CHAPTER 1: THE GOOD OLD DAYS
Riders on the storm,
Riders on the storm,
Into this house we're born,
Into this world we're thrown,
Like a dog without a bone,
An actor out on loan,
Riders on the storm...
"Riders on the Storm" by the Doors
The ocean has been a point of interest for all forms of life on Earth, sentient and otherwise. It is here that the first forms of life had emerged, eventually evolving into the more advanced forms of life such as human beings such as ourselves, and it covers the vast majority of our home planet.
Water is what comprises it, a substance born of hydrogen and oxygen; two elements that are extremely flammable and should be used with caution in their purest forms, yet these two gases, one light and one heavy, come together to comprise a substance that can extinguish a flame.
How strange it is, to think that chemicals could come together in different ways to defy their original purposes, to both give a stage for life to sprout from, and extinguish forces that would harm life. How amazing is this, this cosmic coincidence that this event occurs, this act of opposites coming together to make something new?
How amazing is it that the ocean constantly shifts and crashes under the gravitational pull of the moon, that this can create a ground for recreation? That the human race could have fashioned a sport out of these chaotic waves, by riding on them by boards of their own design?
It is here that the surfer comes to the beach, a meeting of land and sea, to ride these waves and dance with the ocean.
Wading into the water and laying on his board, the surfer swims out to sea, out where the waves crash, enticing the surfer out to them like a siren making its mating call onto him. When he approaches the waves, he waits for one to sweep under him, letting him be swept up in this motion of nature, like he is a newlywed bride being swept up in a romantic gesture from the mother of all life.
As the wave comes to the right altitude, the surfer stood atop his board, beginning to ride the wave.
Many riders of the wave will tell you that there is a certain peace and serenity that comes with the wave, by surfing along it. They claim there is a certain feeling that makes all the world seem unimportant, and only the thrill of the moment is all in their lives that matters to them.
It is not unlike the religious who also take an interest in the ocean; they claim that it is preferable and wise to be like the ocean, to be a large body that is always at peace and unbothered by the rest of the world or what goes on within itself. To them, the ocean simply is, and that is all it can be.
Of course, the analogy is always destroyed by the fact that stormy weather and trouble comes to the ocean all the time, and the ocean can never be at peace. After all, the ocean is where all life has come from, and there is always an act of violence or exchange of energy in the process of creating life, so how can the mother of all life always be at peace?
Likewise, the surfer himself is not at peace, and it is reflected in his performance.
Having his mind in many other places at once, it is not all focused on the present, where his body is now, and his body has too great a task to accomplish in order to be ignored. Beginning to lose its balance atop the board, the surfer's body is in need of its mind to guide it, as to avoid an unpleasant accident that would bring it harm.
Unfortunately, the mind does not return in time to see to the more pressing task, and it is left to slip off and fall to the water. Like most other attempts to conquer nature, nature once again shows the man its folly and the futility of its attempts for supremacy, a fact which has never stopped it before, but has still been made time and time again.
For the surfer, the lesson is learned only for now. Swimming up to the surface and keeping his head above water, the surfer once again took a deep breath of air, recovering from the harsh failure he has suffered. Nature has conquered him, and he is at its mercy again.
And the surfer knows that he will not find victory again until he resolves his own inner turmoil.
Welcome to Ocean Shores.
Here, you'll find a lot of fun just waiting to be had. The days are always hot and sunny, the beaches hold some of the best waves you'll ever surf, and the sand is as soft and comfy as the bed in your own home, making the seaside alone making this town worth a visit to.
As well as holding some of the best and most fun skate parks, it also holds the world-famous Ocean Shores Boardwalk, hosting some of the best rides you'll ever find in all of the west coast outside of Disneyland. With all the great things that the city has in store, the city has become California's best kept secret.
