Chapter 5: Marvin vs. Mages, Round 2!/Byara and Jeric are back
Big props to the readers who, after two months, are still reading this fanfic. Sorry for the delay. Blame it on the idiots.
More props to Alex, who lent me the Alphasmart to type this chapter up, Jake, Ryu, and Kraken for beta-ing this chapter, my local CompUSA for being patient, my friends at the Dimensional Rift forum for egging me on and being a source of laughter in an otherwise bile-infested day. And special thanks for the RP forum for putting up with me.
One more note: I'm certain about which states the adventurers are traveling through, but, not the towns and cities themselves. So, in 2005, many of the towns and cities have different names, and most of them are fictional. Bear with me, I rarely have enough time on the computers nowadays to do solid research.
No more thanks. More story.
This chapter starts at 12:00 PM on September 1, 2005. Events occur in real time. And I'm not plugging anything.
There were screams in the forest. Those screams were human, and they appeared to be coming from Marvin, who was having one hell of a time bandaging himself up.
Grimacing in pain, he wrapped the last wound in a bandage, and put the first-aid supplies away.
"Let's see... 4 clips, 7 bullets each for my Colt, 28 .45 bullets. 3 boxes of shells, 8 shells each, 8 in my shotgun, 24 shells." Marvin used this technique to ignore the pain. "3 clips, 20 bullets each, 20 in my Glock. Sixty 9 mm bullets." Marvin put away his weapons, and lay down on the forest floor.
"Mr. Friendly!" Marvin said. "Guard me until I wake up." The floating, talking battleaxe did so.
12:25 PM, Bennington, New York
Byara Halebein was a native New Yorker, and she was familiar with most of the streets. She had acquired her knowledge from her job as a journalist. Byara was 29, going on 30, and she was an anchor on Channel 15 News for the 5, 6, and 10 PM broadcasts. She had intelligence and charisma. Yet, she felt she was missing something from her life. Oh, sure, she had plenty of action at bank robberies- at this one bank robbery, the robbers shot at the newscasters.
"GET A CAR FOR THIS, YOU IDIOTIC COFFEE-SWILLING AUTOMATONS!!" the robber shouted before firing a .22 shell into the back of their newsvan, a shot which was intended for Byara. The police decided that this moron couldn't hit the earth if he tried, and SWAT teams stormed the building. They arrested him, and found out he had a wandering eye. But Byara still had a rush of adrenaline, even from people who couldn't even hit elephants.
But today wasn't like any other.
Byara walked into her office, reminiscing about this little event. She sat down in her chair, placing her cup of coffee on a nearby coaster, and sat down to check her e-mail. She typed in the web address to her e- mail account, and typed in her account name and password. She saw three messages: -NEW- From: candi362: you there? -NEW- From: Sister: meeting place -NEW- From: Cindy: Fw: Fw: FW: fw: FW: Fw: 2day is smak day!!!
Byara quickly deleted the first and last message, and read the e-mail from her sister. From: jamer4evr@msn.com To: bhnws15@channel15.net Hey sis!! Wanna go to new Mexico? They've got killer tanning booths over there, and it looks so beautifl!! -Kyara SUBSCRIBE TO MSN.COM CAUSE BILLY BOY SAID SO DAMMIT!!
Byara typed in her response. Sure, I guess. How is Mother doing? Is she fine? And what about Niggles the puppy? -Byara
She would have said more, but then, some jerk in leather armor barged into her office. Byara quickly dispatched hm by spraying mace into his eyes, causing him to scream and fall down in surprise.
"EVIL DEMON SPRAY!!" the intruder howled. Byara silenced him (or made him screech, whichever) with a well-placed kick to the groin. The intruder crumpled into the fetal position.
Byara ran out of her office. "What's going on here!?" she said to a man running past her, his hair aflame.
Byara sighed, and noticed a thief trying to win free candy with the "Upward Crane" game at the vending machines. Byara growled, and delivered a swift kick to below his belt. He howled, and went unconscious.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?" Byara screamed. No one listened. Byara, to get someone's attention, put out a nearby flame with a nearby fire extinguisher. A thief came up right behind her, but, she was the quicker, and blasted him with the extinguisher full force. The extinguisher ran out, so Byara cold-cocked him on the head with the empty canister. The thief became unconscious, and celebrated by falling on the floor and taking a short nap. In anger, she decided to quit work early today. (Tough broad. ;))
She took the stairs down, and she saw a puddle of blood.
