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What a headache the Vigilante had. As expected, he’d woken up with a massive hangover, brain fogged and body sluggish. However, the warmth of his blanket felt especially comforting that morning as his eyes slowly focused and adjusted to the sunlight pouring in through his bedroom window like a loving embrace. Stretching his aching body, the first thought that entered his mind was “ some coffee would probably help right about now. ”
But with the thought of coffee was the thought of Hazel. Vigi and Noisette had gone out drinking last night. That’s where his hangover came from. They had talked all night about whatever came to their drunken minds, but that meant some words and thoughts slipped through Vigi’s hard-coded shell. And Noisette hadn’t minded at all. In fact, before he’d fallen asleep, she had…
Vigert rubbed his cheek, where Hazel had planted that gentle kiss. He could lie to himself all day that her intentions must have been platonic, but everything implied otherwise. Her flirty banter, the way she’d looked at him,
held
him… How could they go about being friends, with feelings like these? How would they talk about this? Vigi had always prided himself on being upfront and honest, but this was just so much all at once!
Oh God, what would the Noise think?! This cowboy might be lonely, but he had no intentions of encouraging Noisette to
cheat!
Goodness, uncomfortable as it might have been, the two needed to talk about this, or else the Vigilante’s poor soul would break under the pressure. He wasted no time dragging himself out of bed and preparing himself for the day ahead of him, although his nerves wanted anything but to leave home.
~~~~~
The door chimed open as it would any other morning, but the energy that swept through was one unlike any other; the cowboy who entered hung his head low in a manner familar to those who saw him in the salon, but never had he entered like so into the café of all places. His usual smile was gone, and although he didn't walk with scorn, his eyebrows furrowed into an unsure, uncomfortable expression.
Noisette had her back turned to him, brewing up a fresh cup of Joe just for her favorite customer, and on cue she still let out in a sing-song voice, “Good morning, Vigi!”
The Vigilante gulped and stated a groggily “good mornin’” back to her. Before he was seated, Noisette happily clinked the cheeseslime’s mug down on the country. It was like nothing had taken place last night. Had she forgotten? Maybe Hazel had drunk more than the cowboy noticed… but if she had, she showed no signs of a hangover, acting chipper as a bird.
“Why so glum? Last night’s drinkin’ biting you in the butt?” Noisette giggled.
Humbly, Vigert avoided her dark eyes, “It ain’t kissin’ it, that’s for sure. Coffee’ll help.” The bright pink of the cafe interior wasn’t aiding his headache any, but the aroma and taste of Noisette’s morning coffee would soothe him. Or so he hoped, at least.
“Actually, I heard somethin’ about that whole ‘coffee cures hangovers’ thing being a myth! But maybe I shouldn’t tell customers that…” Noisette thought it over for a moment before concluding, “Well, now you know, but don’t tell anyone!” She winked merrily at her friend.
Here Vigert was, overthinking every little thing about last evening with his head pounding as heavy as his heart, but the center of his infatuation was completely unfazed. It was like that kiss never even happened. Like the two of them could go on and pretend to have forgotten, and nothing would be array…
But no good, honest man nor cheeseslime could live with such an evening on his conscience without talking about it. Though deep in his soul, he was nothing less than flattered and thrilled by the possibility that Hazel liked him the same way he liked her, Vigi knew he couldn’t just let last night’s events go unspoken, for Theodore's sake, for everyone's sakes. They needed to talk about it… even if it resulted in inevitable rejection or disappointment.
“Hey um, Hazel… About last night…” Vigert trailed off. He had, in his mind, tried to carefully plan out what he was going to say, but still ended up with nothing to say.
Sensing her friend’s lack of words, Noisette spoke for him; “Let me guess, I went too far, didn’t I?” The barista tried to hold her smile, but it was weak as it wavered. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you–... ah geez.”
Curiously, Vigi lifted his head. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable Hazel, I just– I wasn’t expecting all that . I know you were a lil tipsy, so…” the cowboy sighed with defeat, “I know you didn’t mean anything serious by it, but you’re happy with Theodore, aren’t cha? I just–... I dunno… I don’t want any misunderstandings.” The bounty hunter drank from his mug, waiting for Noisette to fill the silence, but when she didn’t, his poor little eyes looked up at her curiously.