But like most secrets, word got out about it. For several long years, Ocean Shores has become one of the best vacation spots in the country, becoming a paradise for travelling surfers, professional skaters, spring breakers, and anyone looking for a good summer vacation.
Every summer, the small city found itself packed with tourists from all over the world every single year, with hordes of vacationers both American and international seeking a nice place to kick their feet back and relax for a few weeks, or, for those who loved the city enough to stay, years.
But that was then. This is now.
Since the advent of smartphones, video games, social media and other various forms of electronic entertainment feeding the masses with their daily dosage of neural stimulation whenever they pleased, activities like surfing, skating, and other extreme sports began to decline in popularity.
As interest in sports and outdoor activities began to slow to a grinding halt, the peoples' minds and bodies grew weak and lethargic in turn with their metabolisms no longer pushed by the need for recreation or any desire to compete in physical activities with one another. It is easier to simply press a button to get one's dopamine levels up, so why would one bother to make the physical effort when their lives are busy enough?
With this sudden backwards progression of humanity and culture, the once-great city of Ocean Shores found itself as a victim of the migration of interest in the natural and stimulating activities that the planet had to offer, just as many beach cities and vacation spots that have suffered as well.
As tourism in Ocean Shores began to shrink and shrink each year, as did the town's economy. Many famous establishments and cult classic spots of the citizens of Ocean Shores began to close down, with their owners moving away in search for greener pastures for their trades.
Where the town was one of the most famous vacation spots in the world, it now sadly and pathetically rots away in the corner of the southern California, like a neglected childhood toy that was once beloved and cherished by its owner and abandoned by adulthood; a shadow of its former self.
The people of the city who have not yet left, clinging to all that they still know and love, all share a sense of nostalgia for the days when the city was loud and alive, wishing for the days when people would all come together as one race, all coming together for one and simple purpose:
To have fun together.
One such person is a young woman named Regina 'Reggie' Rocket. As the alarm to her clock sounded its blaring, shrill beep, Reggie found herself snapped out a pleasant dream, one where she was surfing the waves of the ocean, as she did so long ago when she was young.
As the childhood thoughts of the saltwater of the ocean faded from her mind, she got out of bed, preparing to head to her job as required of her by society and adulthood.
[Soundtrack Cue: Sublime - Garden Grove]
Now out of bed, Reggie began to move through her morning rituals of work preparation: Bathing herself, brushing her teeth, applying hygiene products, and getting dressed. Reggie was never one to care too much about her hair like other women, so a simple quick brush did the job just fine, allowing it to keep its curly midlength.
Heading outside and locking the door to her home, a humble, rent-controlled apartment, behind her, Reggie stepped inside her car; a small, rugged, cheap thing produced sometime in the late 1990s, but effective enough to get its driver where she needed to go.
Putting in the key to the car and turning it, Reggie turned on the air conditioner to combat the hot weather, finally ready to begin her drive to work.
As the car's power began to started the machine, she pushed the pedal to the gas down gently, at last beginning her drive across Ocean Shores to work. Making her way down the streets of Ocean Shores, Reggie's drive begins and remains a simple, pleasant drive, having no heavy traffic or troubles in her way.
As she continued on her drive, she looked onto the streets as she passed them by, continuing to feel a sense of nostalgia for the days when she was young as they began in her dream. With the city's tourism taking a heavy beating, the city had become nearly empty, depressed and dull with its populace practically deserting their home, a fact which rang uncomfortably for Reggie.
No one walked the streets when they were filled with tourists and local kids alike, save a few delinquents and drug dealers taking their place. No one life was to be found on the beach, save the occasional lone devoted surfer or the normal sea life. Many of even the most popular stores and franchises and smaller, mom-and-pop hangouts were empty, most being closed, leaving behind empty buildings for sale that no one bought.
Saddened to see her home suffering the economic impact it had, Reggie sighed as she looked at her once-lively home, now empty and lifeless. Thinking about the days when Ocean Shores was a lively and exciting town, Reggie recollected on her past adventures and experiences as a youth in the beautiful beach city, attempting to substitute the harsh reality for her own personal, more pleasant one.
