Oh lord, why did I let Mello drag me to the fairgrounds. Why? Better question—why did I give Mello caffeine?
Oh, in case you're wondering, I'm currently hiding in the a very tight, uncomfortable plastic dinosaur, underneath one of the seats in it. Apparently, the petting zoo was a sideshow of a carnival passing through. But that doesn't matter. What matters is WHY THE FUCK AM I HIDING IN A PLASTIC DINOSAUR WHILE MELLO RIDES AROUND OUTSIDE ON A HORSE. I have no idea where Near is. I have no idea where the Chupacabra is. This was a terrible idea. And what the FUCK was I thinking when I gave Mello coffee?
Okay, just in case I end up shot because of this, Ramona, THIS is how I died. Er, will die. Something like that; I think I'll just try not to die. Yeah, living sounds good.
But anyway. We got here, and Mello handed out weapons. The place was shut down due to the animal deaths, but there were still guards here and there. Near didn't want a gun, so he took a flare gun instead—so one of us can save him if he gets in trouble—but Mello and I decided to go in packing. Two guns for him, plus extra ammo. And I'm pretty sure I saw him slip something that looked like an explosive device into his pocket when he thought I wasn't looking. I took my usual gun, the one he always loans me. I forget what kind it is, but it's nice and shoots pretty accurately. I don't really care what it is at this point; what I do care about is that I only have one bullet left. That does not sit well with me.
Especially with all this fucking CHAOS. WHY IS MY LIFE SO INSANE. UGH I SWEAR, MELLO, IF YOU GET ME KILLED…
Did I mention why I'm being hunted down by a posse of cops right now? Oh, I didn't? Well, I guess I should tell you then. You know, before I DIE.
Arrrgh. All we were doing was snooping around all stealthily and shit, looking at all the cute little animals and searching for paw prints, and I was petting this cute little goat, when BAM. Fucking out of nowhere, just suddenly CHUPACABRA. That fucker is HUGE. It's like, as big as a German shepherd, only with bigass teeth. And this freaky ridge of really stiff fur on its back like a hyena that really does look like spikes. And it's all furry on top with these icky scaly legs, and THREE TOED FEET! No one said anything about three toes! What the hell! So it lunges at us, trying to get past us to Near—I guess he's tasty or something—and of course, Mello's shouting and screaming obscenities and I'm over there having a meltdown because WHY JESUS IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME, RIGHT NOW WHEN I NEED PEACE, and then we both start shooting but it doesn't even faze the damned thing, so Mello grabs my hand and I grab Near and we all start running as fast as we can. I figured we'd do the smart thing and high-tail it back to the car for either an escape or more ammo, but then Mello gets this idea in his head, grabs my arm and yanks me into this tent we were running past. A pony ride tent. PONIES. So of course, I was like, "Mello, what the fuck are you doing?" But he didn't answer—instead, he STOLE A FUCKING HORSE. Or maybe it's just a large pony. Either way, he gets on it, GRABS ME, pulls ME on the fucking horse behind him, scares the thing half to death until it starts running, and then SETS OUT AFTER THE CHUPACABRA, CHASING IT ON A FUCKING PONY, SHOOTING AT IT WITH BOTH GUNS AT ONCE AND SCREAMING "DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER DIE." He wasn't even steering, nope, he left that part up to me. So I was wrapped around Mello's waist, clinging to the reins with one hand and trying to shoot with the other.
And this, kids, is why the only caffeine Mello should EVER have, should only EVER be contained in chocolate.
I mean, in better circumstances it could have been fun. Me and Mello on a pony. It wasn't so bad having to reach around him—I discovered today that Mello's hair is very soft when it smacks against your face, and it smells like Axe. Not a bad smell.
You know, after I got past the smell of the HORSE.
Anyway, that was all fine and well, until we turned a corner. A very abrupt corner that I did not see coming, and which consequently caused me to fall off the horse. That's when I looked back to find Near, and instead found that the park guards were chasing us, and that they had called the police, and the POLICE were chasing us too. Fun, fun. Everything after that was a shitfuck of me running around like my ass was on fire with bullets whizzing past my ears, Mello cackling in the distance while the Chupacabra ripped apart tents, and the sound of gunfire. I didn't even get the time to think "goggles time." Finally I lost them and dove in here. So here I am. One bullet left and utterly fucked. But I still have to move soon—the rides will be the first place they'll look for me.
Goddamn it, I still have to pee. Why is it that my bladder has to wait until the most inconvenient moments before telling me it's full?
Okay Matt. You can do this. You have to help Mello, and you have to find Near. For the sake of my own dignity, I will not let the last time I pee be when I'm shot.
There you go, Matt, positive thinking.
Oh god, I'm talking in third person. Maybe I should just let them shoot me.
Jesus help me. I'm gonna run for it again.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Okay. Well, obviously I'm alive. That's a plus. I seem to be intact. That's better than I expected.
Especially considering how everything ended. Whew.
I'll explain, cause I know you're just dying to see how this crazy delusion ends…
I ran out of my hiding spot and was immediately seen by at least five guards and policemen, who all started running at me, waving their guns around like idiots. I turned to run away, but just like before, BAM, Chupacabra, running towards me. And Mello behind it. Shooting at the Chupacabra. So there were bullets flying EVERYWHERE around me. Mello finally saw me and stopped shooting, and stopped just long enough for me to climb back on that blasted horse, and it all started up again. Fucking nuts. Briefly, I saw Near as we rode past, hidden amongst a display of plushies—where he looked more pleased with his surroundings than concerned for our safety—but there was no time to focus on him. At least he was safe, whereas we were most definitely not.
