CHAPTER 4

Jack was very surprised to wake up. He had been certain when he passed out in Rebecca's car that it would be the last thing he would ever see. His eyes scanned the room. It had never occurred to him that heaven would be owned by a gay college student. He tried to sit up, but found himself too weak to do so. He resigned himself to just laying there.

He was in a small, messy livingroom. Various books and papers were strewn about. Stacks of DVDs surrounded the TV. Feather boas and strange hats were spread out on a table. Blood-soaked towels and sheets littered the floor. Music was playing in a nearby room.

"Is someone there?" he asked aloud.

A moment passed before he heard the sound of someone scurrying towards him. Next thing he knew, a young man with long unkempt blonde hair, wearing thin glasses was looming over him. His hair was damp, like he'd just gotten out of the shower.

"You're awake!"

"Yes," said Jack. "Who are you?"

The man adjusted his glasses. "My name's Gabriel. Rebecca, my sister, left you here. Well, sort of. Either way, you're safe."

"What happened to me?"

"Well. When she brought you here, you were unconscious, which is not surprising considering how much blood you lost. Trying to help you was... quite an adventure. I'm still a couple years away from my medicinae doctor, but I think I did a reasonably good job on you, didn't I? How are you feeling, by the way?"

Jack did not answer, but rather tried to sit himself up.

"I don't recommend you do that," said Gabriel, "You're not in great shape right now. I would... I would advise you to take it easy for at least a couple of days, till we know everything is going to be fine."

"I do not have time for that. I must leave immediately," Jack said weakly.

"I doubt you're even capable. Look, just stay put for now. I imagine you must be hungry. I'll fix something for you. Let's see... um, do you like Pop Tarts?"

Jack looked confused. "What?"

"Never had one? Well, I'll heat some up. I don't know anyone who doesn't like them, I can't imagine you'd be an exception."

At that, Gabriel disappeared from Jack's sight. The Samurai could hear him moving around in what was presumably the kitchen, singing along in a beautiful countertenor to the music which still played in the other room.

"...I could say 'bella, bella,' even say 'wunderbar.' Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are..."

It took some effort, but Jack finally managed to sit up. He grimaced from the pain, for though he was bandaged, stitched and sealed up, his body had undergone quite a bit of damage. Gabriel raced back to his side.

"Easy there. Do you want a pillow or something? I'm sorry I didn't think of it last night, but I was under some considerable stress. You're the first person I've had to treat." He chuckled slightly. "I don't suppose you want any Botox injections? Those I can do with no trouble at all."

Jack grew even more confused. "No, thank you. I will be fine."

Gabriel returned to the kitchen. After a moment he called back: "What do you want in your coffee?"

Coffee was an item the Samurai was familiar with, due to the time he had spent in Arabia. Though he hadn't thought very highly of it when he was eight years old, he was willing to give it a second try. He wracked his brain, attempting to recall what people put in coffee. His final response left poor Gabriel somewhat taken aback.

"Amber," he said.

Gabriel paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond.

"Ah... how about I just put some sugar in it for you."

Just then there was a knock on the front door. Gabriel frowned, uncertain of whom it was. He answered cautiously. To his relief, it was his sister.

"Rebecca! I thought you were arrested!"

The chemical stench of her freshly applied hairspray was strong as she entered the room, wearing a long blue dress and a large white hat. With the exception of a just-noticeable limp, none of the previous night's travails were apparent on her face nor her body. "Donald came and bailed me out at about five AM. Fortunately he still doesn't know what I did to his car. You and I are going to have to sink that thing into the Seine later. But since all the evidence was in there, the cops don't have much to hold me on. How's Jack?"

"He's awake," said Gabriel, smiling.

"Oh, good!" She stepped quickly forward. "Jack! You're okay! I was worried about you last night."

"I apologize," Jack said tediously.

Rebecca started to laugh. "Ah! Isn't he adorable?"