"OH, GOD! Who did this!?" Byara screamed. She wasn't motherly, she just liked things neat and orderly. She sidestepped the pool of blood, and continued down the stairs. You may be wondering why Byara didn't have her priorities in order. As a newscaster, she was desensitized to bloody crime scenes. Partly because of her older brother, back in the '90s when she was a teenager. Her older brother collected bugs, tore them apart, and was fascinated with death and the injury of the human body. She also listened to Kyara's band practice, which promised to "ROCK THE HELL OUT OF YOU ALL!!" with obscenely loud music. And they did.
She made it to the first floor. Police officers were rushing by her, but one stopped to question Byara.
"Miss! Stop!" the officer said.
"Yes?" Byara asked.
"What's going on up there?"
"Meh. My coworkers are being monkeys, I suppose." Byara shrugged.
"Ma'am, there have been phone calls from up there that claim that some nuts from the Middle Ages are pillaging and looting your office!"
"Oh, so is that what it was?" Byara said. "By the way, you look cute..."
The officer began to open his mouth, then close it, then open it.
"Don't worry. I nailed three of them while I was escaping. I wonder who did it..." Byara walked away and out of the building. Meanwhile, four stories high, Channel 15 News was on fire.
Something clicked in her mind. She thought back to the news reports she had heard this morning. Two people in flashy, ancient garments shot to death? A demon in a New Jersey forest? The Starbucks/Meat Pie store run by those guys with bad teeth and broadswords on the corner? It all came together.
Byara decided to get the hell out of Dodge.
3:00 PM -------------
Jeric Halper's Greyhound bus came to a stop in Bennington, New York. Jeric had dreams, but this time, he dreamt that he had a big target painted on the back of his head. Oh, yeah, and he also dreamt that Carmen Electra fell in love with him after he gave her a rather large diamond.
Byara, carrying two suitcases, got on the bus and took a seat right next to the sleeping Jeric. Jeric responded to Byara's arrival by shifting his sleeping position and drooling on her shoulder.
The driver of the Greyhound Bus, Mr. Mulcutty, was a 75-year-old man on vacation from leisure in South Florida. "Dagnabbit! Why does this goldarn bus have to leave at 3:15 PM! Why not 3:10 or 3:05? In MY day..."
The passengers silently groaned, and looked for the nearest reading material. Mulcutty's Ranting Time was a regular feature on this particular Greyhound, which meant that the bus had 15 minutes before driving away. Byara sighed, and tried to fall asleep. Fifteen minutes later, the bus was cruising down Main Street at exactly 15 MPH. The cars behind him honked.
"Get off the fucking road, you fucking asshole!" one driver screamed.
"Goddammit! It's called a GAS PEDAL, YOU DOWN-SYNDROME AFFECTED JACKASS!" another screamed.
And still, the bus cruised on. At 4:00 PM, the bus was three blocks down the road, and the drivers of the cars, who carried small pistols despite having road rage, fired at the bus. Bullets ricocheted and hit the bus, other cars, and even hit other drivers shooting at the bus, causing Driver War XXVII to break out. The drivers began to shoot at each other, constantly reloading their small guns.
Halfway into Driver War XXVII, Jeric woke up and heard the gunfight. Byara was fast asleep, the drool on her shoulder drying off. Jeric tapped her shoulder, trying to wake Byara.
"Wake up. There's the craziest thing happening right now."
"What is it?" Byara mumbled, half-asleep.
"Drivers from behind us are shooting at each other."
"Seen it." Byara went back to sleep.
"Really?" Jeric said in an astonished tone.
"Yeah. They have these damn Driver Wars monthly, if not more often." "Really? Wow."
"Yeah. This is what happens when you have the court go lax on the gun control bill, and when there aren't any anger management classes."
Jeric nodded his head in fascination.
Meanwhile, the Axis (The Kia, Geo, and Nissan drivers) were winning against the Allies (The Mitsubishi, Toyota, and Pontiac drivers). The ones who ran out of ammo began throwing whatever they could, and getting into fistfights.
And still, the bus drove on. But very slowly.
Marvin woke up, after a six-long hour nap. He checked his watch: 6:07 PM. Good. Marvin picked himself up, and said to Mr. Friendly: "I'm up. Let's go do this."
"Uhm, Marvin, are you sure you want to go do this?"
"I'm getting back at the people who torched my house, remember?"
"But you've been wounded!"
Marvin looked down at the many bandages on his arms and legs. "Well, I am doing pretty well, aren't I? Besides, after the nap, I feel better. The pain from those twinkly things subsided, and these wounds don't hurt as much as they used to."
