by Mars Dorian
“How’s it looking?” the fan said, his naked back turned to Bam.
Bam looked at his tattoo abomination. Jiggly lines and smeared ink resulted in eye puke that would make a blind kid cry. But hey, who was he to judge? If the fans liked it, so be it. Besides, they had a mission to win.
“I think it’s very unique,” Bam said.
“Cool. Can’t wait to see it,” the fan said.
Better not, Bam thought. He poked on with his clueless hand. Hoped to finish this mess in record time.
But he wasn’t as fast as the self-proclaimed commanderess wanted him to be.
“Hurry up, this isn’t the time to craft your magnum opus,” Elli said.
“I’m already going as fast as I can go. Look.”
She looked at Bam’s tattoo creation and covered her mouth. Turned to him with the finest WTF expression her freckled face could come up with. Bam whispered.
“What?”
But Elli was speechless. She returned to her session and pretended Bam and his tattoo never existed in the first place, which she managed rather well.
Four tattoos done, six more to go.
It was happening.
Whizzard was also allowed to tattoo, although only two peeps stood in his line, and one of them was drunk. Whizzard didn’t mind.
“I’m going to tattoo my name on your forearm. And it’s going to suck.”
“Whatever,” the drunk guy said and reached out his naked arm.
His whiskey-laden breath traveled across the table. Elli pinched her nose. Bam smiled.
“At least we don’t have to disinfect him.”
“Yippie,” she said and shifted back to her floral Elli Mental tattoo.
“Next,” she said.
A guy held out his arm.
“Under the palm, please.”
Elli nodded without looking up. Because looking up cost time, and she needed to spent that precious resource on winning instead. But when she readied her needle and was about to poke the ink into the guy’s forearm, she saw two other tattoos.
The top one said,
‘Violet Gear forever’
The bottom one said,
‘Elli, Bam and Whizzard must die’
She raised her chin and looked up. Saw a guy twice her size, covered in black armor and the most vicious visor she’d ever seen.
“Uh-oh.”
93
Bam and Whizzard stopped doing tattoos. They even stopped talking, just like every person around the lawn. A two-meter tall guy wearing battle armor and a cat-like visor with spikes stood out in suburbia, period. Someone eventually found his voice again, it was Whizzard.
“Who the hell are you?”
The armored guy answered with a punch into the crooked vlogger’s face. Steel-gloved impact on Whizzard’s wobbly facial skin, it wasn’t pretty. He kicked the table over, the ink and tattoo tools shot into the air. The fans screamed and ran in all directions, Elli dashed off and Bam rolled sideways. He followed the little girl. She jumped over the hedge like a frog on steroids. In the background, screams and mass hysteria rang out in not-so-safe suburbia.
Bam sprinted.
“Who was that freak?”
“Who cares,” Elli said.
She stumbled on her feet but got back up and blitzed away as fast as her short legs would take her. Bam followed her, but turned back and saw the armored freak beating Whizzard to the ground. He whirled his custom baton and hit Whizzard who desperately shielded himself with his scrawny arms. Game over, crooked vlogger, but Bam stopped. One part of him smiled, seeing Whizzard getting the beating of a lifetime. But the other part saw the flying Vorbs and thought, I could use this moment. Score extra points on the likability scale. Personal brand boost. Bam saw the shareable headline flashing before his eyes,
‘selfless vlogger saves obnoxious rival in incredible melee battle.’
It would be the PR stunt he needed for his personal brand.
Yes.
Elli stopped meters before him and hissed.
“What the heck are you waiting for? Keep running, I still need you.”
Bam observed Whizzard hundreds of meters behind. Saw how the armored freak aimed for the the scrawny guy’s head. He pushed down his right arm and hit him with the baton. Screams. The next one would hit Whizzard’s face. It would finish him off.
Goodbye, personal branding promo.
Bam waited one second, two seconds and felt how the adrenaline went ballistic in his veins.
“No, leave him, he’s done for,” Elli said.
