RE: Jerks In Time
04-25-2016, 01:47 AM
Tim checked the roof exit door. Damn. They remembered to lock it today. He sighed and sat on the top step, then unzipped his backpack beside him.
Timothy took out his stack of comic books for the day and put them on his lap. He placed a cigarette in his mouth clumsily, and tried to fire up a dollar-store lighter with both fists. After about ten minutes, he put the cigarette neatly back in its pack. Nothing was goin' his way today, but at least it was better than first period Sex Ed with Mrs. Appleby. He could swear, she got off on telling kids not to have sex and showing them the grossest pictures of exploding dicks she could find. (Like they weren't gross enough on their own.) He didn't understand why they had to split up the boys and girls, at least then there'd be some variety.
Hey, speaking of girls! Tim opened the second compartment on his backpack and pulled out the new Wonder Woman to read first. The guys always made fun of him for it, but c'mon, she was hot! Who needs the Sex Ed, right?
Just as he was getting into the story, the fire alarm went off. Shit. Tim went to put out his cigarette on the concrete step, then realized it wasn't his fault this time. He put his comics away in his backpack, then stopped with the zipper half-closed. If he went out there and a teacher saw him, he'd get caught skipping. Besides, it was probably just a drill...
The intercom crackled to life. "Students, this is your principal speaking," the principal said. "We have received an anonymous tip that there is a bomb somewhere in the school. Please remain outside until the police have finished their sweep and declared it safe. Thank you."
Not a drill. Tim zipped his backpack up, slung it over one shoulder, and stutter-stepped down the stairs. He figured it out: he would cut across the field, hop the fence, and walk back around from the wrong side of the school all "oh, sorry I'm late, my MOM got taken HOSTAGE," and he couldn't even get in trouble 'cause it's true. He could play hooky all day instead, but what even would he do?
Ultimately, he ended up slipping out one of the fire exits instead 'cause the cops and their K-9s were crawling the school. Tim kicked a rock into a sewer grate and cut through the church parking lot for his first of three planned left turns. It'd take a couple blocks, but hey.
Johnny turned the taxi right and rolled down the avenue at a crawl. "So, we've got the kids flushed out of the school, now what we gonna do about all the pigs we called in?"
"They're all inside anyway," shrugged one Anne.
"Maybe we could go undercover," said the other. "You could pass for a middle schooler, right Johnny?"
Both Annes snickered. Johnny slapped the steering wheel. "God DAMN it," he yelled. "It was bad enough with just one of ya!"
"Aw, I'm sorry Johnny," said Anne, stroking his hair over the head rest. "You know I love you."
"Me too," said the other Anne, competitively stroking the other half of his head.
"Get off, get off!" said Johnny. Both Annes yanked their hands away. "Jesus, how did you manage to get jealous of yourself?" He laughed.
"Hey, pull over!" said Anne. "That's him!"
Tim noticed the taxi that had slowed down to match his speed and looked over. The window rolled down. A short black man leaned out and dripped dark red blood onto the asphalt and the yellow paint on the door. It looked like the whole interior was covered in blood as well.
"Hey kid," he said, smiling a mile. "Need a ride?"
Tim froze.
"Hey, c'mon, don't be a stranger!" said Johnny, adjusting the brim of his newsie cap cordially. "You remember me, right?"
"...You're the guy that took my mom hostage?"
"That's right!" said Johnny. "That's right. See, we're practically best friends already! Now why don't you climb on in, me and my assosciates'd like to discuss something with you. I'll even let you ride shotgun!" Johnny waggled the shotgun in the air by the barrel for emphasis.
Tim breathed for a second. Then, he broke into a sprint down the sidewalk towards the school. Johnny double-clutched up and burnt rubber.
"Shit, SHIT!" he said, slapping the steering wheel. "He's goin' right for the cops, too. I thought you said this kid was cool, Future Anne!"
"He is, I swear!" said Anne. "Maybe you scared him!"
"Me?! How could I scare the guy? You're not making any sense," said Johnny.
Johnny drifted the cab to the left, right over the sidewalk, stopping a mere yard in front of Tim. "Hey," he said. "I think you need a ride."
Tim looked around and started climbing the chain link fence next to him. It was for naught: Johnny nearly yanked Tim's pants off pulling his legs and the Annes made short work of his grip.
"Please don't kill me," sobbed Tim.
"Relax," cooed Anne, reaching over and giving Timothy a shoulder massage from behind. "We really do just want to talk."
"You sure we got the right kid?" said Anne to the other. "He's acting like a baby."
"Pretty sure," said Anne. She took her hands off Tim and started rifling through her plastic bag. "Last time we just looked really cool is all."