At that moment the toaster chimed, signaling that the pastries were ready to be eaten. Gabriel ran to get them.

"I was just making breakfast," he said, directing his words at Rebecca. "Do you want some?"

"I'll take some coffee," she said, trying to peer into the kitchen and see what he had made.

He returned to the livingroom holding two Pop Tarts and a napkin, which he promptly handed to Jack.

"Oh, heaven," she said, "You're not actually giving him Pop Tarts are you?"

"What's wrong?" asked Gabriel, lingering at the sofa.

"How can you feed him that trash? Couldn't you make him some real food?"

"I lived off of these my whole freshmen year. It's fine, trust me; I'm a Ph.D."

Jack accepted the strange lozenges of bread and artificial frosting and eyed them suspiciously. Hesitantly, he raised one to his mouth and took a very small bite. Immediately he wondered how something could be so good and yet so utterly vile simultaneously.

"We went back to the apartment," Rebecca began, changing the subject. "It doesn't actually look that bad. Once Donald gets the window replaced it should be fine."

Gabriel began to pass out mugs of coffee. "What happened to your apartment?"

"Didn't I tell you? It was those same guys that shot Jack. They came looking for him in my apartment."

"Wait, what was he doing in your apartment?"

"He was staying there while he was waiting for a new kimono thingy. That's why he's almost naked. Didn't you notice?"

"Wait... he showed up naked at your apartment?"

"Forgive my interruption," said Jack, trying again to move from the sofa, "But as we are on the subject, did the lady at the shop not indicate that my gi would be finished by now?"

"She did," said Rebecca, "But surely you don't plan on going there in your condition?"

"I fear that I must. I require my gi before I can continue on my journey."

Gabriel sighed. "I really must advise against it. You nearly died last night, in fact it's only due to a series of remarkable coincidences that you didn't."

"I thank you for your concern," Jack replied, "But I have faced death many times before, and I expect this will not be the final instance."

"Look, I know you are a busy man," said Gabriel, "But you've been badly injured, and - I am sorry to say - you were not treated under the most sanitary conditions, or by the most qualified of physicians. If you should get an infection, or if something else were to go wrong, it would be best for you to be here when it does, so that it could be handled most effectively."

Jack responded by standing up. The task took some obvious effort, and it required even more for him to conceal how much pain it caused.

"I... will be fine," he said, obviously strained.

Rebecca sighed. "I really didn't think you'd be up to going out. Donald took my Peugeot to that thing he has to go to..."

"I think most people call it 'work,'" Gabriel said.

"No, no. It's that other thing he does. That thing where they all dress up like dorks and act like fuck-ups..."

"SCA?"

"I think that's it. Except the letters are all different. But it's almost the same thing. It has three of them." She returned her attentions to Jack. "Anyway... I took a cab here. If I'm going to take you to Djinny's then that means..." she sighed forlornly. "Ah, hell..."

The damaged Citroën zoomed through the air, high above the streets, across the city. Halfway to their destination the driver's-side door fell off, an event which did not surprise anyone in the slightest.

At the dress shop, Djinny was in mourning. Three of her friends had been killed the previous evening. For the occasion she was clothed in a floor-length gold lamé skirt, slit up each side, and a bodice made from fourteen yards of expertly draped black ribbon.

Her face lit up like a Paulin lantern when the two weary figures came through the door. The Famous Samurai Jack looked like he had been through a typhoon. He was pale and shaken and did not move with his customary grace. Further evidence of the previous night's misadventure was provided by the obvious bloodstains on his white fundoshi. Rebecca stayed dutifully at his side.

"Hey there, Djinny," she said, unenthusiastic. "Is that kimono thing ready?"

Djinny nodded. "Glad to see you again. Looks like you had a bit of a situation since last time."

"I guess you could say that," answered Rebecca.

"Well," said Djinny, standing up, "Why don't you two sit down. The kimono's in the back; I'll just go get it for you."

