On a normal day, that is. Phanny, unfortunately, did not count days where she was dragging an unconscious secret agent behind her into Radat as "normal". Pearl wasn't any help either, seeing as how she had, in her own words, been "mortally wounded" and had had to be carried to Radat by an entire team of able-bodied young boatmen who had just happened to wander by. But did they help the poor old woman with her load? No, because unfortunately for Phanny, the first thing that men saw when they looked at her was not her chest. So, she dragged Fitcher along the path, hoping that she could make it to Radat before she collapsed. She glanced back at Fitcher---ooh, losing that much blood might be bad. Oh well...
"Phanny!" called a voice that sent her heart into the clouds. She whirled back to see---yes, it was! Her True Love had come at last!
"Abraham!" she cried, dropping Fitcher's legs into the mud, and dashing towards Abraham in slow motion across a field of daisies that appeared there, something that she hadn't done since youth.
Ha. And Pearl thinks she's the only one who can run in slow motion. Phanny thought smugly. Abraham, a tall, bearded, middle-aged man with brown eyes that still shone with the magic of youth, smiled at his lover.
"Phanny...what brings you here? I...I know we discussed this on your last visit, but I thought you said you were going back to Lakewest to give your married life one last chance..." he said, concerned. "Of course, I'm fine if you are planning on staying..."
"Abraham, you've seen my husband, that one time at South Window...he's horrible. I gave it one last 'go', but it didn't last. Besides, then he left on a trip for Muse, and now I know what kind of horrible things he does, and...I had to come to you, Abraham. For a new life." Phanny explained. The sun came out, the birds sang, and people rejoiced. Then Abraham noticed Fitcher.
"And what baggage is this??" he asked. Phanny gasped.
"Oh my goodness, I almost forgot Fitcher!" she ran back over to the unconscious agent. "He's hurt....a tree fell on him in the storm..." Abraham quirked an eyebrow.
"So you carried him here yourself??"
"He's been escorting me here since Coronet. I owe him my life, several times over." she said.
"I see....Well, I'll take over from here, Phanny. I will see to it that this man gets the very best treatment money can buy." Abraham vowed, bending down and throwing Fitcher over his shoulder with ease. Abraham and Phanny walked along the soggy road, while she told her whole story.
"Oh, Abraham!" she cried desparingly, sinking down to her knees in the middle of the road. Abraham stopped dead in his tracks.
"What is it? Are you hurt??" he asked.
"No, but I am undeserving of a man such as you!" she despaired.
"That's nonsense, Phanny. If anything, I'm not worthy of you." Abe said.
"No, no....I mean, I was unfaithful!!" Phanny blurted.
"What? You mean, you had an affair? But we ARE having an affair!" Abe said, his eyes wide.
"I had a 'fling'." she said miserably.
"Fling?"
"Yes, I had a torrid fling with a fellow by the name of William Jackson. Rest his poor soul....." Phanny said. Abe blinked.
"Does this mean our relationship is....over?" he said slowly, as the birds stopped singing and the sun stopped shining. Phanny stood up, suddenly sobered, and shrugged.
"Not really. Ol' Will was just a beach ball anyway, and he's dead now." she said. Abe breathed a sigh of relief, then had a hearty laugh.
"That's hardly a fling, Phanny." he chuckled.
"It was a torrid fling," she insisted, but she was smiling too.
******
Fitcher woke up with a splitting headache. His head felt like it had been pounded into the mud after being smashed by a log---and in a way, it had. His head was so special that way. But it didn't make him feel any better, because, dammit, that hurt! That, and he had no idea where in the hell he was. His memory was foggy, and the only thing coming in clearly were visions of Pearl's---but anyway, now he was sitting upright in a strange bed, with a bandage wrapped around his head. Oh, the pain!
"Oh, the pain! Have mercy on my poor, fractured skull..." he moaned. "Where am I?" That was when an extremely large, fat, bulbous, warty woman with a nose like a pumpkin decided to visit his bedside.
"G'day, ah see yer up!" she crowed. Fitcher cringed. "Ye've been sleepin' fer two days, ya know! Yer lucky ol' Abe gotcha here, cuz ya wuz bleedin' all ova th' place!" She laughed a horrid laugh.
"W-who..." was all he managed to force out. The woman grinned, revealing a mouth filled with yellow, moldy, decayed teeth.
