CHAPTER 21: POINT BREAK, PART 1
Change is the only constant in the universe; a paradox in that change itself spells the absence of any constant. Since the first expansion of energy with the Big Bang, the universe slowly creeps from its birth to its death with Entropy, not unlike how any form of life has a beginning and end.
And like any living organism, the universe has innumerable galaxies within itself, each comprising planets sustaining life, each one the cells and molecules, the parts that comprise the whole. The minor parts may seem insignificant in comparison to the shining stars and mighty superclusters, but they are just as essential to the rest of the whole, if not greater than.
And on this one planet is where the surfer is still on his mission of survival, and still must adjust accordingly to change.
He has been swept away from his familiar waters into less familiar ones, forced to find his way around this new environment and seek some comfort in his new surroundings. He has been placed with a task that seems almost impossible, but not to take it on and succeed is an option that is guaranteed to result in death.
For that is the way of the universe: Change is constant and constant does not exist, and all life must adapt or die. The environment changes on a constant basis, whether as a result of the old life or brought about by nature, creating new conflict to create new life, and the old must become new, or be eliminated. There is no room for life which cannot survive, and the universe has no care one way or the other.
But the surfer is clever enough to get his bearings in these waters. They are a far cry from the oceans he once knew, and they still feel 'wrong' in comparison to his home even now, but he can survive, and that is ultimately all that matters in the grand scheme of the universe.
For the moment, he can survive, and he is surviving well.
However, content is once again destroyed by the change of the universe, not allowing laziness or peace when only struggle breeds results. The waters began to rise up in a wave, taking all the sea from beneath the surfer and gathering up in a manifestation of gravitational pull that he had never seen before.
The wave that eventually came rose far above and beyond what he had ever ridden before, and was more than enough to crush his body from pressure alone. All exits and ways around the wave were nonexistent, leaving only one way to possibly escape this seemingly insurmountable trouble:
Ride the wave.
The surfer is unsure about his own skills, unsure if he is strong and talented enough to conquer this wave, but he also knows that he has no choice other than to ride it. He does not know, for all his skills, if they are enough to ensure that he will survive the ride, but he also knows that he will die anyways if he does nothing and surrenders to the wave.
Perhaps the weaker forms of life would have given into the latter half of the ultimatum, but the surfer is a spirit too free-willed and strong to go out and fade into the evolutionary footnotes of history. He knows far too well that he cannot allow himself to give into the wave.
He loves the waves too much.
He loves the ride too much.
Taking to his board, he began swimming up to the wave, preparing to face it head-on, taking on the challenge of the universe to prove he is still worthy to live.
With the sun rising well past the afternoon in Ocean Shores, its sunlight which brought a sufficiently waking light to the residents of the beach city diminishing to a cooler warmth, another summer day has comes near an end, with the remaining residents in the town having already fulfilled their daily jobs and tasks for the day.
Ray Rocket was expected to be at the Shore Shack to fill out his own daily job, where he could serve out fresh-made and delicious hamburgers and other staple American foods to anyone who might be hungry for them, but has not shown up to work. Instead, he chose to lay on his couch, sadly and unsuccessfully hoping to find some peace to his problems.
A few shots of whiskey and a long while of self-sulking were his medicines for his ailment from the night before, and it has still not helped, nor has the sleep, the little bit of it he managed to achieve. Laying in on his couch in a depressed state, he does not feel the need to contribute to the human rat race, opting to abstain from all human activity and interaction for as long as possible.
However, it still comes to him regardless of his own wishes, arriving with the entry of his wife, Noelani, into the room. Were he still a single man, he would have been granted the solitude and peace of mind that he sought now, and would be given more time to process his emotions by himself...
"Whoo, that's way too long a drive just for some groceries, and now gas. I don't know what's happened to the store and the gas station, but I hope it all gets solved soon. I wonder if it has to do with that Green Eye whoever and all those superheroes popping up like him. Anyway, Ray shouldn't be home until a little later, he'll probably make a burger for himself, so I can-" Noelani began to say.
...but his marriage makes that task no longer a burden he must share alone, nor one that his wife will allow him. Entering their house after a long drive to a distant grocery store in another town, Noelani came back to find her husband laying on the couch, lethargically wasting himself away.
