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Chapter 24 By Punkerslut
The group begins running off, except for Gunner. He picks up the body of a bouncer by the chest clothes, and says, "Now, what is Britney Spears' latest single?" No response. "Oh, I'm sorry, it was bottle to the face!" He picks up a bottle and smashes it across the face of the bouncer, and then begins running off with his crew, who is already way ahead of him. The camera slowly fades away from the combat scene left by our main heroes. The camera opens up on a night sky, and slowly pans downward, to the feeding. Sweep and Gunner are on the ground, cuddled up together in a ball. There's a tall can of beer in Gunner's hand, as it looks like he's passed out. A person working with the feeding comes by. FEEDER: Hey, do you two boys need a place to stay tonight? Gunner wakes up, while Sweep is still asleep. GUNNER: Go away, not interested. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the worker. FEEDER: Are you sure? I have a warm bed at my home if you want. Gunner turns to the guy, pulls out his butterfly knife, and opens it. GUNNER: I said... fuck off. The worker runs off. Gunner goes back to his napping. Not asleep long enough, his crew shows up. Freak, Spike, and Lily. FREAK: Hey, bastard. Get up! Freak gives a giggle. LILY: Aaawww, but he's so peacefully. SPIKE: Yeah, that beer can really does put a picturesque effect on it. LILY: Maybe we should let him sleep. SPIKE: Bah, but if a man could always drink, then there would be no need for sleep. FREAK: The hangover that never comes. SPIKE: Hey, Gunner... You all right? You kinda look like you got in a fight, but I can't really tell. GUNNER: Aarghh... Yeah, yeah, I got in a fight, I'm fine. Me, Paul, Kevin, and Tank were table surfing at some bar. A yuppy gave us trouble, and the bouncer gave me shit, and, it was just violence.... incarnate. LILY: Where is Kevin? GUNNER: I think he's in line for some foodage. I told him he should just pass out with me, but nooo... He has to obey his mortal desires. That cunt. SPIKE: We're gonna go stand in line. You two wanna come with us? GUNNER: Sure, sure, sure... Sweep needs a bit of grub, anyway. Hey, Sweep, come on, get up... We're gonna get some food. Sweep moans a little. GUNNER: You little bastard. Gunner picks up Sweep and carries him to the line, where he stands him up. Sweep looks around droopy eyed, rubs his face a little. Hey Kid wanders over from the sidewalk. GUNNER: Yo, Hey Kid... how the fuck are ya'? HEY KID: I'm doing all right. Spent all of today sleeping and walking in dreams. First, I woke up in my squat. I left, just in time to pass the cruisers that were destined to take me in and book me. I was still sort of sleepy, since I had like four hours of sleep, and then dehydration woke me up. SWEEP: Dehy- what? HEY KID: Dehydration. I had very little water in my body. GUNNER: No way, Sweep. Every alcoholic has to know about dehydration. That's the stuff they teach you at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. That, ummmm, when you drink a lot, your body loses water, and.... okay, I have no idea what I'm talking about and I'm extremely drunk. Hey Kid, you explain it. HEY KID: Sweep, when your body destroys alcohol, it loses water. The sobering up process. And when you sleep, you're not drinking water. So, when you drink, try to have non-alcoholic drink before you go to sleep. It'll prevent the hangovers. SWEEP: Hey, thanks, Hey Kid, for explaining it. You're an all right guy. GUNNER, VOICE OVER: For some reason, I think that Sweep has the qualities of Hey Kid. Maybe Sweep is young and underdeveloped in this lifestyle, as a fucking eleven year old. That would mean that Hey Kid just never grew up out of his younger ages. Always a dreamer. In some profanely poetic way, it would make sense in this ungodly and confusing universe of ours. HEY KID: So, I was all dehydrated, or hung over as we call it, and I mossed around. Got a drink from that public fountain thing. I found an unlocked car. Opened the back of it, and jumped in for a snooze. Two hours later, I wake up and realize how thoughtless my idea of sleeping in a private car was, so I walked around a bit more. Found some cardboard, and slept on it in the freight yard, where nobody bothered me. KEVIN: You slept in the red shed? HEY KID: Well, I slept in a shed that had Communist slogans all over it.... why? KEVIN: It's called the red shed. It's not red in color, but it has "proletariat" and "the means of production" and all that other terminology on it, as much as I love it. I picked up the tip about it as a backup sleeping spot from some hobos who I smoked up a bowl of weed with. Knowledge is power and I'm just arming myself. GUNNER: Hey... How come you never told me about the red shed? KEVIN: You never asked about the red shed. GUNNER: You know... As drunk as I am, I think I actually understood that. KEVIN: Yeap. GUNNER: And you're a piece of shit. KEVIN: Fine fine, next time I run across some info like that, I'll inform you. GUNNER: Nah, actually, I don't really care. KEVIN: So, why'd you make a fuss about it? GUNNER: Just shut up and let Hey Kid talk, okay? KEVIN: Fine, but it's not my fault you have insecurities. Kevin folds his arms and looks in the other direction, and Gunner looks at him and makes a pissed off