'Simon' Says

"Welcome everyone, to the Forty-third annual Gala of The Galaxy Globes! Tonight, we will be celebrating the feats done by the Council of Peers for a year quite well done! And as always, we will be hosting an auction first! As you all made your way here, you were given the opportunity to put in a starting price, and as we do every year, the most common number will be that price! The first lot on the line, pull up the holograms, gentlemen, is an old 21st century Terran home! Rumor has it that the legendary Viceroy Hiro Shundo was murdered there, making this piece the perfect work of art for your home, while adding a bit of the creepy factor, huh? It will be starting at exactly 4.5 million credits! Do I have any biters?"

The Europanain man on stage continued to spout on and on about the god damn house. 

We get it, it's fucking haunted. So what?

Quick and witty had always been Fledge's thing. He'd known how to talk his way out of or into any scenario. He knew how to rile up a crowd with just one sentence. That was Fledge's power. Every Terran had powers. At least, since the Outer Ones visited the System. Even his mom, who passed away when she gave birth to him, had powers. Ironically, she was the System's strongest woman, but yet, she couldn't handle childbirth. Ironic. Fledge had never known his father, either. 

But that didn't matter to him, as he had taught himself everything, from how to gain people's attention, to how to avoid fights, to how to make easy money without lifting a finger. Fledge Winkler was a reporter for the Universe Media Corporation, the mass media company for the System that produces all the media, whether news or television, for the solar system. He liked to tell everyone that he was a good reporter, or at least so he thought. His boss, Carl, a goliath of a Terran, would beg to differ, however.

"Fledge, man, what's gotten into you lately?" 

This came from Fledge's best friend, whom Fledge had hired to be his bodyguard, as Carl wouldn't just hire the man. His name was Maxwurt, Francis Maxwurt Donovan. A bachelor himself, Max had always tried to be a lady's man. From grade school, Max had been trying to gain the female gaze, but no matter how hard he tried, or how muscular or toned he became, no female creature wanted him. Not even the Cretins from Io. Apparently, even those creatures found Max to be hideous, though to Fledge, Max was a conventionally attractive Terran. It made Fledge jealous of Max, but Fledge had at least dated other women before, and had actually felt the warm, wet embrace of the inside of a woman. Max could not relate. Fledge had even gotten asked on a date by a Venarian before, which was unheard of, especially for a Terran like himself. The most ironic part of the whole ordeal is that Max's power was supposed to be his charisma. Apparently, according to the texts, he should have women fawning over him all the time, but clearly he had a severe case of the opposite, whatever that may be. Maybe his power should've been named 'The Repellent.'

"I'm quite alright, Max. Perhaps we should conduct the interview with Madame 'S' Galaxy?" 

Max nodded in agreement, but Fledge decided to tease him a bit.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky this time and she'll take you on a date?"

Fledge winked at Max, and he bellowed a deep belly laugh in response, as he shook his head.

"Like hell that smokin' hot woman would want me. But that ain't mean I can't try!"

Max bumped Fledge with his elbow, almost sending Fledge to the floor.

The two began to saunder their way through the long, people-filled concert hall over to the Venarian, who had recently been crowned 'The Galaxy's Most Beautiful.' As they approached, S turned in their direction and scoffed, upturning her nose from them, her soft, makeup covered mole on her long, illustrious face twitching when she turned, her narrow hips swaying while the sequins on her dress momentarily blinded Fledge. Her pretty, thin lips were downturned into a scowl, and her eyebrows furrowed. It was clear she was distressed about something. A boyfriend, perhaps? No, no man would ever be worth a creature of her stature and status.

"I've got no time to give to the press," she said sourly to Fledge, turning back towards her previous conversation, with a well built Jupitar with an extremely toned body. For only a split second, Fledge felt jealousy, before anger filled its place.

"And I've got no time for an attitude."

Fledge muttered as he wheeled around to leave, and even more quietly whispered, his voice hardly making sound.

"Livin' up to the stereotypes, I guess. Only a snarky bitch could ever be Madame Galaxy." 