As a child, she enjoyed all the leisures that the town had to offer, spending time around many of these surfing, skating, hockey, and other various sports with her brother and friends, just like any child could ever wish for in their simple years of youth. For what else could a child want besides the freedom to enjoy themselves, in a city where every recreation is offered?
However, now that she is grown, those glory days have long since passed, and now she has an adult life with a real job; a fact that everyone else is forced to accept at one point or another when they enter their older years. It is a predicament that is ingrained into the human condition, and never is it easy to do, but is a necessary evil.
It seems that children are all too eager to grow up, but, when that day finally comes, they all wish to be children again, as if no one is ever satisfied with their lives.
Now a responsible adult, Reggie has been forced to find the strength to put aside her inner desire to live life freely as she did when she was young, now needing to contribute to society in a meaningful way, in order to do her part to work for a better tomorrow. At least in theory, so the saying goes.
Her job is held at Ocean Shores Today. To call it the the most popular newspaper in the city is a fact only on a technicality, for it is the one and only newspaper remaining in business in Ocean Shores. All others have gone belly-up or have migrated to the internet in order to remain relevancy.
Having been a passionate magazine creator as a youth, it was fairly easily for Reggie to secure the job, and, with little other job opportunities in this city, and fewer relevant to her interests, she fully intends to keep it. Arriving into the parking lot of the building hosting the offices of the newspaper, she has made one of the few required steps needed to keep that job security, giving her some relief in that small worry.
Turning off her car, Reggie stopped to take a small moment for herself to savor the last few moments of reminiscing on her younger days, as if breathing in one last breath before a plunge into the depths. Heeding the message spread in the Buddhist story of the Tiger and the Strawberry, she focused on the sweet final moments before facing the tiger of real life before her.
Finally putting the thoughts aside and putting her mind on the work required of her this day, Reggie stepped out of her car, walking towards the building.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
Upon entering the offices of Ocean Shores Today, Reggie took notice that the workplace was, as usual, not busy, with nothing to show for the offices except for empty cubicles and offices all around. With not enough come to hire a full staff of people, there were very little people to talk to, leaving the workplace just as boring and dull as the rest of Ocean Shores, made all the worse by being a place of work rather than fun.
After pouring herself a cup of coffee at the break room, one of the few luxuries that the office can afford to provide, Reggie sat down at her desk, letting out a large sigh as she sat down. Now at her desk, Reggie's dilemma now became a state of undecided emotion, trying to decide whether she should be bored from the little work to do, or relaxed from it.
Either way, the debate is not one she finds pleasant.
As the minor internal struggle continued in her head, along with the question of which of the few tasks she should get to first, one of Reggie's few remaining colleagues, a young man named Matt, stepped over to her office. Happy to see his workplace friend as always, Matt, able to see her visible boredom, approached her to try to cheer her up.
"Anything newsworthy, Reggie-Girl?" Matt asked.
Snapped out of her trance-like state with Matt's question, Reggie brought her attention to him with a minor feel of surprise.
"Hmm? Oh, hi, Matt. Anything newsworthy in Ocean Shores? Nope. Maybe a decade ago, when people actually did things around here." Reggie replied.
"Oh, my. Are we having another one of those 'good old days' moments?" Matt asked.
"With days this boring, everything else looks like a good day. Tell me again why I stayed here when most people that used to work here moved?"
"Because they all got laid off, and you didn't. You got this job easily due to your hard work as a magazine writer as a kid, employers love extracurricular stuff like that."
"Didn't realize making a dumb magazine as a kid counted as something extracurricular. Half the time, I used it as an excuse to get out of school. Most of what I was writing about was pretty useless information, anyway. It seemed cooler back then."