Mr. Friendly sighed like a defeated parent. "Let's go get them."
Marvin took out his Colt. "Let's go kick some magician ass."
Marvin crept up to the small monastery-like castle. He looked to be counting how many mages, more or less, were inside the place. Marvin counted forty, and then thought of a plan. "All right. Mr. Friendly, I want you to go right up to them and to start attacking. I'll sneak around the back, and then I'll fight them. I'll attack the weaker forces, and when I'm done with them, I'll join you and finish these idiots off."
"Ah. So, you took into account my battleaxe like figure, which those magic missiles cannot hit, so I can attack the mages with little to no resistance whatsoever! Good thinking, Marvin!"
"Huh?" Marvin said. "Oh! Yeah! I'm good at that planning thing, aren't I?"
They separated, Marvin going towards the back door, Mr. Friendly slipping between (between) the front gates.
"Oy! Look! A floating battleaxe!" a mage wearing a brown robe shouted.
"Uh... um..." The battleaxe thought about it for a moment. What would he say to that? "You're correct" or "Bloody well done!" wouldn't fit the occasion.
"Uh... shut it!" The battleaxe said, and attacked.
6:20 PM, Bennington, New York
Driver War XXVII ended at 4:00 PM, when a series of explosions took out the contestants and charred the back of the Greyhound. 30 people died.
At 6:00 PM, the bus had arrived at another section of Bennington. The driver had fallen asleep with his foot barely putting pressure on the gas pedal. They were now going 5 MPH. Somewhere, a terrorist that looked strangely like Dennis Hopper went absolutely batty over the old man's failure to drive above 50 MPH.
"At least a fourth of the people are crazy, stupid, or insane in this town," Byara said to Jeric. "You just have to learn how to talk to them."
"Ah. Really?"
"Being a journalist for four years teaches you something about the human psyche."
"Really? Wow. I've actually have never been to New York, but, what I've heard from friends in the business-" Jeric said friends in the business, because he was paranoid about spies and Big Brotherism. "- was that New York was crazy. I never thought of it like this."
Jeric looked out the window. A parade of 40 people, carrying crossbows and torches were trailing the bus. One or two occasionally shot bolts into the air.
"Byara, look out the window."
Byara did so, and her eyes widened. "Oh, Jesus! Not them again!"
"The men from the office?"
"Yes!"
"Well, hell!"
A teenager, 16, wearing glasses, said to the crowd of thieves: "OH YEAH! ROCK OUT, DUDE!!" He extended his pinky and index finger, and stuck his thumb out. Three seconds later, a suspected spy of the gang of the Gibbering Jackals was lit aflame. He screamed and ran down the block.
Jeric blinked. "Let's hope those laser geek whizzes made a good blaster..." He took out a prototype twin-barreled laser pistol. Designed to be efficient and overly destructive, the HM-6 Laser Project was made to assist soldiers in battle. When fired, the gun would shoot a pale green blast of energy, which would drain the battery whole. The beauty of it was, the gun fired energy from D batteries. The energy blasts shot faster, went longer, and did more damage than the lead-and-gunpowder bullets. It was truly a revolution in the science of warfare. Too bad it was so poorly guarded. All that grant money was going down the drain...
Jeric fired a blast at the thieves. One connected with a thief, who hit the ground hard, his chest and lung area burned to nearly a crisp. The thieves retreated to the back of the Greyhound. Jeric broke away and jumped out of the west window, where it lead to an alley.
"Wait!" Byara yelled, and got off the bus. The thieves thought of this as one very good opportunity to chase after them.
Marvin fired his Colt wildly at the mages. Four in the back room fell to him, now there were four at a time casting spells all at once. Marvin quickly ducked behind a barrel and reloaded his weapon, when a jet of flame hit the barrel that he was hiding behind. It melted. Marvin didn't take this as a very good sign. He jumped forward and shot a mage in the head, and shot another one in the torso when he fell on his left shoulder. He stood up, and the mages began to cast another spell. Marvin shot at one and missed, but the mage fumbled his spell and it disappeared.
The other mage hit Marvin with a magic missile. Marvin howled and shot him twice. The mage went down like a ton of bricks. The fourth began to cast another spell, but Marvin shot him in the leg. The mage howled and fell down, which gave Marvin time to reload his Colt again. The fourth mage came up, and Marvin promptly shot him again.
"Like a bloody shooting gallery," Marvin said out loud. He ran into the west room, where there was a big half-orc and a familiar face...
"Bark!?" Marvin shouted. "Stupid bastard! You should have left for Canada while you had the chance!"
