America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 3)

Episode 15: Tiger King

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom dedicated to rescuing, housing, and rehabilitating exotic cats. A pair of rulers used to oversee operations at the sanctuary until the Cat King's sudden disappearance many years ago. Notwithstanding the mystery surrounding her husband's whereabouts, the Cat Queen continued to fulfill their mission of saving exotic cats with the help of her human subjects. Life at the sanctuary was serene until an unexpected scare shattered the peace.

"Don't kill me!" the Cat Queen screamed, unable to escape the masked gunman. "I-I'll give you anything! Just let me live! I won't tell anyone!" Despite her pleas, the masked gunman still focused his pistol on her head.

"No offense, cat lady," he said without remorse. "I've been paid to kill you, and you can't convince me otherwise."

"Please! Nooooo!" She slammed her eyes shut, prepared for the shot to end her life.

The masked gunman was about to pull the trigger when he picked up the shrieks of two more people somewhere close by. That moment of hesitation would cost him. Because out of nowhere, a flying golf cart slammed into his left side, crushing bones and vital organs. It happened so fast. The Cat Queen barely recognized the weird people riding the golf cart. They were Florida, Florida Man, and the lifesize cardboard cutout of Donald Trump (before he was contracted to serve a vampire).

"Fuuuck!" Florida Man and his sidekicks leaped out of the out-of-control golf cart, just in time to avoid a dangerous crash against the welded wire fence of a bobcat enclosure.

There should've been a moment of silence to absorb the shocking seconds of what happened, however, Florida wasn't fazed at all, laughing right away. "That was fucking awesome! We probably looked like superheroes if we stuck the landing while a huge explosion went off behind us!"

"Very huge," said Donald Trump in a dull tone, laying flat on the ground.

"Dude, I think I hit someone while we were falling," Florida Man mumbled, sitting up in a daze.

"Oh, crap. Really?" She finally noticed the battered body of a masked man smacked between the fence and the hood of the golf cart. Without much forethought, she got a stick and started poking the body. "U-Uh, dude... Fuck. You're alive, right? You're supposed to be breathing."

Taking matters into his own hands, Florida Man dragged the body off the golf cart and laid it down on the ground. He performed CPR. That didn't work. He slapped the masked man's face several times. That didn't work. He tried spitting on him, thinking his saliva could wake him up to the similar effect of water being splashed on someone's face. That still didn't work, so he gave up. "Welp. This dude's deader than a deer hit by a truck. Or, a flying golf cart in this case."

"Well, shit," Florida sighed. "It's a good thing we have the president around. You can pardon us, right?"

"Totally."

The Cat Queen watched the weird trio laugh about manslaughter, wondering if she should be grateful or fearful for her life.

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"Does CPR on a corpse count as necrophilia?"

"Did you use your tongue?"

"Maybe...?"

"Ahem." The Cat Queen disrupted their conversation, grabbing their attention. "I'm gonna call the police. They may know this hitman and whoever hired them to kill me."

"Hold on." Florida stopped her from dialing 9-1-1. "I have a better idea that doesn't involve the cops."

"Why don't you want the cops involved?" she frowned skeptically.