NOT PRESENT I TELL YE!!

Chapter 3: The Prancing BMX

"Jerry, Wikkin, you don't understand. You cannot come with us," Joe pleaded.

"And why not?" asked Wikkin.

"Why not? I… because… you see…"

"Listen," said Dan, "we will give you 4 luscious, tender, chocolaty ho-hos if you leave us alone," he said, dangling the packets in front of the nerd's faces.

"That won't do it," said Jerry. "We know about the sticker, and we know that you're leaving the area of the nerds for possibly a long, long time, and it has something to do with the sticker. Come on, it's kinda obvious. Seeing the way that Bill was staring at the sticker, we knew it was no ordinary sticker, and could be dangerous. Then, knowing Greg, and seeing your long talk with him, we knew you were going. It wasn't that hard to place the pieces of the puzzle together."

"Joe, Greg did say to talk to those who you can trust, and I doubt very much that these two are spies of Saion," Dan said.

"All right, you can join us if you wish," sighed Joe. "And we're making our way to Trippin' Dell, if you must know. But keep a low profile. I don't know who that gangster was, but he was obviously a spy of Saion, looking for this sticker. And talk to no one, if possible."

After more walking, they ended up in a fort. This was a casual, hang out fort that many people of many clans hung out at. It was known as The Prancing BMX. They had been trekking for a long time and needed a break and a couple of chocolate milks or 'artificial fruit drinks.'

They walked up to the gatekeeper. "What's the password? Heheh, just kiddin'. Nerds, eh? Haven't seen these folk up here in a while. What's your names and business?"

"I am Mo. This is Jan, Kerry, and Fikkin," Joe said, thinking a little too quickly for his own good. The gatekeeper looked at them quizzically. "Er… and our business is our own."

"Very well, Mo. Ain't Jan and Kerry girl's names?"

"Me kam fram China, me have odd name!" said Jerry.

"Very well, go right ahead," said the gatekeeper.

As they walked in, they saw many people of all sorts hustling and bustling around. Most of them were skateboarders. In fact, they were all skateboarders. The foursome sat down at some stools, and Jerry and Wikkin ordered some chocolate milk. Joe and Dan merely a place to sit down and chill.

After some time, Joe began to notice a man in the corner, munching on caramel dittos. Joe beckoned a bartender, so to speak.

"Excuse me, who is that man in the corner?" he asked.

"Him? Oh, that's Rider. Best bloody skater around. He can pull 360˚'s on flat ground!" All of this made no sense to Joe whatsoever, but he nodded and pretended he understood.

*Four chocolate milks later…*

"Haahaha! Oooh, that's a good one!" were the words that came out of Jerry's sugar-high mouth. "Wahoooo! Heheheee!"

"Yeah, well that's NOTHING," laughed Wikkin. "This one dude, Bill Bo was his name, oh man, hahaha, it was great! He was making this big ol' speech, and, hold up," he laughed, pausing to take a big chug of chocolate milk.

"You better stop your friends before they say too much," said a voice behind Joe. It was Rider. "There some strange people around here."

"Haha, ok, will Bill was making a speech, and then he completely screwed up, so he took a sticker out of his pocket, and to avoid getting made fun of, he—"

Joe, thinking quickly, jumped up on a table and started making up a rhyme to distract the people.

"Once there was a dude name Corey,

And he went out with his lass.

But he was really horney,

So he stuck his willy up her—" Someone kicked the table. Joe lost his balance. He tumbled. He teetered. And then he fell, down, down, down, towards the hard floor. While he was falling, the Not Present sticker slipped from his pocket. It fell onto the floor, and Joe landed headfirst, right onto the sticky side.

The world went into a haze. The people walking and shouting was one big mess, and he couldn't make anything out. But he did vaguely notice him being lifted up and carried away to someplace. Then the sticker was ripped off his forehead and reality slowly came back to him.

He was sitting somewhere, away from the confused mess of the Prancing BMX. Rider was there, looking very troublesomed. Joe noticed his appearance for the first time. He had brownish-blondish hair that was spiked with only water, so it flopped down some. Rider was fairly tall, but not skinny. His weight looked very healthy and average, and he was pretty muscular. Joe also noticed the skateboard on his side. It looked like it was frequently used, but carefully tended.

"Are you listening?" asked Rider. Joe snapped backed to reality. "Listen, that was the dumbest possible thing you could have done. Why did you do that? It'd be worse to let your friends keep on talking!"

"I…I didn't mean to," said Joe timidly. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, I know. But, you must listen to me and listen carefully. The gangsters are after you. We need to leave here A.S.A.P." There was a loud whoop in the background. "They're coming. Let's hurry!" They ran off. Dan, Jerry, and Wikkin were waiting for them. They took off.

"Joe, are you sure we can trust this guy?" asked Dan.

"I don't know, but it doesn't like we have much choice. Oh, if only Greg were here…" The whoops got louder.

"Come here!" yelled Rider. "We can climb in this secret cove!" They did so.

"Don't make a noise," whispered the skater.

After what seemed like an eternity, the gangsters rode by. Joe could here them stop soon afterwards.

"Damn, where are they?" asked one.

"I they lost us."

"We lost them, you fool."

"No, remember in all those movies with the car chases, and then they go like 'I think we lost 'em!' Like that."

"Shut up, fool, and keep looking! Split up!"

A gangster started walking in the direction of the five. Everything was dead quiet. The gangster came closer, and sniffed the air.

"Four nerds, one skater…" muttered the hooligan.

Wikkin glanced at Jerry and mouthed, "I have gas." Jerry shook his head. Wikkin closed his eyes. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not hold back his gas. A loud, bubbly, tuba of a fart emitted. This was like a tuba chamber orchestra playing a their lowest note at fortissimo on steroids. The gangster turned towards them at let out a loud, screechy whoop. All the other gangsters ran in on their bikes and surrounded the five.

"Wikkin, get a plug for your ass," suggested Rider.

Two riders lunged at Joe from different sides. Rider kicked one and whacked the other with his board. In came three, but with a big spin with an outstretched board, they flew back.

"C'mon dudes, all at once, aight? One…"

Joe gulped.

"Two…"

Rider looked around anxiously.

"THREE!" All nine gangsters on their bikes rode into the five. Rider was hacking this way and that, but there were too many. One got in towards Joe. He swung his fist downwards and slugged the nerd with a giant smack. Everything went black from there.