Noisette blinked repeatedly for a few seconds, and her face shifted. Was her… face red? She must’ve felt the newfound warmth in her cheeks, because Hazel covered them and her sudden grin with her hand. In spite of that, nothing could hide the sparkle in her eyes.
“Oh Vigi,” she laughed lightheartedly, “You’re even sweeter than I thought.” The barista leaned forward and with a hushed voice remarked, “I wasn’t wasted last night, I knew what I was doing and I stand by it; I was serious. Theo even encouraged me to be more forward.”
All the implications were gathering together in the Vigilante’s mind, but just like with Noisette’s confession the night before, he was having a hard time adding everything up. Hearing the love of his life – someone who was so out of his league that just the idea of her liking him back seemed like a fantasy – implying not only that, but that her boyfriend was in on it… it was certainly a lot for a humble cowboy to consider.
“He– you–... huh!?” The Vigilante was flabbergasted even more so than he was the previous night. If he was hearing this right, Noisette liked him and… the Noise was aware!? What sense did that make?
His cheeks were flushed when he tried to maffle, “Are you tellin’ me that you– that you really do have feelings for–”
THUD! CRASH! BOOM!
It was as if the tower itself was collapsing! Everything in the room violently shook, nearly knocking the Vigilante right out of his seat, and spilling the contents of his coffee too! Noisette held tightly onto the counter to stop herself from falling, but that didn’t stop her from tripping onto her knees. Somewhere outside of the cafe, what sounded like a massive explosion could be heard throughout most of the entire tower. Seconds ticked by like hours, but the terrorizing trembling eventually subsided, and the tower residents were left wondering what exactly just happened.
Vigert held tightly onto the hat on his head as he peered over the counter, “Are you alright??”
Noisette nodded, bringing herself back to her feet and exchanging a glance with the Vigilante. It was like they read each other’s minds; their previous conservation was temporarily forgotten as they both abandoned the counter to dash out of the cafe, desperate to scan the area for what just caused all the commotion just a minute prior.
“I think that ruckus came from over there!” Noisette pointed way up high to where the 4th floor’s boss lived. Or at least that’s what everyone thought; no one had seen the boss before, but surely something had to be up there to cause whatever damage just took place.
Or maybe not. Maybe it was just that Peppino Spaghetti being a menace again. And speaking of the devil – like a bat out of hell, he suddenly appeared, falling overhead past the fan that sat outside of Noisette’s Cafè! Once Pino landed on the ground, he looked around with a shaky breath, sweaty brow, and horrified eyes, which landed right on Noisette and the Vigilante.
Somehow he looked even more scared than usual! His irises went small and he ran past as quickly as he could. He must’ve been the one that caused that– that explosion? Whatever had happened, Peppino was definitely the culprit behind the crime, and was running away guilty as ever.
“Hey– stop– get back here!” The Vigilante shouted. The chef did not stop. If anything, his running only got faster. That wasn’t going to stop the cheeseslime from chasing after him as Noisette watched. Kicking out his long leather boots from his cheesy body, Vigert sprang into gear and his eyes centered on his target. With every misdoing Peppino committed, the cowboy’s rage against him only grew. The delight he’d take in clobbering that Italian would be indescribable. The only problem was that he’d have to catch up to him first, and it seemed like the only thing Peppino was good for was messing shit up, and running really fast. Vigi was already somewhat slower than Pino, but his hangover did him no favors.
Wait– his gun! That would be exactly what he could use to knock that fool off his feet! The Vigilante viciously whipped out his gun, loaded with cheese bullets, and fired straight ahead as he tried to keep pace with his fiendish enemy. It was a foolproof plan; Vigert never missed a shot, all he had to do was aim for Peppino’s feet. It should’ve been easy.
Following close behind Peppino, Vigert jumped off the ledge and turned to aim at his game, but he’d already almost made it to the next ledge in mere seconds. That pain in the ass chef had already ran past – he was still as fast as ever, even with his collected assortment of injuries from each boss fight. And although Vigi desperately tried to aim and fire, the distance was too great; his bullets didn’t meet their out-of-range target. The Vigilante would have to keep truckin’ it if he wanted any chance at interrogating that ruffian.
After the cowboy ran past the tower’s elevator, he stopped in his place before he could fall off the next ledge. If he remembered the floor plan correctly, Peppino was now trapped on the bottom section of the floor; his only way out of here was the middle section, right where the Vigilante rested. All he had to do was wait for Peppino to come back up, and Vigert would shoot him right in the rear.
