Drum made a quick detour to the men’s room. If video games had taught him anything, it was that enemies become more difficult to defeat the further you progress. Now just three foes stood between him and the final boss, Randy Van Funk, and he didn’t want to face them with the added pressure of a full bladder. He opened the restroom door, and there, popping a pimple in the mirror, was Dante Schnapps, mandolin player for Fluorescent Android. Schnapps crouched, and then sprang into a spin-kick that caught Drum on the chin and knocked him down. Though he was dazed, he managed to cover up with his forearms while Schnapps rained down a flurry of follow-up punches. Seizing the briefest of opportunities between strikes, Drum lashed out with a head butt. Schnapps reeled back onto the floor, his eyes watering in response to an irreparably broken nose. Drum got to his feet and gathered his senses.
“Damn it!” Schnapps groaned as he touched his nose to check the damage. “Aargh! You broke it.” He stood up, groggy, with blood cascading down his face onto his shirt. “Andre! What the hell are you doing? Get out here and help!”
Drum looked and noticed one of the cubicles was occupied.
A stressed voice answered from within, “Hang on… hnnn… I’m doing a poo. Oh man, it’s like concrete.”
It was Fluorescent Android’s trombonist, Andre Smile.
“I don’t care,” growled Schnapps. “Get out here and help me kill Drum Drummond.”
“Drummond?” said Smile. “Oh crap, wait a minute. Hnnn! I can’t stop now. Rrrr… Jeez Louise, I feel like I’m pushing out an Easter Island head.”
Schnapps flicked open a butterfly knife and waved it expertly in front of him. Drum took out the dagger he had recently inherited from Ramesh Cohen. The two eyed each other.
There was a mighty strain behind the toilet door, and then a loud plop, with a clunk as though a cricket ball had struck the porcelain. Drum looked at the cubicle quizzically.
“Ahh… sweet relief,” sighed Smile. “I’m pretty sure my bum is bleeding though.”
Schnapps slashed at Drum, slicing his hand and forcing him to drop his blade. Drum backed up against the wall. Schnapps gave a bloodstained grin.
“I’ve got you now, Drummond.”
Drum ripped a condom vending machine of the wall and hurled it at Schnapps, hitting him in the face. He screamed and covered his nose with his hands. Drum ran up and kicked him in the groin as though trying to launch him into orbit. Schnapps dropped to the floor, a shrieking, whimpering, bloody mess. Drum kicked open the cubicle door hiding Andre Smile. He was a pathetic sight: sweaty, exhausted and cowering pants-down on a reeking toilet. Drum reached down and removed the grenade from Smile’s combat vest, turned and headed for the exit.
“P… P… Please,” said Smile. “It wasn’t our idea—it was Randy. He was jealous of you guys. I was just following orders.”
Drum opened the door then paused. He removed the grenade pin with his teeth and spat it out.
Smile trembled and shook his head. “Please…”
“Tough sh**, Andre,” said Drum, and he rolled the grenade across the floor toward the two pirates. He closed the door and walked away.
© 2019 MILES VENISON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED