And then- I'm not sure why, but then, that's been kind of a common thing these past couple of days- I raise my arm to my head, pressing the deployed cannon up to my right temple.
It'd be painless, that's for sure. Bam, right through my head, making a colorful splatter on the wall.
Would they miss me?
Oh, don't ask that! Of course they'd miss me. Vinnie would be torn up- he'd go off and destroy Limburger's tower on his own, and then he'd come back and puddle up in private, and Throttle would catch him and they'd .. well, Throttle can't shed tears, but he would try.
Stoker would probably yell at my corpse- I don't know what he would say, but he'd yell, because that's how he deals with death. He gets mad. It's a flaw he has a right to have.
I lower my arm, thinking about Momma and Dad, Rimfire and Primer and Sis. Even if I wanted to, even if I deserved to, (like I do now) I can't shoot myself to end my problems.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, "stupid."
"What?"
I turn in my seat, looking up at Vinnie. "Ahm.. uh.. Nothin'."
"Muhumm," he grunts, staring at me with that look that says 'you're full of so much crap right now'.
"Didja want somethin'?" I ask.
"Yeah- phone for ya," and he hands me the chunky handset.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Mister.. Modo, right?" the tiny voice chirps.
"Yeah! Are you calling about Mikey?" Maybe he came out of his coma- maybe he's alright, maybe I can see him-
"Yes. Um."
That tone is not good.
"He's.. Sir.. Um... "
Oh, God.
"He's dead, sir. His heart failed, about a hour ago, and we couldn't revive him. Sir, I'm so sorry- sir, are you there? Hello?"
I set the phone down. End the call.
Wha..
He's..
"Bro?" Vinnie comes over, his hand on my shoulder.
"Oh," is all that I can muster.
"He's dead, isn't he?"
Screw machismo.
I lean back, my hands over my face now, and break down.
I'm ebul. Oh yes. :D
Reviews, please?