AUTHOR'S NOTE
This party's getting a little… crowded.
I think I need to trim it down.
Four's a nice, neat number.
Joyful Tree Friends
Handy's truck rattled along the dirt road, kicking up dust and rocks. Twilight was setting in now, so having a pair of headlights was a quiet blessing. Lumpy sat in the front with Handy. The other three rested in the back. Neither of them talked. The only words in the car came from the cassette tape Handy played in the stereo. Old mariachi music, from the sound of it.
"So uh," Handy said, "Why exactly are we headed to meet Giggles? You know she's kind of… a fucking tyrant, right?"
Lumpy shrugged, "I have to. She's got someone I care about."
Handy shook his head, "Listen man, I think if Giggles took someone from you, you oughta cut your losses. Nothing good'll come from this."
Lumpy thought a moment, then said, "I had two arms yesterday. I don't care if I have none tomorrow."
"...your funeral man. I'm just the taxi driver."
They were quiet again. The music played. Lumpy looked out his window. Handy watched the road. It'd be another half hour before they made it to Giggles', given the winding road they had to take to get there. All they could do now was ride.
"Hey…" Handy squinted. He could've swore he saw something shifting on the ridge next to them.
"What?" Lumpy asked. His voice was unconcerned.
"Something was-"
There was a screech. A thin-limbed form leapt from the darkness and landed on top of the truck, barely collapsing the top of it.
"Holy shit!" Handy swerved and struggled to keep the truck steady. He slammed on the brakes and whatever was on top of the truck was thrown off in front of them. The headlights saw it slam into the ground, then stand up on legs thrice the length of its body. Two arms dangled loosely at its side, as if the bones in them were broken in several places. Its head swayed back and forth, a frothing smile pulled its lips wider than they were meant to go.
"Holy fucking shit!" Handy screamed. Lumpy threw his door open and jumped out of the truck. Handy had tried to shift into reverse to escape it, but he wasn't fast enough. The thing snapped out like a trap, shattering the windshield with its face and grabbing Handy's head in its mouth. Lumpy watched it crunch down on Handy's skull, then shake his corpse around until his neck split and the torso went flying off.
From the back of the truck, Pop, Toothy and Buckets spilled out.
"Another one?" Pop drew his revolver. Buckets was already aiming his. The thing was closing in on Lumpy, who had landed harder than he expected. He couldn't pull himself up in time. The thing leaned down until it was face to face with him and it laughed. It laughed and showed off its elongated teeth. He… recognized it. It was a guy from the camp that would always beg Lumpy for some Joy. Nutty. That was his name.
Pop fired. Buckets fired. They both it, but it just seemed to irritate the thing. It howled, but the howl was a stuttering sort of thing, like a hyena. It almost sounded like laughter. Buckets shot it again, Pop followed. It recoiled from the shots, but it just hissed and laughed again. It stood up straight and started towards them on its long legs.
Toothy, meanwhile, was trying his best to hide. He watched his friends shoot the thing. He knew they couldn't kill it like that. Something welled up in his throat. His first thought was that it was puke, but when nothing came out, he decided it must've been courage. Toothy slipped out of the back, into the driver's seat. Thank god the keys were still there.
Buckets emptied out both pistols. Pop was struggling to reload. The thing was closing in on truck sputtered, Toothy slammed the gas and it kicked forward. He spun the wheel and skidded, the truck slamming its side into the thing. The truck kept going, dragging the thing along with it until it slammed into a rock wall and splatted the innards of both the thing and the truck across it.
Toothy, now panting, fell out of the side of the truck. He'd killed it. He felt something well up in his throat again, but this time it really was puke. When he looked up from his vomit, Lumpy was next to him.
"Hey. Not bad." He said.
Toothy was shaking, "Y-yeah, pretty heroic huh? Sorry about the truck."
Lumpy sat down next to him, "Fuck it. I need a rest anyway. We'll set up camp here. Make a fire or something."
That's just what they did. They were able to scrouge a few blankets and some kindling out of Handy's truck, lit a fire and set up camp for the night. Toothy and Pop fell asleep pretty quickly. Lumpy stayed up to tend the fire. And Buckets? Well it didn't surprise Lumpy that Buckets stayed up. They were sitting together, watching the flames crackle and spark. Lumpy couldn't believe his ears when Buckets spoke.
"Who is it?" He said.
Lumpy stared at Buckets.
"Who…" Buckets coughed. He didn't seem comfortable talking and his voice was strained, "Who is it? That you're looking for? The… girl?"
"How do you know I'm looking for anyone?"
Buckets's arm flipped out from underneath his poncho. His pistol twirled around his finger. He pressed the barrel to his head.
"I knew from the moment I saw you. You can see what a man truly is… when he has a gun pressed to his head. I've seen it before. I saw it in you. You're looking for someone. Someone you'd tear the world apart for."
Lumpy didn't say anything.
Buckets spoke again, "Would you kill for her? ...Kill Giggles? Kill me?"
"You're asking questions you don't want the answer to, Buckets."
Buckets nodded. "No. I want to hear it. I hate cowards. I hate people who won't get their hands dirty. Tell me."
Lumpy looked Buckets right in the eyes, "I'd kill anyone to keep her safe."
Buckets holstered his pistol. "I'm glad I followed you...Lumpy."
"Let's hope you don't live to regret it, Buckets."
Lumpy pulled his poncho over his body. He leaned up against the side of the truck and closed his eyes.
"Goodnight Buckets."
Buckets didn't seem to relax. He said, "Lumpy… My name isn't Buckets."
"What is it?"
Buckets looked down at the fire, "I hope you never live to learn it."
