying their company either.
Bobby, wanting to keep the peace, silently took his glass and sipped, sending a telepathic message to his associates to do the same. After all, they were all neighbors here, and it was foolhardy to needlessly start a fight.
Easier said than done on Pesto's part.
Congregating in the corner were the Sparrows, another little vampire group. Although they were pretty much their own separate coven, they often sided with Umlatt and the Dunlikus. They definitely yet indirectly helped their rivals during the War. Since then, they've been occasionally at odds with each other, especially Pesto. The Sparrows' defacto leader, Noodles, had always poked fun at Pesto's relative inability to control his rage when it came to hunting and fighting, which would surely cause a stir and exposure to the morals. Still, this certainly was not the time nor place to start a row, and the Goodfeathers were slightly content to leave well enough alone.
Until...
"Well, well, look who's here!" Noodles crowed. "Our friends from the north east! Didn't expect to see youse in town!"
"Not for long." Bobby replied civilly. "We're on business."
"Must be big business." Chicky-Butt commented. "Word out on the street is that half of your whole dang clan is here."
The Goodfeathers covertly exchanged dark looks. Nobody in their neck of the woods or outside the coven was supposed to really know about that, especially if they had been fraternizing with a known enemy and proven to be quite untrustworthy.
"Can't speak for that." Bobby replied with a shrug, still keeping things civil.
"Sure, sure, sure." Noodles chortled, seemingly not caring about the whole matter. "Just don't let Mr. Crabby Feathers over there ruin it for ya!"
He and the rest of his gang erupted into laughter, while Bobby cast a narrow-eyed and muted fury side-glance with Pesto glaring and Squit looking quite uncomfortable.
"Though I'd tell ya, he sure did earn the title of 'Most Vicious Vamp-Boid of the Century' a thousand times over." Noodles continued in a somewhat complimentary tone. "Y'all saw what he did to Petrov's guys that one time, am I right?"
"How 'bout you button yer beak there, Noodles?" Pesto growled lowly.
"Say what?" Noodles replied blankly.
"I said, why don't you button yer beak?! Nobody around here likes a chatter box."
"For cryin' out loud, what's wit'chu? Can't nobody kid around here anymore?"
"Sometimes you don't sound like youse kiddin' around, especially when you got a lotta people here..."
"Jeeze, sorry. I didn't mean to offend ya..."
Noodles didn't sound very apologetic, which made Squit a touch more nervous. Bobby on the other hand was using his influence to try and keep a lid on the range of emotions flowing through the atmosphere.
"I'm sorry too, no problem..." Pesto said in an even tone, waving off Noodles and returning to his beverage.
For a moment, there was a relief as the tension appeared to have died down as quickly as it begun.
"...So now why don't you go take a lousy chill pill?!" Noodles suddenly barked.
In a split second, there was the loud shattering of glass being forcefully smashed against the counter.
"YOU BEAKIN' MUTT!" Pesto roared.
Bobby and Squit instantly flew to their viciously infuriated associate, and held him back as his eyes began glowing bright red with ferocious rage. The barkeep wisely stayed out of the way while Noodles' own associates stood up and walked cautiously to his side in a defensive manner. Bobby and Squit managed to get their enraged companion to go back to the theater and cool off.
"...keep 'im here!" the violet headed pigeon hissed in a tone low enough for only his partners to hear, before finally going out the door.
"Come on!" badgered Noodles. "YOU WANNA FIGHT, TOUGH GUY?!"
"Sorry, Noodles." Squit profusely apologized. "We've had a bit of a long night and when we have those back-to-back, he gets a little aggravated."
"A little aggravated?! Are you nuts?! You should teach that guy some common manners! Yo, Bobby; what's right is right! Ya know what I'm sayin'?"
Although the blue headed pigeon appeared to be completely calm and collected, there was a hidden irritation behind that mask.
"Now, now, now..." he said with a tone of trying to clear the air. "You insulted him a little bit; you were a lil' out of order yourself. Maybe just a little bit."
"Naw, I didn't insult nobody!" Noodles protested dismissively.
"Why don't we cool it, fellas? C'mon, let's have some drinks, huh?" Squit said quickly, trying to help Bobby keep everything smooth. "Drinks on the house."
The barkeep nodded in earnest, only too happy to keep the peace.
"Have a drink with me!" Noodles called out.
"No, no, no, no..." the other two Goodfeathers declined.
"Noodles, drinks are on the house." Bobby firmly insisted.
xxxxxx
A few hours later, everything seemed to calm down. Calm enough for everyone else to move on, leaving only Noodles, Bobby, and Squit. Bobby had covertly managed to convince the barkeep to leave him the keys to the place and allow him to lock up when the sun rose. Despite their best judgement, Noodles' associates went off without him as he was deep in a very animated conversation with Bobby. Meanwhile, Squit was just content to hang around and listen in.
