#million dollar baby starring seven and this old lizard guy

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc IV: Megamart of Darkness (10)

Chapter 10: Bokrug vs. A-Bomb vs. Watt! Ultimate Deathmatch!!!

Despite having only golf clubs, A-Bomb was fearless. A reckless sort of fearlessness that leads one to charge a 25 pound, machine gun toting mass of unadulterated avian fury.

A fearlessness that would only make sense if your opponent was playing right into your hands.

“Bokrug! Look out!”

By the time the last word left my mouth, it was too late. A-Bomb teed off on Bokrug’s jaw, sending the gander flying. The machine gun clattered to the ground, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. All that was left was for A-Bomb to start teeing off on Bokrug’s downed carcass, which he gleefully did. Repeatedly. And it looked very painful, so painful it scared me out of mini golf for life. Even so much as touching a club gives me memories of the poor goose’s gasps of pain.

“Please, my child.” He begged “You may have fallen far, but the kind, innocent boy I once knew is still in there. I can feel it!”

“Really? Because my internet history says otherwise!”

If Bokrug wasn’t getting hit before, now he’d been reduced to the world’s downiest piñata. And yours truly could only watch helplessly as his physical form looked like it was gonna explode into a million bloody pieces any second, too glued to my seat (literally) to do anything. Or was I? Because A-Bomb had only glued the bottom of my seat. If I could only wriggle out of my pants…

           Gotta give credit to Bokrug: he held out much longer than I thought he would. But even dinosaurs fall with enough beating, and before long A-Bomb was standing triumphantly over his kill like some African big game hunter. Right as I was able to slip out of my pants. Though when you consider I was wearing my pachyrhinosaurus underwear, the exact same smelly pair I’d been wearing since I’d left camp, this may have made my problem much, much worse.

           A-Bomb laughed loud and deep at the sight, his face turning a deep red. This must have gone on for several minutes, him constantly on the verge of chortling his lungs out, myself too strawberry red to move. Then, once he’d spit out enough chuckles to speak again:

“A-are you kidding me?!“He pointed at me like some schoolyard bully. “Of all the dinosaurs you get monogramed on your underwear, you chose the NERD one?!”

I breathed deep. “Pachyrhinosauus is an amazing and criminally underrated member of the ceratopsian clade! In addition, it is woefully underrepresented in museu-”

A-Bomb thought that was a regular knee slapper.

“Kid, everyone knows the only reason they throw Pachyrhinosaurus in museums is so they can reach their diversity quotas! Yy-you are such a pathetic NERD!” Another fit of laughter later, he added “I-I can’t kill you like this!”

He snapped his fingers, summoning a legion of brown bagger clones armed with those dumb laser scanners to circle us.

“How about this? For making me laugh, I’ll let you escape! Heck, I’ll throw in a 30 second head start, free of charge!”

The Brown Baggers joined their master’s jeering, lest they be sent to the unemployment line (AKA Pete’s Slaughterhouse). Speaking of the Master, he pulled a bottle of Crystal Springs Water from his khakis and began chugging like he’d hadn’t drunk in a week, the power coursing through his veins.

           I should have run, run like the pathetic wimp I was. But I didn’t. Because at the end of the day, you can steal sacred water from roleplaying geese. You can threaten to turn me into a corporate slave. You can bludgeon a close friend of mine within an inch of his life with and force me to watch. Heck, you can even force me to watch Carney the dinosaur sixty hours straight if you wanna! But nobody, and I mean NOBODY, makes fun of my pachyrhinosaurus underpants and lives to see the next sunrise!

           Instead, I dashed for my pants, thirty seconds ticking away fast. Ten seconds in, I was pulling the packet of grow dinosaurs from my pocket. Another ten I got the stupid wrapping off.

Nine…

I remembered what Bokrug had said about the water, how it was enchanted and whatnot.

Eight…

Problem was, I had no idea where the real water was. The only one I knew was the real deal was being held by A-Bomb, and I sure wasn’t getting there.

Seven…

Unless… I looked at the sad water fountain, spurting alone between two shelves. Maybe the water of the sacred spring wasn’t in a bottle at all.

Six…

I concentrated. No going back now. No regrets…

Five…

A red pill rocketed through the air, a glorious, million dollar shot. A million glowing red darts marked themselves on me.

Four…

Three seconds. Four tense, terrible seconds of that pill riding the wind, right to the rim of the water fountain, teetering on the edge until, at last, the Luck of the Tostigs pulled through, and that baby went right down the drain.  

Three, two…

Something pushed out from inside the water fountain, something BIG!

One…

Shrapnel exploded from where the water fountain had once been as a giant sponge triceratops burst out, alien style. The beast charged, plowing down brown baggers like they were blades of grass. As for A-Bomb, he didn’t even get a chance to set a stupid expression on his face before he was reduced to a red stain on the tile floor. And from where that water fountain once stood, the sacred spring gushed forth, coating the rest of the little sponge grow capsules, turning them to life-size dinosaurs. Not missing a beat, I hopped on the triceratops, and gave it a little bit of Tostig family advice:

“CHAAAARRRRGGGGGGEEEEEE!”

