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Empire on Ice #49:

Dave's Shot

Part the Fourth of:

The Quest for Emperor Josh




This week! Dave’s the one holding the gun, but Silence is holding most of the cards. Pintos and vegetarianism are discussed, disparagingly.




[Nighttime in Afiach's cottage in the woods. DeLatia, Silence, Gregor, Thanatos, Afiach, and her horse Spinach are all held captive by DAVE, who is brandishing a spicy firearm: the Freedom Ringer 1776, with Poly-Directional Radiobarrel Assault.]


DeLatia: I can't believe that the last car I'm going to have ridden in before I die is a Pinto.


Gregor: Hey!


Afiach: A Pinto? That's a horse coat! Can I see it?


Dave: No, you can not see the Pinto! Besides, I bumped into it pretty bad when I was pulling in.


Gregor: Oh, come on! That thing only had three more payments on it.


DeLatia: You had an installment plan on a Pinto? They're like 50 bucks.


Silence: Jiggities.


DeLatia: Jiggities.


Silence: 40 on Eggslist.


Thanatos: He probably means the fine.


Gregor: Yeah, apparently there's a $10,000 fine for driving a Pinto in the Empire, for "aesthetic mitigation."


Thanatos: It's in the Imperial Revised Tax Code, Book 1100, Chapter 56, Section—well, never mind. The money goes to building new Pintos out of antimatter and—mind, you, this is the law talking, not me—"letting nature run its course."


DeLatia: That's not how that works.


Thanatos: I know.


Afiach: I would buy a Pinto. They sound cute! ^_^


DeLatia: [To Dave.] So that's it, then. For all your trouble, you're killing four idiots, one sexy genius, and you're getting a cottage that smells like anchovies, a horse, and a banged up Pinto. I hope it was worth it.


Dave: Oh, rest assured, I have a far grander prize in mind—a great, singular purpose.


Silence: You just want to be famous, don't you?


Dave: I'm going to be fam—hey! Way to steal my thunder. That's all you people ever do, is steal my thunder. It's like everyone in the whole friggin' Empire is famous for working on After The Hero, except me! Everywhere I go, I see your stupid faces on billboards, and in magazines, and on packages of food that I eat by myself while I watch shows on the Internet—shows with commercials about how awesome you all are, and how you're always drinking $15 wine, and bowling for free at the Lucky Strike Lanes, and taking four-day vacations in Fresno. Well...not any more! Now it's my turn, dammit!


Silence: You really need to set your ambitions a little higher.


Dave: How dare you?!


Gregor: [Aside to Silence.] Don't provoke him!


Silence: Nah, we're good. You know what, Dave? There's no way you're the brains of this operation. Someone put you up to this.


Dave: Enough!


Thanatos: Silence, quit it! He's got that wild look in his eye.


Silence: Doesn't matter. Dave, you poor, pathetic scoundrel. You're somebody else's lackey and you don't even realize it. Tell us who and I'll go easy on you.


Dave: I'm done being patronized by you!


[Dave pulls the trigger on his Freedom Ringer 1776, with Poly-Directional Radiobarrel Assault.]


[However, instead of a shot firing, a radio starts playing from inside the gun barrel.]


Announcer: —you're listening to J-102.3 FM, all accordions all the time. Coming up next, Odebaaker's Accordion Concerto No. 3, with—


Dave: Da fuq is this?!


Silence: Ah, silly American.


Dave: What?!!


Silence: That gun may be branded to sell to overzealous gun-totin' American expats, but still it's an Imperial gun, and in the Empire we have gun control. All of our guns have autonomous AI—


DeLatia: Wait, wat?


Silence: —that are equipped to detect the mental state of the shooter and the environmental circumstances, including the targets.


Dave: What?


Silence: Nah, I'm just kidding. There's a recall out on the 1776. Apparently the manufacturer in Taiwan misunderstood what "Radiobarrel" means.


Announcer: —but first, these words from Staav's Glorious Sonorous Accordion Shoppe, on 147th Avenue!


[The voice changes from the announcer to Staav, and obnoxiously loud accordion music in the background.]


Staav: HALLO FRONDS! AND I VELCOM YOU TO STAAV'S GLORUS SONARIS ACCOORDEAN SHOPPE!


Dave: How do I turn it off? Make it stop!


Silence: Easy. [She snaps her fingers. The radio stops instantly.]


Dave: ?!


Gregor: How did you do that?


Silence: First things first. [She pulls out a carton of eggs.] My pretties, maim severely.


[EGG SPECTACULAR, the ultimate squadron of twelve water-hardened battle eggs, fly out from their carton and maim Dave severely. The OTHERS, watching, are variously horrified and fascinated.]


Afiach: That's...that's really neat.


Gregor: I'm gonna be sick.


Thanatos: [To Silence.] I never give you enough credit for doing a better job at finding new ways to kill.