look with the facial expression of, "Are you fucking serious?" HEY KID: So, I was sleeping in the red shed at the freight yard on some cardboard, with just my clothes, no blanket. I slept for hours and hours. Finally, some worker comes in, and tells me that I can't sleep there. I was like, "Oh, uhhhh, I can't? Sorry, I'll leave." I head out and no problem. I checked the sun's position, and it was about six o'clock. GUNNER: No... Way... You know what time it is by the position of the sun? HEY KID: We're living in the Earth's environment. I wouldn't ever take a step in this foreign society, unless I had the knowledge to operate to my maximum efficiency. SPIKE: Does moss really grow on the north side of trees? Kevin nudges Spike with his elbow. KEVIN: Don't ask stupid questions.... So, Hey Kid, the sun sets in the.... west? Sweep starts shaking his head. SWEEP: (to Hey Kid) You know, I have to squat with these people. HEY KID: Looks like it would turn out to be interesting times. Hey Kid gives a modest smile. HEY KID: After I was thrown out of the red shed, as Kevin calls it, I walked around a little and fell asleep in the park on the grass. Surprisingly, I wasn't bothered by any cops. That makes it the first time I ever slept on public property openly without being bothered any law enforcement. SPIKE: Right, last time I slept on a park bench with Lily, they tried to arrest us for public trespassing on public property. Isn't that right, Lily? LILY: Just as he says it. We slept on the bench, bothered no one, and awoke to find that someone was trying to put handcuffs on us. SPIKE: Very not cool, basically. HEY KID: I slept on the park grass. To be cunning, I slept close to a family that was having a genuine picnic on the grass. That may very well have saved me. GUNNER: Yeah, a yuppy family has a picnic and takes their outcast, house punk son's ass to it. Sure, sure, I guess anything is possible. Kevin pushes Gunner. KEVIN: Do you have to be so fuckin' cynical? HEY KID: Anyway, after the picnic, I got up and walked around. It was around 8:00 o'clock night time that time, anyway. GUNNER: Hey, what kind of yuppy family has a picnic until 8 at night? KEVIN: (to Gunner) Hey, do you have to be so disrespectful!? GUNNER: Hey, shut up.. You're acting like an angry drunk. HEY KID: Actually, when I woke up, they were gone by that time. Just nothing but picnic scraps. SPIKE: Now, be specific. By picnic scraps, do you mean they left the potato salad? HEY KID: Meh, not much, actually. In fact, the guy looked over, saw me, and promptly threw out everything before leaving. GUNNER: Fucking bastard. I believe it, too. SWEEP: I wish people didn't have to be such assholes. GUNNER: Eh, what the fuck can ya' do about it? KEVIN: Smash windows, slash tires, a whole collection of different anti-establishment activities. Throwing molotov cocktails, arson, shoplifting... Hooray for us, we're Anarchists, and, oh, fuck.... SPIKE: Huh? You all right there, Kevin? KEVIN: Yeah, yeah... I'm gonna go lie down. Get me a plate, if they let you have two. Thanks. SPIKE: Sure, sure, brother. Only a few feet away from the line, Kevin bends over and pukes, then keeps walking until he finds a safe place to lay down. GUNNER: That Kevin, he's a good kid, a good kid. You know, he puts forth a lot of effort. SPIKE: Oh, most certainly. He's excelled further in his class than any of his mates. GUNNER: Just what are you trying to say, Spike? Spike shrugs. SPIKE: I 'unno... What are you trying to say? GUNNER: Touch'e, Spike. Touch'e. HEY KID: I think that Kevin has a good heart. He's strong mentally. A lot of kids out here don't know a fuck about their government's oppression, about the social injustice that comes with the idea of a state and Capitalism. Usually by age twenty or twenty one people start realizing that this is all bullshit. For you guys, somewhat young, you are strong for understanding who your enemy is and fighting back. These other kids are just fighting, and it's sad, really. GUNNER: Today I got into this major brawl at a bar, with my comrades. We beat the living fuck out of some yuppies and security guards, and we were outnumbered! Well, we did have Tank, and he sort of counts like four people, measuring by strength. But, still, we won. HEY KID: The world is full of violence, my friend, and I hate to see any part of it. I suppose it's one of the things I learned on the streets. If I can avoid violence and hate, I will do so. GUNNER: But, they started it! Besides, we're just being violent to the already violent. HEY KID: Self defense is a justifiable reason for fighting, and perhaps one of the few, besides overthrowing your oppressors. But remember, to be violent to those already violent may not solve the problem. You must be the change in the world you want to see. Gandhi said that. GUNNER: Eh, well, I like fighting. SPIKE: He does. I try to get him to stop but nothing works. Even after applying that ointment cream, he still fidgets with violence. GUNNER: What? Shut up, douchebag! Gunner pushes Spike and they both laugh. GUNNER: Say, would that be alcoholic ointment cream? SPIKE: Good god, you'd probably eat it if it was. Jesus, man... GUNNER: Only if wasn't already applied. HEY KID: Dude, that's just... just wrong, man. GUNNER: Ha, right...
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