#pistol enemies can eat a bag of dicks though

[graglesnov]

Finished Yakuza 0 yesterday. 80 hours, 70% completion. One of my favorite fishing games.

I rate it 5 Kuze beatdowns out of 5.

[ecotone99]

[MF]The Further Adventures of Aydan & Weebs - 14. Trains PT 4

In her life, never had The Queen been more caught out, or felt more exposed than in that moment, “Aydan, please!”

Aydan considered his friend, “All right, well ma’am, what you’ve failed to understand is that you need to know the people on the other side of the table before you start to negotiate and threaten them; and by ‘knowing’ I don’t mean just their names and relatives and shit like that, I mean knowing the sort of person you’re going to be trying to take by the short and curlies.

I don’t know what to say to ya, lady, I mean, it seems like a pretty basic blunder on your part no expect that someone, sooner or later, wasn’t going to be the sort of asshole that would bash an old crone in the beezer.”

“You should see your fucking face right now.” Weebs smiled down at her.

“Look…” The Queen began to address Weebs.

“Shut up.” Weebs just said, rude, like that.

“Wut?” The Queen asked.

“Sh-Shut up.” Again, Weebs stepped on the woman’s words.

“All right man, c’mon, we have stuff to do here.” Aydan, despite himself.

Weebs took a step back, smiled at his friend. “Sorry, she was just being such a dick to me, Aydan.”

“Yeah, I saw that. Cant’ believe you didn’t do it sooner, I almost did a few times,” Aydan returned his focus to the queen. “Now, your highness, I’m going to offer you a deal, and it’s up to you how things play out from there.”

Weebs pulled back a fist, and inhaled audibly through an ‘o’ that his lips made.

“Now, one punch from Weebs there should suffice to send you into the next life, but you don’t want that, and neither do I. So, instead, the two of us are going to load you on the train and send you on your way. We’ll never speak a word of this to anyone, and you can either choose to believe me on that one or not. We don’t need to make things nasty, we’re all adults. You can even call that the favor you owe me for letting you go.”

The Queen, realizing the dire straits she was in, for as much as she acted the part of someone that could eat some solid abuse the plain truth was that she couldn’t. Once, she’d caught a hand in spoke of her wheel and it went almost a full rotation before her significantly damaged hand would prove a sufficient enough hindrance, woven into the spokes as it was, to jam the wheel entirely. It had taken four and a half years of recovery for her to get back to where she’d been before the injury. Absent-mindedly, she clenched her fist, the same one, and felt how brittle.

The Queen looked at the fist of Weebs', then at Aydan, “You are truly a wicked person aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and she’d smiled when she hadn’t asked it, but the queen let the two guys load her up on the train. They brought her up front into the main engine and secured her there, so she wouldn’t roll around. Satisfied, Aydan looked to the engineer “Mr Sulu, engage.”

“Sulu wasn’t the navigator, “ the engineer shot back as though he’d heard this sort of shit for the last time.

Weebs struck a straight blow across the jaw of the man from beside him, put him down and out. Without breaking pace he turned to the only other person in the train engine compartment, this dude who’d just been shoveling coal in the background there, and tried to keep the energy up, “My friend said ‘Engage, Cthuluhu’!”

That guy didn’t need to be told twice.

As the train began to roll, the pair of great pals dropped back to terra firma. “Let’s go get my buddy,” Aydan said. “Keep and eye on the Grafiti Kids though.” That was just good advice.

“Naw, we don’t have anything to fear here. Fat junkies are harmless.” Weebs had sussed this out prior to emerging from the linens; had, in fact, let this inform much of his behavior on the platform.

As Weebs spoke the words, Aydan saw that it was so. Everywhere, the Grafitti Kids, junkies all, laze about in dazes. Some were painting, sort of, autonomically as though victims of their more artisanal qualities. “They’re just lazing about,” Aydan was in disbelief "like cats in sunbeams."

“It’s cuz they’re well fed, and they have lots of drugs. They don’t need anything else.” Weebs was surveying the scene, “It’s all they’ve ever wanted or needed, legalized drugs. I bet there isn’t any crime at all in this world; I mean, except for drug dealing and vandalism.” Weebs could see that he’d sullied paradise, these planes were never meant for men like him.