She whirled around and her long, pasty, yet gentle arms grabbed Fledge's shoulder with her long fingers, Maxwurt pulling out his blaster and training it on the woman with the speed of the 'cowboys' Fledge had read in his novels.

"Excuse me, you uncouth plebeian?" 

S hissed loudly, enough for the Martian man playing the pianoschord on stage to stop. Fledge slowly turned back around to face S, brushing her four-fingered hand off his shoulder, and snickering while doing so. By now the entire crowd had turned their attention to this encounter, the room dead silent. Some gasped, others making their way out of there.

"I suggest you put that blaster down, guard. I have four men with weapons trained upon your very head as we speak." 

S cocked her head up, as if looking down upon Fledge and the massive Max, despite the fact that she was only a few inches taller than Max. To Fledge, who was 5 foot 9, S was a very tall woman. 

Maybe, like, seven feet tall? Fuck, she's huge.

It was hard to tell exactly. Max slowly brought down his weapon, tucking it back in its holster.

"Fine," Max said through gritted teeth, "but don't expect me to 'play nicely' with you. I've had enough of women telling me to put it away." 

Fledge put his forehead in his palm, disappointed. 

Now is not the time, Max. And why the actual fuck would you say something like that? And to a person of her class?

"Now, Madame Galaxy, would you please be so kind as to–"

That's when they heard it. A gunshot. It emanated a loud noise and it echoed throughout the concert hall, but Fledge could pick out exactly where it was coming from. The noise, however, rang in everybody's ears in the hall. Suddenly, in the resounding silence, a female Mercurian shrieked, and people began screaming and running every which way. Fledge had turned to face the sound, and without turning away from it, he said to S, 

"We'll talk more later. For now, I've got a bigger fish to fry." 

But when he turned towards S to acknowledge her response, she no longer stood there. Fledge rolled his eyes. 

Of course. Selfish whore.

He turned away and began to push past people to get closer to the source of the noise, to determine just what exactly was going on here. That's when he heard it again. Another gunshot. From the exact same place.

"Maxwurt! Where in the absolute fuck are you!?" 

Fledge screamed as loud as he could, hoping Max could hear him over the screams and shrieks of all the other creatures. Fledge, as he pushed his way through the crowd, scanned all the faces trying to find Max's, or at least some big ass dude, all the while trying to keep people from stepping on his newly purchased Maddisons. They were, after all, four hundred credits, and still fresh from the box. Hell, he'd bought them for this occasion. Fledge, pushing aside the fear of ruining his perfectly new shoes, returned his mind back to the gunshots. 

Was this some kind of murder? An assassination gone wrong? Or just an accident? But if it was an accident, why were there two shots?

Lost in thought, he continued to struggle through the unyielding crowd of strange bodies, everything from Martians to Jupitars to Plutonians. As he blindly pushed through, Fledge could've sworn he'd accidentally hit three women's tits, smacked a man's dick, and accidentally slapped a short Ionian. 

To top it all off, some female Terran with a strange power suddenly appeared directly in front of Fledge, he smacked right into her, giving the woman an accidental unwanted peck on her forehead. The Terran vanished before Fledge could apologize. 

Sheesh, who knew people were so… weird. But why?

He shivered at the inappropriate thoughts that entered his head.

 Nevermind. I don't even wanna know.

Finally, the crowd began to thin, and Fledge could now see through the crowd, and the door beyond.

Everyone had been running from this door just ahead, if my intuition serves me correctly, or so I think. Well, obviously, if this is the direction everyone was running from.

Fledge slowed to a halt in front of the door, trying to catch his breath. Despite the fact that it was only a hundred meters or so, it felt like he had just sprinted that whole distance while being held down by a fatass hundred and fifty pound child. After a moment, where Fledge could finally breathe and move at the same time, he pushed open the door, and he saw a room plunged in darkness, the only light was whatever was spilling in from the hall where he just was.

