ALL YOU CAN EAT SUSHI
by
Brendan Borba
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Brendan Borba
Published by Brendan Borba at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Brendan Borba
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the authors work.
This book is dedicated to:
My wife Therese Joy, because she's always known.
Chapter One:
The Death of Roger Moore
Colin groaned loudly. He resisted opening his eyes. The various sharp pains digging into his back and the inevitable brightness on the other side of his eyelids gave him a pretty good idea of what he was to open his eyes to. Blinking several times, the bright sun rushed into his retinas. He slowly lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the full sun above. His head spun and his neck ached as he carefully turned his head side to side.
“Hung over in a ditch, great way to start the day,” he said to no one. He coughed and groaned as he pulled himself out of the ditch. The rough grass and dusty pebbles beneath him crunched as he stood to his feet. He ran his hand through his messy dark-brown hair while looking around trying to figure out just where he was. It certainly wasn’t anywhere he recognized. Pulling out his cell phone from the front pocket of his blue jeans, he tried to turn it on, but the dead black screen took pleasure in taunting him. He shook his head as he looked to the long forested road that sprawled in front of him. His head dropped.
“Damn it. Go figures.”
He wasn’t all too surprised though; that was more or less how his life had been going lately. He couldn’t help but smile in spite of it all. Hands held tight against his temples in an attempt to alleviate his headache he began to walk down the road.
One excruciating step at a time he made his way along the empty road. The asphalt beneath his feet gave little to his weary legs and the ominous oaks and cedars beyond shot high into the clear summer air. The hot summer day quickly turned into a warm summer night as, in a brilliant show of crimson and burgundy, the sun dropped behind the tall thick trees that blanketed his surroundings. Colin began to wonder just how long he’d spent in that ditch.
In desperate need of some water and a couple Tylenol, he trudged on. With his worn sneakers he kicked a particularly round stone down the road with him while humming the theme from Hawaii 5-0. His eyes twitched and he looked once more to the quickly vanishing sun, the coolness of the theme song not setting in until that very moment.
“Where the hell am I?” He thought, not admitting to himself that he really didn’t want to be walking down this road in the dark. His mind began to wander; “what if there was a bear or cougar lurking in the woods? There more than likely was.” He stopped and stood still for a moment, as if listening for any nearby predators.
“Get a grip on yourself man!” He tried reassuring himself, “ten years of kickboxing and you’re afraid of some lousy animal”. He continued walking again, but waited; “what if there were mutant bears… with laser beams? Shit.” Now he had himself scared.
He tried to take his mind off of laser capable mutant bears by humming the Hawaii 5-0 theme song again, but it just wasn’t the same. Now the only theme he could seem to remember was from Jaws; which didn’t exactly help.
“God damned Paul! This is all his fault,” He grinded his teeth, but stopped as it only made his head ache worse. “Stupid him, Mr. Come on Colin, no need to be down, come out to UBC with me tonight, huge frat party, we can get hammered, it’ll be great!” He mimicked, “asshole.”
Only a sliver of day could be seen on the horizon as Colin pushed on; a final ray of sunshine before the last traces of light disappeared behind the pine covered mountain side. The light drew Colin’s attention to something in the ditch several feet away. He stopped, turning his head sideways.
Was this just a cleverly laid out trap that the mutant bears had set for him? Or could it be, he wondered; a pile of treasure, or even a bottle of water; which at this point in time he happened to crave far more than any treasure.
He cautiously stumbled over to the whatever-it-was in the ditch. Leaning over to get a closer look, head still spinning, he fell face first into the dip at the side of the road. He laughed at his own misfortune.
“Back in the ditch again,” he chuckled. Trying to focus his eyes, he propped himself up on one arm and coughed as the dust settled around him. It was quite dark out now, but by the glittering of the stars above he could still see the black shape beside him. He reached over and ever so carefully graced it with the palm of his hand. He sighed with relief; it was only a duffle bag.
He grabbed it and swung it onto his lap. It was heavier than he expected and his fingers fumbled for a second, looking for the zipper. He unzipped the plain black duffle bag and strained his eyes to see in. It was too dark to see whatever was inside, so he reached in with his pale hand and grimaced at what he felt to be some kind of hardened gelatinous substance.
“Yuck!” he squealed out loud. He threw the duffle bag aside in disgust. Then, thinking for a moment, zipped it back up and slung it over his shoulder before climbing out of the ditch. It wasn’t every day you find a free duffle bag, he reasoned.
The bright nearly-full moon cast eerie shadows across the lush jagged landscape as Colin, whose hangover had subsided to a fairly unpleasant headache, continued his monotonous trek through the dark forest. He still wasn’t sure what was inside the duffle bag; but he was glad that at least it didn’t smell.
While walking, he slowly became aware of how great his vision was adjusting to the dark. He began to see the outlines of the trees better, even the road in front of him seemed to light up before his eyes. He smiled, proud of himself; figuring all those carrots he’d eaten had finally paid off. Then he realized that it was just the headlights of a car coming from behind.
Turning around, still in the middle of the road, he peered into the oncoming headlights; the very fast oncoming headlights. The roaring engine filled his ears as he leaped out of the way of the speeding car. He rolled over, dust filling his nostrils. He bounded to his feet, surprise turning to anger as the speeding automobile barrelled forward.
“Hey! Asshole! Where’s the fire?” Colin yelled waving his arms high in the air; the duffle bag almost falling off of his shoulder. The car stopped dead in its tracks some twenty metres in front of him. A split second later and Colin’s anger quickly dissipated as he noticed the reverse lights go on.
“Yes, here’s my ticket outta here,” Colin grinned. The silver coupe speedily reversed and braked hard just as the driver’s window was in line with him. His eyebrows rose as he checked out the flashy new Aston Martin. The tinted window slid down.
“Hey, wanna give me a lift outta here by any chance?” Colin asked shamelessly.
“Where did you get that duffle bag son?” The handsome, grey haired man sitting in the driver seat asked; his voice smooth as silk.
“In the ditch, back there,” Colin shrugged truthfully.
“It’s mine, give it to me.”
“What? Hell no,” Colin fought, aghast at the man’s straight forward attitude.