Aydan looked up and down the train platform, “Wonder where they have ‘im stashed,” all he saw were Graffiti kids sitting about, some were looking their way, but none seemed inclined to do anything..like, at all.

“How big a lead did you say your buddy Kev had on you?” Weebs asked.

“I didn’t say, but My Buddy Kev had maybe a day on me.” Then, wondering why his friend Weebs would be thinking that, Aydan asked “Why?”

“Well, that could be him in there.” Weebs pointed to the far end of the platform.

Aydan turned in the direction indicated and saw there, what appeared to be, a mail bag. “That’s a mail bag, man.”

Weebs was already walking, taking up the canvas sack he set to untying the rope fastened there, he wasn’t too far along on the task when, forced from the inside, fingers! Fingers! thrust up and out, seeking purchase on Weebs’ throat, who leaned back to avoid them and was successful for the most part, though he had trouble hanging onto the bag when the arms and then arms of a man started to follow the path set by the maniac hands. On the verge of being overwhelmed, Weebs gave a half chuckle then set to shoving the whole mess back into the canvas bag and retied the rope with much effort spent. Bent over, panting, Weebs then straightened and, setting his hands on either side of his belly, gave one of those great big jolly laughs that only Santa’s in black and white cartoons made in the thirties can laugh.

“Holy shit, that scared me!” Weebs practically yelled, and laughed some more.

Aydan, shook his head, then addressed the canvas bag “Um, hey fuckhead, it’s a canvas fucking bag, so there was no way you thought that was the queen or one of her stupid fat junkies…” there was more but Aydan was interrupted.

A plaintive, but indignant “Hey!” had risen into the air about the quiet train platform.

Weebs, already on guard, his gun in his hand, was tracking everyone on the platform. His eyes zeroed in, targeting the men, the women, the children; though nothing further came and none gave any indication of having been the originator of the cry so Weebs put his pistol back to bed still hungry.

“Thank you, Weebs,” Aydan went back to addressing the canvas mail duffle “As I was saying, you can clearly hear that we aren’t your enemies so how about you not trying to kill us for rescuing you?” Aydan took a step back, content to let Weebs finish what he’d started.

“Thank you, Aydan.” This time, the maniac hands were more like helping hands and slowly helped Weebs untie the rope.

An instant later, ‘My Buddy Kev’ stood on the platform; he wore only a pair of tan hip shorts with dual navy blue lines down the side, a chiseled though not bulky physique, and the same look in his eyes that mother’s get when their children touch ‘you know goddam well what you touched’.

Weebs wasn’t that impressed. Guy looked kind of dumb, to him.

“Aydan, shit, good t’see ya man. I was about to rip my way out, my dad used to have me tear out of canvas bags like that.” My Buddy Kev pointed to the bag at his feet "when I was little," he added boisterously.

Weebs gave a squint, as though to say “Wut?” That didn't sound right.

Then suddenly, My Buddy Kev was chewing really fast and hard, like he was eating something.

“Are you eating something Kev?” Weebs asked, then took a step back at the explosive response from this new person.

My Buddy Kev took a big step towards Weebs, one arm cocked as though to throw this plastic bottle of a vile looking dark liquid at him. “You don’t know him well enough to call him that yet, Weebs, call him My Buddy Kev, not Kev. Sorry about that, I should’ve warned about that one,” Aydan offered, thrust into the role of peacemaker.

Weebs, catching himself quick, was already moving to avoid the thrown bottle, should it come to that; he and My Buddy Kev froze there, like fighters posing at a pre-fight weigh in.

Those crazy eyes, “Ooook, I think I might like this guy, Aydan.” My Buddy Kev smiled then, regressed from Weebs a bit and went back to chewing really hard and fast; then he gobbed into the bottle in his hand. “Fuck is this place, man?” to Weebs who didn’t know what to make of suddenly being something of an underfoot character to this new man’s adventure.

“The home of the Graffiti Kids” Aydan said and kinda laughed, because the whole place was just a train platform and you have to get really far out of a city and stay there for a very very long time before someone bragging about a train platform as their base is gonna impress you all that much.

“What tha fuck are Graffiti Kids?” My Buddy Kev asked, and spit with his lips forced into the opening of the bottle, never losing eye contact with Aydan, like a maniac.