She can clearly see that he is not in the best of mental states, and knows that he requires her help. Dedicating herself to him with all her love just as Ray himself had done for her, she approached him to contribute what help she could to his low emotional state, hoping to bring him out of his sad state.
"Ray? Honey, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Shack?" Noelani asked.
"Ah, what's the point? I barely get enough customers in to keep the place above water. Might as well leave the restaurant closed and save my time and money." Ray moaned.
"But you love working at the Shore Shack. I see how happy you are making burgers for everyone, and keeping everyone fed. You work that job because you love it."
"Oh, yeah, I love it, alright. I sure do love working a job where I do the same thing over and over again, yet nothing I do ever changes. I'm always making the same attempts to try to fix the problem, and the problem's still there. Of course that makes me happy. What else purpose should I ever have in life? At what point does the effort start to make a change? Except when the whole thing just goes away and you turned out to spend all that time and effort and love you gave for nothing? Who wouldn't love that? Who wouldn't love being a father?"
Ray's angry rant, coupled with his Freudian slip, brought greater concern to Noelani, making her kneel down to him and gently rub his head.
"Oh, Ray, are you still upset about Otto?" Noelani asked.
"Is it that obvious?" Ray asked.
The nasty sarcastic remark immediately brought shame and regret to its speaker, making Ray retract his statement as soon as Noelani's hand came away with a sad face.
"No, no. I'm sorry. I just... Goddammit, can't I act right to anybody I love without being an overbearing dick?" Ray asked.
"Ray, don't say that about yourself. You're the kindest, most sweetest man I've ever known. I knew that and believed it so strongly that I took you for a husband so I could have that to myself." Noelani asked.
"Yelling at my own kid after not seeing him for years and not even being able to talk to him after seems like the last thing I'd consider to be kind and sweet."
"You still are. I know you mean well. You're just... a bit too passionate, maybe?"
Ray responded by turning himself over on the couch, hiding his face from his wife.
"Oh, no, you don't. Here, I'm not going to let you sulk and punish yourself like this." Noelani said.
Grabbing Ray by the shoulders, Noelani picked him up with a struggle, putting his back against the couch and making him sit up straight.
"Noelani, what are you doing?" Ray asked.
"Trying to get you out of your sour mood. Getting you up'll get you off to a good start." Noelani said.
"C'mon, Noelani, I just wanna lay down until I feel better. I'm not feeling so good."
"You're not feeling good because you're laying down. Come on and get up off the couch and get some sunlight. You'll feel better then."
"I'm not looking to feel better. I'm looking to make my son a more successful person, and I'm screwing that up horribly."
"You're not screwing up at all, honey. You just need to give Otto some time."
"I'VE GIVEN THAT BOY 7 GODDAMN YEARS! I CAN'T MAKE THAT BOY LEARN! HE'S NEVER GONNA GROW UP!"
Not expecting Ray's sudden outburst of anger, Noelani was taken aback by his emotional reaction, cowering away in fear of his next move. Upon realizing his mistake, Ray immediately got off the couch and held Noelani tight in a hug to amend his mistake, deeply regretting his reaction.
"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to yell at you. Please don't be scared. I'm sorry." Ray cried.
"Shh, shh, shh. Stop being so worried about me. You've got yourself to worry about. You're going nuts just festering around and moping. You can't keep punishing yourself." Noelani said.
"But I don't know what else I should do. I've tried everything that I can to try to get that boy to make his life right."
Sharing an intimate embrace with her husband, seeking to comfort him in his moment of sadness and frustration, Noelani allowed Ray to bury himself in her, escaping from his pain temporarily. Like her husband has done since his initial failed dinner, she thinks alongside him to find a solution to fix his dilemma, hoping to mend the broken bridge between father and son.
And in a sudden flash of inspiration, she found a way.
"Maybe you shouldn't try to make his life right." Noelani said.
The idea is as counter-intuitive to Ray as it would seem to anyone, leading him to break off his embrace and look to Noelani for a clearer answer.
"...What? Ray asked.
"Maybe you shouldn't try to make his life right. Not in the way you've been doing." Noelani said.
