The noise of the mongrelmorphs woke me up. One of them was making a high-pitched sound that was drilling my tank, like that of some nails scratching metal. I was getting tired of telling Luigi not to let them inside, but as usual, no one gave shit about my opinions. It seemed I really was the laughing stock of the place.
It was a bit cold, but a week ago, while being chased by a bunch of rockscratchers near the area of Violet Pool, I had ripped apart my only shirt crossing some thorny bushes. And it is not easy to patch a new one when you have four tentacles. And if that wasn’t enough already, someone had jacked my feet condoms.
On the door appeared the reptilian dogface of Lester, who pointed out while “talking” to me. The sounds he emitted was very similar to that of a goat being fucked up its ass by a pit beast, and I know it quite well because our pit beast is really into that. I nodded and smiled, as we all did even though we never understood shit of what he said. But hey, he seemed happy with it and life was already hard enough to ruin anyone’s good mood.
Getting out was not particularly appealing. At a first glance from the outside the camp may look like some kind of dump, but then, it was an actual dump. A wet, stinky one.
I crossed past Bif, who tossed me aside without a look. He looked human at first sight, and as he never took off the loose-fitting robe that covered his body, no one could really say what his mutation was. My guess was him being a complete dipstick.
I moved on between two shacks to get to our leader’s hut. The rest of the structures were made of debris, thin plates and sticks, but his was made of guano. My buddy Trevor provided it personally, during his strict high-fiber diet.
As it happened in many mutards groups, we were led by a bobblehead. In case any of you don’t know, they are really smart guys and with psychic powers, but in our leader’s particular case, that was not at odds with him being a total asshole. This particular one really lived up to his name, as his head was twice the normal size and his body not bigger than that of a year-old child. In fact, for his head not to be falling to its sides every minute, he had to walk with some kind of wheeled-frame to support it.
I knocked at his door a couple of times and entered. There he was, seating on a small throne of sorts. Most of the times I found it really difficult to speak with him, because I had a really hard time holding back my laughter and ended up putting a silly face. He talked to me.
– I’m glad you are here. I have big plans for you.
– Mmm, thank you, master – yike, bad, bad business, those plans used to end in pain or humiliation.
– As you know, we are the chosen ones, the next step in evulotion, those called to rule the planet.
– I know, master – there we go again with that yawn speech again. Look, we are a bunch of pathetic misfits, the worst scum in that pile of shit called the Wasteland. And it is said “evolution”, you moron.
– And our time has come at last. It is said that he who has to guide us has presented himself and is gathering all the groups around the area of Scrapbridge. We must check if this is true, so someone has to go find him.
– And am I the chosen, master? – apparently he had the word “expendable” written on his forehead.
– Indeed, dear… ehhhh…
– Paul, master – I hope he is not thinking about…
– No, that is the name humans want you to have, but I want you to use your real name.
– But… – no, please, no, no.
– Go on, say it.
– Slimy – fuck, why is he making me say it.
– Louder.
– SLIMY – yeah, right, ridicule me a bit more, maybe someone in Nowater hadn’t heard me already.
– Good. Get ready with whatever you need; tomorrow you will go to The Twins.
I nodded and went outside the hut. At least this motherfucking bobblehead was not of the type who could read minds, because if he could I would have been ditched a long time ago.
Well, with a bit of luck some gruesome beast would waste me in the Wasteland and free me from this fucked up life. Yeah, that really sounded good.