She grabbed his arm and squeezed. Bam ignored her squeaky voice and ran back. Stormed towards the armored freak and landed an air kick into his protected ribcage.
Street fighter style.
They both fell down on the lawn, the freak much harder than Bam. But there was no time for relief, the guy jumped back as quickly as he fell. Crap, Bam thought. The armor and grass must have mitigated the brunt. Craptastic, but at least Whizzard was still alive, and he had the majority of his teeth in his mouth. He looked up to Bam and wiped the blood from his nose.
“Hero of the day.”
“Shut your mouth and get up.”
“Ay sir.”
For the first time ever, Whizzard listened to Bam. Moved back to his shaky feet and walked away with a limp. Elli even ran back to him and helped him up, which seemed surreal to Bam. But not as surreal as the armored sci-fi cosplayer with the aggro issues.
“Who are you?” Bam said.
“I’m your end.”
“Why did you attack us?”
“Because you’re making my babygirl lose,” the freak said in his robot voice.
“Violet forever, you punk.”
Bam sighed. Was this guy Violet’s psycho boyfriend? A dedicated fanatic? His armor did look like one of her designs, like the one from her industrial battle fashion show. Bam spoke with vigor.
“Get lost before I’ll smash your cheap-ass visor into the asphalt.”
“You don’t scare me, Bam boy. You’ve got nothing on me, with your cheap crash videos and lousy stunts. You don’t deserve to win this competition. Only Violet does.”
The armored freak stretched his feet, circled Bam and swung his baton. Bam cracked his knuckles and focused on the guy’s movement. Saw how he launched another attack, but Bam could tell he was an amateur. Sloppy stance, useless attack angle. Bam evaded the incoming baton jab with a sidestep and hit the guy in the rib. Armor or not, this punch sent him off balance and made him stagger. Combo time, amigo. Bam didn’t wait for the guy to find his balance again. He unleashed a roundhouse kick, hitting the freak’s unprotected hamstring. The guy lost his balance, slammed down to the ground causing his armor to go bing bang on the asphalt. In the distance, Elli shouted after Bam.
“Hurry up, we’re on a mission.”
Yeah, no problem, he was just fighting for his life. But hundred meters up ahead, Elli found another fan victim and poked the guy with her hasty tattoo signature. Jeez, even in panic mode, she was sticking to the mission.
“Hey Bam, music’s over here,” the robot voice said and brought him back.
“Don’t worry, I never forget to take out the trash.”
“Come and try.”
Vlogger vs. armored fan freak. What a match. Roman Stax got one hell of a climax moment here. Bam wondered about the current live views before he dislocated the armored guy’s arm. Cracky dee crack. The freak screamed, the voice jammer made it sound like a robot with his iron balls cut off. Bam took his baton and posed in front of the Vorb above.
“You got Bam-ified.”
Perfect pose. Solid line. It was going to sent him lots of ‘luvs’. Bam kicked the grounded guy again and again. Dashed off and left the psycho alone. Hundred meters in front of the sidewalk, Bam caught up with Elli and Whizzard. The crooked vlogger pushed two pieces of napkin into his nostrils to prevent his nose from bleeding. He shut up for the first time. Elli didn’t.
“Who is this psychopat
h? He looks like a comic book villain.”
“Yeah, the druggy and twisted version of it,” Whizzard said.
Bam breathed in.
“I don’t know, but he seems to be obsessed with Violet Gear.”
Elli’s ears perked up, her eyes grew big.
“Are you sure?”
“Do you want to go back and check?”
She shook her head. She saw the guy’s tattoo.
“Let’s go.”
The three vloggers moved on, Bam even helped Whizzard walk down the street. The Vorbs continued filming, and Bam continued to look good on cam. Millions were watching. Elli snorted.
“Let’s hurry up, men, we need to move on.”
She manned pole position, Bam supported Whizzard. It worked, but not fast enough for Elli.
“You’re slowing me down.”
