XX: License to Kill
Farm Fresh wasn't exactly the greatest place in the world. Actually, to put it honestly, Farm Fresh was the worst place in the world. If you were a courtesy clerk there, and by courtesy clerk I mean bagger. The guy at the end of the register who has to bag your crap and bring it out to your car for you. This unlucky fool was bagging for a "pail" man in robes who had ordered a small number of edible goods, mainly some Wise barbeque honey potato chips and a half a gallon of milk. Leehalt walked to the cashier, who didn't have it much better then the bagger, and narrowed his eyes.
"And how much money do I owe you, oh vermin?" Leehalt scowled.
The blips and murmur of the other registers were a constant noise as the young girl cashier glanced at her screen. "That'll be $4.50."
Leehalt dug into his pockets to try and find his wallet. Ever since he had to quit P.R.O.P.H.E.T due to his massive failure as number 2, life had not been good. But then again, this is Leehalt, so when was life ever good? He cursed himself mentally, for never having nay luck. All he had was a five, which was supposed to last him the week. Damn. Maybe, there was a price checking error and he'll get the items free. Maybe, but then again, with his luck, it won't happen. Damn again. He yanked out the five and handed it to the girl as the unlucky bagger placed the milk and chips into cheap plastic bags.
"Thank you, have a nice day!" The girl said. Like she really cared. Leehalt didn't bother to reply as he left grocery store through the twin doors. The electric sliding doors opened for him, and then closed after, but caught the trailing end of his robes. Damn, yet some more shitty luck.
The weather was sunny, as it was always on Filgaia. C'mon people, it's a desert world! I bet they'd kill for some rain every now and then! Anyhoo, Leehalt raised a hand to cover his vision from the sun. Damn sun, why'd it have to be so bright. If only there was a way to block it out, like an eclipse or something. But then again, Leehalt has no luck, and then sun would continue to create glare. The pavement was hot, no surprise, and Leehalt walked in sandals. Not only was it sporty, but also it was also conventional and it ran well with the whole robe look. However, his thin sandals didn't fare too well against hot pavement, and Leehalt had to endure it at. Damn heat, no luck. Several cars were coming into the parking lot, scouting around like sharks for prey as idiot drivers sought a parking place. Aldehyde was not the best place for motorists, but in order to get anywhere in the sprawling city, one needed a car. And it was well known that Aldyhyde motorists weren't the best motorists in the world. One would wonder what kind of curriculum they were running in the drivers Ed over here. Leehalt pondered this as yet another car sped past him in the parking lot. The fools! Don't they know that speeding in the parking lot is illegal and stupid! Oi, humans…
Leehalt finally found his car in the parking lot. A 1997 Honda Accent, of the silver color. Each tire on it was from a different company, the windshield wipers were broke and the lights were badly in need of being replaced. Leehalt reached into his pocket once more, fumbling about for his keys. He pulled them out with success but their silverness slipped through his fingers and fell to the black pavement below. The hot black pavement below. Damn luck. Leehalt stared down at the ground for a while, contemplating his situation. What if he was to leave ye damned keys there, to rot in the boiling sun on the hot pavement for the rest of eternity. Such a reward for slipping through his fingers seemed perfectly worthy. But it couldn't be good. His apartment key was on it, and if somebody were to find these keys, they could easily walk right in. No, we couldn't have that. Damned luck.
So Leehalt reached down and picked up his keys from the singing parking lot. The keys had grown warm in the time it sat on the ground, and burned his fingers upon touch. Leehalt cursed his luck and picked them up and unlocked the door as quickly as he could and throwing the keys into the ignition. No more shall he touch those keys… that is until he got home. The car was hot inside, as it was hot outside and heat tends to stay inside cars. With all the robes he was wearing, it was unbearably warm. Leehalt growled. The seat belt was like molten iron and the A/C was doing nothing but blowing warm air out. Damn luck. He sweated and turned the ignition on (2nd ignition! Hohohohoho!) and listened to the engine. VAROOO ICK ICK ICK! Leehalt looked surprised. Engines weren't supposed to go ick ick ick ick. They were supposed to go varooom chug chug chug. Great. Leehalt turned the hot key once more and obtained the same result. He narrowed his eyes. Damn. He looked into his wallet. .50 was all there was left. Enough for one phone call. Not enough for a tow truck of any kind. Leehalt rushed into the grocery store once more (after narrowly avoiding death by bumper) and slid the two quarters into the phone and picked up the dial. Who to call? Well, there was his room mates. The green spy didn't have a car and Asgard's driving skills were about as good as his facial expressions. Yet he was in a jam, and he needed any kind of help.He dialed in his apartment number.