"Canada?" Bark said, rubbing his prosthetic leg.
"Yes, Canada, you idiot!" Marvin said. He motioned to the half-orc. "Who the hell is he?"
"ME GROG! ME SMASH BRAINS OUT!"
"That's very nice. Now, Bark, why the hell did you burn my house down?"
"We did it because there was a bounty on your head."
"WHAT?!"
"A tidy sum of 100 gold."
"Who put you up to it?"
"A mage named- WAIT! You idiot! You think I'm going to tell you?! Prepare to die, Marvin Hadablaster, slaughterer of mages!"
This was GROG's signal to attack. GROG raised his double-axe and rushed to attack Marvin. Marvin, who had six more bullets in his Colt, shot him five times, then shot Bark in the chest. Marvin didn't kill them. Bark fell to the floor, while GROG's armor, an enchanted splint mail, softened the impact, and at the most, only bruised him.
"YOU SHOT ME IN THE LEG! THAT REALLY HURT!" Bark screamed. Marvin reloaded his weapon, and ducked just in time to avoid a slash from the double-axe that certainly would have killed him. Marvin aimed at GROG in the head, fired a bullet which only winged him, to which GROG replied with a clumsy swipe which only scratched the floor.
Bark took this as a sign to leave right now, as Marvin was too busy dealing with GROG to shoot at Bark. Marvin shot GROG in the hand, causing him to howl and drop his weapon. Marvin very quickly expended the last of the ammo on GROG's splint mail and head.
"Where the hell is Bark? I wanna beat him over the head with his fake leg!" Marvin said, and went toward the dungeons. He went down the spiral steps and arrived at a huge locked wooden door. Marvin put away his shotgun, and took out his other pistol.
On the surface, Mr. Friendly was having no trouble with the mages. They kept trying to cast Burning Hands on the battleaxe, but they kept missing and hitting each other.
Meanwhile, in the underground dungeon, Marvin shot the lock and entered, and saw one guard with a spear standing idly.
"You motherfuckers didn't think much about security, didn't you?" Marvin said, and then shot the guard in the chest and arm. The guard crumpled and died. Marvin grabbed a nearby torch and looked around.
"Helloooo? Anyone home?" Marvin yelled out. "Come on! You guys bore me!" he said, in a cocky manner.
Marvin heard a barely audible squeak out of the corner of his ear. He turned, and there he saw a girl lying on the floor, dressed in dirty rags.
Marvin said, in a polite manner: "Friend or Foe?"
"Friend," Arelia squeaked out. She was pale, and looking gaunt from malnourishment.
Marvin grinned. "Just joking." He reached over and opened the cell door.
Arelia stood up, and Marvin pointed his pistol at her.
"Are you a demon or evil being of some sort?"
Arelia's face scrunched up. "No!"
Marvin put away his pistol, and reached out his hand. "Marvin Hadablaster."
"Who's Marvin?"
"It's my first name. Marvin."
"Oh."
"Where are you from?"
Arelia coughed out some blood. "Please, dear sir, try and find some healing potions!"
Marvin looked confused. "Healing potion? The only healing potion I know about isn't in liquid form. It's-"
Arelia pointed to the guard's belt. It held a small bottle of cyan liquid.
"Oh." Marvin scooped it up, uncorked it, and poured it in her mouth. Arelia's condition changed. She no longer was pale, but she still had a slightly bony appearance.
"Oh, thank you, kind sir. I am from a small village in the forest north of here."
"Well, that's-" Marvin said, and then noticed two points coming out of her hair that were her ears.
"Um, Arelia, no offense, but what happened to your ears?"
"I'm an elf. I'm supposed to have pointy ears!"
"Oh. Sorry." Then, after a moment, Marvin asked, "What's an elf?"
"If you can take me back to the town, I can tell you."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Marvin helped her up and out of the dungeons.
As soon as the two reached the outside, Mr. Friendly slaughtered the last mage, who unsuccessfully tried to cast a Fireball and ended up lighting himself on fire.
"This was the most vigorous exercise I've ever had!" Mr. Friendly said. Marvin smiled.
And this chapter will be concluded later. AlphaDunce VO5 is going batty by turning off every five seconds, speaking to me in a telepathic voice, sticking the keys, telling me to listen to Bette Midler songs... I swear to gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghyhgu7gggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg-GAH! Dang key stuck. Bloody machine... so, that's it for right now. Mental note: #10 must be stopped. -Marvin PS: To my beta editors: Find the embarrassing misspelling! Win a prize! Laterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrty6r
Big props to the readers who, after two months, are still reading this fanfic. Sorry for the delay. Blame it on the idiots.
