AUTHOR'S NOTE
I think it's starting to come back to me now
It's getting easier.
They say the first step is always the hardest
Though I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing
Joyful Tree Friends
Pop tapped his finger on his chin, nodded and said,
"I figure if we cut through this area we'll be on our way right proper. We'll have to pass by the club, and I'm not particularly fond of the fucker who runs it, but it'll save us some time. Plus they've got a bar over there. We can pick up a few liquid rations if you know what I mean. God, my throat's been parched ever since we nearly died back there, and all the bullets I was sweating while you held a gun to your head certainly didn't help matters, I'll tell you what…"
Pop kept talking, but Lumpy stopped listening after he mentioned the club. Lumpy just let Pop ramble on like he loved to do. Toothy was on his other side, Buckets behind him.
"H-hey, uh, Lumpy?" Toothy said, "What's the deal with uh… him?"
Lumpy raised an eyebrow, "You mean Buckets?"
"His name is Buckets?"
"I dunno. I just figured I'd call him that. He doesn't seem to object."
Toothy frowned, "But why are we bringing him along? What if he betrays us?"
"He doesn't look like the type." Lumpy said plainly.
Toothy, "But… but how can you even say that? He doesn't LOOK like anything! He's wearing a bucket on his head for Christ's sake! How can we trust him?"
"Quit worrying so much. We'll find something to be worried about later."
That was hardly the most reassuring thing Lumpy could say, but it kept Toothy quiet for the time being. They reached the "Club" shortly after, the club itself being nothing more than an abandoned office building that had been repurposed as a hang out for one of the thugs. A sign reading "Disco's Discotheque" was hung over the door. A truck was parked nearby and some assholes were playing cards next to it.
"God. Can't stand those motherfuckers," Pop started up again, "With their ass-sounding music, their ugly ass hair, their ass-backwards clothing…"
Lumpy still wasn't listening. They planned to walk right by and keep on their way, when a drunken asshole stumbled up to them.
"Heeey, where you going man?" He pushed up against Lumpy. Lumpy shoved him away, but the asshole stayed on his feet, "W-what's the matter man? Don't you wanna see the girl?"
Lumpy froze. He whirled around,
"What the fuck did you just say?" Lumpy asked.
"Y-yeah," the asshole smiled, "She's in there. You heard about her, right? The only girl in the wasteland, and she's right in there. All you gotta do is buy like, six or seven drinks and Disco'll let you fuck 'er! I-I mean she's ugly as shit, but pussy is pussy… I just had her twice! You gotta try-"
Lumpy cracked the asshole across the jaw and he was sprawled out on the ground before Lumpy could even draw his fist back.
"Ahh, ahh what the fuck?" The asshole's jaw was already starting to swell, "What's your problem?"
"Hey Toothy," Lumpy said, "You wanted to know if we could trust Buckets, right? Buckets. Kill this asshole."
Buckets didn't say a word. Didn't nod. He pulled the revolver from his pocket, twirled it around his finger and blew the asshole's brains out.
Lumpy nodded, "Yeah. I trust him. How about you, Toothy?"
"Holy shit Lumpy." Toothy said.
Lumpy said, "And now, you're gonna do that to the fucker who runs this club, you got that, Buckets."
Buckets cocked his pistol. Lumpy shoved open the door. At this hour there was only a few drunks sitting around. They hardly cared when Lumpy cold-cocked the bouncer at the staircase to Disco's office, nor did they care when Buckets put a bullet in said bouncer's face and followed him up to the top floor where both Disco and the girl were waiting. Lumpy kicked in the door, but Disco didn't even jump up from the lounge chair where he sat, drinking and looking out his window the the wastelands
"Hey there cool cat," Disco said, stretching the 'hey' for as long as he could, "You here for a little playtime? Yeah you are? Girl's right in the back room. Have a little fun for Ol' Disco, will ya?"
Lumpy looked to Buckets.
"Him." he growled.
Buckets twirled his pistol and fired. Disco's head snapped back and he slumped over in his chair. Buckets twirled the gun back into his holster while Lumpy walked to the closet across the room, where she was being kept. His hands were trembling. He wasn't ready, but he had to see her. He just-
"You stupid fucker."
Lumpy spun around. Disco pulled himself out of his chair. There was bullet right between his eyes and a thin stream of blood dripping down his face but he still pulled himself out of his chair. He reached into the pocket of his leisure suit and slipped a blue pill past his lips. Lumpy cringed at the scent of buttercups.