And boy howdy, did we! With a bellow that shook the foundations of the Wegmart, the triceratops launched fifty employees so high they left little brown bagger shaped holes in the ceiling! Heck, if I hadn’t used my toe claws to lodge myself in its’ skin, I might have been tossed into the next state!. Meanwhile, where the water of the Sacred Sprinng showered on Bokrug, he changed, wings becoming massive muscular arms, a wide sail growing on his back, his face becoming long and crocodilian, feathers became scales. A form I would recognize anywhere: Spinosaurus Aegyptus.

The brown baggers scattered. One dinosaur they could handle, but thirteen? Not a chance! Together, we watched the remaining five or so survivors flee into the stock room as we posed epically on a thousand foot mountain made of their corpses. Any that weren’t fast enough were picked up in Bokrug’s massive jaws and flipped up into the air, only to be swallowed whole like gingerbread pancakes! Our remaining troops, few as there were, flocked to join us.

We’d won.

The words felt weird on my lips, my brain still trying to grasp what just happened.

We’d won.

Yet I couldn’t deny it: somehow, we’d kicked out the most powerful company in Pennsylvania.

“WE’VE WON!”

Bokrug bellowed majestically into the air, his voice ancient and primeval The rest of the birds, dinosaurs, shopping carts, and whoever else was in our slapdash army joined in:

“WE WON! WE WON! WE WON!”

And they carried me out of the store on their wings like I was some kind of rock star.

                                                             .   .   .

           That night, we partied. And by partied I mean set out the spoils of our war (snack chips and pretzels, mostly) while everyone stood awkwardly around the punch bowl, not knowing what to say (for guys who wore party hats all the time, LARP geese sure don’t know how to hold a conversation). Bokrug especially seemed interested in going to the little dino’s room and staying there a really long time. As for me, I stared into one of the barbeque fires we’d set around the place for lighting, plotting my next move. Hilda and whatever we’d put in Ms. Hoebag’s body were running the camp like a Siberian Gulag; in the middle of it all was my ticket back to reality, and by extension, my Gameboy Advance.

And, y’know, Mom was probably worried sick about me.

After half an hour of brisk walking, I found the bathroom door. I knocked twice.

“Bokrug, you in there?”

“My apologies,” bellowed the dinosaur, “but it seems as a final act of resistance, the minions of darkness burned all the toilet paper, so that we may never properly use their waste depository facilities.”

Sighing, I shoved some party napkins under the door.

“These do not seem to be the papers I seek. Are you certain these will work?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

One flush later, Bokrug barreled out, knocking the door off its’ hinges.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I replied, heading in myself.

Bokrug cocked his head to the side, the way birds do when they’re curious.

“And why would you leave paradise? With the waters of the Sacred Springs in our grasp, we shall soon surpass even the empire of Tako Shak in power!”

I shook my head, strategically positioning Mr. Weenie over the dung pit, letting loose. Bullseye. “Bok, I want to stay, but my Mom and Gameboy are at home, and I’m sure as heck my dirty rotten little brother isn’t going to give them company.”

The dinosaur could only stare in awed amazement as I epically exited the loo, piece of toilet paper attached to my shoe. “Long story short, I’m going to summer camp. Wanna join me?”

The dinosaur shook his crocodilian head.  “While the idea of devouring communist elementary schoolers does pique my interest, my responsibilities are to my people. I cannot leave them leaderless at such an incredible time.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling a little bit damped down. “There’ll be all the communist turds you can eat.”

“Watterson, you have helped me when I needed it most, but you have your family, and I must care for mine. Surely, you understand?”

And for the first time I thought about how I had left Hilda at summer camp. I wondered how she was holding on now that Shatner and I had left.  

But before I could head on my way, the old water lizard had one last surprise in store for me.  “However, there is one gift I can give you.”

Holding out a scaly hand, I saw the grow capsules I’d filched off Wegmart, now turned into tiny sponge dinosaurs that galloped across he palm.

“My apologies, they shrunk in the sun.”

You’d think I’d be upset, but I wasn’t worried. Not at all.

                                                            .   .   .

           And so we went on our quest: me and twelve grow-sponge saurian mercenaries from hell. We walked along a dirt road for about twelve hours before, as luck would have it, along trundled a Systo delivery truck, the same kind that delivered the crap food to camp. Hitchhiking wasn’t as hard as I thought (having dinosaur claws makes you surprisingly persuasive!), and soon me and the dinosaurs were crammed into a cardboard box in the semitrailer.

And so I sat in the dark, curled up inside a cardboard box meant for Styrofoam containers trying to formulate the master plan to get my body back. And by formulate a master plan I mean trying not to laugh at the Spongeboy jokes that would randomly pop into my head and focus, darn it!

Instead, I found myself drifting to sleep as the truck rolled across the winding backroads leading to fate, to destiny, to the thing that had started this all…

                                                  Summer Camp.

(Okay, so maybe I started it all by putting firecrackers in Dad’s cereal, but hey, I wasn’t the one who forced a young, innocent mind to watch Barney the ‘Dinosaur’. ‘Shudder’)

                                     Part IV: MegaMart of Darkness: End

(Author’s Note: To everyone who’s read this far: thank you for hanging with me all this time! It really does mean a lot to me! Anyways, as it stands, I’m not quite happy with the final arc, so I’ll be taking a month’s hiatus to maybe fine-tune it a little bit. Until then, thank you so much for staying with this story, and see you soon!)