More props to Alex, who lent me the Alphasmart to type this chapter up, Jake, Ryu, and Kraken for beta-ing this chapter, my local CompUSA for being patient, my friends at the Dimensional Rift forum for egging me on and being a source of laughter in an otherwise bile-infested day. And special thanks for the RP forum for putting up with me.
One more note: I'm certain about which states the adventurers are traveling through, but, not the towns and cities themselves. So, in 2005, many of the towns and cities have different names, and most of them are fictional. Bear with me, I rarely have enough time on the computers nowadays to do solid research.
No more thanks. More story.
This chapter starts at 12:00 PM on September 1, 2005. Events occur in real time. And I'm not plugging anything.
There were screams in the forest. Those screams were human, and they appeared to be coming from Marvin, who was having one hell of a time bandaging himself up.
Grimacing in pain, he wrapped the last wound in a bandage, and put the first-aid supplies away.
"Let's see... 4 clips, 7 bullets each for my Colt, 28 .45 bullets. 3 boxes of shells, 8 shells each, 8 in my shotgun, 24 shells." Marvin used this technique to ignore the pain. "3 clips, 20 bullets each, 20 in my Glock. Sixty 9 mm bullets." Marvin put away his weapons, and lay down on the forest floor.
"Mr. Friendly!" Marvin said. "Guard me until I wake up." The floating, talking battleaxe did so.
12:25 PM, Bennington, New York
Byara Halebein was a native New Yorker, and she was familiar with most of the streets. She had acquired her knowledge from her job as a journalist. Byara was 29, going on 30, and she was an anchor on Channel 15 News for the 5, 6, and 10 PM broadcasts. She had intelligence and charisma. Yet, she felt she was missing something from her life. Oh, sure, she had plenty of action at bank robberies- at this one bank robbery, the robbers shot at the newscasters.
"GET A CAR FOR THIS, YOU IDIOTIC COFFEE-SWILLING AUTOMATONS!!" the robber shouted before firing a .22 shell into the back of their newsvan, a shot which was intended for Byara. The police decided that this moron couldn't hit the earth if he tried, and SWAT teams stormed the building. They arrested him, and found out he had a wandering eye. But Byara still had a rush of adrenaline, even from people who couldn't even hit elephants.
But today wasn't like any other.
Byara walked into her office, reminiscing about this little event. She sat down in her chair, placing her cup of coffee on a nearby coaster, and sat down to check her e-mail. She typed in the web address to her e- mail account, and typed in her account name and password. She saw three messages: -NEW- From: candi362: you there? -NEW- From: Sister: meeting place -NEW- From: Cindy: Fw: Fw: FW: fw: FW: Fw: 2day is smak day!!!
Byara quickly deleted the first and last message, and read the e-mail from her sister. From: jamer4evr@msn.com To: bhnws15@channel15.net Hey sis!! Wanna go to new Mexico? They've got killer tanning booths over there, and it looks so beautifl!! -Kyara SUBSCRIBE TO MSN.COM CAUSE BILLY BOY SAID SO DAMMIT!!
Byara typed in her response. Sure, I guess. How is Mother doing? Is she fine? And what about Niggles the puppy? -Byara
She would have said more, but then, some jerk in leather armor barged into her office. Byara quickly dispatched hm by spraying mace into his eyes, causing him to scream and fall down in surprise.
"EVIL DEMON SPRAY!!" the intruder howled. Byara silenced him (or made him screech, whichever) with a well-placed kick to the groin. The intruder crumpled into the fetal position.
Byara ran out of her office. "What's going on here!?" she said to a man running past her, his hair aflame.
Byara sighed, and noticed a thief trying to win free candy with the "Upward Crane" game at the vending machines. Byara growled, and delivered a swift kick to below his belt. He howled, and went unconscious.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?" Byara screamed. No one listened. Byara, to get someone's attention, put out a nearby flame with a nearby fire extinguisher. A thief came up right behind her, but, she was the quicker, and blasted him with the extinguisher full force. The extinguisher ran out, so Byara cold-cocked him on the head with the empty canister. The thief became unconscious, and celebrated by falling on the floor and taking a short nap. In anger, she decided to quit work early today. (Tough broad. ;))
She took the stairs down, and she saw a puddle of blood.