“Look son, I’d love to chat, I really would, some tea would be nice too, but I need that bag!” The man gave Colin a sexy-serious look. One that Colin found vaguely familiar.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Colin asked.
“There’s really no time for this! Give me the bag!”
Noticing his newly found leverage, Colin pulled out his ace.
“You see Mr. Someone-I’m-sure-I-know-from-somewhere, the thing is, in the whole ten minutes I’ve had this bag I’ve grown quite attached to it, and where it goes, I go.” Colin smiled a toothy smile, a twinkle in his eye giving away his upper hand.
“Listen son, you don’t know what’s in that bag. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want anything to do with it. Give it to me now and go on with your life.”
Colin wasn’t going to let this one end any other way than him getting a ride out of this forest.
“No deal!” Colin mocked the television show. The man sighed and shook his head.
“Look I don’t have time for this!” He spat, nervously looking back down the dark road, breaking his suave demeanour for the first time.
“Then, I guess you’d better take me with you!” Colin insisted.
“Fine. Get in.”
Colin whooped with joy as he circled around the car; opened the door and sank into the beautiful leather passenger seat while several meters away in the thick brush of the forest, the beady eyes of hungry laser beam equipped mutant bears peered out at him studying his every move.
“Nice ride!” Colin exclaimed, running his hands over the smooth leather upholstery. His fascination with the interior of the car was abruptly interrupted by the sudden propulsion of the vehicle.
“Holy shit homie!” Colin exclaimed out loud, struggling to buckle his seat belt as the man sped recklessly down the winding road. Finally having buckled himself in, but not feeling any safer, he turned to the driver, and it struck him.
“I do know you! You’re Sean Connery!” Colin exclaimed.
“Guess again,” The man spoke mysteriously as his foot continued to weigh heavily upon the accelerator.
“Oh, sorry man, I guess I don’t know you then,” Colin was slightly bummed out, having thought he had it figured out.
“It’s Moore, Roger Moore,” the man informed, his blue eyes flickering in the glow of the cars heads up display.
“Oh, yeeeaah, I know you! You’re Jame-”
“Shhh!”
“What?”
“We can’t say the JB word,” Roger Moore whispered.
“Why not?”
“Copy right infringement or something…” Roger Moore shrugged.
“Oh. Fair enough.”
Roger Moore shook out his blazer, and cleared his throat, the suave returning to his eyes.
“So, what’s your name?” He winked at Colin.
“Uhh… Colin,” Colin was slightly disturbed.
“That’s a very, sensual name,” Roger Moore pursed his lips in that way that only he could.
“Okay! Wait a second!” Colin threw his hands in the air, genuinely freaked out, “are you trying to make a move on me?”
“Are you a hot girl?” Roger Moore asked; apparently just as confused as Colin.
“What? No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m very sure!” The two traded perturbed looks for several moments.
“Then no, I am not making a move on you.”
Colin held his disturbed look for a second longer, before looking to the speedometer.
“Holy crap dude, trying for a personal best?”
“What?” Roger Moore at first didn’t know what Colin was talking about, “Oh no, but we must hurry because if they catch up to us we are in big trouble.”
“Who? And why?”
“They’re after the contents of that duffle bag, and we can’t let them get a hold of it.” Roger Moore focused on the road and sped up even faster.
“So, what exactly is in this duffle bag anyways?” Colin asked, but Roger Moore had no time to answer, as both of them immediately turned their attention to the pair of headlights that jolted around a hairpin turn behind them.
The car surged forward as thunder roared through the car.
“What was that?” Colin asked, holding on tightly to the door handle.
“Bullets of course.” Roger Moore gave him that ‘obviously’ look.
“Why are they shooting at us? Who’s shooting at us?” Colin was visibly flustered; having never been shot at before.
Roger Moore turned to face a very worried Colin.
“The penguins,” His face was dead cold serious. Colin’s face also turned to one of seriousness. Bastard Penguins, he thought, he should have known they would be behind this; whatever ‘this’ was.
Roger Moore kicked it into sixth gear, pressing as hard as he could on the gas. The Silver Aston Martin grew faster steadily; skidding around the dark corners of the curving forest road, but the large black SUV behind, undoubtedly an Escalade; the penguins car of choice, was in hot pursuit and wasn’t giving an inch. Bullets flew from the barrels of Uzi’s as several penguins hung out the side of the black SUV. The front end of the luxury sport utility dug deep into the rear of the Speedster.
“Shit,” Roger Moore mumbled under his breath realizing he wouldn’t be able to outrun them. He looked to Colin, “hold on tight son.”
Taking a deep, regulated breath Roger Moore cranked the wheel hard, slamming his foot on the brake. The car, while still being carried forward with vicious momentum, spun around 180 degrees, placing it face to face with the black SUV. The British Secret Agent shot his arm out the window, gun in hand. He fired five or six shots at the oncoming SUV before swerving out of its way at the last second. Colin had his eyes tightly closed, but could still feel the barrage of bullets lodging into the front end and driver side of the car.
Colin waited, his eyes still closed, his entire body tense until he felt the car come to a full stop. Beyond the hum of the Aston Martin’s engine he could hear a screeching of tires and the snapping of wood. He persisted, waiting a moment longer then, mustering the courage opened his eyes. He looked nervously around. At first he could see nothing but darkness but as his eyes adjusted he noticed the clear skid marks on the worn pavement where the Penguin’s SUV had plummeted off the side of the road and into the forested ravine below.
“Holy shit Mr. Moore, you must have great aim!” exclaimed Colin, but as he turned to Roger Moore he realized that the penguins must also have good aim.
“Look Colin,” Roger Moore was hardly audible, blood pouring from his mouth, “My time has come. You must not let the penguins get a hold of that duffle bag…” He clutched at his chest, smoke still rising from the fresh bullet wounds.
“Uh, Mr. Moore, I’d hate to be a bother, but uhm… don’t die? That would put me in a really uhm… awkward position.” Colin pleaded. His mind raced, wishing he’d paid more attention in first aid class.
“There’s one last thing Colin,” Roger Moore ignored his concerns and motioned for Colin to come closer. Colin leaned over the gear shift towards him.