Then a few minutes later, the front door of the establishment silently and slowly opened with the use of one wing, by a very peeved looking Pesto.
(Now Playing: Atlantis by Donovan)
Squit instantly noticed his arrived and quickly sprinted over to him. Pesto surprisingly simply pushed him to the side quite calmly and passively in the same manner of which he opened the front door. As Noodles was too focused on Bobby and their discussion on vampire politics, he didn't even notice or sense Pesto quietly coming up behind with his eyes turning a deep blood red and glowing intensely as he worked up his inner rage. Then, a few seconds after casually putting his glass goblet down, Bobby - along with Pesto - seized hold of an unsuspecting Noodles, and violently hurled him to the floor and began mercilessly pummeling him.
"GET THE DOOR!" Bobby rasped as he and Pesto inflicted a barrage of kicks and punches upon their rival.
The grey headed pigeon scrambled to the front door and with a look of apprehension, hastily turned the lock. Bobby and Pesto continued their beat down with Pesto being the more vicious between the two.
"I WANNA RIP HIS BEAKIN', SCRAWNY HEAD OFF!" Pesto hissed between his gritted fanged teeth. "LET'S RIP IT!"
From an outside view of the glowing yet covered bar window, two black shapes tore a third in two and a spat of blood spurted onto the glass and coverings along with what sickeningly sounded like a ceramic plate shattering.
Five minutes later, in an anxious flurry of movement, Squit gathered a couple of tablecloths from the other booths and threw them down beside Noodles' corpse.
"What are we gonna do, fellas?" Squit fretted with genuine concern in his voice. "His crew's bound to come lookin' for him."
"Not to worry, Squit." Bobby assured his associate. "I've got it all worked out. Get me some more tablecloths."
"And get that schnook over here!" Pesto added.
(End Music)
Fowlmouth came rolling right below the bar with the limo after being signaled by Squit. Then Bobby and Pesto came flying down holding Noodles' wrapped up remains in their wings. Fowlmouth was fit to be tied.
"Holy crap, did we off somebody?!" he exclaimed.
"Shuddup, and pop the trunk!" Pesto barked.
"Okay, okay!"
Fowlmouth scramble to the driver's seat to open the trunk, where his two bosses dumped the remains with a clatter. The juvenile rooster cringed when he caught a glimpse of the shattered corpse before Squit closed the lid of the trunk.
"Eeessh, what the hell are we gonna do with that now?!" Fowlmouth exclaimed again.
"You are gonna drive us to the Redwoods, and plant this mook. Capice?" Bobby directed.
"Uh, sure man. No prob. Gotta borrow a shovel from pops..."
xxxxxx
Hours later in the dark and still of the cold night, the small group were deep in the Redwood forest where only nocturnal creatures were presently active. The Goodfeathers sat perched on the hood of the limo and watched as Fowlmouth toiled away at digging a hole into the earth.
"Make sure you dig real deep there!" Pesto demanded.
"..suh..sure thing, boss." Fowlmouth puffed as he hauled up piles of dirt. "I'm almost-"
Suddenly with a sickening cracking sound, Fowlmouth's left arm fell off from his frame.
"Aw, what the?! C'mon!" he crowed. "First my hand, and now my freaking arm?!"
Squit flew over to the hole to inspect it while Fowlmouth tried desperately to reattach his arm.
"Eh, looks good enough." he announced to his partners.
"Fine." Bobby replied. Then he turned to their ghoul. "Yo coo, get the garbage, dump it, and light it."
While trying to keep himself balanced, Fowlmouth wobbled over to the trunk to retrieve Noodles' remains, still all bundled up in tablecloths.
"Man, this is bull! How am I supposed to work like this?!" the juvenile rooster ranted as he dropped the bundle into the deep hole and tried getting a flame going on a simple plastic lighter. "Look like The Fugitive over here!"
The Goodfeathers watched as Noodles' remains erupted into flames the instant Fowlmouth dumped the lighter into the hole. A few minutes had gone by before the pigeons decided it was time to clear out as Fowlmouth attempted once more to reattach his arm.
"Alright, cover it up and let's get goin'." Bobby declared.
"Urgh, dammit..." Fowlmouth pouted as he tried shoveling all the dirt back into the smoldering pit with one arm.
After he was finally done, they got back into the limo with Fowlmouth ranting about not having four-wheel drive on the vehicle.
AN: Sorry if this is short. But other than that, hope everyone had a Happy New Year. Here's hoping that 2021 makes a better year. :)