Although many minutes passed by without Peppino popping up again, the Vigilante knew he had to be patient; if he actually caught this outlaw this time, all the chaos in the tower would cease. Well, most of it. All of it that involved some lunatic running around and smashing his head into walls. And eventually, there he was just as Vigert had predicted! Peppino ran up the wall, having likely hoped his pursuer had gotten tired and walked off, but Vigert had waited like an animal on a hunt, ready to pounce.
Shots fired one by one, dancing on the trail of Peppino’s pattering feet, and although he tripped and faltered, he kept up his steadfast pace. But with just a few more bullets, the Italian would fall to his knees; all the Vigilante had to do was make sure Peppino didn’t reach that elevator door.
But just as Peppino seemingly began to lose this cat-and-mouse chase, a high-pitched scream rang out from somewhere on the 4th floor. And it wasn’t just any scream; it was Noisette.
The Vigilante stopped in his tracks to look around – Noisette’s scream came from above, but it was too distant to have come from the ledge of her cafè. No; that scream came way up high from the boss gate. There was no telling who lingered up there, nor their intentions.
If Vigert went to investigate, he’d lose his chance at catching Peppino once again. Another failure to add to the ever growing sour taste in his mouth. But what if Noisette got hurt? Hell, what if her healing leg made it difficult for her to flee from whatever danger rested up there? Despite her strength, Hazel surely wasn’t invincible .
Peppino scurried on ahead, just yards away from escaping.
All it’d take was a few more steady bullets, but what would the bounty hunter do then, with no rope on hand, and with a helpless friend in need?
Vigi huffed and kicked the ground. One day, he’d make sure that Italian nutcase would have hell to pay.
Abandoning his mission, the cheeseslime put his sticky body to work, climbing the foul walls as fast as he could. When he made it to the entrance of Nosiette’s cafe, she was nowhere to be found; she must’ve been even higher up, at the door of the fourth boss’ gate. The cowboy had no clue why she would’ve screamed, but as the Vigilante crawled closer, he heard the sound of… laughter? Noisette was laughing; she wasn’t in danger, so that was a relief. But what could she possibly be laughing at?
When he made it to the floor’s peak, there was Noisette safe and sound, but beside her was – Vigi had to do a double take – Peppino? But this wasn’t the Peppino he had just been chasing; this guy was a bit taller, and more… sweaty? He was almost like a cheeseslime, in the way that his body oozed and melted into itself. This thing , whatever it was, wasn’t human; it was an uncanny creature that looked vaguely like the fabled Mr. Spaghetti, but so upsettingly different, like a distorted dream.
Noisette appeared untroubled enough, though she was surprised when she turned and saw the Vigilante’s displeased expression.
“Sorry for the scream! But when I came up here and saw this fella, well, I was mighty surprised!” she apologized, playfully remarking, “You went to chase off one Peppino and I went and found another one!”
“What the hell even is that thang ?” Vigi looked up at the Peppino doppelganger, and it peered back with loopy eyes. If there was one clear difference between that chef and this counterpart, it was the doped out smile it wore, like a dog, constantly happy and unaware of anything. But no matter how friendly the creature seemed, there was something so unnerving about it; it was no wonder Peppino had left so frightened, seeing this upsetting look-alike of himself.
“Heck if I know,” Hazel shrugged as she walked over to the entryway of the clone’s realm, “But I can tell you what his boss gate has in it. Look!”
When the Vigilante slithered over and looked inside, he was completely astonished, his mouth agape.
Inside was what resembled the remains of a restaurant, but the place was derelict and neglected. The caricature on the walls vaguely looked like the not-Peppino, boasting that “nothing compares” to the food offered there. One dim light bulb lit the interior, which upon closer inspection, was completely missing a floor; whatever had taken place up there, it had resulted in the floor caving in, and below was nothing but shambles of unused dining furniture, trash and filth.
The floor falling apart must’ve been the loud noise the Vigilante and Hazel had heard. On one of the walls, a sign mysteriously spelled out “Peppino’s Pizza 2,” only leading to more questions than answers.
“Why on earth is there some pizzeria up here?” Vigi thought aloud. “‘Peppino’s Pizza 2’ sounds like a load of bull to me. That–” he looked at the clone beside him “–ain’t no Peppino.”