"You're dead, fucker!" Disco charged him and slammed into him like a truck. The wall cracked behind him from the force of the impact. Disco pushed a hand onto his throat and started punching him in the guts. Lumpy struggled to put his hand on Disco and push him away, but the trauma in his stomach and the lack of air kept his limbs weak. He felt like he was going to white out.
Bucket squeezed both triggers at once, then again. His arms stayed steady as he put twelve shots into Disco's back, rapid fire. Disco dropped Lumpy, who was barely awake and choking on his own breath.
Disco growled, "Oh yeah? You too, fuckface?"
In one quick motion, Buckets slid both pistols to his side, then drew his hands over to his right side, where a large, gold-plated revolver rested under his arm. Disco charged. Buckets drew. A crash loud enough to shake the windows rolled out from the barrel and Disco skidded to a stop. He felt intense pain in his shoulder, but nothing in his arm. This was because his arm had been severed clean off.
"H-..hah… holy shit." Disco panicked. He was smiling, but he felt horrified. He reached for his Joy, pulled another pill out of his pocket. His hand was shaky, it slipped out and rolled across the floor.
"No, no." Disco followed it across the room, picked it up right before it rolled under his chair, "Yeah, this'll-"
The crash sounded out again. Disco, hit dead in the chest, flew backwards, right out his window. There was a dead thud. He was gone. Buckets holstered his pistol again. Lumpy managed to pull himself back up.
"Thanks Buckets." He said. Buckets didn't react. Lumpy finally pushed open the door. He needed to see Buddy now, more than ever. It was dark inside the back room. He fumbled for the lights.
"H-hello?"
Wait. That wasn't Buddy's voice. Lumpy's hand hit the light switch at last and the lights came on. There was a filthy mattress right in front of him, and laying on that mattress was a worker. The worker was tied, naked and sloppily covered in makeup
"Oh god please," He squealed, "D-don't fuck me. Please. My name is Handy and I'm not a woman! I, I have a mustache for God's sake!"
"What the fuck is this?"
The worker struggled in his bonds, "That sick fuck Disco, h-he brought me up here, drugged me and tied me up. He gets guys drunk and brings them up here to fuck me. He says I'm a girl and they're too drunk to realize I'm not! I'm not! Oh god I just wanna go back to driving my truck. Please! Anything but lying here and getting fucked!"
"...Is that your truck outside?"
"Y-yeah, yeah is!" Handy nodded desperately. "If you untie me, I'll bring you wherever you want!"
"To Giggles's base."
Handy nodded, "Y-yeah, what the fuck ever. I'll drive you right up to her front door! God just let me out!"
Lumpy leaned down and undid his restraints, then handed him a pair of pants that had been thrown in the corner. Handy clearly didn't care if they were his or not. He walked (crooked) with Lumpy and Buckets out of the club where Pop and Toothy were waiting by the corpse of Disco.
"So I guess you took care of things in there, given how that freak fell out of his window here. Who's he?" Pop asked and made a nod towards Handy.
Lumpy shook his head, "Apparently he was their 'Girl'. Now he's our truckdriver."
"Ha! A truck? Fantastic." Pop puffed his pipe, "I was getting tired of walking anyway. Never cared for it. I have more callouses on my feet than the time that potato slut of a wife of mine took us-"
There was a screech. Pop jumped forward. Disco's body began to twist and writhe on the ground. His neck stretched out on his spine as it grew, elongated with tumors. His remaining arm swelled and stretched, along with his legs, until he looked like some kind of freakish tripod. His eyes, both whitened and blurry, dangled out of his head. The Disco thing scanned over the party and shrieked again. Its head drew back, screaming all the while and-
Exploded. The scream had masked the crack of Bucket's larger gun. He had blown the things head clean off. The remainder of it collapsed in a pile of stretched flesh.
Lumpy, still awestruck, could only think to say,
"Thanks Buckets."
Buckets holstered his gun.
…
"So, she's fucking gone?" Giggles tossed her cigarette butt aside and lit another. Cuddles trembled.
"She… she stabbed me and the guard. She got away." He said.
"Because you had to go in there and play daddy. You want her to be a pussy like you? Then stop babying her, you faggot."
Cuddles could see Giggles's rage, even through that stolen face she wore like a hood. She put the second cigarette out on her own shoulder and shuddered,
"You fucked me, Cuddles. You have two options: You either unfuck me, or I fuck you back." Giggles growled, "Do you understand me? This is our fucking future. Her womb is the last one. You want to be the man who ended his own species? Get this fucking girl back."
"B-but how am I-"
"I gave you a gun, didn't I asshole? Figure it out."
Cuddles swallowed hard. He nodded.
"Good. Now get the fuck out of my face."
