With Or Without You
Part Four
Chas had made it to the Golden Pagoda. Word from his informant, Tricky-Ricky, had told him that Evie was here. Chas had plenty of informants; his name was like law on streets that were lawless. Chas didn't like to dwell on it too much but he believed himself to be like a modern day Clint Eastwood. He had remember seeing "Dirty Harry" on late night television back at John's apartment and he knew that he was that kind of bad-ass. He knew that he was able to fuck shit up like old Dirty Harry and tonight, the fuckers were going down. No one dared touch his man and get away with it. Chas found his inspiration in that man and tonight, he was going to do him proud.
He walked into the Golden Pagoda and was greeted by a familiar face. Midnite sat in the Lotus position, becoming one with everything, just like a hot dog cooked by an authentic hot dog vendor. Chas thought of Buddha, of Shiva, of Richard Gere when he hugged the Dalai Lama and he had known that he was getting into some hard-core action. He believed this was another level, he had come far and now, he bowed before the meditating, Voodoo pimp, awaiting his words of wisdom.
"Young grasshopper, you have come far, all the way from the Strip," Midnite said, making sure that his diction was clipped and any emotion was removed. Chas once more thought of the Hong-Kong action films he had saw and he knew this was for real.
"I know, Sensei," Chas said and knelt further down and then was greeted by a hard slap on the back of his head.
"Do not call me Sensei; you have not learned the secrets to become master. I must teach you, before battle inside those doors. You have much to learn and in not much time to learn it," Midnite replied.
"Oh teach me, teach me!" Chas pleaded.
"Technique is very, very simple. This will help you overcome everything, I assure," Midnite stated. He lifted his hands from his lap and then made circular motions with his hands. "Wax on, wax off," he said. He gave a small nudge with his foot to convince Chas to follow his motions. "Wax on, wax off."
"Wax on, wax off," Chas replied and he felt amazing. He felt like a master of the universe, he felt like Bob Ross when he finished a painting. He felt like Neo when he discovered he was the one. He was ready to kick ass and he felt enlightened.
"Now, go young grasshopper. Go and fight!" Midnite said, not sounding at all like the announcer in Chas' copy of Mortal Kombat that he played as a child and he didn't tilt his head back and laughed in a stereotypical, Asian sort of way, either. Chas was ready and he ran past him, heading right into the fray.
Chas went inside and sitting at the tables were groups of demons, all dressed in ninja outfits. Chas had heard of these bad asses before, they were called the Crazy Sixty-Nines. He had heard of them because they had heeded the words of their master, Evie. But Chas wasn't afraid, not at all. Even though their eyes were glowing red and even though they quickly pushed the chairs and tables out of the way to make room to battle it out, Chas was ready. He remembered the sacred technique that Midnite had taught him and he readied his gun.
"Give me some sugar, baby!" Chas cried out as he pulled the trigger. The first of the Crazy Sixty-Nines became burnt s'more before him and he licked his lips. He was definitely in the mood for the carnage.
They came, left and right, left and right, dosey-doe, like a demonic hoe-down. He kept blowing them away, feeling so totally bad-ass. He remembered once, that John had said he liked Arnold Schwarzenegger and he felt like him now, especially in "Predator." He watched as they became ash around him. "Yeah, keep it coming," he said and he was amazed, that never once did he run out of ammunition.
He soon realized that the Crazy Sixty-Nines were no more. They were piles of ash and Chas felt like he was lost in the base of one of John's ashtrays. He choked on the scent of sulfur and the air seemed absolutely putrid. He tried not to puke and seeing his way through it proved hectic. He stood still; practicing the technique he was just taught. Magically, the smoke had cleared and he didn't saw who had come up behind him. She took the gun right away from him and there, he stood defenseless.
There she stood, sword in hand and chest heaving. She was like Artemis, like Nemesis, like Xena and Foxy Cleopatra all in one. Her hazel eyes glared at the boy as she tossed the gun aside. She was dressed like one of the Crazy Sixty-Nines, save for the fact that she had a red sash around her waist. Chas wondered who was underneath it all. But he thought about it and didn't care; he just knew that she had to go down.
"You have almost ruined my plans, Mr. Kramer," she spat out, like his name was flat soda pop.
"That's what happens when people misbehave," Chas threw back.
"You will never have John, never ever, never ever. He is mine and my leader's and we will do whatever it takes to keep him in lederhosen, forever! Now, prepare to fight," Evie said as she tossed Chas a sword and he couldn't believe the sword that he had in his hands. It was a legendary sword, the sword in the stone, Excalibur. He took it as a sign, a sign that he was going to whip her ass right here and now and tip the scale from good to bad.
Chas and Evie clashed swords and they fought. Chas thought once more of Kill Bill and it was just like that. He was the Bride and she was Oren, this was a battle without honor or mercy. Chas was covered in her blood and she couldn't even touch Chas once, because he was amazing like that. He watched as she stumbled to the ground, knowing that he had won this battle.
As she lay there, gasping her last breathes, Chas walked over and pulled off her mask, wanting to know she was. And lo and behold, oh noes and all that, it was Angela Dodson. He couldn't believe it, John's best friend besides him and trusted fag-hag was the ruthless culprit. She gasped and tried to hide her face but she knew it was too late. The great and mighty Chas had her and that was that.
"Damn you," she hissed.
"Why Angela? Why?" Chas tried not to cry, because he was manly, damn manly.
"Because, I love John too. I love him more than you could you little boy," she hissed again, like the snake in the "Jungle Book."
"Bullshit. Did you think that you could get away with it?" Chas asked.
"Of course I did and I would have, if it wasn't for you mangy kids and your dumb dog," Angela yet again hissed, because evil was hissing.
Chas got it out of her and oh noes, he was horrified. He was utterly horrified. It had turned out that Angela had snapped when she had learned that John had made cookies for Chas and not her. It made her join the evil coalition with Balthazar to make John theirs. In his frustration, he cut off her head. It might have seen brutal but it was necessary, damned necessary. Evil needed to die and Chas knew where he was heading now.
The night had seemed a bit darker and a bit colder but he didn't care. He looked at the skyline and the biggest building in that skyline. He had to finish this once and for all.