“It is a little odd,” Noisette nodded. “Why would Pizzahead just have a mock version of a competitor’s restaurant up here? And Peppino’s a handful enough! I wasn’t expecting to meet another one.”
The misshapen clone paid no mind to the pair’s conversation, instead inspecting them from a distance. It was like it hadn’t seen other living beings before; it was just as curious about Noisette and the Vigilante as they were about him.
Vigi felt his cheesy skin crawl as the Peppino wannabe inched closer, but Noisette was sure to draw attention away from him, doing some inspecting of her own.
“Well, he seems a lot nicer than Peppino, actually! You’ve been in that poor run-down place for a while now, haven’t you?” Noisette cooed, holding Fake Peppino’s face. It seemed pleased to have some sort of contact with another living creature other than itself; the faker gently croaked as he let his head sink into Hazel’s hands until – pop! His head came right off!
Two little eyeballs and a pink, fleshy brain were left exposed, and although the fake Peppino seemed calm at first, it jumped when Vigert gasped in horror. Hazel just blinked, silently shocked for a moment before coming to her senses.
“Hey– hey, it’s okay!” she promised, “Here, let me just…” Carefully, she placed the separated head over the exposed brain as if it was a mask for a costume, until the noggin was re-attached to its neck and body. The clone simply blinked and smiled as if nothing had happened.
“Pizzahead,” Vigert grunted, “He chose and hired each of us bosses to be in this tower and defend it. But the only guy we’ve had to wrastle is Peppino! And– there’s just, this guy up here? Why would Pizzahead hire– this !?”
Fake Peppino, oblivious as he was, could read Vigi’s tone well enough to hear the aggression within it. The clone backed away a bit, hiding behind the docile Noisette; if only the creature understood this cowboy wasn’t mad at it .
“Call me crazy, but I don’t think he hired Fakey here at all,” Hazel speculated. “I mean, that’s a whole restaurant in there, a copy of Peppino’s place. This –” she directed at the clone “ –is a copy. And I don’t wanna underestimate anybody, but I’d be surprised if this guy’s makin’ pizzas or beating up bad guys. Then again, he did scare Pino away.”
“Whatever’s goin’ on, I’m gonna get to the bottom of this,” Vigert growled. “I don’t think our boss has been tellin’ the whole truth here. Peppino might be one mighty piece of shit, but where did he–” Fake Peppino turned his head with curiosity “–come from? It just makes no sense…”
Vigert looked up at Noisette and their new friendly-yet-threatening companion. He seemed harmless enough… but if shit did hit the fan, Vigi knew Hazel would have things covered.
She was the bravest gal he’d ever met. He was so incredibly lucky to be able to call Noisette his friend, let alone possibly something more.
“I’ll be back,” the Vigilante began walking away, gripping his leather hat tight as his boots traversed the filthy floor. “Keep an eye on that fella, would ya?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll babysit this buster.” Noisette patted the clone’s back and said knowingly, “Don’t go and get too heated now! Pizzahead’s still our boss after all!”
The Vigilante looked back and couldn’t help but smile a little. “I’ll try not to.”
Hazel beamed back. “Great! We can finish our conversation in the café later!”
Right. Their conversation… But he had to focus on the current matter, Fake Peppino. Think about your feelings for Noisette later. Don’t worry about how your relationship with her might change. Just go and ask why there’s a copy of the tower’s top wanted criminal as a boss.
The stoic cowboy walked away, heading for the tower’s elevator, dwelling on his missed opportunity to capture Peppino, and the existence of “Peppino’s Pizza 2,” urging his mind to forget about Noisette for the moment. She was like a catchy earworm, stuck in his head singing love’s song.
Noisette waved at Vigi as he entered the elevator, and he could see her smile even as the doors closed, and he was sent up to the 5th floor.
“I tell ya,” Noisette said, turning to Fake Peppino, “that guy’s so ambitious but hotheaded. He’s always runnin’ off, tellin’ somebody off. Oh well,” she shrugged with a smile, “that’s what’s cute about him.”
“Now come on!” she grabbed the hand of the Peppino clone, who followed along as Noisette led him to her cafe. “If you’ve been livin’ in a dingy pizzeria all this time, you must be stir crazy! But I got some new food for you to try!”
~~~~~
“Pizzahead!” the Vigilante yelled as he burst through the office doors..