“Yes?”
“If you were a hot girl, I totally would have gotten with you,” and with that, Roger Moore died in the front seat of his Aston Martin.
Colin stepped out of the car, leaving the duffle bag in the passenger seat. He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes looking to the empty bullet casings strewn across the dark road, then to the still running bullet riddled sports car, and finally to the dead body inside.
Then, Colin did the only thing that any one could have done had they been in the same situation. He popped open the trunk, put Roger Moore’s body in it, got into the drivers seat and drove off down the road.
As Colin sped down the dark road, sitting in the blood drenched driver’s seat, mysterious black duffle bag on the seat beside him he couldn’t help but feel that his life was about to get very confusing.
Chapter Two:
No Officer, Roger Moore’s Dead Body Is Definitely Not in the Trunk
On any other occasion, on any other night, Colin would have been overjoyed at the opportunity of driving a brand new Aston Martin. However it wasn’t any other occasion and it was that night, and Roger Moore’s dead body was in the trunk and Colin, still slightly hung over, was unfortunately unable to fully enjoy the driving experience to the extent that the nice people at Aston Martin Motors Corp. had intended.
Colin lifted his hand from the wheel and rubbed his temple as he sped forward. The dense forest had subsided to little more than scattered brush as the odd house and an old weed ravaged sidewalk began to appear. He sighed with relief; glad that he had found his way back to civilization, but he shook his head as he tried to fully comprehend the events that had taken place. There road was still and quiet, void of anyone other then himself and he wondered what time it actually was; as well as where he actually was. He peered nervously out the side windows as the speedster continued onwards, hoping to see anything that would give him a clue as to his whereabouts. The houses, perched on the hills rising out of the side of the still winding road were eclectic and old. To his right, through tall towering firs and over the rooftops of low-lying houses he could see the shimmering of water under the moonlit sky.
He re-focused his eyes on the pavement in front of him and continued on. After several minutes the road straightened out and the sight of traffic lights brought a simple comfort to the nineteen year old. Though one problem remained; he still didn’t know where he was, and if he didn’t know where he was he wouldn’t know how to get out of where he was. He took a right at the light. As he straightened the wheel of the car an illuminated Chevron sign caught his eye. He pulled a sharp into the station and rolled cautiously up to the gas bar.
A frumpy looking old man, eye bags looking as though they might pull his eyes shut at any moment, stood out front of the gas bar puffing on a cigarette. The man wore a pale blue Chevron uniform, which ruled him out as a random homeless guy, though his facial features looked the part. Pulling up beside the old man, he rolled the window down.
“Hey boss,” Colin tried to put on a pleasant tone; ignoring the blood soaked seat he sat in. The man, who looked as though he might just fall over dead at any second, merely groaned in response. “Right, umm, mind telling me where we are?” Colin looked away, realizing how absurd his question was.
“You don’t know where you are?” The old man barked; his voice hoarse and raspy from years of too many cigarettes.
“Honestly, no.”
“So you just got lost driving around in the middle of the night in a $160,000 car?”
“Yes,” Colin almost believed himself. The old man must have found that entertaining, for he broke out in a laughter that quickly turned into a hacking cough.
“How fast does it go?” The man raised his eyebrows as his cough subsided. The question caught Colin off guard.
“Fast?” His reply was more of a question than an answer.
“I could still beat ya’,”
“Excuse me?” Colin wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
“You see that beauty around the corner?” The old man puffed out his chest. Colin squinted, looking to a red Pontiac parked beside a dumpster.
“The Pontiac?”
“The Pontiac?! The Pontiac?!” The old man seemed aghast at Colin’s under whelmed response, “My son, that’s a ‘02 Grand Am. I could strip the metal off a Lambo in that baby!”
“You think so?” Colin more or less didn’t care; he just wanted to know where he was.
“I know so; want me to prove it to you?”
“No. Not really.”
“Oh,” The man seemed disappointed.
“But I’m sure it’s a real speedster!” Colin spoke enthusiastically, humouring the old man.
“Damned straight it is!”
“So, where exactly are we?” Colin repeated his original question.
“Oh, Port Moody, duh” the old man answered, his mind still pondering the glory of his used Grand Am. Colin’s eyes grew large. Shit. He was in Port Moody. He’d never spent much time there before, but he knew damn well it was a small sleepy suburb of Vancouver, filled with artsy pickle-up-their-ass types and an obscenely bored police force. It was the knowledge of the latter that scared Colin the most. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the blood slippery beneath him.
His eyes darted to the duffle bag on the seat.
“Hey, what’s the best way of getting out of here?” Colin returned his gaze to the old man, trying hard to hide the panic in his voice.
“Well that all depends where you’re trying to go?” The old man arched his eyebrow. Colin cursed himself for not being more collected. He was certain Roger Moore never had problems like this.
“Vancouver?” Colin spoke suddenly. In honesty, Colin didn’t really care where he went; as he didn’t exactly have anywhere to go home to anyway.
“Well, if you head straight down that way,” He pointed to the west, “Take a right before the hill and go straight, just follow it for a while and eventually you’ll find yourself on Hastings.”
Colin only nodded, running the directions over in his head so as not to forget.
“You know, one time, back in the seventies I raced some ‘stang there in my GTO,”
Colin rolled his eyes as the crotchety old man went into great detail describing his race with some ‘young knuckle head’ in a mustang.
The old man stopped suddenly; his attention stolen away by something across the street. His eyes grew large and unblinking. Colin lowered his head and peered through the passenger window. He snickered at what he saw.
Some hooker in neon go-go shorts, a tight tube top and six inch heels was heading straight for them.
“God’s smiling on me tonight,” the old man grinned widely, eyes unwavering. Colin tried hard not to laugh.
“Right, well see you later, thanks for the directions,” Colin waved as he slowly pulled away. The old man only grunted; all his attention focused on the girl now stumbling up to the gas station.
Colin had released the clutch and was about to press on the gas when he heard a loud noise from behind. He looked into the rear view mirror; the girl was waving her arms frantically at him and running towards his silver sports car.
“Oh shit,” Colin swore under his breath, banging his head against the steering wheel. The old man wore an expression of utter disappointment as the girl ran right past him.