RING
RING
RING
RING
We're sorry, there currently is a technical problem with our service. Please hang up and try again.
Leehalt couldn't believe his ears. His eyes widened, rage filling his soul. DAMN IT ALL! DAMN the luck! He would be trapped, forever, here at this infernal gathering place of damned sheep. Unless… Leehalt smirked. A telephone lay on the customer service counter. He could use it all right. He'd just have to be sneaky, clever. Just what he did anyways.
Leehalt approached the customer service counter, where poor fools would wait hand and foot upon old ladies in hideous sweaters and mothers with hundreds of whiny brats. Just the type of people Leehalt couldn't stand. He wasn't here for the line though; he was here for the phone! His eyes darted to it. No one was there, no one was watching. He could do it. The man walked over to the phone, whistling. The two-customer support people were busy, attending to a bill an old lady in huge sunglasses demand be paid. Excellent. He lifted the receiver off the hook and glanced upon the buttons. So may lines, which one led to the outside world? He decided it would be best to just go ahead and try one. Success! Perhaps some luck would be with him today! Perhaps the world was not after him. Mayhap some good would occur. He punched in the number, quickly, and trying to act inconspicuous.
"SNARL GWARF! GEHEHEHE!" It was obviously the green spy, as he didn't speak English. Hints of a television broadcast were heard in the background. "The Dukes of Hazard"? Most likely.
"Put Asgard on the phone!" Leehalt said in a harsh whisper.
"OGGLE RABY POO!" The spy said before getting off. Several footsteps were heard and soon a deep voice barreled through the receiver. "Yes?"
"Asgard!" Leehalt whispered. "It would appear that my car has broken down. I need you to come pick me up." Asgard nodded, but Leehalt couldn't tell, being on the other end of the phone. "Asgard?"
"I will come." Asgard replied.
"Wait! You don't even know where I am!" Leehalt almost shouted.
"…Where are you?" Asgard asked.
"The Farm Fresh on south Battlefield! Hurry, I can no longer stand these miscreant creatures!" Leehalt eyes the humans around him. Oh, how they made him sick.
"Understood." Asgard responded and the phone line died. Leehalt smiled and hung up the phone, only to face the store manager.
"Excuse me sir, but we have payphones for personal calls. This phone is business only." The manager gave him a dirty look.
Leehalt smiled an embarrassed smile and took a step back. "Ah, well, you see, I have no money and my car… broke… down…" Leehalt could see he was going nowhere. Damn the luck.
And so, Leehalt was kicked out of the store and told to never come back. Leehalt sneered. Of that he would do. Why would he wish to venture in a store filled with these nasty creatures? Ung! Leehalt made a mental note to blow the store up in the near future. But first, he had to get on with life, find a new job, and pay the rent, things of that nature. Capitalistic pigs! If number 1 goes through with his plans, well, things will look up! Sure those secret agents were up on the moon running amok, but number 1 still had 001 by his side. Foiled by the one thing he was good at. Dance. It's time to change the subject.
Many hours passed before Asgard arrived in an old beaten white station wagon. The parking lot was empty and the store too (but Farm Fresh never closes). An entire day wasted. Damn the luck! Leehalt was set on a bench, trying to pry his fingers off the potato chip bag. The milk had gone bad several hours ago, and so, this weeks rations were down to tap water and chips. Aldehyde tap water has been known to kill, so people try to stray away from it. Damn the luck. Asgard parked in the lot and stepped out, taking much weight off the station wagon. His cold eyes searched the parking lot.
"What is wrong with the Alceste-mobile?" Asgard asked, making a joke. It didn't feel like a joke because 1.) Asgard said it, so now facial expressions were shown, and 2.) the recipient of the joke was Leehalt.
Leehalt scowled and pointed to the Accent. Asgard followed as he walked over. Leehalt inserted the keys and tried again, but the same sick noises emitted from the engine. "It won't start."
Asgard stepped over to the front and attempted to lift the hood, but found he had torn it off. He would have blushed at the power of his own strength if he could. Leehalt cursed his luck once more as Asgard ran a systems check with the car. "Your battery is dead."
"Battery dead?" Leehalt looked surprised. He glanced at the light switch for his headlights. It was set to on. He had left them on while he was in the store: the whole time. Damn the luck.
"Do not worry." Asgard grabbed one end of the battery with his giant metal hand and the bumper with his other. "I shall charge it for you." Asgard's eyes began to glow as he charged the car up with electricity from his own eternal engine. In a moment, he was done, and then looked to Leehalt. "Your engine should work now."
"But what about my hood?" Leehalt tapped his fingers. Asgard turned to the hood, which was lying on the parking lot. He picked it up and slammed it onto the car, temporarily wedging it in.
