SWNOVELS Chapter CHAPTER NINETEEN
It had been almost a week since Bill Pickles had been submerged in sewerage and fired from a shit tube like the Universe’s smelliest baby being birthed from a canon. His skin still stank of the wretched slurry, which had not only saturated his clothes but also spread to the inside of his ship. He felt cheated; Bill had always done what was expected of him and then some. This target had made things personal and that wasn’t fair. Sure, he could see things from Atlas’ perspective, I mean, who wants to be killed for owing money to the bank, but then again he knew the risk he was taking when he spent that money. All of the account contracts mentioned this as a consequence of debt and it’s not like anyone would sign something without reading it thoroughly first. As such it was only right that they accept their fate with dignity, not embark upon a personal mission to spite the man sent to carry out the terms of their contract. It was disgusting to him.
Bill had had to contact people remotely to track down where his nemesis had ended up. The over powering stench he now had was too much for polite company, so he had spared his contacts the discomfort. He had resigned to saving all of his wrath for Atlas, that included having to smell that smell. The information he had gathered had pointed him to a planet in the outer spiral arm of the Andromeda Galaxy. He had been flying at full speed to reach this planet and now found himself approaching its orbit. He was so close he could smell his foe’s terror. It smelled like sewerage…
From what he knew of the planet, terror was not in short supply. It was a product of the less savoury side of the OEO. It was known as the Settlement World, the name had come from the fact that the place was used to settle disputes between businesses. If two or more companies had an argument to settle they would come to this place and bet on survivors. The winner would also win the argument. Bill found this barbaric, but felt it impolite to judge them. Usually only competitors and maintenance workers were allowed onto the planet’s surface, but given his employer, he had acquired a temporary landing pass. He was going to carry out his contract before he could die from whatever it was people on this planet tended to die from.
He didn’t have the clearance to know exactly what was so dangerous about this planet, but he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was wrenching the life from his nemesis in the most painful way he knew. He planned to peel him; it was a punishment he had been saving for the worst of the worst. It was perfect for Atlas Van Morrison, he had actually killed a man to hide from Bill and that was too grievous to ignore.
He had paid for access to the planet’s spectator feeds and knew that his prey was heading for an escape pod in arena D-17. It had been put there in case an employee became stranded during maintenance visits. The powerful winds around the pod’s location made landing there impossible, but Bill had found a clearing in a nearby area. It was in an area called ‘Lewisville’, and sounded nice enough.
He dropped below the artificial skyline and descended toward the clearing. It was designed to look like a giant chess board. His entire ship was able to fit in the space of just five tiles. He departed the ship, laden with a duffle bag full of knives and rope. It was heavy, but he was in great shape so a five kilometre walk wasn’t so bad. He started off in the direction of the Fantasy Land area, his anticipation hastened his pace. He was actually excited, he hadn’t gotten a thrill like this in a long time, maybe this wasn’t such a bad job to do after all.
As he reached the edge of the chess board, he could see a large shadow through the fog. As he grew closer, the details of the shadow became clearer. It appeared to be a massive, tattered armchair. There was something sat on it. When he neared the monumental furnishing, its occupant came into view. It was an eight foot tall, top hatted, kilt wearing, anthropomorphic rabbit.
He was sipping tea, his bucked teeth and distended eyeball, with a monocle stuck to it. As he drank, he raised his pinkie finger, delicately holding the saucer between his thumb and fore finger. This seems like a kind fellow, thought Bill, perhaps he could offer me some directions?
A large, barbed staff was rested between the rabbit-creature’s legs. It looked almost as though it was made of flesh and rock, a truly threatening implement. The Rabbit spotted him and set down his cup and saucer. As it stood up from its seat, two things became alarmingly clear to the unsuspecting Mr Pickles. First; was that the staff was not a staff, it was a weaponised penis, second; was that the look in his eye and the drool on his distorted lip said that he was very happy to see him.
This wouldn’t end well…