Rebecca and Jack did as suggested, taking the chairs nearest to the counter. Djinny retreated to the back area of the shop.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Because I don't want to send you out again if you're too badly injured to even protect yourself."

"It is simply a matter of staying out of trouble for a few days. I think I will manage."

Rebecca nodded. "By the way... I think I should apologize for my behavior yesterday. You know, taking you back to my apartment and not mentioning that I was married..."

Jack smiled. "It is forgotten. And I must thank you for saving my life."

Rebecca smiled back. "Well, I didn't do all the work. If Gabriel had..." her smile suddenly began to fade. "...What... Dj... Djinny?"

She was staring at something over his shoulder. Jack turned to find Djinny, positioned behind the counter with a humungous sub-machine gun aimed right for his head.

"I'm sorry about this, both of you," she said. "But it really is a lot of money."

Rebecca's eyes widened in realization. "No one else knew Jack was with me. You were the one that sent the bounty hunters to my apartment!"

"That's right. They were friends of mine."

"Djinny! How could you? This man - he's going to save the world from Aku!"

"I know, I know. But everyone has their price. Even though mine is terribly high, Aku still managed to meet it. Rebecca, do you realize what a googolplex is? A googol is one followed by a hundred zeros. A googolplex is one followed by a googol zeros. You see my problem. It would be kind of nice to live in a world without Aku, I'll admit, but with that kind of money..."

"Oh, Djinny. I expected better of you."

"Come on, Rebecca. Don't pretend you aren't at least slightly interested. Tell you what: you help me make the delivery, I'll split the money with you. Fifty-fifty."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "Fifty-fifty?"

Djinny nodded. "No need to be greedy when there's plenty to go 'round."

Rebecca sighed. She looked over at Jack, who had not moved throughout the entire exchange. His face was completely devoid of expression. If someone were looking very closely, they might have noticed his hands moving ever so slightly, working to reach his sword in the most discreet fashion possible.

Though Rebecca did not see this, it wouldn't have affected her answer in the first place: "No."

She said it firmly, rising from her chair. "There's no way. I did not go out last night, hijack two ambulances, rob a medical school, destroy a car, get brutalized by the police, and have sex with a guy named Face to save this man just so you could turn him over to Aku."

Djinny altered her countenance. "Eww. Not Face Face? That nasty old hobo?"

Before Rebecca could answer in the affirmative, Jack sprang into action, drawing his sword and leaping into the air. He let out a battle cry that would send Placido Domingo into fits of jealousy. The two women gaped.

Just as Jack was about to land on her, Djinny recovered her senses and pulled the trigger on her gun. To her surprise nothing happened.

"Ah, shit!" she cried, realizing the problem. She had left on the safety.

As she fumbled with the device, trying to fix the problem, the blade of the Jack's sword flashed by. The gun landed on the carpet with a dull thud. Djinny's top right hand bounced off the wall and slid harmlessly to the floor.

The blue alien screamed angrily as purple blood gushed from the stump of her wrist. "You little shit! It'll take like six months for that to grow back!" Enraged, she began to search for another weapon. She located on her desk a letter opener and a ball-point pen. Using her good hands, she grabbed for them.

Seeing this, Jack managed to prevent her from obtaining the letter opener, which to him seemed the more dangerous of the two items. Unfortunately Djinny still had the pen at her disposal, and with all the strength she could muster, she used it to impale the Samurai's wrist. He let out a small cry.

Rebecca jumped at the sound of her hero in distress, and instantly she set about finding means to end the situation. She ran around the room like a headless chicken as she searched for some kind of weaponry to use in his defense. Meanwhile, Jack and Djinny grappled at the desk. Although he was considerably weakened by the previous night's events, Djinny was fortunately not very strong. However, she did have other advantages. When she finally decided that she had had enough of wrestling about with the Samurai, Djinny put a swift, unpleasant end to the brawl by taking her most obvious advantage and brutally slamming her knee into Jack's groin. His eyes widened in pain and shock, and he collapsed to the floor.

