Despite Pam's best efforts to hamper their pursuer with hunks of pizza, the blood dinosaur refused to slow. With the hillbilly's shouted guidance the three monsters managed to climb several cheese-coated staircases without being eaten. But she knew they couldn't keep this frantic pace. Chris' ventilators had already kicked into overdrive and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. didn't have the time to summon horses. Must act soon.
"How strong could dinosaur be?" Pam shouted up at the green-haired bumpkin scrambling in front of them. He pulled G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. up a crusty ledge before chucking some slices at the knight, then continued fleeing. Pam did likewise for Chris, noting the dinosaur enjoyed the mid-race snack. She put her arm around Chris and leaped forward onto a stretch of flat cobblestone. If they sprinted, they might widen the gap between hunter and prey.
"That there body y'all saw was mah good friend #Noid!" The yokel's breath came in sharp bursts. "Now lemme tell y'all somethin' #Noid was a damn good fighter, ya hear? Best dang pizzamancer this side of Kentuck if I do say so mahself." He jerked his thumb at G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. "Now he's dead and some furbag's wearin' his skivvies!"
G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. shrugged. "What's a hashtagnoid?"
Pam wasn't convinced. Noticing they were about to scramble up an incline again, she suggested she stay and fight to buy them time. "I can hold it back. And no one will be in way." She ran her fingers along her battleaxe's hilt, excited by the prospect of finally having a worthy opponent.
"Well just wait a dang second," their guide spluttered. "If yer so willin' to get yer dick torn off and thrown in the ocean, at least let us git to the fountain. There's a narrow pass so he won't be able to git around ya if ya wanna go and fight 'im."
"A choke point!" Chris exclaimed. "Certainly that will give us an advantage!"
Pam glared at the Pebble, though he seemed not to notice. She'd already resisted bringing him along. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s ability to shift dimensions proved useful, but the wrestler had yet to prove his worth. As of now no one could match Pam's strength, and she'd been running too long to not reward herself with some fun. As the group scrambled down a cheesy cliff, they reached a flat plane which contained a circular pool of ankle deep water.
"Green boy! Take rest of them to top!" Pam ordered. Even as she unbuckled her battleaxe the water trembled from the shock of the lumbering dinosaur's steps. The guide seemed to want to stay, but the tenor of Pam's voice caused him to think better of it. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., once again able to stretch his limbs to preposterous proportions, extended an oversized arm to a ledge above the fountain and allowed the hillbilly and Chris to climb up the fuzzy bridge. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. too flung himself to safety and watched Pam from afar. He'd already been on the receiving end of her anger; there was no reason to be within range once she went off.
The blood dinosaur was briefly slowed by the narrow pass. It widened the pass by smashing through with a single thrust from its contorted snout. That second of distraction was all Pam needed. She launched herself into the air and summarily brought her axe down on the monster's knight head. Its helmet caved under the force of the swing and the knight dropped to its knees. The T-Rex head made a half-hearted snap at Pam's arm which she batted away, then repaid by loping off the arm from which the second head protruded. Blood and marinara soaked her combat boots. She felt a shiver of pleasure and did her best to hide her excitement. Always good to make statement with your entrance. Her comrades descended the cliff and examined the corpse. Their guide made a visible effort to distance himself from our protagonist.
For the first time Pam was able to get a clear view of the strange creature they'd followed all this way. His frame was real little, scrawny with not a visible muscle. Frail skin barely covered his whole body which was so white it was possible he painted it. A flap of a nose was barely visible between his jutting, rouge-smeared cheeks. Perhaps he had lips. It was impossible to say, since a grody, thin mustache obscured his mouth from view. His eyes too were hard to see through his long lashes. Possibly the most unnerving aspect of this new acquaintance was the fact that every hair on his body seemed to be dyed bright green, from his lashes to his stache, bowl cut to balls (of which Pam had unfortunately caught glimpses during their escape). All in all, just a rowdy, dirty boy.
G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. broke the silence. "Say there old chap, didn't catch your name."
The nasty boy's mouth twitched. "Nice to meet y'all. The name's Scum. But most folks call me 'The Junker.'"