"I'm Helga, ya know!" she said. "Ah been nursin' and nursin' ya fer days...thoughtcha'd never come 'round, ya know!" Fitcher examined himself---he appeared to be in fresh clothing, and wearing a bandage. Wait a minute...fresh clothing..?
"Who gave me these..?" Fitcher asked. Helga gave a sly wink.
"You were might'y dirty when ya come in here, but I cleaned ya up right good, if ya know whut I mean." she said with a grin. Fitcher let out a whimper.
"I feel violated." he mumbled.
"Whut's that, darlin'?" Helga asked.
"I said, uh, do you play violin, because I sure don't..." he said, not-very-suavely. Helga laughed another awful laugh, jiggling the whole time.
"You're funny...I may just hafta keep ya." she said, winking. Fitcher felt sick.
That was about the time that Phanny came in, followed by Pearl and a man Fitcher had never seen before.
"How are you feeling?" asked Phanny.
"My head hurts alot." Fitcher said. "What happened? The last thing I remember...Badnooz..." Helga chuckled.
"It's usually considered bad news if ya get hit with a tree!"
"Tree?" Fitcher said. Pearl limped over, though she showed no sign of injury.
"Yes, Fitchums, a tree. When we were in the storm, one fell on us. I was mortally wounded, but you ended up taking the brunt of the hit..." Pearl explained. Phanny looked guilty.
"I tried to warn you." she said, shrugging. The tall bearded man stepped forward.
"I found Phanny outside of town, trying to carry you here. We took you back." he said. "You're in Radat now. I'm Abraham." He extended a rough, calloused hand. Fitcher shook it and realized something.
"Phanny's Abraham?"
"Yes, the same. I heard you encountered her ex-husband." Abe said.
"Yeah, the bastard tried to kill me again." Fitcher said sullenly.
"Well, I'm glad to see you're okay, Fitcher...I owe you for protecting Phanny." Abe said. "Maybe you can take part in the Fishermens' Festival that starts today. There'll be lots to do and see in Radat, especially down where all the boats are."
"Sounds like fun..." Fitcher said.
Suddenly, they all heard a loud bang from outside the house.
"What on earth was that??" Phanny wondered aloud.
"It sounded like a gunshot!" Fitcher said. Pearl and Helga ran to the window.
"There's someone out there wit' a gun, all right." Helga said.
"Oh no, Fitchums! They've found you!!" Pearl cried.
"Come on out of there, I know you're in there!!" shouted an angry female voice from outside. Abe started for the door.
"I'll handle this." he said, grabbing an axe.
"No!" Fitcher said. "I can do this. I'll be fine." He climbed out of bed and took Bill from the bedside table. He walked toward the door.
"No, you mustn't!" Pearl exclaimed tearfully, intercepting him at the door.
"I have to confront this Voicer. Maybe if I explain the situation, they'll leave me be." Fitcher said. Phanny looked extremely doubtful. He walked outside.
Standing out in the blinding sun was a woman. She was wearing a forest-green cloak, with the hood down to reveal her curly red locks. She glared and raised her rifle.
"There you are, you petty thief! Return to me what you stole in Coronet!" she demanded.
"Listen, there's been a big misunderstanding, so if you'll let me explain..." Fitcher began.
"I have no time for your lies! You are a thief, and that's all there is to it! You have wronged the Howling Voice Guild and will die for it if you don't return the gun!" she shouted.
"I can't give you the gun! Leknaat bound it to my soul with the Rune of the Gate!" Fitcher said desperately. The woman laughed a cruel laugh.
"That's the most outrageous lie I've ever heard! Now listen here...I'll give you one last chance. I, Ghira Blackwell, Squire class Gunner, of the Howling Voice Guild, demand that you return that stolen weapon immediately!" she yelled, more than a hint of danger in her voice.
"I already told you I can't do that." Fitcher said. Ghira looked furious.
"Well then. In the name of the moo---dammit, I mean, the Howling Voice Guild, I will punish you!" Ghira shouted, holding her rifle over her head. "With my mighty gun Filibuster, I will take your head!"
Pearl yawned, standing behind Fitcher.
"Boy, she IS a windbag, isn't she, Fitchums?"
"How dare you! Heathen!" Ghira shouted, firing a shot at Pearl and instead breaking a window behind her.
