"I have a new dream where everything is perfect: the sky is pink, yellow, green, blue, and orange, and all the past has been forgotten, and we fell in love." ~Pencey Prep, "Trying to Escape the Inevitable"
The noon sun shone down harshly on the Trans-Am as it sped across the desert, approaching the place where its occupants' fates would be decided. Despite the painful anticipation each of them felt, they were mostly eager to get this over with (even in such an awfully clichéd way), and the tension was somewhat mitigated by the extra protection they carried- even Grace, sitting on Hot Chimp's lap like a toddler, had Fun Ghoul's revolver, which she had decorated in unicorn stickers.
Party Poison stopped the car as a small band of Dracs came into view, their car parked behind them, and, sure enough, Korse was there as well. He looked over at them with a cocky smile as they all got out and lined up. Party had to admit that his side didn't look very formidable, but he knew the Dracs would remember their past attacks; indeed, he was pleased to see that Korse's grin lost a bit of luster as he took in the fact that all his opponents were well-armed. If only he knew how many weapons they really carried- but that was Fun Ghoul's mastery: you couldn't tell what you were up against until it pulled sixteen knives out of its back pocket and stabbed you in the ribcage.
The Dracs had lined up as well, about twenty feet from the Killjoys, and each had brought at least one laser blaster, except for the one next to Korse, who carried a large black box. When Korse and Party stepped forward, the Drac walked between them and opened it. Inside were several types of weapons: lasers, knives, even some pistols.
Korse smirked even more. If Party hadn't known that to be his usual expression, he would've thought that Korse was in danger of tearing a face muscle. "Pick your poison, Killjoy," Korse spat.
Party thought hiss enemy's eyes lingered on the guns, and in an attempt to not play into his hands, he reached into the box and selected a dagger with a wicked-looking six-inch blade. "Always wanted to shank you," He taunted, and predictably, Korse simply shook his head in exasperation.
"I hope your fighting's better than your music, or this'll be far too easy," He retorted, picking up a matching knife, and the Drac returned to the line with his fellows, all of whom were looking incredibly tense. Their leader might be too arrogant to acknowledge the threat posed by the Killjoys, but the Dracs were clearly a little more uncertain. This, and the leftover adrenaline from the sheer badassery of their battle song "Destroyah" (with an epically shiny bassline, courtesy of his wife's tendency to get more and more fantastic every day, and a pounding guitar riff that was still ringing in his ears), filled Party with sudden confidence. He was absolutely going to stab the bastard who had killed his brother, regardless of any wounds he might sustain in the process, or the fact that he was still woefully unskilled at knife fights.
They squared off, and spent the first few seconds just circling like a pair of vultures, testing for a weak point. Party, who had never enjoyed suspense, finally dashed forward and slashed at Korse's arm, and he dodged with ease, aiming a blow at Party's back, but he had expected that, and brought up his knife to parry. It didn't work as he had hoped; the blades struck together, glanced off, and Party winced as Korse's knife cut a little skin off his knuckles. He smiled after he straightened up and faced him again, when he saw that blood was trickling from his opponent's hand where he'd been hit in the palm.
Somebody on the sidelines gasped, Show Pony called, "All right! Get him!" and Korse charged forward with his blade pointed right at Party's face. The Killjoy ducked, slashed at Korse's side but missed, and staggered as Korse punched him in the ribs, hard. He backed up, pressing a hand to the spot, as Korse instantly spun back around and came at him again, this time aiming for his stomach. Party jumped aside, jerked his dagger wildly at his enemy's arm for good measure, and quickly brought his left fist up into Korse's face. His head snapped back, but he kept his footing and tried to hit Party in the ribs again, but Party had seen that coming; he brought his knife around and sliced into Korse's arm. They stepped back a second time, panting.
As they surveyed each other- Party had a few scratches and his side ached, but Korse was definitely in worse shape, with blood dripping from both arms and a nasty swelling starting in his face- the Drac who had carried the box called out, "It doesn't matter if you win, Korse."
His leader paid no attention, as he wisely kept his guard up as Party continued to stare him down, but the Drac continued, "You'll just die anyway, especially since I didn't fill your oxygen tank this morning!"
Korse didn't react immediately, but his entourage did that for him: the other Dracs simultaneously whipped out their guns and trained them on the Drac who had spoken. He calmly reached up and removed his mask, and- Shit, seriously? Party thought- revealed himself to be Sweet Revenge.
