Episode 099

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            “Every time this kid whines, I’m reminded that vasectomies only require local anesthetic and a steel-toed boot.”

Morgan Webb, X-Play

 

 

            Morgan stared at Alan like he was staring at a trash bag that had broken halfway to the dumpster.  As he descended the steps from the main entrance, he surveyed the dozen knights, all dressed in red and black.  He noted each one, appraising their position and their weapons.  With disdain, he shook his head.

            At the doorway behind Morgan, Rebecca stayed by the side, clinging to the shadows just beyond the edge of the light from the outside.  With a fearful look, she remained hidden.

            Morgan reached the bottom of the steps, for the first time noting the clubbers.  Gathered at the walls, they waited with impossible patience for the dance floor to be freed up.  None spoke, none moved anymore than was necessary.  They stood still as if waiting for elevators to transport them back to their world of music.

            He looked up into the light fixtures, almost two stories above.  They shown through the darkness in a vast array of hues and textures, creating shapes of fused light on the floor.  Inside the light, the music played on, the distant melody lost to the beat of the techno music.

            “Who’s this guy?” Matt asked to Ryoko, forgetting about the wounded Roland.  By the bar, Eliot and Donovan, along with the rest of the knights, watched Morgan, unable to take their eyes away from the predatory aggressor.  Alan disengaged from Erik, the other knights keeping him defensively over Richard.

            “Oh thank god,” Roland sighed, slumping to his knees.  Across from him, on the floor, passed out, Sydney lay unmoving in Ryoko’s grasp.

            Matt looked down at Roland, confused by his relief.  He looked at Morgan and shoved Roland to the ground.  “You must be the big dog,” he said condescendingly, walking towards Morgan.  He strutted confidently towards the former knight.  “You’re the hot sh!t in this town, right?”  Morgan stared.

            “Matt,” Alan cautioned across the distance.

            “Who is he?” Ryoko asked.

            “That’s Morgan,” Eliot said, his usual deranged confidence gone.  “Be careful, guys.”

            “Are you?” Matt went on, approaching Morgan, crowding his space.  “You the big dog?  Aw-aw!” he began to bark.  “Aw-aw!  Aw-aw!”

            Faster than lightning, Morgan’s hand shot out, grabbing Matt’s opened mouth, crushing down on his mandible with his fingers.  Matt froze in debilitating pain, screaming at the top of his lungs.  As the knight dropped to his knees in paralyzing agony, Morgan glared right at Alan.  With nothing but his hold on Matt’s jaw, Morgan tossed him away as if discarding an empty bottle.  Matt slammed into the steps and slid to the ground; panting as the agony was slow to subside.

            Moran stepped onto the dance floor and started towards Alan.  He got halfway before Ryoko stepped between the two.  The Japanese dame stood with her gaze tall, unfearfully staring into Morgan’s eyes.  Morgan locked glares with her, squaring his shoulders.

            Alan swallowed nervously, aware of the stillness that had befallen the dance club.  He glanced to the doorway, for the first time noting Rebecca.  The two saw each other and Rebecca was still.  Alan held her gaze for a moment, then looked back at Morgan.  He was about to speak when he looked at Rebecca again.  He saw Morgan now with a new optimism.  “Ryoko,” he called over the music, smiling.  “Stand down.”

            She didn’t move.

            Neither did Morgan.

            Alan came up from behind her, gently moving her away.  “You must be the infamous Morgan Brandy…”

            “Let them go,” he interrupted, setting his fierce eyes on Alan.  The knight couldn’t help but step back.  “I don’t give a damn what you do to the Blue Knights.”

            “Thanks,” Donovan called sarcastically.

            “But Roland and Sydney are leaving.”

            “They started a fight,” Alan said.

            “What are you?  Twelve?” Morgan barked, startling Alan.  “I don’t give a damn what they did.  They’re leaving.”

            “Or else?” Ryoko asked.  Next to her, Alan closed his eyes, visibly trying to keep control of himself and of the situation.

            Morgan turned his attention to the dame.  “Are we getting to that point in the conversation?” he asked, semi-rhetorically.  “We’re going to start hurling around what all we’re going to do to one another.  ‘I’m going to punch you in the face’.  ‘I’m going to slice your hand off’.  That childish crap.”  He looked back at Alan.  “We’re leaving.  You got a problem with that, stop us.”  He looked Ryoko in the eyes.  “If you can.”

            Without giving them a breath, he turned and started for the door.  He glanced at Roland.  “Get Sydney,” he said with anger.  Roland looked back at Donovan.  The British knight nodded and broke through the ranks of Red Knights to help Erik and Richard.  Roland scrambled over to Sydney, nearly dragging her onto his shoulders.

            Hobbling for the door, Roland and Donovan followed Morgan to the exit.  At the top of the stairs, Morgan saw Rebecca waiting.  He glanced from her, down to Alan, and back.  When he looked at her, and she at him, he narrowed his eyes with anger, but said nothing.  Turning his back on the gathered knights, he stepped out into the night.

 
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