“Where did the bottle come from?” Weebs asked. It hadn’t made sense, it had just appeared and could have altered the course of the clash the two of them had almost had.

“Keistered it.” My Buddy Kev answered, eyes still on Aydan, as though he was the sort of person that just did stuff like that, had two conversations at once but only ever looked at one person while talking.

Weebs visibly winced, “And what is it you’re chewing there, bud?”

Another gob into the bottle, and some more intense chewing “Chew,” said My Buddy Kev.

“Yes, what is that you’re chewing?” Weebs asked again, this was all new to him.

“It’s called Chew, guy.”

“Wut?” Weebs didn’t like being called ‘Guy’ like that, it felt a lot like being called ‘Stupid’ for some reason Weebs didn’t quite understand, and that really annoyed him. “Like sunflower seeds.”

My Buddy Kev’s eyes, his lips back in that bottle of his, went, slowly, to Weebs, stopped there for a bit, then, slowly, went back to Aydan. The lips smiled then and My Buddy Kev said “If that works for you.” Then, to Aydan, his eye-brows went up.

This, as perfectly described, was all done in plain sight of Weebs whose eyebrows had risen very high on his forehead in disbelief.

Aydan? Loving it. “The Graffiti Kids, they’re the one’s that nabbed ya', they worked for some old queen that was gonna do ya in if’n the two of us goons here hadn’t stopped in to save the day.”

It was difficult to pinpoint, but there came a moment there, during Aydan’s explanation, when a light bulb, of some sort, had gone of inside the mind, or perhaps heart, no one knows, of My Buddy Kev. And just like that, there was the bluster of a breeze that kicked up and swirled across the train platform.

As quickly as the man had exploded out of the canvas sack the first time, My Buddy Kev had completely vanished from sight. The plastic bottle was still there though, standing where the man had been; it was in zero danger of being disturbed.

“He’s gone!” Weebs said, and as he spoke the words he realized that he found a true joy in the truth of them.

“Yeah, he’ll be back in a minute.”

“You know where he went?” Weebs asked his compadre.

Apologetically, “I do,” he gave a sort of shrug “My Buddy Kev is sort of stupid into army.”

Nodding in a way that he hope looked ‘knowingly’, Weebs nodded “I see.”

A scream shattered the quiet tableau, but was silenced. “Yeah,” Aydan continued “I think he thinks he was an army or something in a previous life, or, his dad was a tank or something. He told me about it once, but, I don’t know man, he’s just one of those dudes you go with while you can and hope to God you can keep on the good side of.”

“So, was he actually in the army?” Weebs asked.

“The KISS one.” Aydan slid in, he said the words because they were true.

Eyes squinted, Weebs was on the very verge of asking, but another cry hit the air, then a second; an explosion of voices pleas and things being knocked about, then more sudden quiet

“What is happening right now?” Weebs asked, things were going weird for him.

“Well, my guess? My Buddy Kev is hunting the Graffiti Kids into extinction.” Aydan gave his newly rediscovered old friend a look that said ‘what’re you gonna do’.

An eternity of overdubbed tinny sounding silence later, for that’s what silence sounds like when you can’t not listen to it because every so often you hear someone getting killed and then this rapist like silence forces you back into quiet again, My Buddy Kev reappeared out on the train platform next to his Aydan and Weebs; every part of him was red with vital fluids of more people than even he knew. Eyes and teeth floating in a crimson sea.

“We gotta go, the place is radioactive,” the guy was panting and, no shit of a lie, covered in blood in a way that one, one would think, one could only ever achieve by dunking oneself in in an oil drum filled with blood. My Buddy Kev was still dripping, a trail of bloody footprints a horrifying chronicle of the last twelve or so seconds, and glistened whilst he retrieved his bottle, then went back to chewing really hard and really fast. Nostrils flared, intense, the man reiterated "Raid-ee-oo-fuckin-active." He should his head slowly too, like someone had really crossed a line here.

That was all Weebs needed, he pulled the collar of his shirt up over his mouth and nose to dampen the radioactivity, held it there with his dominant left hand. His eyes, on the other hand, went wide looking at the complete horror show of My Buddy Kev that now stood before him.

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