Well, the request is taking longer than I thought, so I'll do some updating as I work on it.
After this I will probably begin the next chapter of Cell, but it probably won't be out until after Who Made Who.
I don't often admit to liking Nickelback, but this is one of the songs that hung with me through high school, so why not use it?
You know the drill.
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Chapter 18: This Afternoon
"Landlord said I should buy a tent
But he can kiss my a** cause I paid the rent
So I doubt he'll kick me out this afternoon."
- Nickelback
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"What's going on?" Mordecai asked, glaring to the group of muscle bound men who had managed to surround the park's staff.
The only member of the group with a pair of sunglasses glanced toward him, his arms remaining crossed, "Waiting for the volleyball tournament to start."
The confusion evident on his face, he looked to Benson who shrugged, his own arms likewise crossed.
"Then you're going to be waiting for a while," he answered, "I told you the other night there's no tournament this year."
The murmuring continued behind them, several voices were questioning the probability of a fight breaking out.
Contemplating the odds himself, Mordecai began to assess their rivals. The group of seven were in no doubt top physical condition. The only weakness he could discover were their proportions. Half the group were tall with impressive upper body strength, while the rest were shorter with their points of physical training being their lower body. The only exception was their leader, his height being average, but muscle tone anything but. His entire body appeared to be chiseled out of beefcake, a sure rival for Skips if he'd ever seen one.
Inside the circle, however, was a much more humorous contrast.
Skips was pushing against the wall of men, coming close to breaking through but was shoved back by another of the team. Muscle Man was standing back to back with Thomas, glancing back and forth with a strange form of confused focus in his eyes. Thomas was visibly shaken, his eyes set with panic while his arms were raised into what might've resembled fists on a calmer fighter. Fives managed to break free by floating over their captors and made a beeline for the worried form of Pops, remembering the one command they were ordered to follow.
Benson stood at the edge, the stern expression on his face never wavering.
Removing his sunglasses, the man sighed, "I wanted to be civil, but it looks like we don't have a choice."
Receiving the nod, half the wall disassembled and converged on the obvious threat of Skips while the others ran toward the tables and party supplies. The destruction started with tables overturning, several of the guests being lucky enough to jump from their seats.
"Hey," came a loud, amplified voice, "We're not getting paid by the hour, would you mind hurrying this up?"
Looking toward the stage, the leader scoffed and shook his head, "Is this what you replaced us with?"
Benson, the distaste for the group on the stage aside, shrugged, "Look at the crowd."
"You saying we can't bring in an audience?"
"Maybe twelve years ago when you were still on the Olympic team, Chet."
Stepping forward slowly, his eyes screaming murder as he stood inches away, "You're talking a big game."
"It's not talking when it's true."
A muted guitar chord being strummed echoed around them.
"I wanna kiss you all over."
This time, they both looked toward the stage, "Shut up!"
"One game," Chet said, nodding toward the van, "One game, we win, Volleyball will be the only event allowed here. We lose-"
"We never have to look at you again," Benson said while several of the members were already returning with a bundled net and posts.
"Sounds like a deal."
Turning back to where Skips was allowed to stand, Benson looked at his dumbstruck staff.
"Okay," he said, his voice rushed by fact that their rivals would have the court assembled in no time, "We have to win this one. We'll have Mordecai start in back since he's the tallest-"
"What's going on?"
Mordecai turned to Eileen and Caroline who approached from the direction of the main entrance.
"Perfect!" he shouted, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her toward Benson.
"What're you doing?!"
"She's a volleyball player!"
Benson looked at her for a moment, "Really?"
Confused at suddenly being the center of attention, she nodded while her eyes darted to the rest of the group, "I'm on… the team at school."
After several moments of contemplation, he eventually nodded, "Good. We need you to start in back with Mordecai. We'll need you too, Eileen."
"Why me?"
