A Series of Random Incidents
"So, ummm…exactly how was it that you planned to find this…Flash?" Eve enquired, inspecting her fingernails while using her nano machines to change their color, mustering as much boredom into her tone as possible.
Instead of the embarrassed pause she expected, Train winked at her instead.
"A town as prosperous as Rotenburg has its own Sweeper headquarter, so we can just drop in and catch any leads there," declared Train, clearly enjoying his one up on Eve.
"What would you like to have?" inquired the bartender nervously. It was his first day working in the Sweeper bar, and he'd been trained to deal with all kinds of fights and disagreements that usually erupted in the bar, but he had been caught off guard when he was asked to actually serve customers. Mentally, he ran through the lists of alcoholic beverages the three unlikely companions sitting in front of him would likely ask for.
"Milk!" came the answer from the messy haired and messy dressed brunette. He blinked. Milk?
"Orange juice, please." requested the man with the eye patch. Noticing the bartender's raised eyebrows, he elaborated. "We have a job coming up, so I can't be drop dead drunk while running after criminals, now can I?"
Turning toward the cute grade school girl, he asked, "Would you like to have juice or milk like your companions?"
A flash of annoyance lit up her eyes as Eve requested, "a 1787 Chateau Lafite, please."
The bartender did a double take. "I'm sorry," came his shaky reply, "as that wine costs around $160 thousand…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the bar could not afford it, but not wanting to deny wine because of she seemed like a kid, for her knowledge on wines caused him to recalculate her age.
"What are you thinking little princess! We can't afford that kinda drink anyways. We'd need…" Train paused to count on his fingers, and then gave up. "Well, forget about Flash Grenade, We'd needCreed himself to pay off half the debt alone!"
The bar stilled into an unsettling quiet.
A moment later, Train, Sven, and Eve found themselves kicked out of the bar into a pile of garbage.
"What the hell!" growled Sven.
Eve peeled a piece of rotting cabbage delicately off her intricate lace dress. "They were obviously unsettled by the mention of Flash…or Creed…or both."
"Yeah. You should keep your mouth shut Train!" Sven grumbled, hitting Train on the head with his briefcase.
There was no comical expression on the Black Cat's face though; it was reflecting a frown as the wheels turned in his head.
Something's not right…
Suddenly, gunshots and cries rang through the air, breaking his concentration. A blur flashed by him as another crashed right into him, making him fly back and land in a sprawl on the previous blur.
"Get off him damn you! You can't protect him! He stole my apple!" ranted the man that crashed into Train, unaware, or ignoring the fact, that he was preventing Train from getting up because he was sitting on him. Instead, he chose to jab behind Train's head with the point of his rifle, his pale and lined face scrunched up in concentration.
A whimper from behind his head startled Train from his surprise. In one fluid movement, he flipped around, grabbed the bundle under him, slipped out from under the man and stole his gun.
"Yo ojiisan. You might want to calm down a bit. It's just an apple, and he's just a kid. Anyways, from the looks of it, it's all in his stomach now." Looking at the little tyke, with his angelic cherubic face and the halo of blond hair, the man's face almost softened, before noting the dribble of apple juice running down the brat's chin.
"That APPLE was a MERCHANDISE from MY STORE! If the brat won't pay for it, then you will!" With that, he dragged a protesting Train down the street.
Eve and Sven blinked at each other, sweat dropped, and then ran after their struggling companion.
Really, how does he get into these situations?
"Ne, ojiisan? Why don't you just tell me the price of your apple so I can pay you already?" Train pleaded, his hand was burning from being dragged across the city.
"That's the price," said the man, pointing through a broken display window of a rundown building. Inside was a rickety old shelf, containing exactly one broken wristwatch, five paperclips, half a bag of flour, and 2 banana peels. Train peered at the empty spot the man was pointing at, and realized there was a faded tag stuck to the wood.
"FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! FOR AN APPLE!" Train nearly collapsed from a heart attack. "That's a bloody rip-off!"
The man seemed ready to argue; his skeletal hands were bunched into tight fists. His hollow eyes hardened, before an unreadable expression passed through them. His whole body collapsed into resign.
"I am sorry, but you know how times are. Ever since the reign of him."
"And who would be 'him'?' asked Sven, just as he caught up with Train with Even in tow.
The man glanced fearfully around, eyes skittering from shadow to shadow. Perplexed, he signaled that they should talk inside the rundown store.
Glancing at his companions, and then shrugging, Train stepped inside.