"Come on, did you SEE that drift?" said Johnny.
"...That was pretty cool," sniffled Timothy.
"Yeah, Tim gets it!" Johnny laughed.
"How do you know my name?"
"We just need your help, buddy," said Anne. She scooted over and dangled a blood-stained pearl necklace from the bag by Tim's face as if it were car keys to a cat. "You can put this on, if you like. It's real pearls!" She tossed it onto his lap. Tim regarded it. "You're with us now, you hear?" Timothy nodded and hastily slipped on the necklace. "We're a team. We're best buds."
Meanwhile, Tim's lifeless, practically headless corpse continued to float through the sewer.
"Just get to the point," said the other Anne. "I think you're scarin' him more!"
"Point is," said Anne. "We need you to tell us..." She dropped the watch in Tim's lap. "...how this works."
Tim opened it up and baffled. "Misses, I don't even know how to read a clock right."
"Stop playin' dumb, kid, we know you know exactly how it works," said Johnny. "Future Lady here says so, and she's from the future."
"Wait... what?" said Tim. He turned around to face the Anne behind him.
"Shh," shushed Future Lady.
"Basically, we need you to figure out how that thing works or else time is completely destroyed," said Anne. "I mean, according to Future Lady."
"Well, according to you in the first place," said Anne. "I don't get it, myself."
Tim looked at the watch again, turned it over in his hands. "I'm sorry... I don't know how this works."
"Just relax and work your magic, kid," said Anne, leaning back. "We've got all the time in the world."
"Then what was all that about time getting destroyed?" snapped Anne.
"I figure, as long as we get it eventually, right?" shrugged Anne. Tim continued to fiddle with the machine. "I'm not even Future Lady anymore, and time just kept going, so..."
"Well, in the meantime," Johnny said. "We need to get gas." He hit the parking brake and pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Tim, would you go up to the nice man in the convenience store and tell him we'd like to fill our car and buy us a spare tank? Give him some green, Anne." Both Annes grinned.
Anne dug through the plastic bag and handed Tim two $50 bills that didn't look too bloody. Johnny stepped out, lit a cigarette, and put the nozzle in the tank. Tim wandered out of the car and towards the convenience store in a daze.
The bell rung. Tim shuffled up to the counter, throat dry.
"Can I help you, son?" said the kindly old gas station owner.
Was Tim gonna take this opportunity to make another break for it, even call the cops, or was he going to keep playing along with whatever Johnny & the Annes told him to do?
Timothy took out his stack of comic books for the day and put them on his lap. He placed a cigarette in his mouth clumsily, and tried to fire up a dollar-store lighter with both fists. After about ten minutes, he put the cigarette neatly back in its pack. Nothing was goin' his way today, but at least it was better than first period Sex Ed with Mrs. Appleby. He could swear, she got off on telling kids not to have sex and showing them the grossest pictures of exploding dicks she could find. (Like they weren't gross enough on their own.) He didn't understand why they had to split up the boys and girls, at least then there'd be some variety.
Hey, speaking of girls! Tim opened the second compartment on his backpack and pulled out the new Wonder Woman to read first. The guys always made fun of him for it, but c'mon, she was hot! Who needs the Sex Ed, right?
Just as he was getting into the story, the fire alarm went off. Shit. Tim went to put out his cigarette on the concrete step, then realized it wasn't his fault this time. He put his comics away in his backpack, then stopped with the zipper half-closed. If he went out there and a teacher saw him, he'd get caught skipping. Besides, it was probably just a drill...
The intercom crackled to life. "Students, this is your principal speaking," the principal said. "We have received an anonymous tip that there is a bomb somewhere in the school. Please remain outside until the police have finished their sweep and declared it safe. Thank you."
Not a drill. Tim zipped his backpack up, slung it over one shoulder, and stutter-stepped down the stairs. He figured it out: he would cut across the field, hop the fence, and walk back around from the wrong side of the school all "oh, sorry I'm late, my MOM got taken HOSTAGE," and he couldn't even get in trouble 'cause it's true. He could play hooky all day instead, but what even would he do?
Ultimately, he ended up slipping out one of the fire exits instead 'cause the cops and their K-9s were crawling the school. Tim kicked a rock into a sewer grate and cut through the church parking lot for his first of three planned left turns. It'd take a couple blocks, but hey.
Johnny turned the taxi right and rolled down the avenue at a crawl. "So, we've got the kids flushed out of the school, now what we gonna do about all the pigs we called in?"
"They're all inside anyway," shrugged one Anne.
"Maybe we could go undercover," said the other. "You could pass for a middle schooler, right Johnny?"
Both Annes snickered. Johnny slapped the steering wheel. "God DAMN it," he yelled. "It was bad enough with just one of ya!"