"Well," he began, trying to think of the best way to phrase it, "We need a… vertically challenged person in front, and I really don't think Muscle Man would work out. Rigby, as much as I hate to admit it, would have been perfect, but no one knows-"
He had to pause and take a deep breath to his face from reddening.
Heaving a sigh, knowing she couldn't find a way around it, she nodded, "All right. Who're we playing?"
Benson and Mordecai pointed to the impromptu court, "Them."
One of the taller players was standing in between a stack of burst volleyballs and a stack of new ones. Dropping another onto the pile of useless rubber, he picked up a new one. Inhaling deeply, he began to blow into the valve, doing his best to control his breath, but ultimately overfilled it to the point of exploding. Rolling his eyes, he reached for another.
"Nope," Caroline said as she turned to leave.
"C'mon!" Farrah's voice shouted from the other side of the field, "These guys are losers!"
Stopping the preparations they were making, they all looked toward the direction her voice came, the player tasked with inflating the ball breaking into a dash after finding her.
Mordecai sprinted toward the crowd that had begun to scatter and intercepted him in a dive, bringing him to the ground in a tumble. Surprised, he grabbed Mordecai by the throat and raised his fist, only to be thrown aside by Skips.
"Wait until the game's over," the leader shouted, bringing the player back to the court.
"Thanks," Mordecai said hoarsely before shouting to his sister, "Keep your mouth shut, Farrah!"
"Aw."
"This is why we need your help," Benson said, stopping Caroline from where she was already attempting to sneak away, "Defeat is the only thing that can stop these psychos."
Mordecai watched, as she stood with her back to them, the movement of her head showing she was considering a jog back to the train station would be by far the sanest choice. However, the slouch of her shoulders gave her away. With a displeased sigh, she turned back.
"Alright, but if I get killed, I swear I'll haunt all of you."
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Looking around the crowded interior of the diner, he knew the chances of them being able to leave were slim. So, while he waited, he glanced over the newspaper that another patron had left at his table, pretending that he was interested in anything it offered him.
The brief lull in the otherwise blaring music had ceased, the returning sound mixing together to create a faint but otherwise unintelligible impression of the event taking place not even half a mile away.
"Sorry, we're swamped today," Margaret's voice said several tables away in what could only be forced enthusiasm.
After a short back and forth of polite conversation, she heaved a sigh and dropped into the chair across from him, "Why is it so busy?"
Still focusing on the same article, he shook the paper, "Looks like that herd of turkeys was sighted near MacPherson."
Blinking, she looked at the black and white picture, "Huh, so they have."
Folding the paper and returning it to it's previous spot, he leaned back, "So, I guess you won't be able to leave today."
Giving a nod, she rubbed her eyes and shook her head, "You guessed right. Eileen had today off and the boss is already looking for another waitress to fill in. He's too nice to say he isn't happy with how many days I've called off."
"Well, it's not that big of a deal."
"Why?" she asked, the fatigue slowly finding it's way into her voice, "Had anything special planned?"
Shaking his head, he looked through the window, "Nah, just didn't want to help with the concert."
The bell on the glass door rang as more customers walked in, bringing yet another sigh from the weary worker, "Well, I have to get back work. I'll see you tonight, when I get off."
Nodding, he rose from his chair, "Yeah. Lo-"
He stopped in mid sentence when he noticed she had already began talking to the new customers.
Face flushing, he lowered his head and walked through the door, not bothering to look back. He'd thought of using the L-word for awhile but had always shrugged it off. Figures that when he finally gained the courage, it was a day she wasn't paying close enough attention.
Suffering the defeat, he crossed the street and shoved his hands into his pockets, figuring he could hide out in the house awhile before returning to work.
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Benson winced as the ball spun toward him in mid-flight, his quick dash to intercept it not a good feeling for his injured legs. He wasn't able to send it back over the net, but he managed to direct it to Caroline who leapt into the air and expertly returned it.
He had only a moment to rest, his body promising him it'd need more than that to continue.