The only thing in the dark room that was lit up was a large puddle of blood, and a streak of it that led away from the light. As Fledge took a step forward to investigate, a shadowy figure snatched Fledge, and covered his mouth to muffle his scream. But Fledge wasn't worried about screaming. He was kicking his dumbass for forgetting to breathe. And just as suddenly as he was captured, his lungs started to burn from the amount of oxygen he wasn't getting. Fledge tried to breathe through his nose, but his nose was clogged. 

Shit! 

The figure kept dragging Fledge further and further through the dark, and as Fledge passed out, he confused the enshrouding darkness with him already passing out, but as soon as the thought entered his head, he was gone.

---

Fledge opened his eyes to see the dull, gray clouds that hung in the sky, and the towering buildings that gently pulled on them. He could even hear the soft pitter patter of rainfall over the roaring of the cars, and all of the advertisements that filled the familiar city of Olde York. He had to be dreaming. Olde York was nothing more than a distant memory to him, a recurring dream at best.

As Fledge stood up and brushed the dust and water off of him, he was welcomed by the sheer cold of that town, and he was reminded of the old times when he and the other fosters would sled down the fallen side of the once great Empire State Building.

Olde York had once been given the title of 'new,' but in this age, it was anything but. Half of the buildings that stood a century ago had succumbed to the elements, as no engineer or architect could have predicted the sudden changes in Terra's climate. But from the ashes and resources of the old buildings, a new New York was built, one designed to weather the new elements, and last for all time. Fledge knew that it was all a hoax, though. If the old engineers had no idea this would happen, how do modern engineers know what will happen ten years from now? A hundred years, even?

Now, as Fledge looked out among the 'streets' of Olde York, he saw many old cars flying to and fro, and he spotted a neon advertisement that stuck with him since he was a young boy. Its logo was a simple one, a small rocket ship pointed at the stars, its tail streaming from Terra.

"Do you long for an adventure of a lifetime? Join Crystal Express, and explore where no human has gone before. Settle the solar system with your fellow colonists!"

Fledge sighed as he looked at the sign. An old memory, one of better, more exciting days. Fledge wished he could go back, and feel the snow and rushing wind as he went down the building again, but those days were behind him now. 

Besides, he doubted the one person he wanted to see, Madame Gyra, was still alive. The old hag was ill the last time he'd seen her anyway, and she always said she never believed in taking the 'Life Pill.' Said it was "An absolute fuckton of bullshit, those pills." And that was almost eight years ago now. Fledge knew she'd be in her nineties at this point if she were still around and kicking. Knowing her condition, though, Fledge was certain the illness had probably taken her.

Fledge truly enjoyed that woman's presence, though. Despite her unorthodox methods of teaching lessons, she was a kind and gentle woman at heart. And she was more of a mother than any other female role models of Fledge's.

Brushing off the sad thoughts of Gyra's probable passing, Fledge looked back up to the advertisement, and instantly recoiled in fear.

The logo had changed, as well as the slogan. Where there was once a simple rocket, it now displayed a foreboding eye, crying tears of neon blood, the text beneath it not any more comforting.

"Eight planets there are. Eight opportunities for death. Death for everyone. And you are no different, Fledge. See if you can stop me. I dare you."

Fledge shuddered as he read the message, and as he rubbed his eyes to see if it would change, he was met with a shadowed figure, their appearance vague and ambiguous. They began to speak, their voice not entirely one gender or the other, but rather, a host of all different kinds of voices, from all the species of the Home System.

"Fledge Winkler. I would wish you luck, but it seems you can do it all on your own. I'd like to see just how far you can go. See if you can catch me. Before I slaughter again. Or your own demise, whichever happens first. Heh, I'll be seeing you around…"

---

"Fuck. You!" 

The sound of shattering glass woke up Fledge. He sat up in a hospital bed, and as Fledge looked around, his vision blurry, he could faintly make out a large humanoid creature holding a smaller humanoidish creature, and smashing something into it, the shards falling to the ground.

"He better not die! If he dies, so do I! That was in the fucking contract! So wake his goddamn ass up or I'll end you here and now along with me!" 

Fledge realized through the haze that it was Max holding what he guessed to be a nurse. 

