Escape from the Chicken Coop on a Cutter

While this sublime spectacle was taking place above the skies of the glorious city of Jokyo, a story of a completely different kind was unfolding in the decaying town of Whorecouver, which shamefully huddles in the west of the vile country of Analda.

At that very moment, on the bank of a shit-hole river with the strange name of Phaser, sat a thirty-six-year-old guy who was dressed in a shabby black suit with a long red tie - the same as all the representatives of the bar association of the seedy town of Whorecouver.

The guy was squatting and looking at the dirty waters of the shit-river that flowed right in front of him. He could have even touched this water, he was sitting so close to it now, but his sense of beauty was so strong that just thinking about it made his face immediately distort into a grimace of disgust.

Words simply couldn't describe his feelings - they were too strong to be publicly revealed. But one thing was for sure - this guy hated the place he was in now. Hated it to such an extent that he was ready to do anything - even break the law. And that's exactly what he was preparing for now.

It's worth mentioning that this was far from the first time the idea of committing a crime had crossed his mind. And what thoughts! He had already managed to make a mess of things in Whorecouver, and, curiously, had never fallen into the clutches of the cops!

Whether evil forces favored him, or he had some rare ability to escape punishment, but whatever the case, Richard Nigel had never fallen into the hands of justice in his entire life. And that is why on this day he decided to commit another crime, which was to become the last in this city - the fact is that Dick decided to leave decaying Analda and escape to The Omen Ica, where, as he expected, he would finally be able to get into the world.

His plan was simple - to sail along the Phaser River to The Omen Ican town of Spermeattle and, as they say, to lie low there without any negative consequences. Dick Nigel didn't even think about the problems with crossing the border, because he looked at all these geopolitical hassles like a soldier looks at a louse.

He was much more worried about the river police chasing him, and he shouldn't forget about food for the trip either. Dick had already taken care of the latter - he had spent the last few weeks robbing grocery stores and hiding supplies right on the bank of the shit-hole river where he was currently sitting. All that was left was to find transportation, and that was it, half the job was done.

As for transportation, Dick had some thoughts on the matter. Or rather, they had occurred to him this morning, when he was sitting in his shelter, looking out the window that looked out onto the Phaser, and suddenly saw a small white launch moored to the shore.

This sight struck Dick so with its beauty that he was ready to run towards it at full speed that very minute, but out of a sense of cold calculation he waited until lunch, which made sense, since there is no better time to escape from vile Analda than lunchtime!

And that was why Dick was now sitting by the shore, casting inquiring glances at the boat, playing with his small dagger, which was a real work of art: its stainless steel blade was about twenty centimeters long, and the handle was worthy of a separate conversation, because in shape it resembled a gray humanoid demon with tightly knit legs, arms crossed on his chest, and remarkable gilded bat wings that grew from the demon's shoulders.

The image of this remarkable demon was completed by a snake, also gilded, which wrapped around his figure around his legs, belt and chest, and its small and detailed head rested on the blade itself.

Dick had a feeling he'd seen a composition like this somewhere before, and he remembered - of course, the exact same grey demon with a snake coiled around his body was on the cover of a 3D computer action game called "SeXeN II", the box of which he'd seen on the counter of a retro-game store! But Dick had never managed to play the game itself, for the simple reason that there was no room to put a computer in his tiny corner where he lived like a dog.

In a way, Dick felt sorry, because the last time he saw this game, the disc with it was sold at a fifty percent discount due to the fact that this game came out almost half a century ago. But since he was not a big fan of computer entertainment, preferring books to them, he regretted this only insofar as, especially since he hoped that, having left nauseating Whorecouver, he would still be able to make up for lost time and go wild, buy himself the coolest and most powerful computer and download the most accurate new releases of recent years from torrent trackers.

But now he had a completely different task before him: he had to get to the boat unnoticed and, having made his way on board, make sure that everything was in order and, having dragged all the food out of the nook, wave goodbye to the vile little town.

It was for this operation that Dick Nigel pulled out his dagger from his belt, which he was very proud of, because, as you might have guessed, he did not pay a penny for it, instead committing a daring robbery of an exhibition of bladed weapons, which took place a month ago in the Whorecouver center.

Although it was hard to call his act impudent - all he did was burst into the pavilion with lightning speed, smashed the display case with a quick and precise blow, snatched the dagger and immediately ran away. However, several strange circumstances later came to light, for example, it was completely unclear why the strange word "Megiddo" was written on the blade of the dagger, although there was no "Mega-beard" on this dagger - the demon figurine was devoid of any hair, so it is completely unclear why the gunsmith wrote such an idiotic name on it, and also made a bunch of mistakes in such a simple word. Shame and disgrace to the anonymous master!

Whatever the case, the robbery of the pavilion was accomplished in a matter of seconds, and Dick Nigel was proud of the fact that he managed to pull off the plan in such a way that the cops have never been on his trail since.

And so he was now the proud owner of a fancy bladed weapon that he hoped would serve him well in his one-year-old boat scam. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing, it was just that killing was the only surefire way to silence an unwanted witness.

And Dick had no doubt that this most unwanted witness would sooner or later stand in his way, because in the morning he had noticed two young guys on the boat, one of whom was a sullen brunette, and the other a cheerful blond.

There was nothing else memorable about these two, and therefore it was unlikely that anyone would look for them if both or one of them died after meeting his dagger, and their boat disappeared without a trace.

Thus thought Dick to himself, who, playing with his dagger, had already risen from the ground and was slowly, waddling, walking towards the cutter. Coming closer to its sides, he stopped and listened - not a sound came from the deck, which Dick considered a good omen, or, as the Romans liked to say, "omen".