"But all I'm doing is trying to make him a better person. I just want him to-"
"All this time, you've been trying to make him do what you want him to do. But did you ever stop to think about what he wants?"
"Well... I... I was thinking about his best interests when I-"
"But did you think about what he wants?"
Upon thinking over Noelani's question carefully, Ray saw the flaw in his approach, but not yet her conclusion, still hanging on with curiosity.
"...No. I didn't." Ray said.
"So you see? You can't just force him to change who he is." Noelani said.
"Then how am I supposed to get him to act responsible? Am I supposed to just let him wallow in a pigsty and live with no future?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying."
"Then I don't know what you are saying."
"What I'm saying is: Maybe the problem's not that he needs to change who he is. Ancient Hawaiian saying: 'A man cannot change the tide no matter how many rocks he throws at it.' He needs to find out who he is, and so do you."
"I already know who he is. He's Otto Rocket, he's my son."
"But do you know his dreams, his goals, his aspirations?"
"He doesn't have any. I've been trying to get him to find some."
"Everyone has dreams and goals. They might not know it at first, but it takes them time to find it. Otto just hasn't found his yet."
"Again, how am I supposed to help him if he doesn't change?"
"You can't force change, honey. People can only accept change naturally, over time. Remember how long it took for our marriage to get settled in with the rest of the family?"
"It didn't take that long."
"But it still took time. Some plants grow quickly, some grow slowly, but they're still plants that need support to grow."
"And how am I supposed to help him grow?"
"Well, have you ever had a talk with him about what kind of things he'd like to do?"
"I tried that at dinner, and look where it got us. It got us into another fight."
"Because maybe you weren't asking the right questions. You say on and on that you want him to be happy and have a successful life, but have you ever told him that?"
At last, Ray began to realize the truth his wife was sharing with him, seeing the error in his ways in dealing with his son, and how to reparate it.
"I haven't." Ray said.
"So you need to tell him that. Let him know that you're trying your best as a father, and help him find a life that he loves, and just be a little more kind and patient." Noelani said.
"Oh, but what if he ends up wanting just to flip burgers like me? Maybe I want something more for- Okay, okay, no, you're right, it's not what I want. But... I still wished he could be greater than me. What if he doesn't?"
"So what if he doesn't? You've been happy working at the Shore Shack your whole life, what's wrong if he ends up being the same? Was your life really so poor that you had to push your son to do something else?"
"Well, no."
"Then what's the problem? If you were in his position, if you were pushed to get some higher-paying job, would you take it, or would you still want to work at the Shore Shack?"
"Oh, the Shore Shack, for sure."
"Why?"
"Because working that job made me happy. I liked it."
"It made you happy, even though that you didn't make a lot of money from it?"
"Yeah. I guess it did."
"Well, then, if you can find happiness and content with life with how you like to live it, what difference does it make if Otto's choices end up being the same as yours? He'll still be happy, and he'd turn out a success... just like his father."
After thinking over Noelani's words, continuing to think on his own revelation, the realization of Otto's core issues finally became clear to Ray, and how to fix them. In the cusp of his realization, the illness that seemed to linger without end finally lifted from his head, and his goal is all the clear and obvious to achieve.
Bringing his wife in for a kiss, Ray prepared to depart to fulfill his task.
"I'll be back later, honey, I need to talk to Otto." Ray said.
"What? Now?" Noelani asked.
"Yes, now. You're right, Noelani. You're absolutely right. I've been focusing too much on making him into what I wanted that I never thought about what he wanted. It's time that I let him know that, and help him find it out. I'll be back soon, okay?"
The initiative Ray took in the effort to make amends with his son brought pride to Noelani, bringing a smile to her face.
"Okay. You do what you have to do. But be easy on him. He's my son, too, you know. That's the deal I took when I married you." Noelani replied.
Ready to make amends with his son once and for all, Ray walked out of his house and preceded to walk to Otto's house, thinking over the right set of words to say to him. Rather than take his car to make his way to his house, Ray instead took the journey on foot, seeming to forget all about his more efficient method of transportation in his excitement.