"Oh, come on, now. Making a magazine's no easy task as a kid. I've read some of the issues you made, they were really well done. Besides, you literally get paid to do nothing, you've got no reason to complain. Not to mention I'd have no one else to talk to if you did leave."
"Yeah, but I still wish I could visit somewhere more cool. I hear Hillwood has some masked crimefighters, like something out of a comic book. I'd give my right leg to have something half as cool as that happen around here."
"That would also mean we would get homicidal maniacs running around here, too. We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"
"No, I know. I just miss the days when I was a kid. Skating, surfing, snowboarding, hanging out with my friends and family, and meeting new people. That was the life. Now, nobody comes to Ocean Shores anymore, not even the Shoobies."
"'Shoobies'? What's a Shoobie?"
"You don't know what a 'Shoobie' is? How long have you lived here?"
"About 5 years. I moved back in with my parents after college."
"In other words, you're not an Ocean Shores local. That explains it. Basically, 'Shoobie' is what you called tourists, you know, back when we used to have tourists."
"But why 'Shoobie'? Is that some kind of disco thing?"
"What? No! We called them that because they wear their shoes on the beach."
The meaning behind the name made Matt raise his eyebrows in surprise, as if coming to a revelation never before brought to his attention.
"You're not supposed to wear your shoes on the beach?" Matt asked.
"No way! You're supposed to go barefoot. You've seriously never done that?" Reggie asked.
"I don't go to the beach. I can't swim. Much less surf or any of that other stuff you do."
"Used to do. I don't anymore."
"Why not? With an uneventful job like this, I'm sure that you'd have plenty of time for things like that."
"Yeah, you'd think so, but I guess I-"
As the two workplace friends continued their pleasant conversation, another person walked in the door; a rare occurrence for the building to see. With the stranger walking into the building, Reggie and Matt immediately took notice of the new individual walking in, especially in the way he walked, acting as if he owned the building.
The stranger was an older gentleman, coming dressed in a suit and sported a stylish haircut with a bright dye, trying to keep a younger appearance to compensate for his apparent signs of aging. But his posture and tone would easily throw one off that this man could be so old, walking with a youthful step and appearing quite fit for his age.
"Hello, young men and women, or, man and woman, I should say. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The stranger said.
"Uh, sorry, can we help you, sir?" Reggie asked.
"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Alex Gravity. You may or may not have heard of me."
Surprised to see a rich and moderately famous individual in their building, Reggie and Matt's confusion turned to stupor, surprised to meet their new guest.
"The Alex Gravity? The millionaire? The owner of Zero Gravity Zone?" Matt asked.
"The one and only, not to be too boastful about it." Alex Gravity said.
"Wow. Well, um, what can we do for you, sir?" Reggie asked.
"I happen to be looking for the manager of this establishment. Don't suppose you could tell me where I can find him, can you?"
"Um, y-yes, that's our editor. We can get him for you."
Moving her hand to her office phone, Reggie called the office of her editor, summoning him to her cubicle.
"Uh, boss? We got someone here to see you." Reggie said.
"The plumber's here? He's two hours late." The editor said.
"No, it's... someone else."
"Yeah? Who?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me, kiddo."
"Alex Gravity."
The editor went silent over the phone for a moment, silently contemplating the call from the other side.
"Reggie, this a joke?" The editor asked.
"No, I'm not joking. He's literally right here. He said he wants to see you." Reggie said.
Now added to the list of people baffled at the appearance of the millionaire skate park chain owner, the newspaper editor came over as requested. Just as Matt and Reggie were surprised and confused at the unexpected guest, the editor had his own sense of surprise overtake him.
"Oh. Well, hello, Mr. Gravity. It isn't too normal an occurrence for a wealthy man to visit a magazine publisher." The editor said.
"Ah, yes. The manager, just who I wanted to see." Alex Gravity said.
"That would be editor, to be more accurate. Is there something we can do for you, sir? If this is about the article regarding the escalator accident in your park, I should have you know that we stand by every word of our stories, including that one."