The alien saw her chance and began running to retrieve her gun. She did not notice Rebecca sneak up behind her holding a chair. Although it took Rebecca two false starts, she did at last succeed in swinging the item against Djinny's head, leaving the chair broken and the alien lying in a puddle of purple blood.

Jack's wrist was bound with a scrap of gold fabric stolen from Djinny's shop, and he was back in the Citroën with Rebecca, sputtering across the sky. Rebecca explained her current plan.

"We'll stop by Gabriel's house again, since being stabbed through the wrist can't be good for you, and then, I suppose, we'll take it from there."

"It is not necessary," said Jack.

"Sure it is."

Jack sighed with despondent agitation. "I suppose the woman never really constructed my gi."

"I doubt it. But don't worry; last night, when I was with Donald-"

Just then the car jolted, the result of a minor accident. Rebecca had never been first-class at driving carefully, and she presumed it must have been her fault. She looked in the cracked remains of the rear-view mirror to see if the other driver was going to make her pull over. She was suddenly struck with a sensation like her cardiovascular system had been switched into overdrive.

"Oh, fucking hell," she said, adrenaline levels rising. "It's Djinny!"

Jack turned to look. Sitting in the front seat of a gorgeous yellow Ferrari was Djinny, glaring forward, purple blood running down her face. She floored the gas a second time, knocking the sad little Citroën frontward a few more feet.

Rebecca tried not to panic. "Okay, let's see... I've got it. Hold on, Jack, things are going to get crazy. Oh, and buckle your seatbelt. We don't have a windshield."

Rebecca floored the gas and switched gears, sending her car speeding away. The Ferrari followed suit.

The Citroën began to drift downwards, weaving through the maze of cars, hoping to lose its stalker. There was only one advantage the Citroën had over the Ferrari, and that was its diminutive size. Rebecca used this to her fullest advantage as she rapidly descended through each layer of autos like a scuba diver through schools of fish, hoping to lose sight of the big yellow shark which nevertheless managed to stay close behind.

The ground was getting closer. At the last possible second Rebecca jerked the stick upward, preventing the car from crashing into the asphalt. She hoped that Djinny might not be able to copy the move and that her car would go crumpling into the pavement, but it was not to be. Rebecca cursed under her breath. Her car was already coughing along at top speed. There was no way that she could out-race the Ferrari. She began to frantically search for a small alleyway or other narrow space she could squeeze through.

Jack seemed to read her mind. In perfect minimalist fashion he directed her attention to a public garden with a very narrow pathway surrounded by trees. It was intended for foot traffic only. Rebecca turned the car so quickly that it almost caved in on itself and sent it sputtering toward the cobblestone path.

The Ferrari halted on a dust particle and hovered in midair like a hummingbird while the driver tried to decide her next move. Even for her small and aerodynamic car, the path was too narrow and canopied by bay trees, preventing any possibility that she could even follow from above. Djinny's black painted lips twisted into a terrible snarl. She forced the car straight upwards, not caring one bit about the mess she was making in traffic, and began to wait. The little grey car would have to emerge at some point. She could wait till then.

Jack gazed out the window as Rebecca drove.

"You should stop," he said plainly.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because your friend is waiting for us to come out. Her yellow car is very easy to see, even through all the trees."

"But if we stop, won't she just park her car and come for us on foot?"

"If that is the case, we can easily drive away. But I do not think that she can see us."

Rebecca agreed and turned the car off, causing it to sink to the ground. Here she was, alone in a parked car with The Famous Samurai Jack. She decided that she would use this opportunity and attempt to strike up an amorous conversation, hoping that all the excitement and her impressive skill in saving him might have moved the steadfast rock. She smiled her most delectable smile and placed her hands on her hips, trying to accentuate her small waist. She began to chatter with the jaded statue beside her.