"Let's see, what should I say? 'Otto, I know I've been a big jerk, but I'm ready to make it right?' No, not clear enough. 'Otto, I'm here to help you finally get a job and stop being a slob!' No, no, no, that's way too condescending. Oh, I know! 'Otto, I know we've got our differences, but we've also got our similarities, and I think we can use those similarities to-' Oh, where was I even going with that?" Ray thought aloud.
In the midst of his unfocused ramblings and rehearsals, a car horn honked to his side, prompting him to look to the source of the sound of the horn. Looking to the horn, Ray saw his car pulling up beside him, with Noelani in the driver's seat and opening the passenger door for him.
"Honey, you do know that we have a car, right?" Noelani asked.
"Oh, uh... Right... Thanks." Ray said.
Awkwardly stepping inside his car with a sheepish smile, feeling embarrassed over his overzealous planned walk across Ocean Shores, Ray sat down.
"What would I do without you, Noelani?" Ray asked.
Smugly smiling back at her husband, Noelani began driving towards Otto's house, allowing the journey to become shorter and easier on the one needing to make the trip.
"Let's see... How about: 'Hey, Otto? How about we have a talk? I think I know how to make your life not suck anymore!'" Ray suggested.
"I'd suggest something else." Noelani said.
At the poorly-maintained home of Otto Rocket and Twister Rodriguez, the latter of the two occupants arrived back to the house, stumbling back in a half-awakened stupor after a long night of sleep, sex, and drugs, which itself followed the destruction of the local gas station as part of his first official act as a member of the Rippers.
He comes home without a care in the world or concern for the consequences of his actions, putting them aside as if they were an occurrence in another world and another time. Upon stepping back inside, he expects to find those inside welcoming him with open arms, stuck in his own ego that his actions are yielding results worthy of praise.
"Hey, everybody, daddy's home after a long night of work, wait until you hear about my-" Otto began to say.
Before taking another step further into his home, Otto came to a stop as an obstacle placed itself in front of him, looking to see it being an angry-looking Reggie. The other occupants of the house of Twister, Sam, and Tito all were present as well, but chose to sit down on the couch and watch in silence.
"Well, don't everybody congratulate me all at once." Otto snarked.
"Congratulate you? Is that what you think you deserve?" Reggie asked.
"I managed to get myself into the Rippers officially and I have their full and utter trust, so, yeah, I'd say that I do."
"Oh, really? That's great, Otto. I guess that does call for some congratulations. Good for you."
"Good to see we finally agree on something, Reg. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm fuckin' starving and I need to get myself some food. By the way, love what you guys did with my place, looks even better than when Twist and I first moved in-"
Otto attempted to step past Reggie to make his way to the kitchen, only to be stopped and pushed back by her hand, brought to look at her angry face again.
"Except for the fact that, when I tried to take my car up to the gas station earlier this morning, I found a bunch of cops surrounding the place, and the gas station was apparently BLOWN UP! Is that what you call for congratulations for, Otto? For committing domestic terrorism?!" Reggie shouted.
"No, no, of course not. That's not technically domestic terrorism, it's more like arson or property damage or-" Otto tried to say.
"OTTO! I am NOT in the fucking mood for jokes!"
"Look, Reg, what do you want me to say? These guys were hired to blow shit up, so it kind of came with the territory that I may, you know, may just have to blow shit up, too, just so they won't think I'm a fuckin' spy or some shit. Did that ever occur to you? This is undercover work, it takes doing some undercover shit."
"Undercover?! You're not a cop or a fucking spy, Otto. We sent you in to find out what they're up to, and find information that we can use to stop them!"
"And how the fuck is that any different from being a spy? That's, like, the textbook definition of a spy. Aren't you supposed to be a news writer, or something? Isn't your whole job knowing more words?
"Whatever! Even if I bought that, okay, I could see you being forced to do some things probably illegal. But blowing it up? You couldn't just break some windows or something?"
"As a matter of fact, I did just smash some windows and other stuff. It was Lars that started the fire, and one of the other guys that blew the place up. In fact, I actually saved a dude that Lars tried to kill. He hosed the guy with gas and tried to burn him alive with his cyborg flamethrower arm, and I managed to stop that shit. Do I not get any credit for that?"
