Chapter III: It Is Rocket Science!

A gaping Peter Quill blinked once. Then twice. And one last time. Maybe Yondu/Rick was right about the drugs. After all, what else could explain the fact he was before a photo of Rocket smiling, wearing a suit under the headline: "Franklin Wilford III, our most beloved scientist, has discovered a new alternative energy source." on a newspaper's page? Better yet, on the front page of said newspaper?

Granted that wasn't the unicorns Yondu had warned him about, but then, who knows, maybe Jeff's drugs caused hallucinations with all kinds of animals….

Peter kept his mouth wide open, but gave up on the constant blinking. It didn't matter how many times he opened and closed his eyes, the image of his raccoon friend was always there.

A deep breath. Maybe that wasn't his raccoon friend, but another raccoon. Incredibly and unlikely similar to his raccoon friend, but yet, a different raccoon. Perhaps a distant cousin, another experiment of pieces put together. After all, the guy on the photo was called Franklin (not Rocket) and was a well-known scientist (not a fugitive petty thief, wanted by the intergalactic police) who clearly preferred expensive shoes to barefoot. Another deep breath.

Between the options: a) drug-induced hallucinations and b) Rocket having a twin brother, Quill still wasn't sure which one was the worst.

The article on the newspaper read: "…Dr. Wilford will throw his annual fundraising gala on the 23rd at the main hall of his laboratory and promises to present his new invention at the event…" Peter looked at the date printed on the paper. The gala was in three weeks.

"…the "electrifying batteries", as they were humorlessly referred to by Wilford himself, come with the promise to drastically change the way we obtain energy with no environmental impact… Some, however, state that Wilford's new invention is merely a publicity stunt to…"

Star-Lord stopped reading abruptly and went back a few lines. "…on the 23rd at the main hall of his laboratory…" HIS laboratory! That was it! If a lab was big enough to fit a main hall capable of holding a fundraising gala in it and famous enough to be mentioned on the front page of a newspaper, then finding it couldn't be so hard.

All Peter had to do was to find out where that lab was, find a way to get there and then wait up for that Wilfred…ford guy, whatever his name was, and ask him if, by any chance, he had an outlaw twin brother with a-not-so-refined taste in clothes.

In that moment, however, our dearest but very naïve Peter Quill had completely disregarded his current - how can I say it - situation and really believed that his meeting with Dr. Wilford would go exactly as planned. Poor Peter…

The leader of the Guardians folded the piece of paper and shoved it in one of his jacket's pockets, determined to find out the location of that lab. Whatever it took!

After two "get lost, you crackhead!", three "I'm gonna call the cops if you don't get the hell outta here" and a bunch of other name callings not appropriate to transcribe here, Peter was almost convinced he would never get the help he needed to find that damned lab!

But, as everybody knows, "almost" doesn't count. So, in one last attempt, a bit desperate, I might add, Peter decided to give his best:

"Look, I'm not a crackhead nor do I have any intention of stealing your money…I know that I look disgusting and I stink, but could you please help me?" Quill had approached a taxi driver who was singing along a song in the radio while biting off chunks of his sandwich.

The man looked Peter from head to toe and slowly stopped with the singing and the chewing. Maybe he had lost the appetite before the sight of that hobo's deplorable state or he was simply getting ready to start the car and leave without answering Peter's plea, not even with a slightest curse. The two options crossed Quill's mind and, honestly, none of them would surprise him. However, for his surprise and relief, the cab driver didn't throw up nor take off:

"What can I do for you?"

Just then, Peter found himself in the same state he was found in the very beginning of this chapter: gaping and blinking.

"You're gonna help me?"

The taxi driver smiled in the face of the other man's complete astonishment.

"Wasn't that what you've just asked?" The man replied and didn't give Peter time to respond, not because it was a rhetorical question, but because he was done waiting. "Hop in!"

Suddenly Quill hesitated. Why was that man being so nice to him? Nobody, up until that moment, had treated him so kindly! Actually, nobody, up until that moment, had treated him at all!

Either that man was a charitable soul, devoted to help the others (even when "the others" smelled like him) or he was a hobo's killer who would lure them into his car by playing nice so he could take them to an abandoned warehouse far away from the city where he'd kill them off and remove their internal organs to sell in the black market for a great amount of cash.

"Look, man…" The cab driver noticed the other man's hesitation. "I know this city can be a little…rude, but trust me, there's more good than bad around here."

Peter smiled and decided that was about the nicest thing someone had said to him in a while. At last, he got into the cab and shut the door.

"And don't worry…" The driver started the car. "I don't plan on taking you to an abandoned warehouse far away from the city to kill you and remove your internal organs to sell in the black market for a great amount of cash."

Peter Quill stared at him in total shock.

"You're not the first hobo to get that idea about me."

"So, you're friends with Dr. Wilford?" The cab driver, now properly named Daniel, started.

