Chapter Twenty Six: The biker continues.
“FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT MOTHER FUCKERS!”
Nickles made his way out, the vespa was peeling, long side exhaust extensions burning around the cargo, even with the nitro boost, the vespa really wasn’t doing well, but that didn’t matter, because nickles heard some amazingly loud shit in the sky. I mean, it was just sky splitting bullshit. Not at all the thing that i thought it was going to happen, but basically nickles looked up and saw a crazy guy in a parachute with a machine gun shooting into the trees, a terrified family covered with grime and oil sitting on an even grimier picnic blanket, a bunch of psychotic robots runnign around with plasma lasers and flame thjrowers ddestroying a bunch of old cars, and a really really loud noise off in the distance.
“THIS IS IT!” he thought
“THESE BASTARDS ARE COMING AFTER MY SANDWICHES”
Nickles was not about to let that happen, so, he pulled the brakes on the vespa, and switched furiously at the dashboard of his awesome custom vespa. Predictably, a bunch of metal arms came out and dress him up in some crazy fucking post apocalyptical gear.
“ITS TIME FOR REVENGE!”, he was naturally talking about everything weird thing that had happened to him that he had some how forgot, his past life as a wizard, as a small girl in the country with a pretty yellow sundress, as a raging fucking vampire shitting blood out his eyes and klling small rodents for fun. ALso, he did that as a little country girl. Nickles, in fact was the the living incarnation of human failure, the drastic gulf be tween potential and realization in a person, he was the tobacco sludge on the lungs of a heavy smoker, and he couldn’t remember any of it. There were so many layers of dripping failure, that he had eons ago decided that the life in a shack, accumulating the vices and issues of the collective conscious of casciadia around him was enough to make him just live in his comfy little home, but the hand carved sandwiches had made him taste something primordial, that he hadn’t thought of since jesus rode the dinosaurs to china to fight genghis khan (really fucked up chapter of history, not surprised you havn’t heard it).
Having donned his new jet boots and force field, he flew directly off the vespa and towards the center of the park, towards the terrified picnic people.
“What atre you people doing here!?!” he screamed
“We live here, dickbag, we’re having a picnic.”