"Not very accurate, is she?" Phanny remarked. "For a Voicer, you'd think that she could at least hit an unmoving target." Abraham nodded in agreement. Fitcher pulled out Bill and pointed it at Ghira.
"Don't shoot at my friends." he warned her. "I tried to settle this peacefully, but you blasted into your tirade about justice and heathens, and now I'm going to have to shoot at you, which I'll probably regret, since you aren't half-bad looking." Ghira was seething now. She could hardly hold Filibuster straight.
"You....fools....how DARE..you..." she said through clenched teeth. She suddenly darted to the side and fired. The bullet grazed Fitcher's shoulder, and then he knew this wouldn't be as easy as it first appeared. This bitch meant business. He shot at her, but his aim was off, his head hurt, the sun was bright and he was dizzy. A cat screeched horribly.
"Oops." he mumbled, correcting his aim and preparing to fire again.
"Fitcher, you're going to get killed! Stop while you can!" Pearl cried, stupidly stepping in front of Fitcher's gun.
"I'm not going to get killed, but you are if you don't get out of the way!" He shoved Pearl aside and fired again. The bullet hit a building across the street. People were cautiously watching the fight from windows of their homes. Helga ran outside, and ran down the street to another house. Instead of going inside for cover or warning the residents to stay inside, she seemed to be trying to get someone to come out with her.
"Sally, there's a gunfight! Come quickly, ya hear?" she shouted. Ghira fired again, this time only missing by about an inch. Pearl screamed in horror. Fitcher panicked and shot twice more, missing both times by a very large margin. Ghira laughed.
"You're no Gunner, that's for sure. Did you really think that you would win? You're mine!" She leveled the gun at his head. But right as she was about to fire, a woman emerged with Helga. She was wearing a shredded, absolutely bloodstained dress, she had a crutch, a cast on one arm, missing teeth, and an eyepatch. Her hair was a horrible mess. She staggered over and dived in the way just as Ghira fired and took the hit.
"Nooooooooo!" she screamed, perfectly rehearsed, it seemed, as the bullet struck her in the gut.
"W-what on earth?!" Fitcher cried, shaken up by the woman that lay bleeding at his feet. "Why did she do that?!!" Abraham and Helga shrugged.
"Oh, that's Self-Sacrifice Sally. She's always around for a gunfight, swordfight, tavern brawl, or when a vital piece of machinery is self-destructing and one person needs to stay behind to save the day. She's a real trouper." Abraham explained.
"B-but she's dead! She died because of ME!" Fitcher said, shaking. Helga shook her head.
"No she ain't. Look, she's still breathin'. A little." the bulbous maid said, pointing.
"Well....will she be all right?" he asked uncertainly.
"Not until her big finish." Abraham clarified. Sally sputtered and looked up at Fitcher, eyes shining with tears.
"I'm so sorry, my love...." she coughed. "Tell...tell...my...family...to live...for me...." Her eyes rolled back and her head slumped over.
"Why?!!!" Pearl shrieked, bawling her eyes out. "Why did she have to die?? I loved her so much....*sob* *sob*" Helga rolled her eyes and invoked a Resurrection Rune. The golden light shined over Sally, and suddenly she sat up and brushed herself off. Helga handed Sally some potch and she went back into her house. Pearl was still crying. Fitcher looked around uncertainly. Ghira was standing, looking not-at-all pleased, with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Get on with it, you ridiculous fools!!" she shouted. "I can't believe I've been pulled into such a circus!" She raised her gun again. She had only one problem.
At the word 'circus', most of the citizens of Radat burst out of their homes and began to dance in the streets. Ghira looked around in confusion.
"What is this?? I demand to know what's going on here!!" she shrieked. Abraham shrugged.
"The Fishermens' Festival just started today. Right now. The festivities have begun, so why don't you cool your heels and take part in some fun?"
"I will do no such thing! This is ridiculous!!" shrieked Ghira, stamping her foot on the ground. As she was having her temper tantrum, Fitcher and the others slipped into the crowd of dancing people. By the time Ghira realized they were gone....they were gone.
"They're gone!" she shouted, adding more obvious effect to it. She stormed into the crowd, keeping a sharp lookout for her prey.
Meanwhile, everyone else in the whole town was celebrating. Fitcher, Pearl, Phanny and Abraham were trying their best to lay low in a local tavern, where the celebration continued. Pearl insisted on dancing around with some local fishermen who were admiring some of her finer assets. Phanny, Abe and Fitcher sat at a table, nervously glancing towards the windows every few minutes.
