"Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Randy scratched his moustache. "...Jimbo and Ned...shot at you?"

"Yes! Just a while ago!" Stan assured him, at on an arm of the couch.

"We saw it! Ned aimed right at us!" Cartman added.

"Y-Yeah!" Jimmy nodded energically.

Sharon looked at her husband, evidently unsure of what to think. But since he looked even more confused than she was and the boys seemed really shaken up, she grabbed her cell phone and walked to a corner, careful not to bump into any of the candles she had filled the house with.

"You didn't piss your uncle off, right?" Randy asked Stan, his eyes narrowed in deep thought.

"Of course not, dad!"

"Sorry, but it is kinda hard for me to believe that they did such thing."

"Well, you'd better believe it, Mr. Marsh, because it's true. We were there." Kyle insisted. "Thank God they missed but they tried to kill us, they did!"

"But I just can't understand why! Why would my brother...?"

Someone knocked at the door. Sharon, being the closest, opened it with the phone still against her ear.

"Hello, Sharon! They didn't bring electricity back yet, huh?"

Sharon's eyes opened wide. The boys drew back to the other extreme of the living room, as if a ghost had come in. Jimbo and Ned took the liberty to come into the house, Jimbo showing a merry smile and Ned, as inexpressive as he had always been.

"Oh, officer, he is here! Come quick!" Sharon nervously examined them. They didn't seem to bring any guns with them, but she was sure they had brought something: one of those big hunting knives, some little gun.

"Huh?" Jimbo pointed at Sharon with the head like asking him what was wrong with her.

"Ah, just the two we were talking about..." Randy took a few steps towards them.

"Oh, yeah? I didn't call you before coming...or did I, Ned?"

Ned shook his head.

"We supposed you were at home and you wanted to have a drink...Did we come in a bad moment?"

"Stop pretending! Did you come to finish the job?!" Cartman faced Jimbo, raising an accusatory finger—but cautiously, of course: they still had guns.

"Huh?" Jimbo glanced at Ned.

"Get out of here, you psychos!" Kyle yelled.

"What are you talking about?!" Jimbo looked at everybody, all amusement in his face disappearing.

"These boys say that Ned shot at them just a while ago and you allowed it!" Randy said.

"What?!" Jimbo turned to his nephew, frowning. "Why did you say that about us?!"

"Y-You did shoot at us!" Jimmy accused him.

"That's not true." Ned defended himself.

"Of course not! I've been with Ned the whole day and he didn't shoot at anybody! We've been hunting boar, we just came back to town!" Jimbo placed his hand on Ned's shoulder for support. "We didn't see you kids today, don't make up stuff that's not true!"

"It's still four against two." Randy looked at his brother with severity.

"Come on, Randy!"

"No, come on Randy no. He's my son."

They knocked at the door again. Sharon opened quickly.

"Thank goodness you came so fast!"

"Are these the attackers?" before Jimbo could realize, he was pushed to a wall and his hands tied behind his back.

"Wha-? Wait! Are you serious?! Stan! What are you playing at?! Tell them you're lying! Tell them this is just a joke! You're just kidding your old uncle Jimbo!"

But the police officer was dragging him out of the house rudely and Stan's expression showed no signs of mockery.

"Why, you little piece shit! What the fuck did I do to you?!" Jimbo fought uselessly, because the policeman was assisted by a partner. "I'm gonna get even! This joke went too far!"

"Ah! Aaaargh!" Ned protested as he could, not able to reach his voice box to complain clearly.

It was hard because they put up resistance, but Jimbo and Ned were dragged out of the Marshes house into a police wagon that was parked next to the door. Nobody moved or said a thing, there was a dumbstruck silence. Stan couldn't even look up from the floor—it was painful enough to hear their screams.

"You will have to come to the police station to testify, do you understand?" Sergeant Yates said to the young men in the house. "Don't worry, we may not have electricity there at the moment but we can still keep those two locked away where they can't shoot any more people in the face. If everything goes right, electricity will come back soon and we'll be completely operational."

"That's good to hear. Thank you for coming in time." Sharon said to him.

Randy placed a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"It's okay, son. We'll clarify this situation."

"I hope so..."

Jimbo and Ned were so shocked...But that had to be some great acting, right?

"I bought this to an antiquarian in New York City. It is a real collector's item, but I like to have things that are old and still serve their purpose. Look, it still works, it does not need electricity and I have a few movies to watch. I do hope you like Charlie Chaplin!"

Being there, in the dark, with Gregory by her side and watching one of the most romantic movies ever filmed made Wendy feel really strange. It almost seemed as if she was in a movie herself. She had never experienced such a magic moment and didn't actually expect it to happen.

But she had imagined it a few times—when she was with Stan. But she soon realized that life was nothing like a movie. All those years she and Stan had been dating, he had never done anything to melt her heart, to create such intimacy between both of them. No kisses in the rain, no filling the room with candles, no conversations until dawn or even after sex. Oh, sex was one of her biggest disappointments, because he never spoke after it, he just caressed her lazily before dozing off—all that time hearing her friends talk about how marvellous it was and when it was her turn...that was it. Also, he never came to see her at work so that everyone could see how cherished she was, he never changed his looks to please her. What had he done for her? Where did all that affection he showed as a child gone?