“You know, you could shut up for a moment and help us.”
“You’re both grown men, don’t be pathetic.”
“Then stop complaining.”
Bam increased his walking speed, but Whizzard was as useful as a sack of iron stones. No wonder. When Bam turned to his body, he saw how much blood the crooked vlogger lost. A little crimson river flooded down his legs and spread onto the asphalt. While their team was running out of time, Whizzard was running out of blood.
94
Help was needed, fast.
That’s why the three vloggers walked towards a convenience store closer to the city. The glass doors with the steel frames slid to part the way for them. Bam carried Whizzard inside, headed straight for the brown kid behind the desk. Plop, plop, plob, drops of blood dripped on the ground and left a crimson trail. Bam cleared his throat.
“Hey boy, do you have any first aid? It’s an emergency.”
The kid looked up from his eScroll. Female screams sounded from it. ‘Ahhs’ and ‘ohhhs’ and ‘yeah yeah yeahhhhs’. The kid’s half-asleep expression transformed into a bewildered look.
“Holy moly, what happened to you guys?”
Bam ignored the question, pointed towards Whizzard’s wound. Because blood spoke for itself.
“Do you have any first aid? We pay.”
The kid put his video on hold and nodded. Jumped over the counter, walked all three vloggers around the aisle and led them to a shelf with branded first aid.
“Feel free.”
Bam nodded, lay down Whizzard on the freshly wept floor, grabbed the first aid kit and ripped it from the package. Fumbled with the disinfection spray and pulled out the Quickheal cream.
“You two help me.”
He pointed to the store owner and Elli and instructed them to hold Whizzard.
Elli groaned but finally did as he commanded. The vendor kid complied as well and smiled.
“Do I know you guys? You seem familiar.”
Bam ripped Whizzard’s shirt and sprayed the wound on his ribcage region with the disinfectant sprayer. He took the Quickheal foam and concealed the surface of the wound. In a matter of seconds, the bleeding stopped.
“Are you better now?”
Whizzard moaned.
“Feel like a million credits.”
Bam ignored the vlogger’s useless one-liner as usual and wiped the surplus cream away with the scraper. The vendor kid watched him in silence and double-sized eyes.
“You are pretty good at this, done it before?
“More than a dozen life times. It’s unfortunately part of my job.”
The kid nodded.
“You’re a doc or paramedic?”
“I’m a professional crasher.”
The kid’s eyes grew big. He covered his mouth.
“I knew you seemed familiar, I’ve seen you online, right?”
Bam nodded but kept his eyes on the job. The kid pointed up at the shop’s ceiling, where the Vorbs floated and filmed them all.
“Wowzee.”
He jumped up and pointed fingers at Bam.
“You’re vloggers from the Blogbuster, right?”
Bam finished the wound concealment.
“Yeah.”
The kid smiled with endless fire inside.
“Wow, wow, wow, and now you’re here, at my family’s shop. That’s epic man, so epic. Are you on a mission right now? Is this getting filmed? Are we live?”
He needed no answer, because the Vorbs near the ceiling descended and took a close-up snapshot of them.
“Wow, we are live.”
The kid waved at the Vorb lens, posed like a video game character who won a major battle.
“Hello mom, hello dad, look who crashed into our shop today. We’re Internet-famous now.”
He turned his glance back down to the vloggers.
“I think I even know your names.”
He looked at Elli.
“You’re Elli Mental, the vlogger with all the crazy psychological video stuff. I’ve seen this one vid where you made the guy eat his puke. It was sick. In a good way.”
Elli nodded with a smirk. The kid moved his finger to Bam.
“You’re Bam, the guy who likes to crash into things. I remember your bike stunt — the drone slam was sick.”
He stopped his finger in front of Whizzard, who still lay down and moaned.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are. A civilian who’s part of a rescue mission?”
Sweat dropped from Whizzard’s face, but he managed to squeak out another smile.
“I’m the guy with the cool one-liners.”