“Hey there!” The girl smiled, panting as she hung on the driver window.
“What?” Colin knew that this was the last thing he needed. However, he was shocked at her appearance. She was much younger than any hooker he’d ever seen, and she didn’t look at all like a drug user. She seemed more like a college student coming from a Halloween party than a hooker.
“Wow, no need to be so rude,” She paused a moment, pursing together her bright red lips, “It’s just that I was kinda wondering if you could give me a ride home?”
Colin shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sure you would like a ride, but you see I’m not interested.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her soft round face contorted comically. Colin gave her a ‘as if you don’t know’ look and let it linger for a moment.
“Oh this?!” She took a step back and eyed herself, “It’s not what you think! I’m not a hooker or anything!”
“Really?” Colin questioned, finding the girl’s awkwardness slightly amusing.
“Really!”
“So you just wander around dressed like that in the middle of the night asking strangers for rides because you have nothing better to do?”
“Oh come on! Look I’ve been having a rough couple a days and I live all the way in Vancouver! Please, I really need a ride!” She pleaded.
“Look, just wait it out, I’m sure that old guy back there would love nothing more than to give you a ride home when he finishes his shift.” Colin tried to reason. She was pretty and under other circumstances he might have wanted to get to know her. He corrected himself quickly; she seemed like way too much trouble and more trouble was the last thing he needed.
“That old guy creeps me out! Come on, look I’m not even sure where I am, it’s been a loooong day and I just wanna go home.” The hopelessness in her voice made Colin want to give in, but the blood drenched seat and the duffle bag beside him brought him back to reality.
“Why don’t you just wait for a taxi?”
“Duh! I don’t have money for a taxi!” The girl leaned further into the window making Colin unable to simply drive away.
“Look, you’re not the only one that’s had a rough day alright, please, just go away.”
The girl just wouldn’t take no for an answer, but as she began to beg he looked briefly into the rear view mirror. His heart sank as a Police cruiser slowly rolled into the gas station.
“Fuck! Just get in!” Colin stammered; his words frantic. She squealed with joy as she moved her way around the car to the passenger seat, not noticing the police eyeing them.
“What’s this?” She lifted up the duffle bag as she slid into the passenger seat, “It’s heavy.” Colin ignored her; his heart raced as he carefully pulled out of the gas station.
“So, why the change of heart?” She smiled at first but it quickly faded as she saw the grim look worn on Colin’s face. Colin cursed as he peered into the rear view mirror again and again, the cop pulling out of the gas station after him.
“Wait a sec, is there a cop behind us?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh my god!” She paused, “wait, what does it matter?”
Colin didn’t answer.
“What’s that smell?” She looked Colin up and down, her eyes growing large and her voice shaky at the sight of blood, “Oh my god! Is that blood? What the hell is going on?”
“You are really annoying,” Colin peered at her.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Are you like, a serial killer or something?” She paused a moment, her breaths short and panicked, “Are you gonna rape me?” Her voice grew grave and serious.
“Would you shut up? I’m not a serial killer, or a killer at all, and I am NOT going to rape you. However, it would seem that in a minute or two, the cop, who is more than likely running the plates as we speak, will pull me over and at which point I will more than likely end up going to jail for a very long time so I would really prefer to spend my last few minutes as a free man not listening to you!” Colin panted, now out of breath. The girl looked at Colin in shock, not knowing how to respond.
“Are you always this high strung?”
With that the red and blue flashed and Colin agonizingly pulled the sports car over to the curb.
“So if you’re not a killer or a rapist why are you so worried about the cops?” The girl’s voice was suddenly calm.
“Because I’m drenched in blood and Roger Moore’s dead body is in the trunk.”
“Oh. But you didn’t kill him?”
“No.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“Are you serious?”
“Okay, you make a good point. We’re fucked aren’t we?”
The cop’s flashlight shone through the rear window as he sauntered his way to the car.
“I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“That’s because you’re cute,” She smiled. Before Colin could reply, which he probably didn’t want to have to reply to anyway, the very tall, very ‘police’ looking officer was shining his flashlight in at the two through the driver’s side window.
“License and registration,” His tone was solid and thick as steel and his moustache, thicker. Colin fumbled for the registration in the glove compartment and nervously passed it, along with his driver’s license, to the cop. He studied it intensely.
“It says here this car is licensed to a ‘Roger Moore’?”
“Yes sir, that’s correct.”
“You don’t look like Roger Moore.”
“I’m not sir.”
“Then why are you in his car?”
“He lent it to me.”
“And why would he do that?”
“Uhmm,” Colin stalled for a second, “He’s my Uncle, my dad’s brother, very close those two.” Colin smiled a big goofy smile.
“If he’s your dad’s brother, why don’t you two have the same last name?” The Cop stabbed his beady eyes into Colin’s soul.
“Because he got married?” Colin half asked, half informed.
“Married?”
Colin leaned over to the officer, “yes, to his husband Tom Moore,” Colin whispered, “he likes to keep those things on the down low.” He then winked a ‘you know what I mean’ wink.
“Really? Roger Moore is gay?” The Officer stepped back for a moment taking in the false information. “You wouldn’t be pulling my leg would you?” He darted his flashlight at Colin, the red blood he sat in now visible.
“No sir.”
“Then what is that all over your seat?”
“This?” Colin asked innocently.
“Yes, that.” The cop grinned, feeling as though he had cornered the young adult.
Colin paused; unsure of what to say next.
“Ketchup! I spilled ketchup all over his seat; I’m such a klutz you know!” The girl said before breaking out into an uncontrollable giggle.
“Ketchup?”
“Yeah, ketchup,” Colin grinned; being, for the first time since he’d met her, happy she talked.
“What’s in that duffle bag then?” He pointed to the duffle bag sitting on the girls lap.
“My clothes!” The girl exclaimed loudly.
“Who are you anyway?” The cop pointed his flashlight at the girl.
“I’m his girlfriend obviously!”
“Really, then what’s his name?”
“Pookie Bear!” She didn’t even pause.
The cop shook his head in disbelief, “Is there anything in your trunk you wouldn’t want me to see?”
“Absolutely not!” Colin shouted.
