James McGarty had to wait out the storm in town, he had managed to get to a stable just in time. The buzzing sound of his hover bike underneath him soothed him as he drove through the wreckage of the storm. Trees were knocked down, gates had been tossed through the air and everything was covered in dust. Losing his son had left him distraught, who had any reason to kill him? Even Llewelyn wouldn’t sink to that level. But who then? Maybe Evelyn had come up with any information. He sped up as he avoided any debris on the road.
Only after a short while he noticed a man walking on the road from his house. He squinted his eyes, but he couldn’t say he recognized the man. He released the throttle with his right hand and slowly reached for his gun. He wasn’t taken any chances…
He had wanted to leave the James’ estate right after the man had left, but that storm seemed to have started brewing out of nowhere. Thorbin Jackson decided it was best to just wait it out in the house. Little chance anyone else would show up there during it anyway. Now why didn’t he take a vehicle with him?
He looked up and in the distance he could see a man on a hover bike approaching. He slowly reached to the plasma rifle on his back and pushed a button on it. The sound of the charging plasma rifle only made him tense up even more.
James’ hover bike slowly came to a stop on its own, he leaned a bit to the left and observed the man. It seemed he had a rifle on his back. James had his gun in his right hand, away from the man’s sight.
“And who might you be, stranger?” James shouted at him.
The man stopped walking and looked straight at him.
“I’m nobody, kind sir.” Thorbin shouted back. “Just a man taking an evening stroll.”
James wasn’t buying it.
“Then why are you coming from my land?” He grasped his gun firmly, ready for any action.
Thorbin looked back over his shoulder.
“That’s yours?” He calmly said and he slowly approached James. “You must be a rich man, if that’s all your land.”
James smirked and leaned forward.
“I pretty much own all of this land around here.” He said, with an arrogant tone in his voice.
Thorbin slowly kept on walking closer to him. He had to strike at the right time. He was clearly hiding something in his right hand.
“Well, it’s a nice piece of la…”
Before Thorbin could finish his sentence, James showed him his gun. Thorbin quickly got out of the blast area of his gun and swung around his rifle. He grabbed hold of the trigger and pulled it.
But James had already stretched his leg to kick it to the side. A photon blast blew past Thorbin’s head and he could see his own blast miss James. He lost his balance and dropped to the ground. As he got up again, he heard the sound of the accelerating hover bike.
“Fucking shit…” Thorbin shouted furiously.
He pushed the charge button on the plasma rifle again and got one knee. He aimed for him and pulled the trigger as soon as rifle was done charging. But he missed… he was too far out now.
James looked back and saw the plasma rifle fire. Who the hell was that guy? He sure as hell wasn’t going to find out right now. He got lucky, this man knew what he was doing. He pulled the throttle all the way back and leaned down, he had to get to his house as quick as possible…
Llewelyn Lennon woke up and looked at the ceiling while his eyes adjusted to the light. He slid to the side of the bed and just sat there for a bit. A lot had been going on outside. Murders around town, a big storm. He had decided to just stay inside. He reach over to a chair covered in clothes and pulled out a pair of trousers. He put them on and walked into his adjacent bathroom.
He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He should probably shave. He rubbed past his beard and grinned. Must have been three weeks since he shaved last.
He opened the faucet and after a few seconds warm water started pouring into the sink. Oh shoot, he forgot to put the stop in. He almost burned his fingers, but he got it in. He blew in his fingers. Bloody hot water, like always. He wished he’d never moved to this god forsaken planet.
The mirror was already fogged up, he grabbed a towel and wiped it clean. He closed the faucet, the sink was full enough. He got his shaving cream out of the small cabinet behind him and grabbed his razor as well. He put the razor in the hot water and filled his hand up with shaving cream. He dispersed it over his beard and quickly washed his hands in the still piping hot water. He turned around to put the shaving cream back and felt his foot was stuck under the matt on the floor. With nothing to grab on to in time, he dropped to the floor with his arms flapping in the air. With a hard scream and a loud bang he landed, with his face right next to the toilet bowl.
“GOD!” He shouted out, knowing there was no one that could even heard him.
He dodged a bullet there. All alone in the bathroom, this is how old people die.
Slowly, he grabbed hold of the toilet bowl and pulled himself up. He sat down and sighed. That was going to leave a bruise. He got to the sink and splashed water in his face. He got the towel and dried himself off. He’d get a shave another time…
When he got downstairs, he noticed he was in fact entirely alone. Imagine what would have happened if he’d hit that toilet bowl. A shiver ran down his spine.
He walked over to the calendar and looked at the date. He jumped up and immediately bent over. That drop earlier really hurt him. Might have even broken something.
But it was Wednesday! Bingo night!
He quickly put on his shoes and put on his jacket. There was no way in hell he was missing Bingo night for anything.
He walked up to the tavern and saw a big hole in the side. He walked in and looked at the bartender.
“What happened to the toilet?” Llewelyn asked.
The bartender looked at him.
“You mean… you really don’t know?”
“Would I ask if I did?” Llewelyn looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“Oh, sorry…” The bartender replied. “Figured you’d… oh well… someone blew up the toilet. With Smiley in it.”
“Then what about Bingo night?” He asked, knowing all too well what would follow.
The bartender looked at him and shook his head.
No one died (disappointingly)