"Z. in Love"

Joe Weeze and the Do-Nothings played their final note. Crowds across Big Dig erupted into cheers, one big roar, from the rooftops to the freeways to the pleasure blimps floating along. 

“Encore! Encore!” came cries from the basket of a hot-air balloon ambling down the street perpendicular to Crash Landing. A group of rowdy sailors on shore leave from the Asskicker were aboard, and wouldn’t you know it, both Billy Sodenholzer and his batman Haraguchi were among them! Billy smuggled a whole load of strawberry pies off the space-sloop; they were stacked behind him on the basket, destined for a house party.

The performance enraptured Billy, for it reached a particular spot in his heart usually devoted to the stainless steel skin of androids, but then something odd happened. Japanese flutes drifted in from somewhere beyond time - a flashback had begun.

“Wha?” said Billy, realizing the flutes arose from the recent memories of Haraguchi, playing out in real time as he clenched his fist and stared daggers at Joe. 

It was three years ago. The delinquent gangs of Japan had boiled down to two - the Rooks and the Tigers. Gangs in general were in decline - waning interest, greater wealth, no desire to fetch juice from vending machines and call some punk shithead “aniki”. Haraguchi was the Rooks' aniki, and he didn’t consider himself no punk shithead. Times were changing. The chivalry of the old days, honor, respect - lost in the madness of the coming fourth millennium, where meaning had no meaning.

They fought The Last Rumble at Nihonbashi Bridge, center of old Edo. Everyone knew it would be the last, ‘cuz there simply wasn’t enough interest no more. Under a blood-red sunset, the two gangs clashed, fighting like men possessed, since fighting was going by the wayside too. When the last man fell, when the last bell tolled - only Haraguchi stood, bandages covering a bloodied fist flapping in the wind of high summer.

When it was done, Haraguchi found Azuki Nadeshiko on the Tokyo shore, a manmade beach, a hole in the perpetual neon. Having vanquished his demons, having done what he set out to do, he confessed his love.

Doe-eyed Azuki slowly turned from the shore, sad smile on the lips, and said softly,

“I love Joe Weeze,” Haraguchi repeated in the present, growling next to Billy. “My love from across the sea.”

His fingers tightened around the basket railing. Billy got a bad feeling.

“Say, chum-”

Haraguchi nabbed a pie and tossed it at his mortal enemy. It struck right at Joe's feet, strawberry covering the bottom of his suit pants.

“Uhhhhh…” Joe said, unsure. The other sailors, itching for some action, started tossing pies too, covering the roof of Crash Landing in an aerial bombardment. The crowd started jeering at the sailors, so the sailors fired on the other rooftops as well. Billy, who had a sweet robo-girl at the house party he wanted to impress with his pies, was none too happy, but his calls to cease fire fell on deaf ears. He told the balloon captain to make haste out of here, but then Haraguchi gathered up a bunch of pies and leapt from the basket, followed by several rambunctious sailors.

The Do-Nothings fled down from the podium, getting between the shocked Dime Boys and the landing sailors. Haraguchi, pie ominously in hand, stood before Joe.

“You and Azuki Nadeshiko are in love.”

Joe stared at him for a long while.

“We are.”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Zipper, but Haraguchi actually yelled the same thing, drowning her out entirely. Haraguchi tossed a pie, but it was an emotional throw, sailing off the rooftop entirely. The crowd at Crash Landing charged the sailors, causing a big shindig of strawberry and sweat.

Rango glanced back at the girls. "Get out of here!"

Joe nodded. “We’ll hold them off.”

“Azuki…” Zipper repeated, but then a pie just narrowly missed her head. She blinked and returned to life, realizing she was in danger of being mobbed, a-and mobs were dangerous, yah? Pied to death. The sailors and crowd were mixed up now, punches thrown, and bodies pressed against Zipper, and her breathing was coming out ragged, blocked by the elbow in her stomach, hand grasping for her throat.

Sue scooped up Zipper and Nat, dragging them out of the mob towards the edge of the roof. A few sailors were close now, hands just narrowly missing Zipper’s collar.

“Do you trust me?” asked Sue. 

Zipper hesitated and Nat shook her head no, but Sue pretended not to notice and led them in a spectacular leap of faith off the building. Sue realized her miscalculation a nanosecond later.