“Really now?”
“Really,” Colin’s heart sank.
“Why so defensive?”
“No, no, I’m not defensive,” Colin’s nerves had officially gotten the best of him.
The cop stood still and tall, his mind working over time to try and figure out Colin’s angle, “Is Roger Moore’s dead body in the trunk?” The question was sudden and unexpected. Trying to figure out how a cop thinks was like trying to figure out how a duck thinks; it just doesn’t make sense.
“No Officer, Roger Moore’s dead body is definitely not in the trunk.” Colin could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead.
The cop bit into his own lip as he peered unconvinced at the two in the sports car.
“Okay then, you two have a good night,” the police officer patted the top of the car as he, much to Colin’s relieved bemusement, turned and walked back to his cruiser.
Colin breathed deeply, thanking god that the Port Moody PD was just as dim as they were bored.
“You’re welcome,” The girl smirked. Colin turned to look at the girl as she undid her pigtails and let her thick black hair fall over her shoulders.
“Thanks?” Colin let out the clutch and, carefully, so as not to gather any more unwanted attention, began to drive down the long street that would, thankfully, lead them out of Port Moody.
“So, Pookie Bear? What’s your real name? Or do you prefer I stick with that?” She rolled down the window, breathing in the fresh air.
“What? No? It’s Colin.”
“Colin? I’m Karen, nice to meet you,” she offered her hand for Colin to shake.
“My hands bloody, just, yes, nice to meet you,” Colin fumbled awkwardly, keeping a close eye on his surroundings, so as not to run into any more surprises.
“Yeah, about that any way?”
“About what?”
“The blood, the body in the trunk…”
“Oh right, look just don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it? I’m still not convinced you’re not a serial killer!”
“Do I look like a serial killer?”
“How would I know? I’ve never met one,” she crossed her arms, “look, just tell me!”
“Why? It’s all very confusing and to be honest I’m still trying to get my head around it.”
“But I really want to know!” she whined.
“What? Are you for real?”
“Please,” her smile was toothy and her eyes begged.
“Okay, okay, fine, Roger Moore died here, and I put his body in the trunk.”
“How did he die?”
“He got shot.”
“Shot? Really? By who?”
“Penguins.”
“Aww, penguins are cute. Wait? Why did penguins shoot Roger Moore?”
“First, penguins are not cute they are a plague on this earth, and second, I have no idea why they shot Roger Moore.”
“And you were with him because he’s your uncle?” She continued digging deeper.
“No.”
“Then how did you end up with his car?”
“I was walking down some hick-ass road out in the bush and he gave me a lift.”
“So he is gay?”
“Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know; just putting two and two together.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s gay.”
“Than why did he pick you up?”
“Because I found that duffle bag in the forest and I guess he wanted it.”
“What’s in here anyway?” She reached down to the unmarked black duffle bag on her lap and unzipped it. Reaching inside her face contorted before giggling as she poked at the contents, “feels kinda like hard Jello.”
“Honestly I have no idea what it is. I thought the same thing.” Colin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, feeling relief as he turned the car onto Barnet Highway, and crossed the Port Moody/Burnaby boundary.
“And you were walking through some forest, picking up duffle bags because?”
“Boy, you sure ask a lot of questions,” Colin rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand so as not to smear blood on his face.
“Come on,” Karen pounded on her own knee with a closed fist, “it’s called ‘getting to know each other’.” Her smile was warm, and Colin couldn’t deny that this girl had charisma.
“Alright, well, I was out there because,” Colin strained to remember as he found himself momentarily forgetful, “I went to a frat party out at UBC with a buddy of mine, and next thing I knew I woke up hung over in a ditch.”
“Wow, you have had a pretty long day,” Karen commented. Colin only nodded.
“What about you? What’s with the outfit?”
“Why? You don’t like it?”
Colin blushed a deep red. “No, Uhm, it just…” He awkwardly searched for the right word, “I kinda thought you were a hooker.”
“I don’t look like a hooker you jerk! I look like a go-go dancer!” Karen said indignantly.
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
“Not even close,” she insisted; upset by the comparison.
“Okay okay, so, why do you look like a go-go dancer?” Colin sighed, feeling obliged to continue.
“Because I am one, or well, was one.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, I just got fired; hence the looking for a free ride because I have no money.”
“Ah,” Colin paused, “and why did you get fired?”
“Some guy tried to cop a feel, so I cracked him one in the unmentionables.”
“Maybe this is a stupid question… but, if you don’t like people trying to cop a feel, then shouldn’t you choose a different line of work?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” She paused her voice suddenly sorrowful as her eyes shifted, staring out into the dark night, “I left home a while back, and well, there’s no going back and I’m kinda homeless and moneyless at the moment.”
Colin laughed. Karen darted her eyes irritably back at him.
“What’s so funny about that?!”
“It just strikes me funny that the both of us, with no money, and no home, end up here inside the same luxury sports car with a strange duffle bag and a dead body in the trunk.”
“Wait, you’re homeless also?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Duno. I’d been crashing at my girlfriends place for a while. But I kinda dumped her.”
“That doesn’t seem very smart?”
“You haven’t met my ex.”
The two sat silently, both feeling as though they ought to keep the conversation going, but neither sure how to. The sports car sped down the road; bullet holes glinting under the moonlight.
“Hey, wait a second?” Colin spoke suddenly. Karen, slightly startled, turned to face him. “If you’re homeless, where am I taking you in Vancouver?”
“Oh, over to my bessie’s place. I’ve been crashing with him for a while.” Colin nodded in understanding, “Why?”
“I dunno, just making sure, I’d feel bad if I had to drop you off at pigeon park or something,” Colin shrugged modestly.
“What? No, no, no… hey wait a sec! You would have dropped me off at Pigeon Park?” Her eyes grew large and her face distorted.
“No?”
“You would have! Jerk!” She punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow!” Colin rubbed his shoulder, “You’re going to give me a bruise you know!”
Karen sat back into her seat crossing her arms, “You deserve it.”
“Yeah, I probably do.”
Chapter Three:
Nothing but a Towel
Due to the narrow streets, lack of parking and anal by-law officers of Vancouver, Colin and Karen were forced to park the bullet riddled Aston Martin several blocks from where Karen’s friend lived.