The music had returned, distracting most of the crowd from the game but it didn't keep a small portion from encircling the court, a risky move on their part.
They were behind by one point, nothing short than a miracle, the other team being in perfect physical condition but lacked, however, the attention span and knowledge of street rules in a non-refereed game. They weren't above cheating, however, and that was much of what they owed the score to.
Benson locked eyes with Chet, having subbed in for one of his players after the second fault. Skips would have been the best match for him, but him and the rest of the park's crew were needed elsewhere. While the coach agreed to leave the players alone until after the game, that didn't extend to the rest of the event.
Benson allowed a small grin to fight it's way through the numbing pain in his hands, the mixture of confusion and the onset of fatigue in his rival's face triggering a wave of euphoria, leading him to believe they'd already won.
One of the shorter players had found himself in the back of their side and his lack of upper body strength kept him from hitting the ball hard enough to send it over the net. Instead, it began drop short as a taller player attempted to swat it, but his lack of lower body strength hindered him much the way it had the other. Unable to reach it in time, the ball landed near the middle of their court.
"Yeah!" Mordecai shouted, slapping Eileen and Caroline's hands as they likewise celebrated.
"Come on!" Chet shouted, kicking his own player while he tried to climb back to his feet.
Rotating, Benson found himself in the back row beside Eileen, "We still have to get this point to win."
Nodding, they began running back to their positions.
Seeing this, Chet reacted in what was either an act of desperation, or genuine hatred. Raising his leg into the air, he stomped with all of his remaining strength, the force of the impact shaking the ground beneath them. The taller, more agile Caroline attempted to catch herself, but lost balance and toppled backwards. Eileen wasn't as lucky.
Stumbling, she tripped over her left foot and spun to the ground in what was a horrid sight despite any excessive violence.
"Gah!"
Amid the laughter, they rushed to where she was clutching her ankle, fearing the worst.
"Are you ok?!"
She nodded, but visibly she wasn't. She slowly moved her injured foot but eventually found she couldn't.
"Come on," Benson said, "Try to put some weight on it."
Allowing Mordecai to help her stand, Eileen found herself wavering on her right foot, unable to do anything but keep herself balanced with the other, "Sorry guys, I don't think I can move much."
"It's not your fault," Benson said, "I shouldn't have made you play to begin with."
"Come on, losers!" Chet taunted, "Last point, thinking about giving up?"
Mordecai's eyes narrowed and he turned to look at Benson, hoping he had a plan.
"Mordecai," he said quietly, "Did you plug the stage into the circuit I told you to?"
"No, I plugged into twelve," he answered, slightly confused, "Why?"
Benson looked over their side of the court. The placement left them with their backs to the stage where the forms of the musicians were still thrashing around. Still relatively close, the music was loud enough that they had to shout to understand each other.
Amid the negative reactions to those spectating, he reached into his pocket and removed the unopened pack of ear plugs. He gave a nod as the applause began.
"Mordecai, do you still have your ear plugs?"
Confused, he nodded and removed the pack, "Yeah, why?"
"Give'em to Eileen," he said while handing his own to Caroline, "Put these in. When I give you the signal, send the ball back as hard as you can."
Afraid to ask, she obeyed.
"What's the plan?"
"Do you have your phone?"
Another nod.
"Okay, message Martin to turn everything up as loud as it can go when I signal him. The circuit they're plugged into is high voltage, so it should be able to triple their output. Most of the crowd are teenagers, so their ears will be able to handle it, but the other team's adults who can't stand rock."
A grin flashed as his fingers flew over the keypad, hoping he'll get it before the next song.
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While the bassist checked his tuning, Martin drank from a water bottle near his amp, reaching into his pocket as he did so.
"New message," he said, his own voice barely registering amid the ringing in his ears.
When we give the signal, give it all you've got.
He quickly scanned the field and seen Mordecai waving frantically.
"Hmm," he said while glancing to his already maxed out amplifier, "Hey, Lyle, you still have any of the Widowmakers left?"
