Kenan and Kel: Anacondas of the Night
It was getting late. "Ay Kenan! We better get home soon! Chicago gets dangerous after dark!" Kel called out to his friend. The boys spent their Saturday at the park, relaxed in the summer heat. Just a month after high school graduation, life had lost its spark. Gone were the wild and wacky situations they previously found themselves on a daily basis, bringing relief and boredom. Everything was safe. They could hardly keep up a conversation together, but their bond remained strong. Words were very unnecessary. Kenan and Kel exchanged energy with each other to survive. "Kel, man, let's head out." They lifted themselves from the grass and started their trek home.
Kenan pulled a flask from his shirt pocket and took a mouthful of cheap vodka. "Kenan, man, you should really stop drinkin' man I hear that's bad for your liver!" Kel had been nervous ever since Kenan started drinking. "Damnit Kel, I need it. Besides, you probably messed your insides up from all that orange soda worse than I ever could with my party liquor."
"But I LOOOVE orange soda!"
"And I love booze, so shut up, man."
They carried on in silence. The night was quiet. No crickets, no cars, just wind rustling the leaves. Then, soft voices. Bushes shaking. "K-Kenan...? I hear something..." But Kenan ignored it all. Apathy kept him sane. "Kenan, man, I'm really worried..." Two figures lunged out of the bushes and pinned Kenan and Kel to the concrete.
"Well, well, well, fellas," a third figure emerged, standing over them, dragging on a cigarette. "Looks like we caught ourselves a coupla' coons. Mighty big ones too." Kenan knew these men. They went to school together, Aryan brotherhood types. They kept to their own back in school, never started trouble. He saw his captor's face. His name was Skip. The guy on Kel was Chad, and their apparent leader was Bucky. "What should we do with them?" asked Chad. Bucky blew smoke in Kenan's face. "We show 'em a good time." Skip and Chad chortled like baboons. They struck their captives until they were unconscious.
When Kel came to, he couldn't move. He drowsily gazed upon the scene. Tied to a tree, Kenan tied to the one next to him. Both shirtless, cold. Chad in his face. "Rise and shine, boy," he sneered, cracking his knuckles. "We're gonna have some fun." Bucky stepped from the shadows, the stub of a dying Marlboro between his lips. He went over to Kenan and put the glowing head of the cigarette out on his nipple. Kenan awoke, yelling in intense agony. "Ain't no use in hollerin', we in the deep woods now," said Bucky, "Let's go get the power tools, fellas." Skip came out from behind a tree in gimp gear and followed the others back into the shadows.
Kenan looked to the dirt. This was real, he couldn't deny it. He only wished it would end soon. Kel's sniffling was quiet, but still audible. "K-K-K-.Kenan...I'm scared..." he whispered. Distracted by his thoughts, Kenan couldn't listen. After all we been through, we're going out with a whimper in the middle of the woods? We're gonna suffer, we're gonna hurt, and thank God when it's all over. He felt the thin ropes on his wrists behind the tree, and the thick one on his stomach. Sucking in his gut, he dropped a little, but did little good with his arms tied around the tree. But it gave him a glimmer of hope and motivation. He shifted up and down, a joint effort between moving his arms, inhaling, and exhaling. The combination of his weight and the friction on the tree bark wore the rope on his hands, and he snapped them free.
He freed himself and went to Kel. "Keep quiet man, be cool," he whispered. Their hearts jumped up and down, adrenaline ran screaming through their veins, fear ate their brains. As soon as Kel dropped to the ground, they ran. The three Aryans returned, drills and chainsaws in hand, but saw two piles of rope, and their entertainment for the night was missing. "Looks like we on a coon hunt, boys," snarled Bucky. Kenan's heavy foot prints in the mud gave them a direction to follow. "Chad, take the left, Skip take the right." They went their separate ways and charged after Kenan and Kel.
"Kel...let's stop..." Kenan was exhausted. They stopped together, looking around nervously. "Y'think we might be safe now, Kenan?? We been runnin' for like, an hour." Kel sat next to his fellow fugitive. Kenan dug into his pockets for his cell phone, but only felt lint. "We can't keep runnin', Kel. We have no idea where we are, and they can't be too far behind, y'know. We gotta...get them first..." Kel's face turned confused. "Kenan, what you mean we get them?? They'll kill us! Kenan?" Kenan covered his bright green shorts with mud. He gave a handful of mud to Kel and said, "Cover all the bright colors on your jeans, maybe throw some grass or somethin' on it, we gotta camouflage, go commando, man." Kel put on an intricate covering of mud and dead leaves on himself. Leaves crunched and bushes swayed about 50 yards behind them. They held their breaths. Chad came into view, but he hadn't seen them.
Kenan and Kel crawled on their stomachs, inching towards Chad. They picked up fist sized rocks to aid them in their catch. They were wild animals, panthers, and their survival was in question. They were about to do something about that. They stopped, five feet apart. Chad was in striking distance. They sprung up in silence, Kenan busted Chad's ribs, and Kel turned the skull to pulp. Chad fell. Two to go.
"Ay Kenan, let's take his drill and chansaw!" Kel dropped his bloody rock and lifted the chainsaw. "Kel, you dummy! That'd make too much noise! We need somethin' better though..." Kenan scratched his head and looked at the body. "Gimme that chainsaw, Kel." Kel handed over the tool and Kenan began to manually saw Chad's legs off. The heavy scent of hot blood crawled into their nostrils. Kel gagged. He nearly puked when Kenan started to strip Chad's flesh off of his thigh bones. "I bet the femurs could make good clubs, Kel." Kenan unflinchingly handed his best friend the left femur of the man they just murdered.
Through the woods they continued to hunt. Kenan and Kel, dirtied, bloodied, bone clubs in hand. Savage, frightened cavemen, ready to kill. Quickly, silently they stalked. They stopped. They saw Skip. Skip saw them. Skip's heart skipped a beat. Were these men really Kenan and Kel? How could he fight them. He got a hold of himself, remembering the electric hedge clipper in his hands. He had the upper hand. One against two, but he could do it. Just like in the movies. But before he knew it, he was on the ground, fetal position, pain smothered his body. He could smell old blood. Then fresh blood. He thought of his childhood. He was dead. Kenan stood and screamed at the air. "C'mon, slappy, let's get BUCKY!"
Bucky heard Kenan's war cry. "Dumb idiot...gonna be a dead idiot..." He revved his chainsaw, the engine shook the forest. The sound was just up ahead. Hopefully, Skip and Chad heard it too and they could circle the lard-ass and the bony freak. Something shined in the pale moon light. It was Skip's latex gimp outfit, coated in blood. Bucky held his nose and gagged. He looked at his feet, and saw a white club thwack him in the stomach. He fell on his back, dropping his weapon, the wind knocked out of him. He helplessly stared at the sky, eyes wide in panic. His former prisoners stood over his body. Kenan dropped his bone and picked up the hedge clippers. Kel watched the shaking points of the blade slowly dip through the air, towards Bucky's chest. Kenan took his time opening up their catch, gutting it like a deer. Blood splashed at their shoes. Kel stared at his filthy new Nikes and exclaimed:
"AWWWWW HERE IT GOES!!"