Well guys treehugger got da goods enjoy chapter 2!
Chapter 2
It’s days like this that make one thankful for a lot of things, Fangus Klot thought, the many scars on his flesh, each it’s one unique story, his leather kilt, much like a gladiator’s, each fold having a tally mark for each creature that tried to eat his heard of Kileeps, his metal shepherd’s hat with a hole in the top showing the top of his head and ears. He sighed and patted his two large guns, Heartburster with one barrel and spinebreaker with two barrels. He opened his eyes. The constantly cloudy sky gave everything a grayish hue. Heck, his people (the Fangus Clan) had lived here so long that their skin is grayish brown.
His family had herded the flock close to the Paramonia forest and far away from Mumba Mountain, the source of the Mongo River, that bordered the east and north edges of Fangustan. Paramonia was the rest of the border. Yep, life was good.
“Klot Wake up! I can’t find Pa!”
And then the family comes along . . . “Let me guess Pulse, the old fart’s disappeared again,” Klot said getting up. He was nothing like his brother, large, muscular, and battle scared. His brother, on the other hand, was small, scrawny, and liked to wear a white t-shirt with a peace symbol on it. (Thank the Lord that it wasn’t the heart or fuzzle this time). He was the herder, the tender, and the defender, protecting his family and tending the Kileeps.
Pulse was the navigator, the mathematician, and (sadly) the peacemaker, counting moolah, using the stars as a map, and pathetically trying to bring the family back together. Klot kept his emotions inside, didn’t really care about the kileeps, and saw Pa as a useless meat sack. Pulse cried every time Klot put down a Kileep with a broken leg and acted like Pa’s nurse maid.
“Klot, what are we going to do? What if Slegs attack him? Or one of Shmo’s goons finds him?” Pulse was in complete panic mode.
Klot sighed, “Pulse, stay with me, when Pa wanders off where does he usually go?”
“Uhm . . . the flock to preach about how true Fangus should always stick together?”
“Very good, so we’ll take the twelve minute walk to the popberry bushes.”
“But, anything could happen to him!”
“Don’t worry; the old fart isn’t THAT senile.”
They underestimated Pa. “You ungrateful little Punks! I know that things been tuff since your Ma passed away but that’s no reason to hang me in a tree!”
Klot and Pulse looked dumbfounded. Pa, hanging in a tree, looked at two Kileeps who were peacefully munching on a popberry bush. Pa looked at his real sons and suddenly looked calm.
“There you boys are!” Pa said, “I wanted to finally give you the speech!”
“Pulse looked like a fish out of water. “Oh my Odd! Pa, I’m coming; don’t worry, we’ll get you down!”
Klot muttered “Speak for yourself Pulse.”
Pulse quickly ran towards their ailing father. Klot shook his head and started the countdown.
“Five.”
The Kileep took notice of Pulse and gave a savage braagh!
“Four”.
Pulse saw and soiled himself.
“Three.”
The Kileep charged Pulse, wicked teeth showing.
“Two.”
Pa’s branch snapped.
“One.”
Klot dashed forward and grabbed the Kileeps by the horns. He quickly raised them off the ground. Pulse kept running and didn’t know he was under Pa when the branch snapped. In a second Pa was on top of the twitching Pulse. Kileep flailing, Klot walked up to Pulse and Pa, and sighed.
“Guys,” Klot asked his family, “must we go through this every month? It gets old.”
Suddenly, a loud gurgle came from a Kileep, the creature looked in pain. “Ah, oh,” said Klot and tossed the sad creature into the sky. At about fifty feet or so, the popberries kicked in. Fire burst from its arse causing it to go higher and higher.
Pulse slowly pusher Pa off and looked at Klot. “Did I miss something?” asked Pulse.
“Popberries kicked in,” Klot said. “Poor fellar is probably meeting the hand on the moon.”
Pulse grumbled and replied, “It’s an interesting way to survive, eating a highly combustible fruit, looks painful though.” He looked up. “Hey, I think its coming back.”
“Huh?” Klot said. “That’s impossible!”
“Wait, that’s not a Kileep.”
“What?”
“It looks like . . . Oh my Odd!!”
“The little Slurg’s back!”
The thing in question gave a loud sputter and fell down toward them. “Move! Move!” Klot yelled. He grabbed Pa and ran to the nearest hill. Pulse ran right behind him.
The creature landed with a loud crash and a voice laughed. “Duuude!!! That was a-a-a-awesome!”
Klot walked up to the crater. He found a Slig in flying pants sitting in the crater, his face a cornucopia of joy and mild drunkenness. “Hey Nigel,” Klot said.
“Hey Fangus dude! I got another message from Shmo.”
Shmo. Full name, Shmo Minded. This Glukkon wannabe was as dumb as bricks and liked the smell of arse. He owned Fangustan and charged a pretty penny for all Fanguses. The jerk was the whole reason the Kileeps were in Fangustan, selling wool to String-a-Ling Clothing Co.
“I already paid Shmo, Nigel,” Klot said.
Nigel, still annoyingly perky, slurred a reply. “Shmo said it ain’t up to standards, wants to talk to you in the Drunk and Lovin’ It.”
“I hate that tavern.”
“He knows dude, that’s the whole point.” The Slig gave a loud belch, got his pants working, and flew off.
Klot sighed and turned to Pulse, “Get Pa, we’re going to Glukaluck.”
Through several . . . ahem, questionable businesses Klot ad bought himself an XXXXXXXXLLLL Dune Buggy. As they closed in on the small and humble burg of Glukaluck, Klot couldn’t stop but think of Ma. He never showed it but he missed her even after twenty years. He saw it happen . . . He saw . . .
“Klot!”
Klot jumped and the dune buggy swerved almost hitting a Clakker. Klot looked at Pulse, “What the Odd was that for?!”
Pulse shrank and stuttered, “Y-You dr-dr-drove straight into th-the town.”
Klot looked up. Clakkerz looked at him fearfully. Reasonable since most traders stopped at the sign that said no vehicles beyond this point. Klot glared at the Clakkerz and jumped out of the buggy. “Well,” he said, “let’s go to the Drunk and Lovin’ It.”
Pulse quickly looked at Pa. “Don’t worry Pa, we’ll come back soon.”
“Pa, smiling like a hyena said, “Now don’t take too long, I know you like visiting Ma but I’m pretty sure the Vykkers want to get a jump on the next shot.”
Klot flinched. Pulse, giving Pa a hug, hurried up after Klot. Klot briskly asked “Is he strapped in? I don’t want a repeat of the lederhosen incident.”
Pulse sighed, “Klot, it’s not Pa’s fault he’s old and that Clakker shouldn’t leave his trampoline in the street.” He gave Klot a stare. “Klot, I know you hate it when Pa mentions Ma but, but, you shouldn’t . . .”
“We’re off the subject,” Klot said and stopped grimacing. Of all the joints in Gluckaluck Shmo had to choose to hang out in it had to be the Drunk and Lovin’ It. The seedy bar was filled to the brim with lowlifes, heck the only reason it still stood was because Shmo loved the joint. Klot opened the door and gave a gasp.
Pulse followed and quickly puked on the floor. “That’s sick!” he said. The bar had cages, and in each cage was a Mudoken mime.
Klot, trying not to look at the mimes, surveyed the bar looking to find the table where Shmo was sitting. Bingo! Shmo was sitting in his usual booth, two Sligs guarding it using new goggles to see through the suffocating cigar smog. Klot walked to the booth and said the #$@* password: “I love Shmo, Shmo employees me, we’re a happy corporate business-ship. With a great big hug, and bit-o-moolah for you, won’t you say ‘pay up you scum!”