The other Killjoys trained their weapons on him a split second later, and Korse turned to the man he knew as Leonard and snarled, "What do you mean, you didn't fill it?"
Sweet Revenge still smiled contentedly, as though he were relaxing in a sauna and not about to be shot from every conceivable angle. "I mean that even if you win- which you won't; Fun's probably taught Party too well for you to defeat him- you'll still get some awfully bad diseases from this air, and if those don't kill you, I will." He glanced down at the box of weapons at his feet. "Bad move, you know, giving a traitor your guns."
Before Sweet Revenge could even start to bend down to the box, Korse had pulled a blaster from inside his coat and fired. As the Killjoy Party had once thought of as his friend collapsed onto the sand, something registered in Party's brain: Korse's gun was bright red, and the only person he knew with a blaster that color was Kobra Kid.
So he has the nerve to use my own brother's gun in a fight? The words flashed through Party's mind along with intense rage, and he stopped caring about the fact that Korse now had two weapons and he only had a knife; he charged forward and slammed into Korse from the side, knocking them both into the dust.
He meant to stab his enemy as quickly as possible, but he had obviously not figured that Korse would be fast enough to both block the blow aimed at his head and to drive the hand with which he held Kobra's gun into Party's gut, throwing him off. In an instant, Korse had flipped him onto his back and had a knee pressed into his ribcage. He raised the dagger up to get leverage for the final strike-
- and then a voice behind Korse said "Oh no you don't!" and the Exterminator's eyes widened in shock and pain as the knife slipped from his grasp and fell harmlessly into the sand next to Party's head, and Korse keeled over, twitching.
Party Poison got to his feet shakily and looked into the beaming face of his brother, who was dressed in a Drac outfit, holding a mask in one hand and a gun in the other, and looking extremely pleased with himself. Kobra walked over to Korse, who was still breathing feebly on the ground, wrenched his laser blaster out of his hand, and whispered, "Burn." Then Kobra shot him in the head.
The Killjoys on the sidelines exploded with cheering and rushed forward, all of them trying to hug Kobra Kid at once. He fended them off and embraced Party Poison, who couldn't decide whether to laugh hysterically or collapse. He settled for stating, "But you died, Kobra. Or…did you? How are you here?"
Kobra chuckled, a sound that Party hadn't heard in forever (the three days of his life that he thought he'd never see his brother again counted as forever), and replied, "Of course I died. Jet and I were shot in the heads. But it's like we always said: Killjoys never die."
Seventeen people started asking questions all at once, then everyone shut up as a second Drac cleared its throat, stepped forward and said, "Damn right we don't die. That's why I'm still here too." And he pulled off his mask to reveal that he was Jet Star.
He was surrounded by the Killjoys as well, and welcomed back with cheers and an equal amount of questioning. Finally the two presumed-dead Killjoys ceased the endless interrogations by saying, "Okay, everybody shut up and we'll tell you what happened." They all formed a ring around Jet Star and Kobra Kid and settled down, eager to hear how the two had survived.
And Jet Star began, "Well, we were coming back from a trip to the gas station and had just given Sweet Revenge a preview of our new songs- " but he broke off as a collective wince emanated from his friends.
Kobra took over. "Look, we heard about Sweet Revenge too, and we know even more of what happened than you do. Yes, he was working for BLI, but he was one of us the whole time."
"He shot me!" Fun Ghoul protested loudly, rubbing his neck in the spot that had been burned.
"Yes, and then he shot himself," replied Jet Star, with the air of someone informing the world of a national tragedy. "We found him and took him to Korse to be healed, disguised as Dracs of course, because he wasn't meant to die."
"Uh, news flash! He is dead!" Show Pony interjected, gesturing to Sweet Revenge's body where it lay, still smoking, on the ground.
"Wait, why'd he shoot himself?" Party Poison asked, torn between jubilation and concern.
"Because he betrayed you and couldn't take the guilt," Kobra explained. "And he isn't dead," He added.
"Stunned," Jet said. "We switched the settings on Korse's gun before this duel, and on Sweet Revenge's too, before he attacked you all at the diner. We made it so that he couldn't kill any of you, not even himself. He'll wake up in a few hours and then we can show him that there are people in this world who care about him."
There was silence as the weight of the revelations sank into everyone's minds.
