Assassin on a Scooter
Before I tell you about the present I must tell you about the past.
Before I tell you about the past, I must tell you about the past past.
Before I tell you about the past past, I must tell you about the past past past.
THE PAST PAST PAST
I was a baby, fed directly from my mother's teat. She didn't trust formula, thought it was all poisonous. But daddy would spoil me behind my mother's back -- I once got to play with a grenade.
"Is that plastic?! We can't expose our baby to dangerous chemicals!"
"Relax, I gave him a real one. Plastic-free!"
Mommy raced for the crib and batted away the 'plaything'. A nasty explosion rocked the house and I started laughing. That's when they knew.
Got handed a toy gun with trigger and laser pointer sight. Picked out all the Lego people from 50 crawls away. Tossed a (BPA-free) plastic grenade into a pit of Barbie dolls. Played hide and go seek with my daddy and if he dotted me with a marker I didn't get snacktime.
My parents were so proud of me. They got me a scooter once I turned eight, after nine years of strenuous combat training.
Yet it was the last time I ever heard from them.
THE PAST PAST
Er, scratch that. I did get a recording of their last words.
"Please don't hurt my kid! I'll do anything! I love my baby, who will destroy your evil organization! For you shall not underestimate humanity's power! We are great! We are resilient! We are mighty! This. Is. Spar-" *blam*
"Um, my wife is off her rocker. Spare my kid, alright? You can kill me-" *blam*
I kinda wish they didn't send me that tape. What a bunch of loonies.
Anyway, there I was, all alone, with nothing but a Glock, my trusty scooter, and some grenades. I was immediately contacted by the organization that killed my parents, Assassins United.
My first mission: kill Santa.
There was a mall Santa that had a habit of telling kids their presents were super cute and that he'd love to stick a stocking in them. Christmas-themed pedo puns tend to put you on the hit list.
Now of course, Santa doesn't come out to play in the middle of July, so I had to do some research. Turns out, he's a neighbor to that old elderly couple, the Sf;jaffae;as.
I kicked down the front door...well no I was a kid. I blew up the door with a grenade and headed to the living room where he was watching little girls dancing on TV. Even as a pedophile, does your vice have to define every bit of your personality? Watch a movie! Not that kind of movie! Anyway, I tried to shoot him but missed. Slippery little man. I chase him down to the basement, where he closes the door and locks himself in.
"Shh, my little angel. He can't get us here."
Gross. Grenade. "But how?!" *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM*
Saw a crying girl huddled nearby.
"Shh, you're safe now, my little- damn my impressionable nature! If the girl was crying before, she was absolutely hysterical now. I waited until she calmed down, keeping my hands in my pockets while kicking the old pedo corpse. She got used to me once she saw I meant no harm.
"Um, sorry about that. Did that guy hurt you in any way?"
She shook her head no. I breathed a sigh of relief and led her out of the basement.
Eventually, I found her parents and they didn't say anything about the crying which was good, and I got a dollar to go buy a flipping ice cream whoop-de-doo. Well I got also $2000 from Assassins United to pay rent and buy food and stuff. Got some more grenades.
I was a rowdy teenager now. Everyone laughs at me for keeping my scooter but it's the only thing I have left from my parents. (A sort of past past past vs. past connection if you will) A scooter drive-by does have a higher success rate just because the target is so busy laughing that I can waste him with my Uzi. Dying of laughter, heh.
"Your target will be a rogue Assassins United member named Eunice A. Muriel. Be warned. She has decades of experience and may put your own life in danger."
"I'm sure I'll be fine. I got this brand-new Uzi to light up even the most senior of citizens."
Yeah that sounded kinda pathetic actually. Sixteen years and I'm still picking off old grandmas. Oh well.
I put some speed on my scooter (It's a Razor optimally equipped for fast chases... I painted it red so it would go faster...) and found Eunice casually strolling by on her walker. Just 1, 2, and a RAT-A-TAT-TAT.
Wow, she dodged it and did a flip into the bushes. Now it was I who had to run for cover.
Ended up pressed flat against the side wall of a house. Not the most ideal of situations but let's try ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT #2! RAT-A-TAT-TAT!
"Oh, you want some of Grandma's cookies eh? Well I have to have some hidden right here! She dug up an M16 automatic rifle. Returned more than enough fire, hit me in the shoulder because of this horrible cover. I had to think fast. No way I could outfire an automatic rifle. I'm bleeding holy hell ow ow ow. But then it clicked.
"Hey, you know Adrian Muriel?"
"That's my grandson you're talking about, what of it?
"I got him wired up to an electric chair. Plan B, woman!"
"W-what? I'm calling him, stay right there."
The grandma went down. I listened to her speak her last words.
"I... I remember you and Adrian used to line up next to each other for the mall Santa. Now that I think about it, a nice boy like you wouldn't use an electric chair."
Grandma Eunice slowly turned to me. She grimaced in pain.
"I'm tired of life. Tired of fighting. Take good care of Adrian. And maybe the next time we see each other, we won't be assassins..."
Got patched up at my house, went over to Adrian's to pay respects.
"Hi, [Didn't give MC a name before, why bother now.]!"
"I don't know how to say this, but...your grandma just died."
"From the Uzi in your hand?"
"My what? Holy hell!" (What do you mean I must have accidentally left it in my hand?!)