"That should do." Asgard replied.
Leehalt didn't bother to thank the golem as he stepped in and started the engine. It worked, just as the golem said. Very useful, that golem. Leehalt snickered as he backed the car up and then turned from the parking lot and onto Battlefield, heading south so he could get on the 64 West. He'd get home before Asgard, even with engine trouble. Asgard was the worst motorist in all of Aldehyde, and quite possibly all of Filgaia. Not like it mattered though. Leehalt just simply liked being "first". He tried so hard to be first, but never got it. It laws like the heavens were punishing him. And so therefore, Leehalt was a very jaded man. A man who had no luck. A man who munched on Wise Potato chips while driving the freeway. A not very safe man.
It was a very shabby apartment, even though they had got the apartment last night. It was in the bad part of town, the commonly referred to as P-Town, or Pittsbourough heights. The apartment, though, had nothing high about it. It was a one story with two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room (where the Spy slept). Leehalt inserted the keys in, but found the door unlocked. The Spy never locked the door, and that drove him crazy. What if his arch enemies were to come looking for him?! They wouldn't even have to bother breaking the door down! Damn the luck. Leehalt slammed the door opened, waking the Spy out of a nap on the couch. The cool, night air came in through the open doorway as Leehalt stood there, scowling. The Spy eeped and flew off a bit. He knew that a kicking was coming. Leehalt growled and closed the door, making sure to lock it. He walked into the kitchen, through a sea of trash. One couldn't see the floor in the apartment, as Asgard and the Spy were both very messy people. Leehalt was too busy to clean up after them, and so, the floor disappeared, (even if they had only been there one night.) though rumor has it that it's a soft shade of blue. Several plastic chairs stolen from someone's lawn decorated the card table, and Leehalt dropped his keys and the potato chips upon it. He opened the refrigerator door and slid the bad milk in, so that it could accompany the other gallon of bad milk. Damn the luck. He closed the door and stared at the ceiling. It was still as white as it was before he left this morning. He needed a job. His eyes strayed from the ceiling to the fridge door, where a single lottery ticket was taped to it. Tonight was lottery night. Leehalt remembered this. He had bought this ticket the other day at a 7-11. Perhaps he'd spend the rest of the night watching the numbers. But with his luck, it would be a waste of time. Damn the luck.
Leehalt decided it best just to go to bed. So he waded through the garbage-strewn floor, past the television, and into his room. He wouldn't bother with the brushing teeth and flossing before bed routine tonight. With his luck, it would only cause him to floss out a tooth. Dental bills weren't really on the list right now. He sighed and wrapped himself in the K-mart brand blankets and stared into the pillow. Maybe he could smother himself out right now. Nah, then who'd look after Asgard and the Spy? Not like he cared for them, and besides, Ekatrina wouldn't look upon suicide with high regard. Damn the luck. And so Leehalt closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep.
** *
RING
RING
RING
Leehalt opened his eyes and glanced at the digital clock on his counter. 11 P.M. Who in their right mind would be calling now? Damn the luck. Leehalt reached over, knocking a few items off the counter while reaching for an ugly yellow cord phone.
"What the hell do you want?" Leehalt grumbled.
"LEEHALT!" It could only be Melody. "Guess what!?"
"What ye damned woman!?" Leehalt grumbled some more.
"Your on another episode of "From Baskar with Love"!" Melody squealed.
"What the?! I've already been in one chapter! I can't be in two!" Leehalt sat up.
"It's true! Your getting double exposure! How lucky!" Melody said again.
Luck? Leehalt was never lucky. He always failed at his dreams. But then, how could he be in two chapters? Maybe there was some luck in him. "Melody, have they revealed the lottery numbers yet?"
"I don't think so, why?" Melody asked.
"…I'm feeling a little lucky…" Leehalt smiled. He hadn't smiled in ages, but now he smiled. And so, Leehalt got up out of bed and hung up the phone.
** *
Enya: Ahh, you did a chapter on Leehalt! He isn't such a bad guy!
Joe: You did this all because of that review, right?
Yup. When Jordan Ripslinger said that Leehalt never wins anything, it made me think. Poor Leehalt. He never wins anything, it's true. So I wrote this.
Enya: The only bad thing is that you brought the pacing down to a skidding halt. We were moving so fast too!
Joe: You also did this because you were running ahead of schedule to, right?
Hey! A little respect here! Your looking at a good chapter! So what if I did it only to remain on schedule. I still think Leehalt needed some luck.
Enya: Yay.
Joe: sniff O.K, now that I actually read it, I'm getting all choked up.
…Ok, it's not that sad. Next episode: Back on track with the agents in "Golden Eye!"