Finally Dr. Death Defying asked, "But how did you survive in the first place? I heard that you were killed on Route Guano, and I made an announcement to all the Killjoys…"
Jet smiled. "Oh, we heard that! We were honored to hear you give such a nice eulogy for us; it was quite inspirational. And as for your raid on Outpost 9..."
"It was the shiniest thing ever!" Kobra exclaimed, to a disapproving glare from Jet. "You guys were so kick-ass, especially Fun Ghoul, with all your hand-to-hand combat skills!"
Fun grinned. "There's a reason I'm a registered deadly weapon in six different states." He replied, to a few uneasy looks from his friends but an approving smirk from Kobra.
"We didn't die because, like Kobra said, Killjoys never die," Jet picked up where he had left off. "Remember that time when Korse shot all of us, once in the desert, and then in BLI headquarters when we came to rescue Grace?" The girl clapped as she remembered their heroic sacrifices. "But we came back. It was the same thing this time. We were shot, and the Dracs were going to burn our bodies, but then Adrenaline Angel arrived and, from what I hear, sniped the Dracs and hit Korse over the head with a guitar…knocked him unconscious." He finished, oblivious to the second collective wince that had passed through the group at the name of another of their dead.
"We managed to convince him that it had all been a strange dream when he woke up," Kobra Kid said. "We dressed as Dracs and were appointed to Korse's private guards. From there, we could keep tabs on everyone's whereabouts and protect you when necessary; it was at my advice that Adrenaline Angel came to visit you last week."
"Yeah," Party began. "About that…Kobra, I'm really sorry, but I didn't have a chance to stop her from- "
He fell silent as another Drac cleared its throat and stepped forward. Party was no longer surprised, but very curious, as the Drac revealed itself to be Adrenaline Angel, who was clearly not blown into a million pieces. Only one Drac was left now, looking very nervous as it was so greatly outnumbered.
"I'm fine," She told him needlessly. "Don't worry about it. I had a force field to protect me from the explosion- it was a Drac prototype the guys got for me, but it worked. I buried myself in the sand when I heard someone else coming."
"That was me," Hot Chimp chimed in. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Lindsey, or Hot Chimp among the Killjoys. I'm married to this dunderhead." She added with an affectionate glance at Party.
She shook hands with Adrenaline Angel, who beamed and replied, "I'm Adrenaline Angel, though you probably already know that, and I run a music and art store in Zone 6. Nice to meet'cha!"
"Wow, okay, so if we're all not dead, then…" Party said, still sorting out the confusion in his mind as he spoke. "What shall we do now?"
"You should go down to the Killjoy hideout in Baja and see if you can meet up with Jamia, Bandit, and Frank's kids. They traveled down that way when the first bombs fell since they didn't have a shelter."
Everyone turned at the unfamiliar voice to see Airi Isoda, head of BLI's security, striding toward them with a smile. The last Drac appeared relieved.
"It's okay, guys," Hot Chimp said, as her friends tensed and some reached for their guns. "She's on our side. Have any of you ever met NewsAGoGo?"
Both Party Poison and Dr. Death Defying gasped. "Yes!" Party choked, with a look on his face that suggested that his every dream was coming true all at once.
"She's only the best radio host and warmongering Twitter-user ever!" Dr. Death said, gaping at her.
"Thanks," Airi/News replied with a smirk. "But listen: you should leave as soon as possible, before I have to send a squadron after you. I'll be relaxing the anti-Killjoy mantra we've been receiving for so long, but that'll take time and until then you ought to meet up with your families."
Fun Ghoul opened his mouth to agree, but before he could say anything, the remaining Drac said slowly, "So you've always…been a Killjoy then, Airi?"
She surveyed him with a mixture of pity and contempt before replying, "Always."
The Drac ripped off his mask, and the group was met with the grinning face of someone who just had to be dead…but of course was not.
"Cherri Cola?" News whispered, at the same time both Hot Chimp and Dr. Death Defying, recognizing their former bandmate, yelled in surprised delight, "Jimmy!"
Their combined happiness was nothing next to Cherri Cola's expression as he dropped the mask, crossed the sand to NewsAGoGo quickly, enfolded her in his arms, and kissed her.
Everybody said, "Awww," excepting Grace, who covered her eyes and said, "Ewww."
They parted, and Cherri whispered, "I love you, News. I always have." At a loss for words, she embraced him.
"Well, since those two lovebirds broke the ice," Adrenaline Angel began. She never bothered to finish her sentence as she went over to Kobra Kid and pulled off his sunglasses; the sight of his gorgeous hazel orbs glinting like purest gold in the sunlight took her breath away, and they kissed.