"OH, GOD! Who did this!?" Byara screamed. She wasn't motherly, she just liked things neat and orderly. She sidestepped the pool of blood, and continued down the stairs. You may be wondering why Byara didn't have her priorities in order. As a newscaster, she was desensitized to bloody crime scenes. Partly because of her older brother, back in the '90s when she was a teenager. Her older brother collected bugs, tore them apart, and was fascinated with death and the injury of the human body. She also listened to Kyara's band practice, which promised to "ROCK THE HELL OUT OF YOU ALL!!" with obscenely loud music. And they did.
She made it to the first floor. Police officers were rushing by her, but one stopped to question Byara.
"Miss! Stop!" the officer said.
"Yes?" Byara asked.
"What's going on up there?"
"Meh. My coworkers are being monkeys, I suppose." Byara shrugged.
"Ma'am, there have been phone calls from up there that claim that some nuts from the Middle Ages are pillaging and looting your office!"
"Oh, so is that what it was?" Byara said. "By the way, you look cute..."
The officer began to open his mouth, then close it, then open it.
"Don't worry. I nailed three of them while I was escaping. I wonder who did it..." Byara walked away and out of the building. Meanwhile, four stories high, Channel 15 News was on fire.
Something clicked in her mind. She thought back to the news reports she had heard this morning. Two people in flashy, ancient garments shot to death? A demon in a New Jersey forest? The Starbucks/Meat Pie store run by those guys with bad teeth and broadswords on the corner? It all came together.
Byara decided to get the hell out of Dodge.
3:00 PM -------------
Jeric Halper's Greyhound bus came to a stop in Bennington, New York. Jeric had dreams, but this time, he dreamt that he had a big target painted on the back of his head. Oh, yeah, and he also dreamt that Carmen Electra fell in love with him after he gave her a rather large diamond.
Byara, carrying two suitcases, got on the bus and took a seat right next to the sleeping Jeric. Jeric responded to Byara's arrival by shifting his sleeping position and drooling on her shoulder.
The driver of the Greyhound Bus, Mr. Mulcutty, was a 75-year-old man on vacation from leisure in South Florida. "Dagnabbit! Why does this goldarn bus have to leave at 3:15 PM! Why not 3:10 or 3:05? In MY day..."
The passengers silently groaned, and looked for the nearest reading material. Mulcutty's Ranting Time was a regular feature on this particular Greyhound, which meant that the bus had 15 minutes before driving away. Byara sighed, and tried to fall asleep. Fifteen minutes later, the bus was cruising down Main Street at exactly 15 MPH. The cars behind him honked.
"Get off the fucking road, you fucking asshole!" one driver screamed.
"Goddammit! It's called a GAS PEDAL, YOU DOWN-SYNDROME AFFECTED JACKASS!" another screamed.
And still, the bus cruised on. At 4:00 PM, the bus was three blocks down the road, and the drivers of the cars, who carried small pistols despite having road rage, fired at the bus. Bullets ricocheted and hit the bus, other cars, and even hit other drivers shooting at the bus, causing Driver War XXVII to break out. The drivers began to shoot at each other, constantly reloading their small guns.
Halfway into Driver War XXVII, Jeric woke up and heard the gunfight. Byara was fast asleep, the drool on her shoulder drying off. Jeric tapped her shoulder, trying to wake Byara.
"Wake up. There's the craziest thing happening right now."
"What is it?" Byara mumbled, half-asleep.
"Drivers from behind us are shooting at each other."
"Seen it." Byara went back to sleep.
"Really?" Jeric said in an astonished tone.
"Yeah. They have these damn Driver Wars monthly, if not more often." "Really? Wow."
"Yeah. This is what happens when you have the court go lax on the gun control bill, and when there aren't any anger management classes."
Jeric nodded his head in fascination.
Meanwhile, the Axis (The Kia, Geo, and Nissan drivers) were winning against the Allies (The Mitsubishi, Toyota, and Pontiac drivers). The ones who ran out of ammo began throwing whatever they could, and getting into fistfights.
And still, the bus drove on. But very slowly.
Marvin woke up, after a six-long hour nap. He checked his watch: 6:07 PM. Good. Marvin picked himself up, and said to Mr. Friendly: "I'm up. Let's go do this."
"Uhm, Marvin, are you sure you want to go do this?"
"I'm getting back at the people who torched my house, remember?"
"But you've been wounded!"
Marvin looked down at the many bandages on his arms and legs. "Well, I am doing pretty well, aren't I? Besides, after the nap, I feel better. The pain from those twinkly things subsided, and these wounds don't hurt as much as they used to."
Mr. Friendly sighed like a defeated parent. "Let's go get them."