"It's obvious you killed my grandma. And for that, you're gonna pay! Taste the power of the Suburban Samurai!"
Adrian brought out his nunchucks and hit himself with it. Then he brought out his katana and dinged it on the doorframe. Quickly I took his stuff before he went and accidentally committed (wait for it) sudoku. Adrian started crying.
"...She wanted to go, Adrian. She was tired of the assassin's life. Come on, do you really think someone like me could take down a top operative like her?"
"I guess not..." We went inside and helped ourselves to some store-packaged corporation-baked cookies. They just weren't the same.
This is where it's all going to come together. The present, the past, the past past, the past past past, and the past past- wait. um. Just like, all the pasts.
I took out my trusty scooter and rode along the streets of Old Snickers City.
"Hey I'm walkin' hyere!"
"Big manly man! Loose the scoot!"
"Sick scooter, Baby Bottles!"
Didn't care. Kept a M16 in my big boy pants. With great power comes great responsibility.
My target was Jane the Brain. She was smart enough to secretly invent the lightning rod, bifocals, and the glass harmonica. Some say she's a zombie Ben Franklin, but I dunno. You can't be sure of anything these days. That's what you learn as a top operative of Assassins United.
"Hey! Is that scooter as small as your ding-dong?" I thought scooters had nothing to do with the Hostess pastry. But, I couldn't be sure. Mentally filed it as a clue to take down Assassins United.
Oh that's right, didn't I tell you? That grandma told me to take care of Adrian (in a good way). He's an adult now, about to enter the dark underground world of assassinating people. I can't let that happen. He's too uh, I find it funnier when he hurts himself with nunchucks. Like someone who watches too much anime. It's endearing.
There it was. A tall tower full of all sorts of secret spy activities. Floor 53 was where Jane Franklin was. But I was only there for one thing: revenge.
I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Who knows what sort of booby trap the elevator might have. After about the fifth floor, I realized I had seventy more to go and decided maybe the elevator was worth it.
It was the top floor. I rubbed the M16 in my pants, tapped the folded up scooter in my back and rushed in.
"Hey buddy, am I happy to see you!"
"Hell yeah! Listen, the Assassins United organization is bringing Grandma back from the dead. We'll get to see Grandma again, aren't you excited?!
Suddenly the portal in the middle of the room roared, and out stepped zombie Grandma with a chainsaw.
Jane. Ben Franklin. Lightning Rods. It was all a cover-up for their zombie assassin project. A blast from the past, and I, as the present had to stop it using the skills I've learned from all the pasts. Grandma Eunice, I'll send you back to the afterlife. Adrian, I'll probably have to send you there too. Sorry, but at least you'll get to stay with Grandma.
...Gosh gollies! I forgot the grenades!
THE FUTURE PAST
I shot handily at Grandma Eunice, so that bullet after bullet pierced her supple green wrinkly skin. Gross.
"Hey! What are you doing? Stop or else I'll have to unleash my Ninjutsu, by my Bushido code as the Urban Samurai Ninja!
He made some stupid hand signs and charged at me with his katana. I batted it out of his hand.
"Oh you've done it now! Go, eight tailed badger nunchucks!"
I batted away his nunchucks before he could do anything with them.
"Well good ninja know...tactical retreat..." mumbled Adrian.
Good Adrian. Now for some reason, bullets weren't working on Grandma. Then I saw she was regenerating tissue. Mega gross.
No grenades and a zombie inching closer and closer to me. What to do? ...oh yeah.
Dashed in, yanked the chainsaw from Grandma and started carving away. All the limbs, and yes, decapitating the head. Regenerate that!
"That was pretty cool. Guess that's why they don't give zombies chainsaws." A gun pressed against my head. I dropped the chainsaw and slowly raised my hands.
"But you took away Grandma twice, and now you're going to pay."
I panicked for something to say. "Um, Adrian, how did Grandma's cookies taste?"
"They were heavenly! Mounds of soft chocolate nestled gently between a fragile crust-"
I wrestled my M16 back and littered him with bullets. Got a few in the face so he couldn't pull some bulletproof vest nonsense.
"Say hi to Grandma, Adrian."
"And, um. Sorry I took care of him (in a bad way), Grandma Eunice."
A man in a suit appeared behind the portal, clapping.
"Well done, well done! I am the CEO of Assassins United, and I would like to offer you the seat to my position! I am getting old-"
I shot him (again, a few in the head) and watched him collapse. I recognized his voice. The man that shot my parents. Whatever. That was all in the past.
So I assumed my role as CEO and shut down the organization. If I didn't know any better, I'd say people were tired of it.
But as to the future, I'm not sure what's going to happen.
I threw away my scooter since I don't need it anymore. Remembered to bin my weapons too. Felt like a huge load had been taken off my back and legs. I think I'll go and work as a year-round mall Santa. And if the kids ask me why I'm working in July, I'll tell them,
"Ho Ho Ho! You look like the fiery type! Have a toy grenade and gun and go blast some Barbie dolls."
And then I'll lean in close and offer some sage wisdom only a July mall Santa can offer.
"You're our future. The past has been wiped clean, and it's up to you to dirty it up again. Why? Because it'll be funny, that's why."
"No, forget about it. You can't have the katana. No nunchucks either."