Given a vital piece of information, coupled with another piece that sounded outrageous to the outsider ear hearing it, Reggie's attitude changed to a more flustered and slightly less aggressive stance, but still pushing to get the answers that she wanted to hear. Those listening aside on the couch took less of an angry stance as well, their faces turning from judging looks to inquisitive ones.
"Wait, wait, wait, what?! 'Cyborg flamethrower arm'? What the fuck are you talking about?" Reggie asked.
"You know how Lars got his arm ripped off? Apparently, they must've gotten him a new one or something, because he got it replaced with a robot arm with these guys." Otto said.
"And it somehow changes into a flamethrower?"
"And a machine gun, and a chainsaw, and some kind of weird harpoon rope thing, and a grenade launcher. It's like a fuckin' Swiss Army Knife, but way more deadly. They hooked him up good, and they hooked up the last person I'd trust with any of that shit."
"Okay... Assuming I believe that you tried to save someone's life and not blow up the gas station, you expect me to buy that he has some kind of weird cyborg arm with that transforms into a bunch of weapons?"
"As opposed to believing a millionaire skate park owner has a bunch of goons working for him to destroy Ocean Shores, and ride on hoverboards?"
Reggie's skepticism was shut down with an even more preposterous fact, outweighing the new information given, leading her to sigh in frustration.
"Look, I just- Fuck it, I can't deal with this. Sam, you talk to him. He's giving me a headache." Reggie said.
Put on the spotlight to inquire about the recent exploits of Otto, Sam got off the couch to address him and ask about the aforementioned destroyed gas station.
"Okay, look. Nobody's happy about the gas station. But complaining about it isn't getting us anywhere. Why don't you just tell us more about what happened? Did you learn anything new?" Sam asked.
"Not really. I did get to talk to Alex Gravity directly, and he straight-up told me the plan he has. It's what we already know: They're blowing up shit, and he's telling them to do it." Otto said.
"That may not be new, but this is the first time we've got him directly interfering. That might prove handy in a testimony. Did he tell you anything about what the end goal is? Why he's doing this whole thing?"
"Still not really. All I know is that he wants everybody gone so he can move in and do whatever he wants with Ocean Shores. What he's doing has to do with the hoverboards somehow, but, other than that, I don't know. He hasn't even told the rest of the guys. He's keeping everyone in the dark."
"So that's another dead end. It's a step in the right direction, but still not where we need to be. That thing you mentioned with Lars' arm, that's definitely new. That also explains why we weren't able to find him in any hospital, either."
"The arm's fuckin' crazy. I don't know how the hell any of these guys got that thing, but it means Lars is a lot more dangerous to fuck with this time around. It isn't like before like when we used to laugh at his dumb ass all the time."
"That's obvious enough. You think the arm might have something to do with the hoverboards and his plan? I can't see where it fits in."
"Maybe it's like, part of the stuff they stole to make the hoverboards. We agreed that they stole something from Membrane Labs in order to make the boards, right? Maybe it was, like, a whole bunch of stuff instead of just one thing, or the arm was just with the one thing, or something." Twister added.
"That's a good point, Twister. Wait... Holy shit, did I just say that?"
"It is? I was just thinking it was like those cooking shows where they have to buy those weird ingredients that only white people eat, and it was one of those, like, super-expensive herbs that you have to get at a foreign market or something, and it comes with something else you don't really want. That's kind of what it reminded me of."
"Uh... Well, that's not really how I would've come to that conclusion, but, okay."
"Everybody's got a different way to get their knowledge, cuz. Ancient Hawaiian saying: 'All waves might lead to different paths, but they all flow to the same ocean'." Tito added.
As per usual, no one comprehended Tito's philosophical yet puzzling pronouncement, leaving the room silent as they attempted to understand him.
"Uh, yeah, Tito, but I wouldn't give Twister too much credit. He even admits that he doesn't know what he says half the time. Looks like that super-genius stuff is like a broken clock. A cuckoo clock, more specifically." Otto joked.
Feeling Otto's absence from his life over the past few days, Twister's yearning turned to anger, feeling like a lover insulted and scorned over the words spoken at his expense. Not willing to take any more of Otto's insults, Twister stood up from the couch as well, stepping up to him to confront his best friend personally.