"Oh, no, Mr. Editor, I'm a big believer in the freedom of the press. I wouldn't come here to complain about that, and, of course, we fixed up that problem right quick. You're a newspaper of great integrity. But it has come to my awareness that your paper has been having problems staying in business due to low sales. It would be a shame for a newspaper like this to get closed down after years of operating."
"Mr. Gravity, if you've come here to start some kind of trouble-"
Before the editor could finish his sentence, Alex Gravity pulled out his checkbook, writing a check containing a very large sum of money, and handed it to the editor, stopping him in his speech. Upon seeing the numerous amount of zeroes written on the check, the editor found himself at a complete loss for words, no longer having anything to say in response.
"That's not at all why I'm here. I'm here to buy this fine establishment." Alex Gravity replied.
Still unable to form a complete sentence, the editor continued to stammer over his own words, trying to question the buyer's motives.
"W-Well, w-why the sudden urge to buy... sir?" The editor asked.
"I'm an eccentric millionaire, Mr. Editor. I buy things that aren't for sale. In the case of your paper, I just love your so much that I wanted to make sure it stays in business. Those little comic strips you add at the end are too much fun, Beetle Bailey's my favorite. I trust there's no problem with that?" Alex Gravity asked.
"N-No, sir, of course not, sir, not at all. Well, what can we do for you today, Mr. Gravity?"
Upon being addressed as 'Mr. Gravity', the millionaire let out an amused laugh at the editor's formalness.
"Please, call me Alex. All my friends call me Alex. However, would you mind giving these two young people the day off for me? I'd like to have a talk with you, and they look like they could use a little 'outside' time. Everybody could use a little outside time in this city." Alex Gravity said.
"O-Of course, Mr. Gra- I mean, Alex. You two, you heard the man. Go ahead and take the day off." The editor said.
"Really? Thanks, Mr. Gravity!" Reggie said.
"Thank you, sir!" Matt said.
"No problem, you two kids have yourself some fun. I'm just gonna have a little talk with your boss." Alex Gravity said.
With their work day taking an unprecedented end and having the rest of the long day to themselves, Reggie and Matt eagerly stepped out of the building, while their editor escorted Alex Gravity to his office to have a private conversation. As the two friends exited the building, ready to head to do many of the activites they never seemed to find the time for before, the conversation they started before picked up once again.
"So, you wanna go to Good Burger and get a burger and fries?" Matt asked.
"Maybe another time. I think I'll go see my dad at the Shore Shack and get a burger from him. I haven't seen him in a while." Reggie said.
"Oh ,of course, nothing like a little family time. I wouldn't want to get in the way of that. So, what were you saying earlier?"
"About what?"
"Why you stopped doing all those crazy sports things?"
"Oh, right. Well, to tell the truth, it isn't as fun to do alone. My friends are up to other things now."
"What about your brother? Doesn't he do a lot of that stuff too?"
"Otto. And yeah, he still does. Unfortunately."
Not understanding Reggie's wording of unexpected discontent in her sentence, Matt raised a curious eyebrow, wanting to know more to resolve his own curiosity.
"What do you mean, 'unfortunately'?" Matt asked.
"I mean that he doesn't bother showing up for family gatherings or even calling anymore. He always was caught up in sports more than anything else, always shirking his chores or skipping school to do it. He's probably caught up in it right now, like the fanatic he is." Reggie replied.
[Soundtrack Cue - Suicidal Tendencies - Trip at the Brain]
A way across the city, there is a skate park known as Madtown, now closed and and abandoned after the economic downturn of Ocean Shores. Run by a man known affectionately and mononymously as 'Conroy', the park has remained the most popular park for every skater in Ocean Shores, where skaters both novice and experienced could be found.
