Chapter 3 - Piss-Poor Nicaraguan Freedom Fight- I mean, “Terrorists”
“Dude, forget the shoe shining, my feet are killing me. Gimme a massage.”
“I’m good bro.”
“FUCK!”
We had been hiking on the barely visible rock trail for maybe a few hours, heading in the direction that Ryan had said was the correct way after pulling out a comically large map from his comically small shirt pocket. After reading the map, brow furrowed and drawing undiscovered calculations in the dirt, deep in thought, he dramatically pointed a finger in a seemingly random direction and exclaimed, “Thataway!” then promptly set off.
It took me thirty minutes to catch up to him.
Now, we plodded along in the dirt, watching in dismay as the sun set lower.
And lower.
And lower.
And even lower.
With no sight of home base.
Eventually, I got fed up.
“Alright! That’s it! I’m going on a hunger strike!” I plopped myself down in the dirt and tried my best to make myself hungrier. Unfortunately, I did succeed.
“Dude, there's literally no point. Who’s gonna care that you’re goin’ on a strike? The sun? That bitch is already loooooong gone buddy.” Ryan sneered. I fucking hate Ryan.
He wasn’t lying. The sun had practically disappeared over the horizon, and the dense forest we were in was shrouded in darkness.
“Either way, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.” I unslung my pack from my shoulders and took out my MRE packet, or as I liked to call it, Monty’s Mystery Mix™. Ryan sat down beside me and pulled out the emergency fire starters and lighter. Before long, we had a small fire. Not too small, not too big, just enough. A good size really. Too big simply hurts you, and too small you can barely feel it.
Anyway, we ate our MREs in a rare silence. It was Spaghetti O’ flavored, which is surprisingly different from the way normal, non O’ed spaghetti tastes.
“Sooooooooo…” Ryan began.
“Nah I’m good.”
Ryan continued despite my assertion. “Why do you think we’re here?”
I shrugged. “How should I know? I’m just the dude with the MREs.”
Ryan sighed. “Are you like the town dumbass or something?”
“Pretty much.”
Ryan gave me a look that said I wouldn’t sleep well tonight. “Let’s think. Like for real, let's think. Where were we when we got transported?”
“Nicaragua.”
“And what’s so special about Nicaragua?”
“Nothing.”
Ryan went quiet for a moment. Then, I had an idea.
“Hold on. What if, like, we got captured or transported to this place because we were in Nicaragua? And because nothing goes on in this shithole, whoever transported us thought we were Nicaraguans or some shit, and went like, ‘man I’m sure nobody will miss these losers,’ and now we’re, like, trapped?”
Ryan stared at me. Then, a smile slowly formed on his lips.
“Holy shit, you’re right! You must be the smartest fucking person to have ever existed!”
I smugly smiled. “I’m, like, Einstein or some shit. And now that we know this, nothing can stop us! Even if it appears right in front of us, all magical and shit!”
Just then, a huge blue portal appeared right in front of us. Dammit. Just when I thought I had them on the ropes.
Ryan and I looked in awe as the blue portal fizzled and crackled, small bolts of electricity zapping off of the edges and hitting the ground. I felt the hairs on my arm raise, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Then, a man stepped out.
Or not really a man, it was another one of those furry cosplayers, with wolf ears and a whole-ass tail. He was holding a staff with a glowing blue crystal at the top, and the whole thing had vines hanging off of it n’ shit. Real Last Of Us type shit. Then the portal closed.
The furry dude muttered and shook the staff, waving around a cylinder that was covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics or some fancy History teacher type shit. Then, he turned around and saw us, and froze.
He looked at me.
He looked at Ryan.
Ryan looked at me.
I looked at Ryan.
We nodded.
And had our rifles out in half a second.
“Drop the weapons quickly! Hands on the floor!”
“Put your hands in the air and no sudden movements!”
“GUNGUNGUN!”
The furry looked very scared and very eager to make some sudden running-away-movements, but once Ryan moved forward and yanked the staff away from him (while calling the defenseless man a bitch for some reason), he looked a lot less eager to ‘turn tail’.
“Alrighty, what is this thing?” Ryan fumbled with the staff for a moment, then declared loudly, “I give up!” He then tossed the thing at me. “You try it, you’re the nerd.”
“C’mon man…” I said softly under my breath, then hefted the staff. However, it slipped from my grip, and knocked against the cylinder-looking-thing three times, with coincidentally perfect timing in between the thumps. Then, the portal opened up again.
It gave Ryan such a scare that he accidentally pulled the trigger of his gun.
The gun that was aimed at the poor defenseless furry dude.
Unfortunately, furries aren’t bulletproof, so the round ripped straight through his chest and sent him toppling backwards.
“...”
“...”
“... Damn” We both said in unison. Then we both stepped through the portal without giving a shit.