“Ohhhh…I really thought the fire escape was on this side of the building-”

They plunged straight down. A pile of trash bags broke Sue’s fall. When she emerged, covered in gunk and banana peels, her back proceeded to break Zipper and Nat’s fall.

“Wow, good thinking!” Zipper exclaimed, she and Nat hauling Sue to her feet.

Sue, her back now at a 90 degree angle, groaned out, “...is there a doctor in the house?”

Zipper collected herself. The sounds of rioting were already escalating. “Let’s get out of here, while the Do-Nothings hold them off-”

The Do-Nothings emerged ‘round a corner, having come down the fire escape.

“We couldn’t hold them off,” admitted Joe.

Rango’s head had been yammed into a drum. It took a few yanks to get it off.

“Joe! Teme! Come back here!” came the cry of revenge down the fire escape.

Joe swallowed again, then took Zipper’s hand and dashed off, the rest of company doing suit. They emerged onto the avenue, within the underworld, blue haze and smoke covering the sky above, limiting visibility to just street-level. A few sailors were already down here, tossing pies at anyone just ‘cuz. It takes very little to cause a riot, just need a drunk core letting out the innate violent tendencies, spreading the infection of wanton destruction to otherwise pedestrian pedestrians. You see a couple dudes set a car on fire, and then…

Sirens whooped in as green humanoid police-bots, flanked by flying back rectangles, emerged on the scene.

“Disturbances are not allowed,” intoned the leading police-bot. “Use of lethal force is authorized.”

Guns were actually set to stun. You see, that bot intended for this to be some workplace-related comedy to ease tensions. Unfortunately, his “read the room” meter was improperly inspected last time around, meaning his joke did the exact opposite. Drinking copious amounts of whiskey is a known repellent to the effects of stun guns, enabling a group of sailors to flip over the bot. Bottles and bottle-rockets targeted the other bots, a car was indeed set on fire, and a long vendetta between the district’s rival Italian-Americans and American-Italians erupted into looting of the local bakery and more pies entering the fray.

Zipper choked on the underworld smoke and, more importantly, was effing fumed about Joe holding her hand. ‘Cuz holding her hand sent her into a fantasy of dinner dates, a marriage proposal on the orbital ring, honeyMoon, literally, ha, three kids, boy girl boy, he could be a world-class musician and she could be a guitar-maker or something…

But it wouldn’t be possible ‘cuz of that Azuki Nadeshiko!

So wrapped up in her monologue, Zipper barely registered that a string of bottle-rockets with pies attached had struck the middle of the street, separating the group, forcing Joe and Zipper down some stairs into a bar deserted by the riot. Zipper indignantly freed her hand, trying to force the warmth out of it.

Brain-flashes came in that the rest of the gang were hiding out down the street. When Joe glanced at Zipper, she turned her head and marched indignantly to the nearest pool table. The lights were dim down here, atmosphere darkened by faux wooden walls.

“What’s wrong, love?” Joe asked.

Zipper sat on the wooden edge of the table, angry hands trying to grab tufts of the green felt as if it was grass. “You like a girl.”

“Ah, yeah. More than like.”

“But, I was thinking, yanno…I kind of like you.”

It was an odd sort of feeling. Zipper, she told herself, you’re twenty-four, why’re you blushing like a schoolgirl and treating this like a school romance? Well, she answered herself, it’s ‘cuz I’m finally going out in the world and I’m only realizing now that I’d truly like someone to hold my hand and nobody else’s. I’m effing emotionally stunted.

Sympathy filled Joe’s face. “I appreciate it. Sorry it worked out this way. But you’re a great friend.”

“A friend, ha-ha.” Zipper lied down on the pool table, wishing to dissolve into the felt, closing her eyes. “Is that how life goes? Things not working out. I'm 24. I have no skills and no hobbies. I still haven’t had my first kiss. Life's over, isn't it?”

All was silent, the rioting outside sounding like a television set on low. Something tapped her on the temple. Eyes reluctantly opened. Joe stood with a pool stick, looking optimistic.

“You still got friends. That’s a start.”

“I’m 24 and only starting now.”

“You gotta start somewhere.”

“I’m so far behind.”

“Then go at your own pace.”

Joe held out the stick. 

Zipper breathed through her nostrils. 

"Fuck you," she said finally, smiling, "And your stupid English accent."

She grasped the cue stick and Joe hoisted her back up into the land of the living.