Seeing the blind girl stare at the tramp, her eyes getting teary, made her want to cry herself. Of course that could have never happened between them. Perhaps they were only together because they were supposed to continue that child's play. Stan made it clear that morning. He didn't love her. He was just upset that she was happy with someone who wasn't him. As if she was some kind of possession. No, Stan didn't love her. He thought he did but he didn't.

"Oh..."

Even with very little light, Gregory could see how bright Wendy's eyes were. Truth be told, that ending had left a lump in his throat too. He quickly handed her a handkerchief (one of those pretty silk handkerchiefs nobody used anymore but looked like a gentleman's item). Wendy accepted it. Darn, now she was really crying.

"It is a very beautiful ending, isn't it?"

"Yes..." Wendy simply replied, wiping the tears. She didn't dare to spoil that beautiful cloth with her mucus.

"Only a true genius can manage to make a scene so touching without words."

Gregory walked out of the room for a second. Enough for Wendy breath deeply. And think.

She had been like that lady, blind, for too long. And, like her, she felt she was seeing clearly again.

Gregory came back and pressing the switch. Wendy's eyes hurt for a moment when light filled the room.

"Ah, this is splendid! Finally we have electricity again! That fault was prolonging way too much." he walked to her. "Well, so I see you liked it."

"Oh, yes, I liked it a lot. It looks so much better in an old projector, as in its times..." Wendy replied.

She still had photos in her phone. Their graduation, with their friends, their first trip alone to Nebraska, a P!nk concert...Painful memories that she didn't want to revisit again but she couldn't bring herself to delete either.

Until that moment. It was time to leave all that behind. Like the blind florist, she had seen the light.

With a blink, all those photos were gone.

"It is quite fascinating when you think about it, don't you think? A little boy from South London, with an alcoholic father and a psychotic mother, who lives a miserable life and everything points to only misery in the future..."

Then, the social media. She had already purged it, but there was still one thing pending: her status.

"...Then, one night, her mother's voice cracks and someone has to take her place, and he, precisely him, a five-year-old, is chosen. He doesn't know yet, but it's his first step into vaudeville and a new life for him and his family, present and futur-"

One thing made Gregory interrupt his digression: a kiss from Wendy. A brief but intense kiss in the lips.

Wendy moved away and looked him with fear. She was sure she had screwed up, seeing the surprise in his face. But she seemed to be just misinterpreting his facial gestures, because Gregory smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Wendy...Do you love me? You really do?"

"What do you think, silly?" Wendy grinned.

"...Heh. I just couldn't believe it."

Placing his hands on her cheeks, Gregory kissed her back.

The status...it could stay as it was. 'In a relationship'.

Jimbo buried his face in his hands.

"Really, Ned, what did I do to that boy? Whatever did I do to deserve this?"

Ned patted his back with much energy and definitely not looking at him.

"What does he want from me?"

"Silence, back there!" Sergeant Yates hit the metallic surface behind him. Jimbo's complaints made it hard to listen to the radio, where they were playing True Colors.

"...What is that?" the driver squinted, leaning forward.

Jimbo sighed and remained there, with his head low and his eyes closed.

Of course he hadn't shot Stan. He was telling the gospel truth: Ned and him had been hunting and it was time to go back home, so they got into the van. They planned to have a few beers before heading home, brag about the animals they had killed—but the rest was blurry. He didn't remember anything before reaching that traffic light near Tom's Rhinoplasty. But of course Ned hadn't shot at his nephew and the boys who were with him! He was sat by his side, he would have noticed!

Wait, what if he drugged him and that was why he had that lapse of memory? Yes! That was the only explanation! That fucker!

He was about to inquire Ned about it when the van suddenly stopped, so violently that they almost fell to the floor. The front doors opened.

Someone screamed.

"What is happening?" Ned asked.

Too bad there were no windows! However, something was happening outside, something intense. The van shook—something had hit it.

Then, the door opened. But the person who was standing in front of them was not any of the policemen.

It was wearing a grey, shining and skinny suit with a wide brown belt which had the initials G.D. He also wore gloves of the same material as the suit and long dark boots. His face was hidden behind some big platinum and dark glasses. His red hair was long and curly, it was waving with the breeze, making him seem like some kind of phantasmagorical apparition.

"You are free, gentlemen. Enjoy the night." was all the stranger said before walking away. By his voice they knew it was a male and a young one.

Squeak, squeak, squeak. That sound called Ned's attention on his boots. There was light in the streets again, so now he was able to see it. He elbowed Jimbo, who had remained still, and pointed at his boots with his only hand. Or, mostly, to the trace his boots were leaving.

The two hunters were not sure about going out, but they eventually jumped out of the van. Just to see what was going on.

And they saw it, alright.

What that person was dragging was the blood of the police agents that had arrested them—all of them were lying on the ground, only one of them with his gun on his hand, unused, and completely inert.

Jimbo and Ned did not emit a a sound or made a move, but they could hear there was a big racket in the streets.