"You know, Otto, I don't like when you talk to me like that." Twister said.
"Like how?" Otto asked.
"Like I'm an idiot and you talk down to me like I don't matter. I've never liked it when you talked to me like that. I, like, try to tell you important things, or how I'm feeling, or, like, how I'm thinking, and you just keep bugging me like that. I hate it."
"Well, let's be honest, Twister, you're not exactly the brightest of bulbs. I'm just keeping it real here. Now, why don't you take a seat and let the grown-ups talk? We're in the middle of trying to save Ocean Shores here."
Angered by his insensitive comment, Twister looked at a smoke pipe from a nearby table, getting an instinct to throw it at Otto's head. As soon as Otto turned his head away, Twister picked up the pipe and shattered it against his head, leaving various small cuts on his head as a result.
"YAH! WHAT THE FU-" Otto began to say.
Before Otto could finish his sentence, Twister punched him in the stomach, knocking all the breath out from him and leaving him to fall to the ground. He followed up by kicking him while he fell down, but the intervening hands of Tito, Sam, and Reggie prevented him from attacking any further. Nonetheless, Twister continued to let out his rage on him, shouting out his complaints in a fury.
"Stop that, Otto! I hate it when you always do this to me!" Twister shouted.
"What the hell, man?! What do I do to you to deserve this?" Otto choked.
"You talk down to everybody like you're better than them, especially me, your own best friend! You act like a fucking narcoleptic!"
"Ugh... Don't you mean 'narcissist', dumbass?"
"Oh, and you'd would know, wouldn't you? And there you go doing it again! You think I like being called a dumbass, jackass?"
"Look, man, we talk shit to each other all the time. The fuck's with the sudden PMS episode?"
"I never liked being treated like an idiot! Don't you think I have feelings?"
"Seriously, dude, you're acting like a chick right now. You even listening to yourself? Plug a tampon in it and calm down."
"Are you listening to yourself?! I'm trying to tell you that my feelings are hurt, and you just wanna brush it off?!"
"Oh, I don't know whether or not you forgot, but there's some bad motherfuckers backed up by a millionaire trying to destroy Ocean Shores so he can do whatever he wants with it. What do you think's more important right now: Your feelings, or stopping these criminals from tearing our hometown apart?"
Twister thought over the two options for a moment, contemplating whether the primary mission was more important, or his own personal feelings towards Otto and the disrespect he received. The contemplation left him standing still and silent, leading the rest of the group to release their grip on him, believing him to have calmed down.
Though he is outwardly calm, his own internal feelings are not as easy as his body. The unreciprocated emotions in his own mind and heart are more than enough to outweigh any sense of logic and reason, potentially trumping any important decision that could be made.
On the other hand, he is well aware of the importance of the current mission to save Ocean Shores, and he has a strong interest in saving his hometown. He has made the case for many days now regarding the downgrade in the city, and he wished nothing more than for the town to be brought back to its former glory and spared the machinations of a Machiavellian millionaire.
Unfortunately, with someone not intelligent enough to think too far ahead, his emotions outweighed his logic, just as feelings of love always do.
"I guess my feelings are more important, because I'm not helping you anymore." Twister said.
Shrugging off the group, Twister began walking for the front door, leaving the group behind to find solitude and peace.
"Are you serious right now? You'd rather let these guys go and let them tear up the city than just suck it up and help me catch them?" Otto asked.
"If it means getting away from your bad attitude and huge ego, then yeah, because I can't take it anymore. And I really, really tried to." Twister said.
"C'mon, dude, we're supposed to be best friends. What the hell is this?"
"I'm not sure you ever had a best friend besides yourself. In fact, these days, it looks like this Dax guy and the Rippers are your new best friends, so you can be best friends with them instead. We're done."
After giving his goodbyes, Twister walked out the door, taking his skateboard along with him, hoping to find another place to be other than in Otto's presence.
"Oh, yeah? Well, screw you too! I don't need your help! I'll beat them all by myself! Good riddance!" Otto shouted.