Bam and Elli sighed, but the employee kid kept his grin.
“Can I get an digital signature? Please, pu-lease. Man, this is so exciting.”
Bam helped Whizzard back up.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said.
Bam saw the blood trail going zigzag on the floor tiles. It looked like a horror scene from a murder flick. The kid just shrugged.
“No worry man, I gotta clean up this place anyways. Now what about the signature?”
Bam saw the kid pulling up a digital page on his eScroll. He signed a digital handwriting with his index finger. The kid’s eyes were about to pop out.
“So cool, and now you, Elli.”
She rolled her eyes but followed up.
The kid’s face shone brighter than the screen on his eScroll.
“Now a 3D selfie.”
“Please, we’re in a hurry,” she said.
“One selfie, come on now.”
The kid grabbed Bam, Elli and Whizzard, pushed them close. Activated the eScroll’s cam and shot a 3D hologram selfie. It looked like the group pic no one wanted. Still, the kid gleamed with a smile that wanted to break out of his face.
“Sick, guys, so sick.”
Elli chimed in.
“But we have to get going now, or we’ll lose our advantage.”
Bam nodded, looked at Whizzard.
“Can you walk?”
“I can try.”
“Good enough.”
He helped him up with Elli, while the kid marveled at his vlogger selfie image. Serious drooling ensued.
The vloggers walked parallel to the aisle, headed for the exit, when a clonk clonk sound echoed through the store.
“What’s clonk clonk?” the employee kid said.
A cylinder-shaped object rolled onto the floor and emitted smoke that blew through the aisles.
Bam shouted.
“Smoke grenade.”
95
“Take cover.”
Bam grabbed Elli and Whizzard, pushed them down on the ground. The grenade rolled along the floor and left a smoking trail, before it blazed a cloud of thick smoke throughout the store. Blogbuster battlemode, yet again.
Whizzard held his wound and whined. Bam shook his head.
“Someone is really mad at us.”
Elli rolled her eyes, pushed herself against the aisle.
“Good observation, Sherlock.”
The smoke spread across the store, devoured everything in its path. The ominous white layer clouded everyo
ne’s vision. The store kid joined the vloggers and took cover behind the food aisle. Bam addressed him.
“Where’s the emergency exit?”
The kid coughed and pointed towards the left, which was smoked out.
“Take us there, now.”
The kid nodded and crawled forward, Bam and his fellow vloggers followed him. Except for their loud breathing, silence settled in. Interrupted only by the coughing, and that creepy robot voice ripping through the air.
“Helloooo, my little vloggers. I’m back.”
Bam would recognize that voice in a million lifetimes. The armored freak hath returned, and brought a new level of craziness with him.
“How the hell did he find us?” Whizzard said.
Elli snorted.
“I’m guessing through the flashy blood trail you left behind.”
“Ah, that,” Whizzard said.
They crawled forward in a line, close to the wall where the freezers stood. The smoke appeared so dense, Bam lost sight of the person moving in front of him. At least the kid knew his store inside out. When they reached the emergency exit, Bam turned around and noticed a silhouette walking through the cloud.
“Keep your heads down.”
“Are you playing hero again?” Whizzard said.
“Do you want to die instead?”
Whizzard put on a half-smile.
“No objections.”
Bam dashed towards the silhouette. The freak wanted to evade, but Bam went slam. No more time for talking, this guy was in for violence, and he was going to get it from Bam.
Free on the house.
Free on the face.
Bam = punch = freak’s visor.
Impressive punch from Bam’s side that made the armored guy lose balance, but just for a split second. He regained posture, and aimed his jabs at Bam’s ribcage. He used his arms to shield himself, but the freak wore steel-plated gloves, and Bam felt every one of them beating on his skin. He clutched his teeth and suppressed his scream, the ongoing adrenaline helped mitigate some of the ache. He evaded the last punch, took the freak’s arm and went Judo on him. With an elegant move, he rammed the guy into a nearby aisle. Special crash effect.