Marvin took out his Colt. "Let's go kick some magician ass."
Marvin crept up to the small monastery-like castle. He looked to be counting how many mages, more or less, were inside the place. Marvin counted forty, and then thought of a plan. "All right. Mr. Friendly, I want you to go right up to them and to start attacking. I'll sneak around the back, and then I'll fight them. I'll attack the weaker forces, and when I'm done with them, I'll join you and finish these idiots off."
"Ah. So, you took into account my battleaxe like figure, which those magic missiles cannot hit, so I can attack the mages with little to no resistance whatsoever! Good thinking, Marvin!"
"Huh?" Marvin said. "Oh! Yeah! I'm good at that planning thing, aren't I?"
They separated, Marvin going towards the back door, Mr. Friendly slipping between (between) the front gates.
"Oy! Look! A floating battleaxe!" a mage wearing a brown robe shouted.
"Uh... um..." The battleaxe thought about it for a moment. What would he say to that? "You're correct" or "Bloody well done!" wouldn't fit the occasion.
"Uh... shut it!" The battleaxe said, and attacked.
6:20 PM, Bennington, New York
Driver War XXVII ended at 4:00 PM, when a series of explosions took out the contestants and charred the back of the Greyhound. 30 people died.
At 6:00 PM, the bus had arrived at another section of Bennington. The driver had fallen asleep with his foot barely putting pressure on the gas pedal. They were now going 5 MPH. Somewhere, a terrorist that looked strangely like Dennis Hopper went absolutely batty over the old man's failure to drive above 50 MPH.
"At least a fourth of the people are crazy, stupid, or insane in this town," Byara said to Jeric. "You just have to learn how to talk to them."
"Ah. Really?"
"Being a journalist for four years teaches you something about the human psyche."
"Really? Wow. I've actually have never been to New York, but, what I've heard from friends in the business-" Jeric said friends in the business, because he was paranoid about spies and Big Brotherism. "- was that New York was crazy. I never thought of it like this."
Jeric looked out the window. A parade of 40 people, carrying crossbows and torches were trailing the bus. One or two occasionally shot bolts into the air.
"Byara, look out the window."
Byara did so, and her eyes widened. "Oh, Jesus! Not them again!"
"The men from the office?"
"Yes!"
"Well, hell!"
A teenager, 16, wearing glasses, said to the crowd of thieves: "OH YEAH! ROCK OUT, DUDE!!" He extended his pinky and index finger, and stuck his thumb out. Three seconds later, a suspected spy of the gang of the Gibbering Jackals was lit aflame. He screamed and ran down the block.
Jeric blinked. "Let's hope those laser geek whizzes made a good blaster..." He took out a prototype twin-barreled laser pistol. Designed to be efficient and overly destructive, the HM-6 Laser Project was made to assist soldiers in battle. When fired, the gun would shoot a pale green blast of energy, which would drain the battery whole. The beauty of it was, the gun fired energy from D batteries. The energy blasts shot faster, went longer, and did more damage than the lead-and-gunpowder bullets. It was truly a revolution in the science of warfare. Too bad it was so poorly guarded. All that grant money was going down the drain...
Jeric fired a blast at the thieves. One connected with a thief, who hit the ground hard, his chest and lung area burned to nearly a crisp. The thieves retreated to the back of the Greyhound. Jeric broke away and jumped out of the west window, where it lead to an alley.
"Wait!" Byara yelled, and got off the bus. The thieves thought of this as one very good opportunity to chase after them.
Marvin fired his Colt wildly at the mages. Four in the back room fell to him, now there were four at a time casting spells all at once. Marvin quickly ducked behind a barrel and reloaded his weapon, when a jet of flame hit the barrel that he was hiding behind. It melted. Marvin didn't take this as a very good sign. He jumped forward and shot a mage in the head, and shot another one in the torso when he fell on his left shoulder. He stood up, and the mages began to cast another spell. Marvin shot at one and missed, but the mage fumbled his spell and it disappeared.
The other mage hit Marvin with a magic missile. Marvin howled and shot him twice. The mage went down like a ton of bricks. The fourth began to cast another spell, but Marvin shot him in the leg. The mage howled and fell down, which gave Marvin time to reload his Colt again. The fourth mage came up, and Marvin promptly shot him again.
"Like a bloody shooting gallery," Marvin said out loud. He ran into the west room, where there was a big half-orc and a familiar face...
"Bark!?" Marvin shouted. "Stupid bastard! You should have left for Canada while you had the chance!"