"Now what, Fitcher?" Phanny inquired. "You don't really think that she's going to give up that easily, do you?" Fitcher shook his head.
"No...but I need a time-out, my head is throbbing." he said, looking around the bar. "This festival is a mixed blessing....sure, I can hide...but it's so G'damned loud..." He held his hands over his ears, with no effect. Then they heard another gunshot from outside, followed by several people's horrifed screams.
"Time to move." Abe prompted. They got out of their chairs and looked around. There, conveniently, was a ladder leading up to the roof. Fitcher grabbed Pearl and scrambled up it, the others following close behind. Out on the roof, there was an excited looking girl.
"Hey there! Can you hide us?" Fitcher asked desperately. Her eyes lit up.
"Ooh, you guys are perfect!! Come with me, quickly." she cried, hopping over to another rooftop and scrambling down the side of the building. Fitcher nervously followed. Where was this girl taking them, and why did she think they were perfect? He followed her down an alley, and to an open square where many people were gathering. It seemed like some sort of auction was going on.
"What is this?? Can we hide here?" Phanny asked.
"Oh, you girls better get in there and start bidding before all the good ones are gone!" the girl urged. "You two men, follow me." She grabbed Fitcher and Abe before anyone could protest and dragged them---to Fitcher's horror---not to an unconspicuous hiding place, but up on stage! On his left was Abraham, and to his right were several other studly looking men. He could see Phanny and Pearl in the audience. Phanny had a bewildered look on her face, but Pearl was digging into her purse...and then it dawned on him.
Oh SHIT.
As Fitcher sat up on stage in full view of all passersby, waiting to be auctioned off to some crazy female with lots of money, he realized something.
He was either going to kill that little girl, or thank her. That is, if he wasn't shot first.
"How much for Bachelor # 6?" the announcer asked the audience, gesturing to Fitcher. "He's a bit scrawny, but boyishly handsome, in some ironic way!" Fitcher vowed to also kill the announcer.
"I'll pay 150 potch!" Pearl squealed, waving her money above her head.
"No, I'll give you 250!"
"400!"
"475!" Pearl cried.
"550!"
"I hear 550...any more?" the auctioneer boomed.
"650!!" Pearl cried desperately. From the look on her face, she seemed to be running out of cash, and that wouldn't be good for Fitcher.
"700!"
"701!" Pearl said. "Oh, rats! Do you take bits??"
"800!" cried some hot, well-endowed woman that nearly made Fitcher drool right there.
"9,750!" cried a voice that made Fitcher's heart sink. Everyone gasped, and turned to see who the lucky woman might be.
Of course, it was Helga. She winked at him and waved, her flabby arms jiggling. Everyone clapped.
"Sold! To the woman with the....heh...um, the ug---er, the interesting woman over there!" the auctioneer choked. Fitcher felt like puking, but that wasn't half as bad as he felt a moment later.
"Stop right there!" Ghira cried, stepping through the crowd, her gun raised in the air. "I've had enough of this idiocy! Now it's time for your doom, Fitcher!" She raised her right hand high in the air, and made several quick gestures.
"True Rune of the Sky! Holy Judgement!!" shouted Ghira. Everyone screamed and scattered, including the respective Bachelors. The only ones left were Ghira, Phanny, Abe, Pearl, Helga and Fitcher. The Voicer waited a moment, and when nothing happened, she checked her hand, and cursed loudly.
"I don't have it..." she said, crestfallen.
"Well, what do you have?" Abe asked. Ghira looked extremely disappointed, but tried to cover it up.
"My...my..mighty Balance Rune!" she said, her voice faltering. Everyone burst out laughing. "Stop that, infidels! You dare defy the Howling Voice Guild?" She whipped Filibuster into a firing position, and took aim---at Pearl.
"Give me the gun, or I'll blow your sweetie to kingdom come." Ghira said darkly.
"Don't do it, Fitchums...you can't lose your soul!" Pearl cried.
Dammit, I SO hate these situations. Fitcher thought. He pulled out Bill, and held it out as if he was giving up.
"Um, here. Like, take it. Don't kill her." he said. God, why did he always say the most lame things?
