Things Fall Apart

8. Bulletproof

The Sandstorm to end all sandstorms had come and went.
Trans AM had finally been launched, thanks to Tommy Chow Mein, who had managed to find some old barrels of Dead Pegasus gas down in the Trash Lords. Tommy Chow Mein always found the most useful things to furnish his bazaar. Nobody quite knew how he did it, and nobody cared, as long as the Rebellion remained standing.
Radio broadcasts were on 24/7 now, and the audience kept on growing.
Rebellion against the Better Living Industries was growling in the downtowns of Battery City and in the Zones.
Maybe, somewhere, life was worth living.
"Listen!" Poison exclaimed, while roughly kicking the studio door open.
He was wearing his aviator sunglasses, tight jeans promoting the Dead Pegasus brand, and a sleeveless shirt that was at least two sizes too big for him, of which he had obviously cut the sleeves of. He stopped in a sassy pose, hand on his hip.
"Wha'd'ya want, Poison baby?" Doctor D replied, taking off his sunglasses. He wasn't impressed one bit by Poison's bold show-off.
"We have to strike them now, while our guns are still steaming and half of the population is backing us. We can't keep on hiding our guts in the Wasteland forever! What would be our point then? We have to go down there and attack them, so they don't feel safe, even in their own city!" Poison passionately cried out.
"Poison..." Doctor Death Defying sighed "I see your point. A very good point that is... But this is madness! We're still too weak, the BL/ind are way too organised. We need to recruit more. Besides, if we strike them now, they'll know we have a cause, they'll know what we're up too, and they'll only be too prepared the day we might finally be ready. I know it's tough and boring, but we're gonna be stuck here for a while, kid..."
"Bullshit!" Poison screamed angrily. "They already know what we're up to! They sent the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W down here! They're defying us! We need to strike back quickly, not wait! We're not cowards, are we?"
"No, that is out of the question! I forbid you to step a toe into that damned city, you hear me boy?" Doctor D replied calmly, but nevertheless threateningly.
"Try and stop me!" Poison yelled, storming out, violently slamming the door behind him without waiting for Doctor D's comeback. The door reopened seconds later, to let a bewildered Cherri Cola in.
"What's up with him?" He gently asked.
"Humm, he's bored to death here... I don't blame him." Doctor D replied. "Just leave him be... He'll eventually make up his mind. Deep down, he knows I'm right..."
Cola nodded but said nothing.
He knew how difficult it was to make Poison change his mind once an idea had settled into his pretty little skull.

Poison screamed out his rage, kicking sand, under the concerned look of Jet Star. For a moment, sun shone through the thin grains flying in the air, but soon they all settled back on the ground of the Wasteland, back from their fleeting moment of individuality to a blind mass.
"Hey Uncle!" Fun Ghoul cried out for behind him "Are you done yet baby?"
Poison couldn't help but notice this was the second time in less than a day that he had been called "baby". He'd need to tame these people again. Nobody called Party Poison, the most dangerous Killjoy in the Zones, a "baby".
Nobody.
"Shut up Ghoul, or I'll kick your nuts." Poison hissed.
"Uncle, Uncle, sky's bright blue today!" Fun Ghoul insisted. He took of his shoes and lithely jumped on his feet to start dancing madly.
"What the fuck?" Jet Star whispered.
"What the frick-frack did you just said?" Fun Ghoul suddenly stopped dancing, looking really angry. "I want to hear no cuss words in front of me again, have I made myself clear?" He looked so mad Jet Star only muttered a "Yes Sir" as an answer.
Kobra Kid watched the whole scene in silence.
"So anyways, what did Doctor D. said?" Jet Star gently asked Poison.
"We don't need Doctor D. We're the Fabulous Killjoys damn it!" Gerard replied. Frank shrieked at the curse word again "... He said no, of course not." Poison continued "he said we're not ready, they're too organised, that we need to recruit more."
"Humph, yeah he's probably right. You should listen to him, he's wise."
"He's just an old man! He's at least thirty! The BL/ind sent goddam -sorry Ghoul- S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W here! And we survived! I think we're more than ready! Besides eliminating them would be sooo helpful. I saw their leader, a bald man with bushy eyebrows and a nose like an eagle's beak. We need to kill him first, then the rest of them will lose confidence and we'll win."
"I don't know, Poison..." Jet Star wisely replied furrowing his eyebrows "should we?"
"Hell yeah I'm in!" Fun Ghoul screamed.
"Kobra will do whatever I tell him, so he's in too..." Poison continued, as though he was defying Jet Star. His icy look almost got the latter scared, as though every hesitating second drove him more and more towards unreliance from Poison.
"Alright..." Jet Star sighed. "Maybe you're right, maybe we ARE ready, maybe I'm just scared... I'm in."
"Good!" Poison smirked. He had won. "Fabulous Killjoys, let's go!"
Kobra couldn't help but notice how his brother's black roots were beginning to grow over his long Poison-red hair again.
He remembered how his brother's hair used to be entirely black. It was as though his old identity was trying to outgrow what he had became, taking back over his body, that once belonged to him but that he had lost to wilderness.
Wild. That was the word.
Everyone was going wild in the Wasteland, they had lost their humanity behind a mask and a new name.
And they thought it was Good. They thought it was the point.
But Kobra knew that even though the Better Living Industries had appropriated themselves and aggravated humanity, it had existed before, and existed beyond that dystopian world they had created.
And he wondered where his 'real' brother's mind wandered now, and if he could reach him, or if he had just gone forever, and all that was left of him was an empty body and a fake name to hide behind, spawn of his once flourishing imagination.
Did his brother really cared about him anymore? Kobra didn't know. He knew he used to. Maybe he was just gone forever now.