As correctly predicted by his sister, the aforementioned brash and overconfident skater Oswald 'Otto' Rocket is the one skater who has attended and skated at this park more than any other skater, and he once again keeps that record even long after the park's closing and its owner leaving the city.
Standing atop the park's now old and battered half-pipe, Otto Rocket is its sole occupant, preparing to make his next breach onto the skating structure. Standing below on the ground, his best friend and amateur cameraman, Maurice 'Twister' Rodriguez, stood at readiness with his trusted VHS camcorder, ready to record his best friend as he performed his skating tricks.
Behind the two, sitting in a corner, a boombox playing Suicidal Tendencies' How Will I Laugh Tomorrow When I Can't Even Smile Today, starting at the first track.
"Twister, you ready for these awesome tricks?" Otto asked.
"Ready when you are, Ottoman! Let it rip!" Twister replied.
Releasing his board from its tail stall, Otto skated down the ramp and began to perform his various and well-honed skating tricks for Twister to record. With the two needing to make money to support their own daily lives, their talents are taken to the half-pipe in hopes of creating videos that will garner a large enough audience, and make capital on this dying art.
Starting with a kickflip, spinning a good 360°, Otto switched to his backside upon landing back on the half-pipe, approaching to make his next trick from the reverse posture. Reaching the other side, Otto performed a method, nearly outstretching his back to grab his board.
Next, upon landing back on the ground, he decided to be more showy than usual by doing a handstand, holding himself in the air for a good 5 seconds. Next, Otto continued off his show by doing an ollie impossible, spinning a full 540°, and riding down the half-pipe and up to the other side to continue.
Many of these tricks and maneuvers he repeated again and again, changing up the order of which they were performed and adding new tricks in addition to what he has performed. Each move is made with a confidence and cockiness that can only be found in the adolescent youth, but it is still alive and well in the adult Otto Rocket.
Since his childhood, he has lived for sports and only sports, having a brash attitude that drives him to compete against others in his field, and win at all costs, save for cheating. He is not a man who seeks some higher standing of status just for the status, but only to earn his place among the truly great.
His drive is found only among the brilliant, but, like many of the brilliant, he is too absorbed in his own world to find a care for the rest of the world. For him, to play and perform is the world, and there could not possibly be anything else that the planet Earth could offer him.
In the art of sport, he is truly one with himself and the world, and he can feel free to be himself, to be at peace.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
Finally, having no more tricks to perform for now, he slowly rode down to the bottom of the half- pipe, finishing his performance. Like all good things, even the achievement of peace, this, too, must come to an end, and the harshness of reality must return to be acknowledged.
But this acknowledgement comes with the cheer of Twister Rodriguez, who rewards his friend's performance with a victorious shout.
"Sick tricks, bro! This is definitely gonna be get 2 million views on NewTube!" Twister cheered.
"Only the best tricks from the best skater in existence, yours truly." Otto replied.
The two best friends shared their special handshake in celebration, tapping their fingers on each other's palms while saying...
"Woogity woogity woogity woogity!" Otto and Twister said in unison.
After a moment of cheering over getting the footage for their next internet video, the two sat down on the half-pipe, relaxing after their hard work. Although, of course, most of the physical work was done by Otto, to give him some credit to his brash and sometimes arrogant attitude.
While sitting down and resting from their hours of filming, the two gazed at the empty Madtown, sharing an almost awkward silence in contemplation. While Otto's mind was only on the ride, holding onto his high for dear life as he always did, Twister began to think over the days when Madtown knew much better days, lamenting on the lack of other skaters or signs of life in the park.
"Hey, Otto. Is it just me, or is Madtown, like, extra empty today?" Twister asked.
"It's just you, Twist. Conroy closed down Madtown years ago after Zero Gravity Zone stole all the good skaters away and became a teacher in some other city, hence why we gotta crawl through the fence to get in. How many times do I have to explain this to you?" Otto asked.
"I know, but... It's like there's even less than no people here. Like it's... not that much fun to be here without everyone else here."
