Our Protagonists Almost Die Before They Even Get To The Start
Our Protagonists Are Introduced And Act Like Somewhat Normal People
In Which They Noise Pollute Like College Frat Boys And Are Thoroughly Outdone by a Blue Man
In Which They Argue About Playing Gay Chicken With Keys Being Hidden in Unmentionable Places
Seriously read my shit, this is going downhill so fast. Or not. Some of it’s so horrible I feel like I should include a trigger warning for mild bro-on-bro sexual assault or something
#Team Flaming Fart Cannon
Raindrops keep falling on my head,
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed,
Nothing seems to fit,
Those raindrops keep falling on my head,
They keep falling-
Strop’s eyes cracked open, then he blinked, as another drop fell on his head. Where the hell was he? Last he remembered, he was in a bed… it wasn’t his own bed.
Drip. Another drop. He stared upwards and squinted. A face with a shock of red hair squinted back.
“FUCK.” Strop sat bolt upright, almost cracking his head on Kai’s face, if not for the latter’s race driver reflexes. “Seriously what the fuck man, and why are you wet.”
Kai bounced off the bed, leaving a big wet patch. “There was a nice pool.”
Strop boggled. “First, as if the pool would be open at… what, six in the morning, and second, this motel doesn’t even have a pool so where the fuck were you.”
Kai shrugged. “I dunno. Also, it was more like four. I got bored because I can’t find the keys.” He paused, before turning to fix Strop with a meaningful stare. “Did you actually shove them up your butt?”
“No! As if I would!” Strop shrank back, horrified, but more horrified still when they both heard the telltale clink of keys in the vicinity of Strop’s crotch.
“The keys say otherwise!” Kai advanced towards Strop, who was now backed up all the way against the bedboard. “Okay okay man, just keep calm, I know it sounds stupid but I honestly thought you were gonna jack the car overnight because you’re a total race otaku and AHHHH OH MY GOD-”
That was the moment Kai, still maintaining direct eye contact with Strop, plunged his hand down Strop’s pants and started ferreting around Strop’s goods for the keys.
At this point, I shall deliberately break the fourth wall, as this passage’s author, to pause for a moment of reflection. You may be thinking what am I doing writing such explicit content in such poor taste. And why doesn’t poor Strop simply grab Kai’s hand and rip it off for invading his sanctum in such a licentious fashion. Well, I can’t say I speak purely from experience here, but I ask you to imagine what it feels like to have your jimmies forcibly rustled: it’s actually pretty paralysing. Remember kiddies, victim blaming ain’t cool.
After a good twenty seconds (or an eternity) of squirming and a hand being in places it was never invited to, ever, Kai fished out the keys and triumphantly held them aloft. “Behold! The fruits of your labour!” He promptly went to christen the keys and baptise them in bleach while Strop rolled around on the floor clutching his violated goolies.
By the time Kai finished, his hands were red raw, and Strop had regathered the remnants of his non-existent dignity, changed, and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Did you enjoy that Kai?” he spat between scrubs. “Did you enjoy rustling my jimmies? Did your bisexual self feel like it was neglecting the feeling of playing with balls?”
Kai blew a raspberry at Strop. “Hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”
Inwardly, Strop growled, and brushed the remainder of his teeth in awkward silence.
Twenty minutes later, Strop’s glower had not faded much, staring daggers at Kai over breakfast. “I still can’t believe you actually went that far.”
“Hey man, you were the one who shoved the keys down your pants. I totally told you I’d get them back.” He suspiciously eyed the world-famous BBQ oysters (seriously? Oysters for breakfast?), favouring the pancakes, and pancakes with syrup, and pancakes with jam, and poached eggs, and bacon, and fried mushrooms. “So it was totally fair warning.”
Strop huffed, but said nothing. After all, Kai was literally correct, and judging by the smug grin on his face rating a 10 on the ‘would dearly like to punch’ scale, he knew it.
“Never do that again or I’m seriously telling Bianca.”
Even Strop’s trump card folded. “What, about your key in butt fetish? Can you imagine explaining to E how you hid the keys up your butt? Yeah, I thought so, doesn’t sound good no matter how you spin it hahahahaha.”
Well, of course. Somewhere along the way this line of event had gone from sounding like a good idea at the time, to kind of stupid, to not making even any sense at all. Just like their car and this entire trip! Whatever!
Though that didn’t quite erase the weirdness of him putting the keys down his pants and having one of his best friends with whom he shared zero sexual tension put his hand down his pants. You know, just best friends… copping a feel. Eurgh.
Seven o’clock, and the steam of their breath drifted through the light drizzle. Kai was inappropriately attired, as usual, thanks to his weird Scandanavian cold resistance. Strop was in his puffy waterproof jacket. Since Kai had the keys once more, it seemed he would continue driving, as was his wont.
“What are you doing Kai,” he said as Kai fished a suspicious looking bar out of his pocket and promptly jammed it between the driver’s door and the window sill of Toothless. “Are you seriously breaking into your own car.”
“Duh,” Kai said, sliding the bar down, yanking it and popping the door open in all of four seconds. Ten seconds later and he had cracked the fuse box and hotwired the car, the engine cranking to life. “Did you forget I spent like a year being the Phantom of the Street after I got fired from my last job before GG?” He finally looked at Strop, whose face indeed confirmed that yes, he had completely forgotten this fact, the final underscore to the complete and utter uselessness of his defiant gesture of stupidity. Then he started laughing.
“As if I’m going to touch those keys again. After where they been, they’re going up in flames along with the rest of the car!”
MRL: 6+ (or more like 10+ for Kai, -4 for Strop, at least, temporarily)