“You coming?” Karen offered as she opened the door of the car and stepped out.
“Pardon?” Colin tweaked his head, eyebrows arching.
“I asked if you were coming. It’s not like you have anywhere better to go.” She straightened out her skirt.
“I’m sure I’ll find somewhere.”
“Really? Drenched in the blood of a man whose body is still in the trunk?”
“You have a point, but I don’t want to trouble you or your friend.”
“Oh, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, seriously, come in, take a shower and borrow some clothes then head off, it’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do is offer to let me into your friends place, use his shower and borrow his clothes?”
“Oh, give me a break! I’m trying to be nice!” She turned and began to walk down the street; her high heels clacking on the asphalt. Colin paused.
“Hey! Wait!” Colin leapt out of the car and began to follow after her.
“Too late!” She teased, “offer’s gone.”
“Oh whatever,” Colin rolled his eyes, catching up to her. He looked down at the car key in his hand and tossed it away over his shoulder.
“Why’d you do that?” Karen questioned.
“I don’t want anything to do with that car or anything that’s inside of it.”
“Fair enough,” Karen answered.
The sky was dark but still clear, and the street lights buzzed as the two walked up to the old, worn down apartment complex.
“This is it?” Colin asked, eyeing the peeling paint and graffiti on the walls.
“Yup.”
“Well, I’m sure it was nice, at some point in time,” Colin spoke, his face contorted slightly. Karen stopped in front of the entrance; the foggy glass door was cracked and covered in duct-tape.
“Nah, it probably wasn’t,” she laughed, “but it’s not like we can do any better right now.”
“Got me there,” Colin shrugged.
Karen searched her memory before pressing several buttons on the rusted intercom. After a few tries there was an answer.
“Hello?” A voice came through the intercom sounding half asleep.
“Jonas!” Karen half screamed.
“Who is this?”
“Karen, dummy!” Her voice was playful and over powering for the early hour.
“Oh,” the voice took a second to wake up, “what do you want?”
“To come in.”
“Why? I thought you were working out in Coquitlam or something.”
“I was.”
“Then why are you here so late?”
“I got fired.”
“Oh… come on up then.” The intercom went dead and a loud buzz sounded as the door unlocked. Karen clapped her hands together indicating success as she rushed to open the door.
“Well come on,” she motioned to Colin as she held the door open.
“You didn’t even mention that I’m here.”
“You worry too much.”
Colin only shrugged as he followed her in.
As they entered Colin inhaled deeply then nearly vomited. Karen giggled noticing his reaction.
“Don’t mind the smell; it’s just in the hallways.”
“It smells like cigarettes, burnt fish and ass,” Colin coughed, “I should have just found some hobo willing to share an alley.” He was only half kidding.
“Oh shut up,” she laughed.
And he did.
Colin stopped to press the elevator button. It didn’t light up so he pressed it again.
“Uh,” Karen noticed Colin fiddling with the elevator, “you don’t want to take the elevator. Trust me.”
“Ah, no surprise there I guess.” And the two climbed the uneven stairs to the third floor.
Karen knocked loudly on her friend’s apartment door. He answered quickly.
“Shh! don’t be so loud! The guy across the hall is like some grumpy old war vet, and I’m pretty sure he has a gun!” Karen’s friend shooed them inside. His cocoa skin accented his tall wiry frame and his hair was surprisingly well groomed given the hour. “You should have called; I didn’t even have time to do my hair!” He stopped talking upon noticing Colin, “who’s he?”
“I’m Colin, nice to meet you,” He extended his hand, then, remembering it was covered in dried blood, withdrew it. He followed it up with an awkward fake laugh.
“Right… and why are you here?” The friend looked sceptical.
“He gave me a ride all the way from Port Moody and I told him you’d let him take a shower here,” Karen smiled widely at her friend, “come on bessie!”
“You’re really something, why can’t he take a shower at home? And is that blood? Ew! I don’t want blood all over my bathtub!”
“He doesn’t really have a home,” Karen glanced away, speaking softly.
“Yeah,” Colin sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
“Well, aren’t you two peas in a pod!” He shook his head, “Fine, but don’t get my bathtub dirty.”
“Thank you very much, uhmm… what was your name?”
The boy breathed in deeply, preparing for his own introduction.
“Well I’m the grand princess of this beautiful abode of mine, but you can call me Jonas. I guess.” He did a little ballerina spin followed by a curtsey.
“Okay then…” Colin shook his head in disbelief.
“The bathrooms down the hall at the end,” He motioned to Colin’s left, then quickly turned to face Karen, “come on, you seem like you’ve had a rough day; vent honey, vent,” he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the living room.
Colin rubbed his eyes as he walked down the hallway. The ugly brown carpet was uneven under his feet and worn clothes and empty cup-a-noodles were strewn everywhere. Colin grimaced but shrugged it off as he entered the equally messy bathroom.
As he started the shower and the water trickled slowly out of the rusted shower head, he could still hear Karen and Jonas through the thin walls.
After a good half hour and much scrubbing, Colin had finally washed all the blood off of himself. He stepped out of the shower, his body still dripping as he looked for a clean towel. Rummaged through a pile of clothes next to the bath tub he found what looked to be a mostly clean white towel. As promptly as possible he dried himself off, wrapped the towel around his waist and left the bathroom.
As he walked back down the hall towards the living room, Colin thought of just how much he wasn’t looking forward to facing Karen and Jonas in a bath towel, but out of sheer fear of mould, decided against borrowing any of the clothes littered throughout the apartment.
“Whoa! I think I’ve seen a ghost!” Jonas jumped back as Colin entered the room. Karen snickered.
The two were sitting on an old flower-printed couch that looked like it came straight out of a senior’s home. Jonas sat hugging a giant hello-kitty pillow, and Karen looked less hooker-ish in grey sweats and an over sized white t-shirt.
“Ha ha ha,” Colin mock-laughed, “Yes I’m a little pale, get over it.”
“A little?” Karen winked at him. Colin grimaced.
“No really! You practically blend into the towel!” Jonas laughed. Colin rubbed his eyes; the warmth of the shower making him sleepy.