Wow, Max looks like Goliath in comparison to her. She must've told him I was dead. Boy, I bet she regrets saying that now. I'm surprised he didn't try flirting with her first. Eh, she'd probably turn him down anyway. Who am I kidding? Of course she'd turn his ugly ass down. 

"Max." 

Fledge tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse, and almost quiet. It came out as a barely audible whisper, but Max still heard it, and he whirled around to face Fledge, the nurse still in hand. Now Fledge could see clearly, or at least clear enough to finally see things, and Max was holding the nurse in one hand by her bosom, her breasts ready to fall out, and a broken glass canister of something in the other, and the nurse was bleeding from her head, her hands in front of her defensively, some tablet in one of her hands broken in two. Fledge sighed, once again disappointed.

Of course he grabbed her by her tits. Sex is never far from Max's mind. Too bad he'll never get it at this rate.

The Plutonian nurse did indeed look almost miniscule in comparison to Max. When Max saw Fledge sitting up in his bed, he dropped the nurse, who quickly scrambled away from her bully, and ran to Fledge, almost trampling the poor thing. 

He squeezed Fledge joyfully and whispered to him, panic still in his voice.

"Thank you for not dying. I don't want to die until I've at least lost my virginity. Got that?" 

Max burst into laughter, yet Fledge's insides were screaming in agony throughout the entire hug, and so Fledge could not respond. Fledge could've sworn his bones were breaking, and his lungs were about to pop. Max finally let go, and Fledge let out a soft groan of pain as he lifted up a hand to point at him jokingly, smiling a weak smile.

"Don't worry. I gotcha, pal." 

Max chuckled at his friend's joke, but quickly sobered up.

"How are you? You were hurt pretty damn bad when I found you. Your leg was beaten, your arms were both dislocated, and your heart wasn't quite beating properly. I say you were properly fucked. What happened?" 

Fledge tried to recall the events, but it was only just a faint blur, and it hurt his brain trying to pull those memories out.

"I, I don't know. To be more precise, I don't remember much at all. All I remember was that I walked into a dark room before something grabbed me. It felt like a big burly hand. Hairy, too, if I remember correctly. That's about all I can remember. Sorry, Max." 

Max looked unsatisfied at the answer Fledge just gave him. Fledge knew he would have to dive more into this once the police took care of it. Chances were that they'd get nowhere. He wanted to be the one to release the article on this story, because it seemed awfully juicy. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Absent-mindedly, Fledge replied, 

"Who is it?"

"Carl. Now let me in, you buffoons," a gruff voice said, from the other side of the door. Max quickly opened the door for him, while the nurse sprinted out the door, holding a bag of ice to her bleeding head. Her whimpers were almost as loud as the panging in Fledge's ears. Carl simply watched the woman go before stepping into the room. 

Carl was Fledge's boss. He gave the orders. He gave the assignments. Typically, he gave Fledge and Max the shitty ones, the ones that were boring, the ones that made just enough to make Fledge live paycheck to paycheck. Fledge didn't want to hear himself being reassigned to another shitty story. He wanted this new one, the one he was in this shitty hospital bed for. Fledge rolled over in bed, and pretended to be asleep, pulling the covers up to his neck.

"I have a new assignment for you two boys." 

Carl reached into the pocket of his well tailored suit and pulled out a small plank of wood, maybe as long as one of his fingers at best. 

Heh, or as small as Carl's tiny dick.

Max looked at Carl puzzled. Carl began to stare at it, and soon smoke began to rise from the wood. 

Was he about to start a fire in here? It's already hard enough to breathe. And I'm sick of the shitty assignments.

"Give it to someone else, I don't want to be assigned to some lowlife shit again." 

Carl laughed at Fledge, and shook his head.

"I think you got me wrong, there, Fledgeling. I am assigning you to this new story, the one where you just so happened to be close by. The one that caused this," he wagged a finger around Fledge, "but I, against personal wishes, have decided to assign the two of you to this story. Get down to the bottom of this as soon and as quickly as you can. The police will be behind your every move and will fish you out of trouble, should it arise. Now go out there and figure this out, or else I'll do this to the both of you wanna-be fuckers." 