Silence: [To Thanatos.] It's hardly a secret that eggs are very high in cholesterol. Only slightly less well-known is that cholesterol is the key ingredient in kicking ass.


DeLatia: I'm pretty sure that's not true either.


[Meanwhile, Dave is on the floor, bruised, half-senseless, and covered in albumen and yolk.]


Dave: [Meekly.] I give up. I surrender.


Silence: As well you should.


[EGG SPECTACULAR returns to their carton. Then Silence walks up to Dave and kicks him gently in the ribs.]


Silence: You forget. Emperor Josh may be missing, but he would never be so stupid as to disappear without making sure that there's somebody who can turn off all the crazy shit that gets approved for sale in this Empire.


Afiach: You can turn off crazy shit?


Silence: And that's not all. I can also turn it on.


[Silence snaps her fingers again. Dave suddenly jerks up into the air, hanging suspended without any apparent support. He writhes.]


Gregor: That shouldn't be possible.


Afiach: That looks like it hurts.


Silence: Anyone who tries to shoot someone as innocent and pure as Afiach Bard gets to hurt for a few minutes.


Afiach: But...I wouldn't have you do that on my account.


Silence: Exactly. [To DeLatia.] I told you we need her. [To Dave.] Now: Talk.


Dave: [In great discomfort.] A-anything! What do you want to know?


Silence: Who put you up to this?


DeLatia: Yeah. I would've suspected it'd be one of us in this room. The unassuming bard. The lord of death. Silence. But we're all here. So who's behind this?


Dave: ...don't know...their real name...they've always gone by...Number One.


Silence: What have you done with Emperor Josh?


Dave: Nothing. We...didn't do anything. No...idea where...he is!


Silence: What's your game?


Dave: ...Number One wants...to use Josh's absence...take over the Empire.


Gregor: How would that work? You can't just waltz in and declare yourself Emperor.


Afiach: You probably could, but I guess most people wouldn't go along with it.


Silence: Actually, that's literally what Josh did, back in the day.


Afiach: Wow, really?


Silence: It was a good waltz.


DeLatia: Seriously, though. What's Number One's plan?


Dave: Don't...know. Need-to-know basis. I...don't need...to know.


Silence: Ugh! Minions are always so contemptible. Did Number One even offer you anything besides "fame"?


Dave: Not much. $20 per diem. 100 SlicePoints at...the Pizza Pizza.


DeLatia: You sold out your Empire for pizza?!


Silence: Hey, he's only human.


[DeLatia rolls her eyes.]


Thanatos: This Number One...where is he—or she, or they—located?


Dave: We only ever...talk...by hologram. No clue where...their true location is...argh! Let me down!


Gregor: Let him down, Silence.


[She lets him fall to a heap on the ground. Then she walks right up to him, leans down, and whispers.]


Silence: You've been absolutely no help so far. The next thing you tell us will be something useful, or the Eggs get you.


Dave: No! Not the eggs!


Silence: [In a vicious whisper.] You didn't capitalize "Eggs."


Dave: We're talking out loud. How would you even know—


Silence: Oh, I know these things. Now tell us something useful.


Dave: That's all I know. I swear it!


[Silence hisses in disgust, and leaps back to her feet.]


Silence: [To Afiach.] Feed him to the horses.


Afiach: They don't actually eat flesh.


Silence: Ah, yes! There's a word for that, isn't there? For that strange, alien way of life, that rises almost to the level of perversion itself. "Vegetarian," right?


DeLatia: "Herbivore."


Silence: What foreign and unusual words! What barbaric and ungodly ways! [She shakes her head.] I can't imagine it. [To Afiach.] Well, feed him to whatever you have that does eat meat.


Afiach: Um—


Silence: In the meantime! Our next stop should be the Pizza Pizza.


Gregor: Hey, that's actually a good idea. If Number One is giving Dave SlicePoints, maybe it means they have a connection to the restaurant. Good thinking, Silence.


Silence: Er...right. Yes. That's what I meant.


DeLatia: Wait, wait. Are we tracking down Number One? Or are we searching for Emperor Josh?


Silence: Number One will stop at nothing to stop us from finding Josh. We have to make Number One's unmaking our first priority. Only then can our true quest proceed.


Gregor: Maybe we should sleep first. You know, in stories like these, it's like they never sleep. But surely it has to happen, right? I was actually just about to go to bed before you crashed your car into my house.


Silence: Galavar's car.


Gregor: I think the point stands.


Thanatos: You did what?


Afiach: If we're tired, I do have extra bedrooms.


Silence: Is the Pizza Pizza still open?


Gregor: I think they close at eleven.


Silence: Sleep it is!


[Afiach walks over to an adorably tiny, precious little Venus fly trap. It's about the size of a thumb. She points to it, with her hands still wadded up in a huge ball of gum.]


Afiach: Um...I think this is my only carnivorous pet.



TO BE CONTINUED...





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O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!