asymmetries (asymmetries) wrote in pinstripedheart,
asymmetries
asymmetries
pinstripedheart

I had some free time

 It is a dark and starry night.  The Catch is between Sticksville and Hicktown after a brief tour of Boonies.  Carly and Amy are in the front seat of the tour van discussing current events.  Alissa and Jenny are behind having a heated debate about philosophy.  Sam the cat licks his ass. 

"They are so going out."  "No way.  I heard he was gay."  "I read it in People."  "That is such bullshit, I only trust US."

"Yuh-huh," argues Alissa.  "Nuh-uh," retorts Jenny.  "Yuh-huh"  "Nuh-uh" "Yuh-huh"  "Nuh-uh times a million zillion"  "Yuh-huh times infinity plus two"  "I guess you make a good point."

 Occasional murmurs burble up from the very back where the Cabots are passed out after a few too many at the last club.  Sebastian, from his hiding place in a dark corner beneath piles of equipment, warily watches Sam.  His every muscle tense, ready to flee at the slightest glance of the junior feline, he stares.

 BAM, a tire blows out.  The van weaves.  The girls yelp with alarm.  They skid to a stop.  Sam looks up, lifts the other leg, and continues to lick his ass.  The girls get out to inspect the damage and change the tire.  They soon discover that the process will be difficult.  It would seem that a previous occupant of the van had been so kind as to replace the jack with a stale baguette.  Furthermore, the spare tire was missing and in its place was a detailed diorama of the Siege of Lisbon.  "Good workmanship," observes Alissa, "They're shitheads, but skilled."

 They reach for their phones.  Amy find that she has lost hers, Alissa and Carly have dead batteries, and Jenny can't get reception.  They attempt to wake Alexander and Alexandra to try their phones.  Alexander lifts his head, looks Amy intently in the eyes, and very earnestly says, "It is really a moot point whether you can find Army boots for a rhinoceros since they are all pacifists," and then passes out again.  Alexandra mumbles, "No I don't want bacon bits on my fish taco," rolls over, farts, and starts snoring.  Everyone clears out of the van.  Sebastian sees his chance to make a break for it only to receive a Flying Sam to the head.

 The girls discuss their options.  "We passed that boarded up hotel with the mysterious lights in the window a few miles back."  "There was also that spooky mansion with the vultures circling it."  "I saw a sign for a creepy abandoned amusement park."  "Don't forget the ghost town with the floating, glowing cowboy."  "Ooo yeah, the ghost town."  "We should definitely go to the ghost town."  "Definitely."  Goons pop up and spray them with knockout gas.  Sam glances over briefly then chases a moth into the woods. The goons carry the unconscious Catch, Cabots, and even Sebastian off.

 The girls awake in an underground bunker.  Everyone is bound hand and foot, except for Sebastian who is bound foreleg and backleg.  The Cabots are still sleeping it off.  Alexandra snores ungracefully.  Alexander occasionally mumbles.  Across the room a caped man paces back and forth, talking to himself and gesticulating wildly, obviously agitated.  He notices they are awake and approaches.

 "Damn it, happens every time.  I work up some ambitious, over complicated master plan and, POOF, a group of damn kids appears to foil it.  Well not this time.  I am not going to give you the chance.  I am not going to underestimate you.  I am not going to let you wander around finding clues.  I am not going to try to scare you off with some lame disguise that only draws more attention.  I am not going to let you work up some Rube Goldberg trap for me that gets screwed up only to work in some backhanded way.  No, not again, not this time.  You are going to stay right there where I can watch you until it is all well and done.  Oh and don't expect me to tell you what my plan is and thus show you how to undermine it."

 That out of his system, he looks at his watch, looks over at the control console, and paces some more.  "So, just out of curiosity, what is your little band of amateur detectives called?"  "We are not amateur detectives," replies Amy, "We are musicians."  Adds Jenny, "We are called The Catch."  She thinks for a second. "Now that I think about it, that does sound kind of sleuthy, but we are just a band."  "So you don't solve crimes?"  "Nope," says Carly.  "You don't stop diabolical plots?"  "Maybe a few little ones, nothing big."

 "Hmm... The Catch...  I think I've heard of you.  Yeah, I saw your video on MTV4 in between Real World: Fargo and Road Rules: Antarctica.  Not bad, not really my thing, I'm more into industrial polka, but I can see the appeal."  "So you believe us.  You'll let us go.  We have a gig,” says Alissa hopefully.  "Oh hell no.  I'm sorry, but I am not taking any more chances.  I have been through this too many times." 

 He looks back at his instruments, checks his watch again, and turns back to the band.  "So you play a lot of shows with a lot of bands.  Have you ever met a band called Static Flux?  It is sort of goth oompa music.  They are all mad scientists.  The sousaphone player is one of my best friends.  We go way back."  He goes on talking about all the crazy adventures they used to have, all the crazy stuff they did.  The weather machines, the giant robots, the massive weapons they used to build.

 He is thoroughly engrossed in telling the story about them getting high and releasing an army of knife wielding gerbils to take over the administration building when, behind him, a moth flutters in through an open window.  It is closely followed by a flying gray blur of feline.  It catches the moth in midair and comes to a landing on the nearest control panel displacing several switches and pressing several buttons.  Sam stands up, proud of his conquest of the mighty moth monster.  He looks around and finally notices his bound companions.  He quietly creeps down and over, staying out of sight.  He moves into position.  Eyes wide he crouches, butt wiggling in the air, and leaps.

 Sebastian never sees it coming and is sent tumbling.  Sam, proud of yet another victory, goes and cutely curls up in Alissa's bound lap.  "Aww, he's cute.  What's your name kitty?" asks the caped captor, "Wait, where did he come from?"  He looks around and notices the open window.  "Godammit!  Who left the window open?"  As he closes the window a voice come from he computer, "Program shutdown complete.  Operation aborted.  Self-destruct in five minutes.  Have a nice day."

 "What... What happened?  What went wrong?"  He walks over to the console and inspects the readings.  He turns, sighs, and shuffles over to the bound group and unbinds them.  "Go, you can leave now, it doesn't matter anymore.  Just go.  Why does this always happen to me?"  He slumps into his throne, rubbing his head, dropping his cape in a pile.

 The girls get up rubbing their chafed wrists.  They manage to wake the Cabots into an ambulatory state.  To the sound of profound weeping, they awkwardly make their way towards the door, unsure what to say or do in such a situation.  Carly hesitantly calls over, "H-hey, maybe if you feel like it some time, you could come to one of our shows.  We'll put you on the list.  Or something." and then she scoots out the door.  The others give their awkward assents and half-hearted yeahs and follow her.

 They make it out of the bunker and find their way to the van managing to call roadside assistance along the way.  "We never did get his name."  "Thbbpt," blurts Alexandra.  As the group reaches the van the air is rocked by a massive explosion.  Sam licks his ass.

 

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