"No! He's not my friend!" Peter clarified. "But he might know someone who is."

The driver, who was taking his smelly passenger to the famous Wilford Lab, wanted to know more.

"I see." He giggled ironically. "He's hooking up with your girl, ain't he?"

"What?" Peter was lost.

"Oh, come on! This whole "maybe he knows someone I know and blah blah blah" sounds like a lame excuse to beat up the guy who's sleeping with your girlfriend."

Where the hell was that coming from? Maybe a personal experience? And just when Quill was about to open his mouth to ask "where the hell is this coming from?", Dan (as he liked to be called) spoke:

"Because that's happened to me, you know?"

See?! Didn't I tell you it was personal?

"This girlfriend of mine…she was obsessed with Wilford. She used to cut out photos of him from newspapers and magazines and then glue them to one of the wardrobe's doors. It was like a freaking sanctuary! This one time, I found a picture of us, from our first anniversary, and instead of my face there was his! The bitch had the nerve to replace my face with that furry, disgusting one!" Daniel spoke and gestured and drove, all at the same time and in a very angry manner.

"One day, she simply took off. Disappeared! Didn't leave a note or any contact whatsoever. Then a few days later, DAYS!" he emphasized that last word "I see her, walking out of a ridiculously expensive restaurant, holding hands with that arrogant, undersized rodent."

Quill gave a small giggle. That was a good combination of adjectives which could also be used to describe another arrogant, undersized rodent he knew all too well.

"That shit ain't funny." Daniel reprimanded. "Especially, since it's happened to you too, obviously."

The leader of the Guardians didn't know if he should laugh or laugh really hard. What was obvious was that Dan clearly hadn't gotten over his relationship and was looking for any cues to talk about it. Even when there was no logic to those cues… But he was helping him after all, so Peter didn't laugh nor laugh really hard.

"Look, this thing of Wilford knowing someone I know is not an excuse or a lie." Quill explained. "In fact, he may very well be my last hope."

But Daniel was no longer paying attention to his explanation, let alone the dramatic tone he used to play the victim.

"What do women see in that filthy rodent anyway?" The taxi driver asked more to himself than Peter.

"I mean, when he was human I kinda got the appeal…The seductive smile, penetrating eyes…but after the accident…"

"After the accident?" Suddenly, Star-Lord was interested. "What accident?"

The cab driver looked surprised.

"A few years ago?" Daniel tried. "The experiment that went wrong?" Nothing. Peter had no idea what the other man was talking about and judging by Daniel's facial expression it was like he didn't know who the Kardashians were!

"Hmmm…" Quill stalled. "I was out of town."

Daniel, however, didn't buy it and raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Pretty sure it was a national thing…"

Before that tight spot could get any tighter, Peter decided to shut up and let the drive continue in total silence, with the exception of the noise made by his own thoughts.

"Well, we're here."

The cab stopped abruptly in front of a building. No. A gigantic building. No! A gigantically gigantic building. Full of windows so bright that it even hurt to look at them. At the top, an also gigantically gigantic "W" glowed even brighter than the windows.

"There it is!" Daniel exclaimed. "The famous and humble Wilford Lab."

Peter was staring perplexedly at the magnitude of that place when Daniel's voice brought him back.

"God, I hate this guy!"

Quill got out of the car and headed towards the front door of the cab. He leaned over through the open window so he could thank Daniel for the ride. The driver, however, spoke first:

"Peter, before you go, three things…" The Guardian only hoped none of them would be "you gotta pay for this ride" or "give me your kidneys!"

"If, by any chance, you see a small blonde chick, with a great ass named Shelly, tell her that her Mariah Carey CD, the one with a rainbow on the cover, is at my place and…" Daniel inhaled and exhaled audibly. "That I still love her."

Quill got moved by Daniel's last words, but couldn't help a small giggle.

"You got it."

"Second thing: It was a pleasure meeting you and I really hope you find what you're looking for."

This time, Peter broadened his smile genuinely. Maybe there was more good than bad in people after all!

"Thanks buddy." Quill said and turned his back ready to leave.

"One last thing!" Right! There were three things. Peter turned again and smiled (not so genuinely this time).

"If you have a chance, the slightest chance…" Daniel emphasized every word in an impressive seriousness. "Please, please, punch that damned rat in the face!"

Peter closed his eyes and fought back another giggle.

"If I have the chance, I will." He finally turned one more time and started to walk.

"Punch him real hard!" Dan yelled from the inside of the cab.

"Copy that."

"Then, tell me how it went. I'm normally parked where you found me."

"Gotcha." Peter walked faster now but he could still hear the driver.

"Sticking your finger into his eyeballs and a kick in the nuts are good too…and, who knows, maybe you could shove something up his assh…"

And while he walked towards his last hope (dramatic tone) to the sound of those beautiful words, Peter reconsidered the whole "there's more good than bad in people" line. Well, in best-case scenario, they were pretty much tied.