Despite Otto's prideful shout to Twister as he left, his emotional state was anything but powerful in that moment. Attempting to shrug off the altercation to retain his pride, a Herculean task for a massive ego such as his own, Otto looked to the others to continue the previous conversation.
"Ah, fuck him, he'll be alright. Alright, so, you guys wanted to...?" Otto began to ask.
Otto's first instinct is to turn to Sam, but, unable to face his friend after witnessing the heinous attitude he showed to his own so-called best friend, he turned away, crossing his arms and refusing to look Otto in the face. Disregarding the obvious reason why Sam would do such a thing, Otto disregarded him to turn to Reggie instead.
"Well, fuck you, too. Reg, can you talk some sense into your boyfriend so we can...?" Otto began to ask.
Reggie, too, turned away from Otto, refusing to acknowledge him with even a condemning statement. Forced to confront the reason yet again, Otto once again disregarded it and turned to Tito, hoping to find one last member of the house that would reasonably hear him out.
Before Otto could even speak, Tito turned away as well, refusing to show any of his usual jovial attitude to his metaphorical cousin. Seeing even the warmest and most forgiving of the family reject his attention, Otto now came to the full realization of the situation, and knew that it was only himself that he could blame for where he stood now.
With his best friend gone supposedly forever, and no one else home giving him any support, Otto was left bereft of emotional support, ironically put into that position when he now needed it most. This consequence is a form of punishment for his wrongdoings a person, and it begins to tear at his heart enough to humble his ego for just a moment.
And in that moment, he chose to sit on the couch in silence, letting out a sigh as he sat down.
"Look... I get it. I fucked up with Twister. You made your point. But we got shit to do right now, and he obviously doesn't wanna talk right now, so that only leaves us with one more thing to do. We gotta get back to the job at hand. So you wanna keep ignoring me, or do you wanna catch the bad guys?" Otto asked.
It is this reasoning which leads the group to reluctantly turn back to him, looking for a direction in what to do.
"Alright, then, Mr. 'Let's-get-the-job-done'. What do you suggest we do to catch the bad guys?" Reggie asked.
"I know where the Rippers hang. When they're not at ZGZ, that is. They hang at this small house, 81699 Csupo Lane. That's where they go home to sleep when they run out of shit to do. That's also where they stash their boards." Otto said.
"Alex Gravity lets them take the boards to their house? Why would he do that?" Sam asked.
"I asked that, he said it was to keep the stuff from being found there in case the guys got caught, and they wouldn't be associated with ZGZ. Plausible deniability, or something like that, I don't remember."
"Okay, that's a decent pointer. What can we do with that information?" Reggie asked.
"Well, you're a fuckin' news reporter or something, you can, like, catch them in the act, and turn them into the cops. Then they flip on Alex Gravity, and then you win."
The group collectively looked at each other optimistically, all formulating their own plans to collaborate and find a winning one out of the suggestion.
"So we catch them with their pants down by watching them from their secret hideout, and we get the proof we need. Alright, sounds like a plan. But that means we literally have to just sit and wait for hours, at least." Sam said.
"A stakeout. Sounds doable to me. Never been on one before, but it should be easy enough. I'll have to go home and get my good camera and recording equipment. This could be a huge success." Reggie said.
"And I can make us some dinner to hold us over during the stakeout. I'll make hotdurgers." Tito added.
"Shit, sounds good to me. I'll take one, Tito." Otto said.
Still not willing to forgive Otto for his treatment of Twister, Tito coldly declined his request for food.
"I think you can manage for yourself, cuz. You got things of your own to take care of first." Tito said.
Stepping away from Otto, taking Sam with him as he departed, Tito left his metaphorical cousin to contemplate his actions once again.
"Now as for you, my Romeo cuz, this could be a good night for you and Reggie to spend together. Your first date." Tito said.
"Uh, Tito, look, I think we should just focus on the job, we don't need to-" Sam stammered.
"No, no, no, don't give me that. We've seen you and Reggie together, you're getting along much better than you make it out to be. Why try to hide it?"
"I mean, well, it's just so sudden. I mean, I'm not upset about it, but-"
"Well, you gotta take some initiative, too. Reggie's been taking you down this direction, but you can take some interest, too, or else she might think you're not the one for her, and this could all have a sad end."