"Um, aren't you married, Kobra?" Jet asked awkwardly.
"No?" He replied, quirking an eyebrow and smirking mischievously, his arm around Adrenaline Angel.
Fun Ghoul, blushing, turned to Party Poison and got down on one knee to confess his undying love; Hot Chimp interrupted the two Killjoys' tearful outpouring of emotion with, "Hey? Gerard? What about me?"
"Oooh! I'll take her!" Jet Star volunteered.
Lindsey surveyed him appraisingly, asking, "Are you good with kids?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Interjected Gerard. "We raised Grace together. I think we could all help out and raise the other kids, too."
"Yay! I'm gonna have sisters!" Grace cheered.
Jet Star went over and gave his new fiancée a hug.
Show Pony, grinning his trademark stupid smile, turned to Dr. Death Defying. "Dr. Death- "
"No," The DJ said shortly, in a this-conversation-is-over voice.
"I was gonna ask if I could borrow some oil for my roller skates," Show Pony elaborated, with an expression like that of a sad puppy in the rain.
"Oh," Dr. Death said; he had been expecting something much different. "Okay."
"Why? Did ya think I was gonna ask if you loved me? 'Cause I already know you do."
Dr. Death rolled his eyes.
The awkward moment was broken when Korse let out a groan and sat up.
"Oh dammit!" Kobra Kid snapped, checking his laser. "I forgot to change the settings back to 'Kill'!"
All the Killjoys pulled out their various weapons and faced Korse as he stood up unsteadily and looked around at his opponents. He then raised his hands over his head and said, "All right. I surrender."
"What?" Party Poison asked, puzzlement quickly turning to suspicion. "No remotely summoned air strikes? No secret squad of Scarecrow in an armored car? You don't have any bombs strapped in your clothing?"
Korse shook his head, looking downcast. "I wish, but this duel was my last resort. I give up."
Fun Ghoul quickly tied him up with a rope he'd found three weeks ago in his vest pocket just to make sure, and the Killjoys started talking about what his fate should be.
"We have to kill him," Kobra said. "I thought I did, and it would've been best. He tried to kill us all, and if we let him go, he'll just do the same again."
"Not necessarily," Jet Star argued. "We could have negotiations with him and BLI and come up with a mutually beneficial agreement so no one else has to die."
"I'd mediate," NewsAGoGo added hopefully.
"You would not," Korse spat, struggling in his bonds. "You've been a traitor the whole time; you'd hardly be fair and impartial."
"If only there was a way to make you see," Adrenaline Angel said sadly, "that you don't need to solve problems by killing people." (Kobra eyed her skeptically.) "All you need is love."
"And art and music were invented to promote love, not hate and violence," Party picked up. "We're not trying to hurt anyone, just to express ourselves."
"Hmm, maybe you have a point," Korse sighed. "I don't even know why I thought you'd be bad for the world in the first place. I remember that I was really unhappy with life…though that might've been just because it was the end of the weekend."
"Say wha?" Show Pony articulated blankly.
Korse shrugged. "I don't like Mondays."
The group's various loud reactions were cut off by a pair of voices from behind them, one with a British accent and the other Irish. "You stole our lines!"
The Killjoys turned to see John Lennon and Bob Geldof descending from the sky with halos. "That's copyright infringement! We could sue you." John yelled.
"Actually, that might not work, since all the lawyers are in Hell," said Jesus, emerging from a burst of heavenly sunshine.
Then Chuck Norris came down, crane-kicked an innocent passerby in the face, and left.
"Well, I guess it's up to us to save the world," Bob grumbled. "Hey, maybe I'll finally get a Nobel Peace Prize."
"I think the Nobel Committee got blown up," Korse said, rubbing his wrists as Fun Ghoul untied him. "You can have one of my Peace Prizes, though. I've got twenty-nine."
"Cool," Said Bob.
And so they all saved the world through the power of religion, love, and rock 'n' roll.
Korse became a comic book artist again, after he fixed the poison in the air with the help of everybody at BLI. Dr. Death Defying got his leg back, thanks to stem cell research. Sweet Revenge changed his name back to Cameron and got a job as the drummer in the Killjoys' band. The Killjoys went off to Baja to meet their families, and to explain to Jamia why they now had five kids to raise together.
And most of them got married and all of them lived happily ever after.
THE END!