Then he looked up at the stern of the boat: there stood one of those two, namely the cheerful blond. Dick saw him from behind, so he couldn't make out his face, but it was obvious that this guy had eaten a lot of porridge as a child, and not only that, judging by his hips, which were a bit wide for a man.

The blond was dressed all in black; in addition, he had a small guitar case of average quality hanging on his back... In short, he was a typical student who, as Dick understood, had gone to the river to drink with a friend and play guitar.

And at that moment Dick Nigel was so filled with hatred for this guy that without thinking twice he climbed over the side of the boat and stepped onto its deck. The student was apparently hard of hearing, because he did not hear Dick's steps, and he turned around only when the latter had already come close to him and was preparing to strike with a dagger, which was supposed to solve the problem with the unwanted witness.

The guy, seeing an unfamiliar man in a black suit and red tie walking towards him, suddenly turned so pale that he looked like a wax figure, which, as Dick knew, was the main attraction of Madame Chlusso's museum. The blond backed away, but tripped over some box and fell right at Dick's feet.

"Brother!" he suddenly shouted as Dick leaned towards him.

"Don't call me brother, the Beast can't have a brother!" Dick muttered through his teeth a phrase he had overheard in some shitty horror movie about shotaboys, which, I think, was called "Damned: The Fuck Omen 2".

With these words, Dick Nigel plunged his dagger into the guy's throat. The wheeze that escaped the blond's mouth was sweeter to him than the sexiest moans in porn movies. Not because Dick had a hard-on for guro or dismemberment, but only because his success in his mission to escape from the dirty town of Whorecouver depended on the death of this fat chubby.

As they say, nothing sexual, just criminal! Dick twirled the blade of the dagger in the blond's throat with pleasure, feeling through the blade how the unfortunate man's Adam's apple moved up and down with each turn of the blade.

When the poor guy's throat finally stopped wheezing and silence set in, Dick did not deny himself the pleasure of pulling the dagger out of the victim's body and wiping the blade on the black T-shirt of the now dead student.

Then Dick, after thinking for a moment, hid the dagger in his belt and, straining himself, lifted the corpse of his recent unwanted witness above his head and threw it overboard like a sack of potatoes.

The distinct splash of water overboard, as the killer hoped, was still not loud enough for anyone on the shore to hear it, but after all, Dick had not been sitting there all morning, patrolling the area for passers-by for nothing! In other words, no one saw the murder and its aftermath.

At least, that's what Dick thought, who in the heat of his anger didn't even notice that the murdered man's friend, that same sullen brunette, was standing at that very moment on the shore not far from the barn where Dick had been hiding.

Apparently, the cry that the blond man let out before his death managed to reach his ears, and so when he saw that the body of his friend (or maybe his brother, if you believe the words of the murdered man?) was thrown overboard, he, without a second's hesitation, pulled out his Zoppo mobile phone and began dialing the number of the coastal police.

But Dick Nigel didn't see any of this, because after throwing the blond's body overboard, he immediately forgot that he really needed to bring the supplies he had stolen from the supermarkets on board the boat, and instead immediately began to prepare the boat for immediate departure. First, he opened the gas tank hatch and made sure there was enough fuel in it.

"Well done, students, you took care of this for me," he thought, feeling a surge of adrenaline.

Then he looked into the battery compartment - everything was in its place.

"Well, I think everything will be fine," he whispered.

With these words, Dick took the key, which he had previously pulled out of the dead man's pocket, and, inserting it into the ignition, turned it a couple of times with hands trembling with excitement.

The first attempts were unsuccessful - the engine only wheezed, like that blond before his death. Dick felt fear squeeze his heart.

"What am I doing wrong?" he muttered with a fear that was not characteristic of him.

However, Dick wasn't going to give up, remembering his father's words: "Don't panic, sonnie, just figure it out." Encouraging himself with this memory, Dick reached for the fuel priming handle and began to turn it.

It seemed like it would never end, but eventually he finally felt the pump fill. Dick put the key back in the ignition and turned it harder.

"Hurray, we're off!" he couldn't help but shout happily.

Yes, the engine came to life and started, and the sound of it filled Dick with pride. Without bothering to check the instruments, which he understood no more than an octopus understood perfume, he quickly put the gear into gear, and the boat he had won in an unfair fight slowly sailed away from the shore.

He didn't know where to sail. More precisely, he knew the destination, but he had no idea what routes he would take to get there. But in his head there was a feeling that there had been nothing more unusual in his life than this trip on the river.

He even forgot to watch his course and speed. He just floated forward, and everything was fine - until a sound like a mosquito buzzed in his ears. It was so faint and distant - but still, it made Dick flinch in surprise...

And then it dawned on him: it was the coast police! They were still far away, judging by the volume of the sound, but sooner or later they would catch up with him! With this thought, he pressed the accelerator sharply to increase the engine power.

Alas, it was too late - as expected, the coast police boat was approaching quickly. It was already very close, and Dick realized - now he would be caught. And then he remembered about his dagger.

"We'll have to take out a couple of cops," he muttered through his teeth, pulling the blade from his belt.

He decided that he would defend his freedom to the last. But, as it turned out, he overestimated his strength. When the coast police boat was very close and its nose poked into the side of Dick's boat, he realized that he could not physically withstand five thugs armed with pistols.

One of the cops was already on deck, and his gun was pointed straight at Dick's face. The latter didn't even have time to get scared - he just felt a blow to the neck with a rubber baton, which was dealt to him by the second cop who came to his partner's aid, and that was it, it was over as quickly as it had begun. Dick lost consciousness.