"You really think so?"
"Ancient Hawaiian saying: 'A coconut will never know the cool breeze of the ocean if it never comes down from the tree'."
"...Huh?"
Seemingly forgotten by the rest of the group, Reggie departing to retrieve her needed things and Sam receiving an unwanted yet necessary courtship counselling from Tito, Otto stepped away to access his cell phone, pulling up a text conversation which played an important part in these current affairs.
Typing in a text addressed to Dax, he sent the following:
They bought the story. They'll be at the address. Otto texted.
A few seconds later, the reply came to Otto's text, reading:
Good. Head on back whenever you can get free. We're hitting the main competition next. Be ready. The text read.
The name of the next target of the Rippers has not been disclosed in the body of the text in order to avoid potential incrimination, but is well-known to Otto:
"Skatopia. We hit Skatopia next." Dax said.
Back at the VIP section of Zero Gravity Zone, the orders are passed along to the rest of the Rippers, who listen to the instructions of their leader with great enthusiasm. Beginning to gear up for their next mission, they get dressed with an appetite for destruction, intent on finishing the first of the last of businesses remaining in Ocean Shores.
Lars Rodriguez is not as quick to join in with the Rippers to the attack, gaining his own concerns regarding the greater goal.
"Hey, Dax, man. Question: We've been hitting a bunch of places so far, but there's no talk of the big-ass plan or the main payoff. I mean, I don't give a shit about the plan, and I like the job benefits, but when the fuck are we getting paid for this exactly?" Lars asked.
"We get paid when the job's done, Lars. That's how jobs work." Dax said.
"And when is the job considered done?"
"When the very last of the businesses in Ocean Shores is gone."
"Then why don't we just go and blow them all the fuck up in one fell swoop?"
"Because what we're doing is suspicious enough as it is. Most places don't just blow up for no reason, you know. You blow them all up at once, that's going to make a hell of a lot of commotion, even for a town this small, like there's some terrorist attack going on. You'll have the National Guard up our asses in no time. With the cops on the low and the press gone, we can get away with one at a time. When people get their business blown up, they leave. When they leave, they can't see what happens to the other places we go after. If they leave after it's just them, they'll think nothing of it, and just move on. If they're on the last of the list and they knew about the others, then they'll suspect it's some mad bomber. Mr. Gravity did plan this very carefully."
"But we're, like, almost done. All that's left is this place and Good Burger, and that's the last of the big places. Why not hit both places at once tonight?"
"Because the boss said no."
"Aw, come on. We can get paid a hell of a lot faster that way. Don't you think it-"
"I said no, and so did Mr. Gravity. Forget it, Lars. Now, are you going to get suited up, or are you going to get left out of the fun you enjoy so much?"
Dax's question would seemingly elicit a quick 'yes' from Lars, his own violent tendences more than enough to push him into the first opportunity to destroy anything and everything he can, but, this time, he is smart enough to stop and contemplate a plan of his own, finding an alternative way to achieve his goal.
Carefully curbing his own instincts, Lars responded with an unxpected...
"Eh, you know what? I'm not feeling this one so much. Skatopia was shit, but it's still a skating place, and I can't bring myself to do it. You guys have fun." Lars said.
Lars then moved to the couch and picked up a remote, beginning to flip through channels and streaming services. The sight was a surprise to Dax, but not enough to make him question Lars' intentions or ulterior motives further, suspecting that a violent, directionless man like him could not possibly have any.
"Suit yourself." Dax shrugged.
Dax and the Rippers then departed on their mission, leaving Lars alone in the VIP lounge. Peering over the couch, he checked to ensure that the group was long gone, and that they were, allowing him the chance to fulfill his own plan to accelerate the main plot and achieve his pay faster.
Taking off to the exit, Lars began to formulate his plan aloud as he left.
"Alright, asshole, let's see you fuckin' cocksmokers like this. You don't wanna get paid faster? That's your problem. But me? I gotta get paid, son. Destroying a Good Burger ain't gonna be easy, but... that whole drama with Otto and Twister... I wonder if my little bro and I could find some common ground at last?" Lars thought aloud.