Chapter 25.5

It was a good idea

It was a great idea.

The fact that everything was going horribly wrong was absolutely not Skidmark's fault. How was he supposed to know The Travelers had a fucking monster locked up in their little garage? Nobody had told him about that! How do you even hide something that big? Skidmark was going to castrate whatever moron told him The Travelers would go down easy. He'd planned around bad information!

And it had been such a good plan, too.

He knew that, because it was simple. The best ideas are the simple ones, the straightforward ones. Less ways for things to go wrong see?

Step 1: Get Mush to attack some idiots, draw the heroes.

Step 2: Take Squealer's tank and blow up the uppity fucks sniffing around Merchant territory while everyone is distracted.

Two steps, no room to fuck up. Simple.

It was Squealer's pride and joy that he brought to the fight. The thing was beautiful. Tons of steel and sturdy tracks and a big ass cannon. It was perfect for shitting on some wannabe villains fighting way out of their league.

But, instead of dying like they should've when Squealer laid into that dumpy piece of shit they were staying in, The Travelers unleashed their pet elephant and now Skidmark looked like an idiot in front of the whole city!

And now elephant bitch was screaming about some asshole named Oliver that Skidmark apparently whacked at some point- like he gave a shit! Who the fuck is Oliver?

Hell, Skidmark knew lots of Olivers. He'd even get the ugly cunt a new one if she'd just fuck offbecause goddamn she was fast and the cannon on Squealer's baby just wasn't cutting it.

His powers weren't any help either; he tossed a couple of fields down in front of hippo girl and she just charged right through them.

That had stung like a bitch too, a stabbing pain right in his skull like five hangovers all at once.

But with no help from his powers and no gun big enough to do the job, Skidmark was left with only his wits to survive. His wits, which had taken him from the very bottom of the ladder to the ruler of this city! His wits, which would quickly and efficiently come up with a plan to save himself and, probably, Squealer, just as soon as he shut up THAT GODDAMN RINGING.

"WHAT IS THAT FUCKING NOISE!?" Skidmark bellowed, immediately wincing from the reverb. He was crammed in the tank behind Squealer so maybe shouting wasn't the best idea.

"It's the Endbringer siren Skiddy! We gotta get outta here!" Squealer answered, loyal, reliable, Squealer. He'd have to reward her once this shit was sorted out.

Wait, did she say Endbringer?

"Wait, did you say- GAH!" Skidmark cursed as the Turbo Tank Ten-Thousand swerved around a sharp corner and he was thrown out of his seat.

"Sorry Skiddy!" Squealer cried back to him. Her eyes, wide and panicked, were fixed firmly on the road as a four legged tub of lard ripped through a nearby building.

Skidmark took a moment to stick his head out the hatch and shout, "MISSED US YOU FAT WHORE!" before retaking his chair. Had he been thinking about something? What was it again?

Oh. Right.

"Shit! Did you say Endbringer!?"

"Yeah those're the Endbringer sirens! All the capes'll gather up to fight! We gotta get outta the city while we got the chance!" Squealer's frightened confirmation lit a spark of brilliance in Skidmark's brain.

"They'll all be gathered up in one place to fight?" He glanced through the rear window, at the butterball bitch who he didn't have the firepower to put down, and the rickety white van following in the distance, that held the rest of the little shits trying to move in on his city. A smile split his face, and suddenly he could see the possibilities spinning out before him. They settled in his vision, scattered like motes of starlight. A single brilliant path was illuminated, one that would cement his power in the city forever. A simple, straightforward plan.

Shit, what was in those shrooms? Whatever.

The Endbringer wouldn't be here for a while right? They wouldn't sound the alarm at the last second, what would be the point? And all those capes were just sitting there, bored out of their mind and worthless until the fighting started.

Skidmark leaned forward, clapping a hand on Squealer's shoulder, "Head towards the sirens baby."

He shot her a sly grin, relishing the tingly feeling of victory surging in his gut.

"I've got an idea."