"Aw, I'm sorry Johnny," said Anne, stroking his hair over the head rest. "You know I love you."
"Me too," said the other Anne, competitively stroking the other half of his head.
"Get off, get off!" said Johnny. Both Annes yanked their hands away. "Jesus, how did you manage to get jealous of yourself?" He laughed.
"Hey, pull over!" said Anne. "That's him!"
Tim noticed the taxi that had slowed down to match his speed and looked over. The window rolled down. A short black man leaned out and dripped dark red blood onto the asphalt and the yellow paint on the door. It looked like the whole interior was covered in blood as well.
"Hey kid," he said, smiling a mile. "Need a ride?"
Tim froze.
"Hey, c'mon, don't be a stranger!" said Johnny, adjusting the brim of his newsie cap cordially. "You remember me, right?"
"...You're the guy that took my mom hostage?"
"That's right!" said Johnny. "That's right. See, we're practically best friends already! Now why don't you climb on in, me and my assosciates'd like to discuss something with you. I'll even let you ride shotgun!" Johnny waggled the shotgun in the air by the barrel for emphasis.
Tim breathed for a second. Then, he broke into a sprint down the sidewalk towards the school. Johnny double-clutched up and burnt rubber.
"Shit, SHIT!" he said, slapping the steering wheel. "He's goin' right for the cops, too. I thought you said this kid was cool, Future Anne!"
"He is, I swear!" said Anne. "Maybe you scared him!"
"Me?! How could I scare the guy? You're not making any sense," said Johnny.
Johnny drifted the cab to the left, right over the sidewalk, stopping a mere yard in front of Tim. "Hey," he said. "I think you need a ride."
Tim looked around and started climbing the chain link fence next to him. It was for naught: Johnny nearly yanked Tim's pants off pulling his legs and the Annes made short work of his grip.
"Please don't kill me," sobbed Tim.
"Relax," cooed Anne, reaching over and giving Timothy a shoulder massage from behind. "We really do just want to talk."
"You sure we got the right kid?" said Anne to the other. "He's acting like a baby."
"Pretty sure," said Anne. She took her hands off Tim and started rifling through her plastic bag. "Last time we just looked really cool is all."
"Come on, did you SEE that drift?" said Johnny.
"...That was pretty cool," sniffled Timothy.
"Yeah, Tim gets it!" Johnny laughed.
"How do you know my name?"
"We just need your help, buddy," said Anne. She scooted over and dangled a blood-stained pearl necklace from the bag by Tim's face as if it were car keys to a cat. "You can put this on, if you like. It's real pearls!" She tossed it onto his lap. Tim regarded it. "You're with us now, you hear?" Timothy nodded and hastily slipped on the necklace. "We're a team. We're best buds."
Meanwhile, Tim's lifeless, practically headless corpse continued to float through the sewer.
"Just get to the point," said the other Anne. "I think you're scarin' him more!"
"Point is," said Anne. "We need you to tell us..." She dropped the watch in Tim's lap. "...how this works."
Tim opened it up and baffled. "Misses, I don't even know how to read a clock right."
"Stop playin' dumb, kid, we know you know exactly how it works," said Johnny. "Future Lady here says so, and she's from the future."
"Wait... what?" said Tim. He turned around to face the Anne behind him.
"Shh," shushed Future Lady.
"Basically, we need you to figure out how that thing works or else time is completely destroyed," said Anne. "I mean, according to Future Lady."
"Well, according to you in the first place," said Anne. "I don't get it, myself."
Tim looked at the watch again, turned it over in his hands. "I'm sorry... I don't know how this works."
"Just relax and work your magic, kid," said Anne, leaning back. "We've got all the time in the world."
"Then what was all that about time getting destroyed?" snapped Anne.
"I figure, as long as we get it eventually, right?" shrugged Anne. Tim continued to fiddle with the machine. "I'm not even Future Lady anymore, and time just kept going, so..."
"Well, in the meantime," Johnny said. "We need to get gas." He hit the parking brake and pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Tim, would you go up to the nice man in the convenience store and tell him we'd like to fill our car and buy us a spare tank? Give him some green, Anne." Both Annes grinned.
Anne dug through the plastic bag and handed Tim two $50 bills that didn't look too bloody. Johnny stepped out, lit a cigarette, and put the nozzle in the tank. Tim wandered out of the car and towards the convenience store in a daze.
The bell rung. Tim shuffled up to the counter, throat dry.
"Can I help you, son?" said the kindly old gas station owner.
Was Tim gonna take this opportunity to make another break for it, even call the cops, or was he going to keep playing along with whatever Johnny & the Annes told him to do?