"Hahahahahahaha! I knew it would come to this." Ghira said. She lowered her rifle and walked over to Fitcher. At the last second, Fitcher kicked her in the gut with a mighty "Hiiyah!" and she fell to the ground. He decided that even if he didn't like it, as a secret agent, he would have to kill people eventually, and decided to start with Ghira. He first checked his gun, and frowned.
"Hey!! I only have one bullet left!" he cried angrily.
"So?" Phanny said.
"But I only fired three times! How can that be??" he demanded.
"Don't you know anything? That's how these things end up." Ghira said, going for her rifle. Fitcher fired. The bullet struck her in the arm.
"Aaaagh!" Ghira screamed.
"Dammit...don't I get another chance?" Fitcher asked. Everyone else shook their heads. "Well, shit, then. She's wounded."
"I will die before I let a thief like you disgrace me like this!" Ghira growled, getting slowly to her feet. But before she could accomplish anything, a line of dancing people entered the square. Fitcher, Pearl, Phanny, Abe and Helga joined in, merrily dancing circles around the confused Voicer.
"Where are you, heathen? My justice shall strike you dow---ahhh!" Ghira cried, just as the dancing line knocked her off-balance. But before she fell, her Balance Rune invoked, and she righted herself.
"Hahaha! Now you see the futility of it all! My mighty Balance Rune has proven me the victor!" Ghira laughed evilly, standing triumphantly.
It was then that an excited partygoer decided to break a chair over her head. Ghira was out. Fitcher and the others danced away and lost her in the crowd.
*******
The next morning, Fitcher woke up and was greeted by Phanny and Pearl.
"Good morning, Fitchums!" Pearl said.
"Morning....where's Abe?" asked Fitcher. Phanny grinned.
"He's getting breakfast...oh, he's such a wonderful man. And he's all mine. Bwaha!" she gloated. Fitcher frowned.
"Has anyone seen Ghira after last night?" he asked.
"No....but come to think of it, that little boy we saw this morning was bragging about something involving her..." Phanny said.
"Well, we were sure lucky, in any case. Suppose she had had that True Rune??" Fitcher said. Phanny chuckled.
"There was no danger of that." she said, smiling. "That Rune does not exist. It's straight out of a fairy tale. More like an old wives' tale, even. There is no True Rune of the Sky. It seems that our Miss Blackwell is quite the delusional weirdo." They all laughed.
Abe came in with breakfast, and Helga.
"G'mornin', darlin'. Don' fergit about our little date!" Helga said.
"Date?" Fitcher asked warily.
"A'course, darlin'. I paid 9,750 potch fer it, so don' think yer gonna skip out on it!" she laughed. Fitcher hoped that the shade of green that he was turning was not easily noticable. Just then, an adorable little boy popped into the house.
"Hello, mister...Mommy told me ta tell you....my teacher said, that I can use a Blinkin' rune cause I'm smart...so...I sended that mean crazy lady to Toto." the boy rambled. Fitcher tousled his hair.
"Well, thanks, kid....I owe you one. Here, how about I give you some money?" He handed the kid forty potch.
"Oh, wow! Thanks, mister!" He skipped out of the room joyfully, just as cute but now forty potch richer, which is always a nice thing. Fitcher turned to the others.
"So, what's the plan?" he said, glancing nervously at Helga. "We're leaving Radat, right?"
"Well, the Festival lasts for a while, and you still need to rest up for a bit...Pearl says you guys are staying here for another week." Abraham announced. "And that way, you can spend some more time with Phanny and I before you two head south." Fitcher nodded, trying to keep any thoughts about Helga far from his mind.
"Isn't that great, Fitchums?" Pearl said cheerfully.
"It's just...dandy." Fitcher said, grinning falsely at her. She didn't notice. Then Fitcher remembered something.
"Oh, can someone get me some paper and something to write with? I want to write a letter to Nora. I promised ...those guys in South Window...that I would." he said. Of course, the letter was much more for Nora's benefit than for Nok-Nok or Clinker's. He sat down and wrote her a nice letter, hoping that the details regarding Badnooz's hideout and the tree incident wouldn't worry her too much. He sent it off, and then prepared himself for a relaxing 'week off' in Radat.
"Oh, darlin'?" Helga piped up. "I forgot to tell ya, when you give me a massage on our date, I like LOTS o' lotion, ya got it?" She winked slyly.
It was all Fitcher could do to hold down his breakfast.