Nodding, he reached into his bag and removed a plain cardboard box and handed it to him, "I don't like the looks of this."
"Just be prepared to go all out," he returned, pulling the oversized vacuum tubes from the package.
After installing them in his amplifier, he switched it back on, the lights for the settings were illuminated brighter than before, almost to the point of not being able to look at them. Increasing the controls on the pedal board, he walked to the microphone, slowly increasing the volume.
Beginning what he was sure would be their final song, he muted the top strings while he strummed then released while he picked the single note.
"Don't you wanna feel like a rebel? A renegade on the run."
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With Eileen unable to cover her entire area, they were forced to intercept the ball before it dropped low enough to enter her boundaries, a task difficult on it's own.
They defended the onslaught, biding their time until they could strike with their last ditch effort.
Knowing something was wrong, the other team huddled toward the middle of their court, the area where many of the last volleys had landed, and sent the ball back low, almost hugging the net. And then the time came.
Whether a mistake or an attempt to progress the back and forth, the ball rose high into the air, it's arc sending it perfectly within Caroline's reach.
"Now," Benson shouted while he and Mordecai flailed their arms.
Caroline crouched, eyes focused on the ball, and jumped as high as she could.
'Don't mess this up,' she thought.
Guessing that was the signal, Martin stepped on the board, the shockwave emanating from their amplifiers strong enough to make him lurch forward and brace himself against a stage monitor.
Right as her hand connected with the ball, it felt like an invisible hand much stronger than her own pushed against hers, rocketing the ball straight into the enemy's territory. It would have been easy for a team of their stature to send back, if it wasn't for them covering their ears and shouting at the high decibel assault they were struck by.
And just as he'd planned, they didn't stop the ball.
What was once a small gathering, was now nearly half the audience, and they were all cheering for the winning team.
"Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Mordecai yelled as he ran in circles, arms stabbing at the sky.
Even Benson allowed a cheer to escape.
Eileen moved to join the celebration, but stumbled and fell to her knees where she likewise shouted.
A mixture of disbelief and lack of adrenaline kept Caroline frozen where she landed, a statue proving the event had really happened.
Fury beyond expressing evident in his face, Chet stood, glaring back at the victors. Silently, he waved a hand and the menagerie of testosterone began the loser's walk to the van, already accustomed to the shouting and beratement they were sure to receive.
"This isn't the last you'll hear from us."
"On a volleyball court it is," Benson returned.
"You did it!" Skips shouted as they approached.
"Yeah!" Muscle Man shouted, "Even I have to admit, I would have ruined that last shot."
"What?" Caroline asked.
"I said," Muscle Man repeated, "I WOULD HAVE RUINED THAT LAST SHOT!"
"Take out the ear plugs!" Mordecai shouted while motioning to his ears.
"Hold on, let me take out these ear plugs!"
"Geez," Rigby asked as he looked over the smashed tables and debris, "What happened here?"
"You would have known if you were here," Benson began, his voice wavering between unpleased and full blown angry.
"I had to go to the bathroom, calm down!"
Mordecai stepped forward but was stopped by Benson, "Not this time."
Rigby blinked, looking over the bleak faces staring back at him.
"If you were here like you were supposed to be, we wouldn't have had to use Eileen as the… what's it called?"
"We call them the catchers," Caroline added, a little frightened by the sudden change of mood in her previously levelheaded team mate.
Rigby blinked, surprise prevalent on his face, "What's she doing here?"
"Half of your job," Benson answered, "I've waited for this day for a long time."
Through a form of telepathy or a manner of systemic thought, he guessed what he was about to say and shook his head, "No way."
Benson nodded, his face now as red as the rest of his body, "You're fired!"
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A little longer than I'd planned, but I think it worked out.
Sorry again for the sloppy and much delayed chapter. I attempted to use the style I am in Cell, but it will take some time before I can manage to add it in here without it being a complete monstrosity.
Anyway, thanks for reading.