Mello solved the Chupacabra problem, at least. After I wasted my last bullet on a faulty shot, and he ran out of ammo, he did the only logical thing left.
He took the grenade out of his pocket, pulled the pin, and chucked it right into the Chupacabra's path. BAM. No more Chupacabra.
THANK FUCKING GOD FOR THAT.
After that the only problem was getting out of there. We were both covered in chunks of guts, and I really need a shower, but aside from that, the pony was tired out, and those cops were not happy. Finally, Mello did the smart thing and got off the horse, and I happily followed suit. We tore out of there as fast as we could—I ended up having to carry Near cause he was too damn slow—and we made it back to Mello's Hummer before the cops did. I think a few bullets bounced off us while we peeled out.
So now I'm back here, in Mello's Hummer, exhausted and happy to be alive. I think even Near realized how insane that was, because he stopped complaining about the music and is now sitting quietly in the backseat, clutching a large, goofy looking pink dragon plushie.
(Funny thing about dragons. They are most definitely not pink, or goofy looking. Trust me, I know.)
Hey Mello, do you think they saw your license plate? They were pretty close behind us, and it is broad daylight…
What do you mean fake license plate?
Oh what the fuck. I don't want to know why he has a fake license plate. I've already been in way too far over my head these last few days, and I'm too worn out to ask questions. Just let my life go back to being simple, is that too much to ask?
OH YES, SEVEN ELEVEN. BATHROOMS, I LOVE YOU.
Things seem to be calming down. This is good. Very good. We're taking Near back to his relatives—though Mello bought him some new clothes at Walmart, so he wouldn't have to go home all bloody and dirty. He promised to lie about where he'd been, and assured me that I'd have five hundred bucks in an envelope tomorrow morning.
He'd better follow through or I'll hunt him down to wherever it is that he comes from. I did not just risk my life for nothing, brat. GIVE ME MONEYS, I WANT TO EAT. I don't need much, just enough to pay the electricity bill, the internet bill, and maybe get me a take-out taco.
Well, Near's gone now. We dropped him off about a block from where he'd been staying. It was the classic picture of suburbia, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. I almost feel bad for him. But at least I get to go home now, get a nice shower, relax…play some of that new game I got, Lollipop Chainsaw...Ah, sounds so good right now.
Oh, Mello, look, drive through! Mello, where are you going…but…drive through…I wanted those Big Macs…
What? You're taking me to your house? For dinner?
How…nice of you. Are you sure? Cool. Change of plans. No video games, but my belly will be happy. That's good enough for me.
But he'd still better let me use his shower. I don't think I can eat with guts all over me.
Oh my gosh this couch is comfy. My couch is a cheap, tattered one I found for sale by the side of the road. Mello's couch is suede leather and the whole thing is squishy as a pillow. I'd forgotten how much I love this couch. Hell, I'd forgotten how much I love being at Mello's house. It's so nice here.
His house is one of those newer styles, all modern and space-agey with pointy angles on the roof and big windows. It's really cozy inside, even though it's big—there's red carpets and black furniture, grey walls and dark yellow trim. It's pretty much the opposite of my barren, cold little flat with nothing but a couch, a TV and a table—he has everything, even a personal bar in the kitchen stocked with all sorts of liquor.
Anyway, the only reason I'm writing is because Mello's in the shower right now. I already took one (a long one, to get all the gore off) and now I have on the most casual things of Mello's I could find. He doesn't seem to have but one long sleeved shirt, which I am now wearing. No way would I fit into one of his tiny vests, besides, I don't have the abs to pull that off. His jeans are a little tight on me, but I think his jeans are a little tight on him too, he likes it that way. I can deal with it.
I think I'll have a look around. With all these rooms, one of them probably has something interesting.
Room one: not actually a room, but a huge walk in closet. Wow, I should have guessed.
Room two: spare bedroom. Oh look, Mello has a cat too! Aww, he's cute, a little black cat with yellow eyes. Is this who Mello is talking about when he mentions his friend named Skinner? I wanna pet him, I hope he's friendly. Aw, he hid under the bed. Come back, Skinner, LET ME LOVE YOU. Stupid skittish cat.
Room three: library. I wonder if Mello still reads nothing but crime novels. I think I'll take a look around. Mysteries…westerns? Mello likes westerns? Howdy, partner. Oh look, here's some mythology. Cool. I wonder if that's my influence…
Room three: locked? Well, I can fix that. There, now it's unlocked. What's he hiding...? Boxes? What's in these?
Holy shit. Mello, what the hell is this? This is bad. Even I know this is bad. No one should have an entire room full of boxes that are full of guns. I've got to get out of this room. If Mello catches me here, I'm dead.
Not really dead, but he'll be pissed. What is going on with him? I don't want to pry into his life, I mean, he's never done anything but help me, but now I'm worried. Mello's not a mobster, there's no way Ramona could be right. That would be ridiculous. But...unlimited money…fake license plate…room full of guns…
Mello, you'd better be careful. If you get killed, I…
OH SHIT MELLO'S COMING AND I'M STILL IN THE ROOM AND THE DOORS OPEN GODDAMNIT—
A/N: To make up for the last chapter being so short, I made this one a little longer. Oh, and don't worry guys, that won't be the last we see of Near. He's a pest, so he'll be back eventually. :) Please review?