“Do you have clean clothes?” Jonas asked, already knowing the answer.
“What do you think?” Colin placed his hands on his hips, “but, by the looks of it, neither do you,” he eyed the cluttered mess surrounding them all. Karen broke out in laughter.
“For two people without a house or clothes you sure are quite mouthy,” Jonas crossed his arms and crumpled his face.
“He doesn’t mean it,” Karen began, Jonas turned his glare to her, “okay, maybe he does, but still, can he borrow some clothes?”
“Aye aye aye! You two are really something else,” Jonas stood up, tossing the hello kitty pillow to the ground. Colin winced as Jonas added to the mess, Karen seemed un-phased.
“What did I do? He’s the one who doesn’t have clothes!” Karen protested.
“You’re the one who brought him here!” Jonas could only shake his head as he stormed off to his bedroom.
“Thanks!” Colin called after him.
Colin and Karen could hear Jonas grumble to himself as he disappeared down the hall.
“So what’s his deal?” Colin asked in a soft whisper.
“What do you mean?” Karen questioned.
“Well you know, is he?” Colin raised his eyebrows for emphasis.
“Is he what?”
“You know,” Colin clenched his teeth; trying his best to ask about her friends sexuality without asking about her friends sexuality. Karen laughed.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Karen grinned.
“You’re no help,” Colin turned away, imitating frustration.
The two nearly jumped when the door bell rang.
“Who now!?” Jonas yelled from the other room. Colin moved to open the door. “Stay put towel boy!” Jonas yelled as he rounded the hallway to cut Colin off. Colin lifted his hands implying he was backing off.
“It better not be that stoner from 203 asking if I sell weed, because for the last time I don’t!” Jonas struck a diva pose as he turned the doorknob and swung the door open. He stood for a moment; stunned by what he saw.
Colin’s eyes grew large as he looked past Jonas to a gaggle of gun yielding penguins. Leaping forward as fast as he could, he tackled Jonas to the ground.
“What the he-” but Jonas was cut off by the sound of gun fire. His words of confusion and anger turned to girly high pitched screams of fear.
“Shut up!” Colin spat at Jonas who lay curled up beneath him. Colin’s mind raced; he had to find a way out.
Suddenly his thoughts turned to Karen, his eyes darting back to the living room just in time to see Karen simultaneously cursing and chucking Jonas’ hello kitty pillow at the gun toting penguin at the door. Colin looked up to the penguin, who, caught off guard by the flying projectile had momentarily ceased firing.
Colin used it to his advantage, and putting his kick boxing experience to good work, wound his leg back and, as hard as he could, kicked the bird where he assumed its genitals were. He must have guessed right as the penguin keeled over in pain. The large size of the penguin, presumably due to too much American junk food (penguins eat generally healthy food), blocked the doorway creating a barricade between the three inside and the other penguins outside.
Colin jumped up and sprinted back into the living room towards Karen.
“Don’t leave Jonas there!” She yelled; her voice filled with an honest concern. Colin stopped in his tracks, cursed, then spun around on his heels and bounded back towards Jonas as the penguins hurried to get their oversized comrade out of the door way.
“Throw another pillow at them or something!” He yelled back at Karen. “Hurry! Get up!” Colin tried in vain to pry Jonas off the ground. Finally a kick to the gut got Jonas out of fetal position and to his feet.
“Ow! Why’d you kick me?” He whined.
The two sprinted into the living room, where Karen had since tipped over the couch, creating temporary cover. Colin and Jonas jumped behind their newly made barrier just as bullets began to fly again.
“Why are there penguins in my apartment shooting at us!?” Jonas screamed over the gunfire, “You have the wrong place! You can go!” Jonas yelled as loud as he could to their attackers.
“Uh, actually Jonas, I think they’re here because of me…” Colin trailed off.
“What!?”
“Yeah, my bad.”
“I officially hate you!” Jonas was beginning to break down.
“Sorry… I still like you…” The three could feel the heat of the bullets pounding into the couch at they’re back.
“You do?” Jonas perked up at the compliment.
“Sure, why not,” Colin shrugged.
“I’d hate to interrupt your little love in here,” Karen butt in, “but uh, what are we going to do about the penguins shooting at us?”
Suddenly the gunfire stopped, and the three looked at each other: confused. Colin peeked over the top of the sofa. A single penguin, smaller with spiky yellow hair on top, came forward, several meters from the couch.
“Penguin, penguin penguin penguin penguin!” The pint sized bird announced in its sinister penguin-y language.
“What?” Karen said, confounded by the absurd words.
“Don’t look at me!” Colin held out his hands, “I don’t speak penguin, I hate the bastards.”
“Didn’t you take penguin in school Jonas?” Karen looked to her friend.
“Yeah, I did,” he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.
“Well, what did they say?” Colin pushed on.
“I don’t know!” He started to tear up.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I was busy painting my toe nails!” The tears started to flow.
“Oh… my… god… we are going to die,” Colin sunk his head into his lap.
“Penguin, penguin penguin penguin penguin PENGUIN!” The penguin yelled again, its voice growing tense and impatient.
“I’m going to die a virgin! A beautiful, beautiful virgin!” Jonas yelled out,
his tears showering down onto the other two. Colin leaned away from the shedding tears, frowning.
“Oh for the love of god,” Karen looked around the room for anything she could throw at the penguin. A shiny silver object caught her eye. She reached forward, grabbed a toaster half hidden by a pile of week old laundry, turned around and threw it with all her might at the lone penguin. Colin winced as he heard the toaster smack the penguin in the head, and the cry of pain that followed.
“What the hell was that?” He questioned Karen who had dropped back down behind the relative safety of the sofa.
“I dunno; I had to do something.”
“Really? A toaster though?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Karen earnestly sought Colin’s input while Jonas rocked himself gently back and forth; his arms wrapped around his curled up knees. As the curses of their assailants grew faint, the waddle of the others grew nearer.
“Shit, I think they’re coming in for the kill,” Karen whispered. Colin sighed.
“Wait! I have an idea!” Colin snapped his fingers.
Karen leaned closer to him, listening intently.
“Are you wearing a bra?”
“What?” Karen leaned back away from Colin, “I know we’re gonna die and all, but now is really not the time.”
“No seriously, are you wearing a bra?” Colin pressed.
“Ok, no, as a matter of fact… I am not,” she blushed slightly.
“Good!” His exclamation caught her off guard, “Flash them!”
“WHAT!?”
“Yeah yeah, everyone knows penguin’s love Asian girls!”
“I’ve never heard that!”
“Oh come on, everyone loves Asian girls.”
“Fine,” she paused a moment, slightly flattered, “but you’d better not look!”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me!” She whined.
“We are going to die in like 10 seconds! Flash them already!”
“Fine! But if you’re just doing this to get a look at my boobs before you die I’m gonna track you down in heaven and whoop your ass!” And with that she stood up. The four approaching penguins were closer than she had expected when she lifted her over sized t-shirt up to her shoulders and smiled awkwardly.
The enemy birds stopped at the sight of Karen’s breasts and in a dazed stupor, dropped their weapons to the ground.
Colin knew he only had a moment to react. He leapt high over the couch, drop kicking the penguin closest to him while trying his best to get a look at Karen’s chest in the process.
Successfully sneaking a peek at his new friend’s bare upper half, Colin quickly snapped back to the situation at hand, the bath towel he wore billowing as he snatched the semi-automatic gun that the penguin had dropped on the ground.
Karen, now realizing what Colin had planned, dropped back behind the couch before the gunfire started. Colin pulled the trigger as fast as he could; but seeing as he’d never before fired a gun, his aim wasn’t quite as good as he had hoped.
“Oh shit…” Colin’s eyes grew wide with the realization that he was pretty much screwed. The penguins, who seconds ago had been flinching, awaiting death, now chuckled an evil penguin chuckle.
It was now do or die for Colin, who acting as quickly as he could threw the gun at the closest attacker. Luckily for him, he was a much better thrower than a shooter, and the still very hot barrel of the gun hit the penguin right between the eyes.
Recognizing that he again had an invaluable opportunity he bolted towards the others, kicking one in the head on the way to tackling the other two. The small emperor penguin who moments earlier had been struck in the head with a toaster returned to the fight with vivacious energy as he charged at Colin; his Colt 45 revolver high in the air.
Pummelling the two beneath him into submission Colin’s peripherals picked up on the emperor penguin that was steadily rushing him. Being incredibly frightened by the gun in the penguins hand Colin reached down and grabbed the beaten body of another. His grip was fairly weak but there was no time; tensing his muscles he lifted the small bird and swung it around once before launching it at the gun toting beast. Following his impressive throw, he leapt up, ran over and kicked both penguins till they lay unconscious.
He breathed in deeply; desperately trying to catch his breath as he stood, in nothing but a bath towel amidst the bruised beaten bodies of a bunch of pint sized black and white birds.
“What was that?” Karen stood up from behind the couch.
“I don’t know. Give me a break! I’ve never shot a gun before…” He shrugged, trying to reason his failed attempt at shooting a gun.
“You looked!” She placed her hands on her hips.
“What?!”
“You promised you wouldn’t look, but you did!”
“I didn’t look!” Colin lied.
“Yes you did! I saw you!”
“How could I have looked?! I was busy saving our lives!”
“Oh sure, now you’re taking all the credit, I’m the one that had to expose myself!”
“Didn’t you use to be a stripper anyway?!”
“Go-go dancer!”
“What’s the difference!?”
“Whatever,” She crossed her arms, “Did you at least enjoy the show?” Karen flashed a sly smile, her demeanour brightening.
“Yeah,” Colin grinned stupidly.
Karen shook her head; blushing a vibrant red.
“Uh, we should probably get going,” Colin pointed to the open door.
Karen grabbed Jonas by the arm, “Stop being such a baby, we gotta go!”
“What have you guys done to my place?” His tear blurred eyes were wide with shock at the unconscious penguins lying over the floor.
“You’ll get over it,” Karen assured him as she followed Colin out of the apartment.
“Where are we going anyways?” Karen called after Colin. But Colin was too far ahead, leaping down the grungy stairwell and out the front entrance. She tried her best to keep up, but Jonas, still snivelling and griping weighed her down.
“Shit!” Colin yelled out as he reached the bullet riddled Aston Martin.
“What?”
“I threw the keys away, remember!”
“Yeah, that was probably not such a good idea,” Karen bit at her lip.
“Spread out, we need to find those keys!” Colin ordered, his nerves beginning to get the best of him.
“I let you take a shower, you steal my towel, lead a bunch of angry killer penguins to my apartment, beat up said penguins, ruin my place and now you’re ordering me around?” Jonas said indignantly, “you could at least say please.”
“Please,” Colin smiled a fake smile. The three spread out, searching for the keys.
“May I ask why penguins are trying to kill us?” Jonas looked across the road to Colin after finally regaining some composure.
“I’m not really sure,” Colin was also far calmer, his blood finally settling and his adrenaline subsiding.
“Ah.”
“This is pretty much how my life has been going lately,” Colin admitted.
“And you had to drag us into it?”
“Yeah, sorry about that…” Colin stood up, trying to make sense of everything.
“I found it!” Karen yelped as she too stood up, her arms triumphantly rising in the air, the car keys grasped in her fingers.
“Thank god!” Colin exhaled deeply as Karen tossed the keys to him. The three piled into the two seat car; Colin in the driver seat, Karen in the passenger seat with Jonas on her lap and the black duffle bag on his.
“What’s this?” Jonas eyed the duffle bag.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what the penguins are after.”
“But you don’t know why or what it is?”
“Nope.”
“Boy you sure are informed,” Jonas said sarcastically, “And what’s that smell?”
“Roger Moore,” Karen answered before Colin could.
“What? How? Where is he?”
“In the trunk,” Karen and Colin answered in unison.
“Wow, you guys are messed up,” Jonas stared worriedly out the window as Colin started the car and drove off down the street.
“Where are we going anyways?” Karen asked as Colin took a quick turn.
“To see Paul.”
“Who’s Paul?” Both Karen and Jonas looked at Colin.
“The one who got me into this mess in the first place.”