The Sligs parted and Shmo sat there, a cigar the size of a foot in his mouth. Shmo Minded had an odd taste in clothing, preferring clothes from the seventeenth century. He even had a powdered wig and macaroni. “Tooks ya long enough,” he said,A Slig quickly straightened his macaroni. “Now Mr. PanPus you seem to be exactly a hundred grand behind.”
Klot growled, “We told you three days ago Shmo that our herd was hit by a rabies outbreak.” Klot’s fists clenched. “We had to put half the herd down.”
Shmo guffawed (glared at the Sligs) and the Sligs joined in, “That’s the most stupidest excuse ever! There ain’t any rabies in Fangustan! Just give me the grand.”
Klot’s body started to shake with anger, guttural growls filled his chest. He slammed his fist on the table. “See this?” Klot screamed, pointing at a festering bite mark. “As I put down one of your demons, it sank its teeth in my arm! It still hurts! Oh Odd, it hurts!”
The Sligs slooowly started to back away, shaking. But, Shmo didn’t seem to notice. “Wow, that’s a baaad bite! Heh, good thing we’ve all got our shots, huh?” He looked up and saw the growing amount of foam in the corner of Klot’s mouth. “Oh Odd!!! You didn’t take your shots!”
Klot’s veins popped up, his eyes glowed red, and also did a brilliant impression of chameleon eyes. Shmo hopped as fast as a Glukkon could, yelling all the way.
Fangus grabbed his guns and screamed “Hey Shmoey! I got some lead for you!!!!!!”
Shmo gave a scream that only a tenor could do and made it to the door. “Open the door! Open the door!!” Shmo screamed. “For the love of Odd, open the door!!!”
Fangus put a bullet in Heartburster, aimed and pulled the trigger. Sadly, when you’re in a demonic rage you tend to miss, making a glukken sized hole. Shmo squirmed through the hole in the door. Screaming, he got through the hole and hopped to his limo. The door automatically opened and Shmo jumped in. As the door closed, he looked at the tavern just as Klot burst through the doors.
“Hey Shmoey,” he cried, “I got the mimes and now I’m after yooouuu!!!”
The desperate Glukkon looked at his Mudoken driver and screamed “Floor it Joe! Floor it for my life!!” The limo zoomed off leaving a maniacal Fangus behind.
Six hours after the Fangus incident, Shmo laid in his bed, cuddling his Fleech.
“Sir?”
Shmo looked up. A Mudoken stood there trying his best not to laugh. “All security personnel are closing in on the offending Fangus’s camp.”
“Good,” Shmo said. “Soon that . . . MEANY will regret shooting at Shmo Minded! Oh and get the hot milk done soon. I’ll need a bedtime story tonight!”
After hiding for six hours, Pulse looked out from behind the bar counter. The Drunk and Lovin’ It looked like a warhead had blown it up. As he searched what remained of Gluckaluck he found hundreds of bodies showing all that remained of the citizens, mostly drumsticks. Pulse finally found a dozing Klot in the dune buggy.
Pulse looked at a smiling Pa who said, “You boys and your pals! You always seemed to come back more tired than a Kileep in Orcan Valley.”
Pulse slowly reached out and touched Klot. Klot jumped and gave a snort. “What happened? Why am I in the dune buggy?”
Pulse shook his head and said “Klot you have rabies.”
Klot snorted “No I don’t!”
“You need to see the Vykkers.”
“No, I don’t Pulse.”
“You need to take a rabies shot.”
“I’m not taking a shot! Shots killed Ma!!”
“Klot, I told you we needed the moolah-”
“I don’t care how much moolah we needed! That’s no reason to donate your body to the Vykkers to test vaccines, it isn’t worth it! You were too young to see her take the rabies shot! I saw her go mad, getting killed by Interns ‘humanely’! I’m not taking a shot and you’ll get in the dune buggy so we can leave this Odd forsaken place!”
Pulse quickly got in the dune buggy and they went home. It may be his imagination or was that foam in the corner of Klot’s mouth?
hope it's satisfiyng