Carl set down the plank of wood on the nightstand next to Fledge with a solid thunk, it now resembling a melting head, the face bore into it one of pure agony. He turned around, and as he opened the door, pulled out a Tub canister, and smoked a puff before leaving the room, coughing as the door closed silently behind him.

Max looked from the door back to Fledge.

"Well, let's get a move on it. You best get your happy little ass out of that bed, or I may have to carry you out of here." 

Max chuckled at the thought. Fledge smirked the most evil smirk he could've conjured up. He pretended to be a spoiled child, impersonating S the best Fledge could.

"I think I'd like that very much. My head is still pounding, and my leg still hurts like a bitch. So thank you for the offer. I'll take you up on it." 

Fledge looked at Max and smiled gently, who returned Fledge's look with a dumbfounded, open mouth. Fledge shook his head as he chuckled.

"As that one classic film, Mary Poppins, I believe, says, 'Close your mouth please, Maxwell, we are not a codfish.' Now c'mon, help me out here, wouldja?"

Max sauntered over to Fledge, and as he effortlessly picked him up into a cradle, Max muttered annoyed, "His name was Michael." 

Fledge laughed at his response, and sharp pains shot up his abdomen, forcing him to stop. Max looked at Fledge, confused.

"What? That was his name." 

Fledge smiled, holding back the urge to erupt into laughter again, but just barely.

"I know, it's just the fact that you know it without any hesitation, or without even having to think about it. Now, let's go, we got shit to do." 

Max nodded.

"Right." 

Max, holding Fledge, stepped out of the room, and was greeted by a host of angry Plutonian nurses, the one Max hurt at the front, her wounds bandaged up. There were eight in total, and taking up about three meters worth of space in the already small hallway.

"Excuse me, ladies, I have to be going now. I have a date with the devil this afternoon anyway. And I couldn't possibly take you all out. There's far too many of you, and there's only one of me." 

Fledge put his face in his palm. 

Holy shit, Max. Not again. 

The nurses only stepped forward. It seemed Max's 'charisma' only angered the nurses more. This registered in Fledge, and he poked Max to get moving. Max understood.

"Well, it's been swell, ladies. See ya!" 

Max leaped, in a single bound, over the nurses, and ran, still cradling Fledge.

I can walk, genius. Eh, whatever, he's faster than I am anyway.

The sounds of the nurse's angry screeches came from behind the two of them as Max ran down the corridor, dodging tables and other doctors.

Fledge looked in front of him to see a window, and he pointed to it.

"Please tell me we're not about to jump through that, Max."

Max chuckled as he continued running down the hallway.

"Fuck yeah we are. It'll look sick! Trust me."

Oh hell no. This isn't gonna end well. This place is twelve stories up. Wait. Does Max know that?

Just as Fledge was about to open his mouth to ask, Max burst through the window, and the two of them suddenly began falling. Max let go of Fledge in order to flail his arms like a bird, Fledge doing the same. As they fell, Fledge realized he felt the wind all over his body, and panicked.

Fuck, I don't have anything on under this stupid hospital robe. I guess I know where we'll be going once we get down.

"Holy shit, Fledge! I didn't realize it was this high up!"

Fledge looked at Max as they fell and chuckled nervously.

"Twelve fucking stories, Max! What'd you expect?"

Max sheepishly looked away, and a split second later, the two of them crashed into a soft net, slowing their fall until they gently touched the ground, the both of them on their feet.

Max put his head against his palm and sighed. 

"Right. Hospital. I forgot."

He looked at Fledge, who was trying to catch his breath and dust himself off, all while shaking his head.

"The suicide nets? Yeah, you're lucky they haven't taken them down yet. Now let's go. This case ain't gonna solve itself, you know. And besides, I need a fresh change of clothes. My ass is about to fall out of this fucking thing."

Fledge began walking away, pulling out his phone to summon his car. Max fixed his clothes and followed after him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Your ass looks great, by the way."

Fledge turned around and shot Max a look that said 'really?' before turning back around, where Fledge gave a sarcastic response.

"Thanks, Max."