"That just means more skating for us, dude. Not to mention we don't gotta pay admission to Madtown anymore. We have low funds as it is."
"Yeah, I know, but still, dude."
The two shared another moment of silence, spending their time thinking over the wisdom in Twister's childish words. While Otto began to see Twister's point about Madtown's closure and the decline of skaters in Ocean Shores, he refused to concede the argument, still holding onto his feelings that they were better off without others taking up space.
It is a childish notion to have, but Otto himself is still childish at heart, leaving this state of arrested development from advancing his emotions any further.
"How about when Ocean Shores was full of people? You ever miss those days?" Twister asked.
"Full of Shoobies, you mean?" Otto replied.
"Well, yeah, I guess so."
"Man, the only good Shoobie is an absent Shoobie. They always suck the fun out of everything. Long lines at the boardwalk, stealing all the waves, making the grub stations extra busy; I'm glad we got it all to ourselves. I just wish that I could've enjoyed all this freedom when I was a kid."
Feeling disappointment in his best friend's lack of perception of the point that he was trying to make, Twister shook his head and sighed at Otto's selfishness.
"I don't know, man, it's still pretty boring. We had some good times, back when it was all of us together. You, me, Reg, and Squid; all of us like a team and stuff." Twister said.
The invocation of their friends' and family's names brought Otto to attention once again, making Twister think that his best friend had at last seen the point he was attempting to make. However, once Otto spoke, his response signaled that this was not the case, instead having interest in himself and own affairs instead.
"Hey, Twist, that reminds me. We'd better get this footage to Squid so he can get it uploaded and we make some ad rev. I got bills to pay." Otto said.
"Uh, don't you mean 'we' have bills to pay? We live in the same place." Twister asked.
"Yeah, whatever, you know what I mean, dude. Come on, let's hit it!"
Turning the trip to Squid's store into a competition, a common trope of most of his actions, Otto ran off to the corner of the fencing around Madtown, crawling underneath and quickly skating off on his board, leaving Twister far behind in the improvised race. Left behind without a chance to consent to the race, Twister called out to Otto in vain.
"Hey! Slow down, Otto!" Twister shouted.
Quickly packing his camera away and retrieving his own skateboard, Twister also crawled under the fence, taking to his fence and beginning to skate as fast as he could to try to catch up to Otto, trying to compensate for his friend's unfair head-start and catch up with him.
Soon making his way back to Otto, the two began to start their race across Ocean Shores to Squid's electronic store, now turning their competition to a fairer race.
Concurrent to the events of the Rockets, the meeting with Alex Gravity and the editor of Ocean Shores Today is not without its own consequences for the day. A long and talkative meeting is what is made, with Alex Gravity making his pitch to his newly-acquired employee, and ensuring that this employee was well-versed in his agenda.
It is a long and long-shot of a plan that the millionaire has planned, and one that has many moral and ethical objections that anyone could make, but the editor is not concerned with these issues. Instead, having his own share of financial troubles, his only concern is the large paycheck that he has been given.
Having listened carefully to his new employer's instructions, the editor gave a nod, complying with the directions given to him.
"Why, yes, sir. I do believe that I can manage that. After all, for the promise of an early retirement out of this shithole of a city, I'll gladly kill my own grandma for you, and she's the sweetest person I've ever known." The editor said.
"Oh, you won't be needing to go those lengths. All you have to do is sign the final checks, pick whatever city you'd like to retire in, and all your troubles are over. You get to live your best life, and I get what I want. Everybody's happy." Alex Gravity said.
Reaching out his hand, the editor gave Alex Gravity a hearty handshake, wearing a big smile on his face following his new financial winnings.
"Of course, sir. Happy to have been to service to you. Happy hunting, sir." The editor said.
"Thank you, but I won't be the one doing the hunting. I have my own crew for that." Alex Gravity said.