"Canada?" Bark said, rubbing his prosthetic leg.
"Yes, Canada, you idiot!" Marvin said. He motioned to the half-orc. "Who the hell is he?"
"ME GROG! ME SMASH BRAINS OUT!"
"That's very nice. Now, Bark, why the hell did you burn my house down?"
"We did it because there was a bounty on your head."
"WHAT?!"
"A tidy sum of 100 gold."
"Who put you up to it?"
"A mage named- WAIT! You idiot! You think I'm going to tell you?! Prepare to die, Marvin Hadablaster, slaughterer of mages!"
This was GROG's signal to attack. GROG raised his double-axe and rushed to attack Marvin. Marvin, who had six more bullets in his Colt, shot him five times, then shot Bark in the chest. Marvin didn't kill them. Bark fell to the floor, while GROG's armor, an enchanted splint mail, softened the impact, and at the most, only bruised him.
"YOU SHOT ME IN THE LEG! THAT REALLY HURT!" Bark screamed. Marvin reloaded his weapon, and ducked just in time to avoid a slash from the double-axe that certainly would have killed him. Marvin aimed at GROG in the head, fired a bullet which only winged him, to which GROG replied with a clumsy swipe which only scratched the floor.
Bark took this as a sign to leave right now, as Marvin was too busy dealing with GROG to shoot at Bark. Marvin shot GROG in the hand, causing him to howl and drop his weapon. Marvin very quickly expended the last of the ammo on GROG's splint mail and head.
"Where the hell is Bark? I wanna beat him over the head with his fake leg!" Marvin said, and went toward the dungeons. He went down the spiral steps and arrived at a huge locked wooden door. Marvin put away his shotgun, and took out his other pistol.
On the surface, Mr. Friendly was having no trouble with the mages. They kept trying to cast Burning Hands on the battleaxe, but they kept missing and hitting each other.
Meanwhile, in the underground dungeon, Marvin shot the lock and entered, and saw one guard with a spear standing idly.
"You motherfuckers didn't think much about security, didn't you?" Marvin said, and then shot the guard in the chest and arm. The guard crumpled and died. Marvin grabbed a nearby torch and looked around.
"Helloooo? Anyone home?" Marvin yelled out. "Come on! You guys bore me!" he said, in a cocky manner.
Marvin heard a barely audible squeak out of the corner of his ear. He turned, and there he saw a girl lying on the floor, dressed in dirty rags.
Marvin said, in a polite manner: "Friend or Foe?"
"Friend," Arelia squeaked out. She was pale, and looking gaunt from malnourishment.
Marvin grinned. "Just joking." He reached over and opened the cell door.
Arelia stood up, and Marvin pointed his pistol at her.
"Are you a demon or evil being of some sort?"
Arelia's face scrunched up. "No!"
Marvin put away his pistol, and reached out his hand. "Marvin Hadablaster."
"Who's Marvin?"
"It's my first name. Marvin."
"Oh."
"Where are you from?"
Arelia coughed out some blood. "Please, dear sir, try and find some healing potions!"
Marvin looked confused. "Healing potion? The only healing potion I know about isn't in liquid form. It's-"
Arelia pointed to the guard's belt. It held a small bottle of cyan liquid.
"Oh." Marvin scooped it up, uncorked it, and poured it in her mouth. Arelia's condition changed. She no longer was pale, but she still had a slightly bony appearance.
"Oh, thank you, kind sir. I am from a small village in the forest north of here."
"Well, that's-" Marvin said, and then noticed two points coming out of her hair that were her ears.
"Um, Arelia, no offense, but what happened to your ears?"
"I'm an elf. I'm supposed to have pointy ears!"
"Oh. Sorry." Then, after a moment, Marvin asked, "What's an elf?"
"If you can take me back to the town, I can tell you."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Marvin helped her up and out of the dungeons.
As soon as the two reached the outside, Mr. Friendly slaughtered the last mage, who unsuccessfully tried to cast a Fireball and ended up lighting himself on fire.
"This was the most vigorous exercise I've ever had!" Mr. Friendly said. Marvin smiled.
And this chapter will be concluded later. AlphaDunce VO5 is going batty by turning off every five seconds, speaking to me in a telepathic voice, sticking the keys, telling me to listen to Bette Midler songs... I swear to gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghyhgu7gggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg-GAH! Dang key stuck. Bloody machine... so, that's it for right now. Mental note: #10 must be stopped. -Marvin PS: To my beta editors: Find the embarrassing misspelling! Win a prize! Laterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrty6r