The pizza of the hour was unperturbed by such a loud and sudden introduction, wearing that mocking grin he always did. Along the walls were a series of TVs, all displaying camera feeds of different spots within the tower; one feed in particular was aimed at the wanted Peppino Spaghetti, who had made his way to the 5th floor now.
“Ah, you’re just the cheeseslime I’ve been dying to see,” Pizzahead’s smile somehow grew wider. “I have a favor to ask you, but by all means, if you have something urgent to tell me, I’m all ears.
“That fellr’ down on the 4th floor– what’s his deal? Why’s there just a Peppino look-alike, where did he come from!?” Vigert’s voice would’ve been described as accusatory; he didn’t know exactly how Pizzahead could’ve been at fault for anything, but none of this made any sense to the troubled cowboy. And if anybody would know something, it’d be the great gun of the tower.
“Bruno, I like to call him,” Pizzahead stated matter-of-factually. “That’s not actually his name – technically he’d just be called Peppino too – but eh, it keeps things simple, doesn’t it?” Whatever his intention was in saying all this, the Vigilante clearly wasn’t assumed by it. Pizzahead couldn’t take anything seriously, like this was all a game; there was nothing funny about this. Vigert wanted answers.
The absurdly tall pizza man slouched a little, losing his smile for a comedic pout instead; “You must think I’m hiding something, don’t you? But I’m just an honest business man here! All I’m doing is fighting fire with fire!”
Vigi raised an eyebrow. So far, he was hearing a lot of stalling rather than explaining.
Sensing his hired hand’s irritation, Pizzahead tried to explain, “You see, Peppino has done nothing but torment me, you of all people would know how true that is, how he’s been tormenting my subjects…” he coughed, before changing his wording, “or well, the folks who live in this tower. He’s cruel, that chef is. He even sent me many scribbled letters, full of threats and insults – that’s actually how I got some of his DNA to clone him, some hair that fell off his bald head – but he was really getting to my psyche!”
“That’s why I’m not holding back here. He’s quite the perilous threat, seeing how he’s defeated my finest men,” Pizzahead motioned towards the cheeseslime himself in an attempt to flatter him. “So… why not scare him out of the tower, hm? Disturbing clones, hellish poltergeists, and enough guns and explosions to give a man war trauma – yes, it all might seem extreme, but I’m only doing what’s necessary for the safety of my business! However…”
The Vigilante waited, collecting himself and the information he’d gathered. “...But what?”
“He’s come so far. There’s a chance even the nightmares of our fifth floor won’t frighten him away.” The tall pizza-headed man glanced over at one of the television screens; Peppino was being consoled by his companion Gustavo, who had no idea what they were in store for. Pizzahead’s voice grew sour and malicious as his eyes squinted; “And that means I’ll need all the ammunition I can take before he reaches the top of this tower.”
The towering lad looked right at Vigert, whom even with his boots on and out, barely met the height of his boss’ leg. Vigi wasn’t scared of Pizzahead by any means; the pizza man was thin, and although the Vigilante knew better than anyone not to underestimate someone based on their build, it was still difficult to imagine Pizzahead winning in a fight against Peppino. It only made sense he was taking precautions, even if he may have been taking things too far.
The fifth floor always felt disturbed to the Vigilante. The decrepit statue which held the tower together and firm rested on this floor, but it looked so bleak and miserable, like a man stripped of his autonomy. And while he’d never ventured into the various portals on that floor, their entrances were frightening and eerie enough to ward off visitors. No more were there bright green pastures or sunnyside beaches; the rest of Peppino’s journey would test his dedication. If they were lucky, Pizzahead’s plan would work, and the chef would back off.
But if not…
“I was actually going to call you up here about this very subject, but since you’re here now,” Pizzahead giggled, “I have but one more favor to ask of you.”
Vigert scowled and sighed, his migraine rearing its ugly head again. “Let me guess, ‘nother bounty?” It wasn’t like his current ones were going too well. One, of course, he had no intentions of capturing whatsoever. But Pizzahead didn’t need to know that.
“No, no,” the business man laughed again, “This is still about Peppino. I’ll cut right to the chase here; I need your guns, your dynamite – any amount of armory you can offer.”
It was no surprise that the Vigilante’s face contorted, ready to object to such an absurd request. His guns – they afforded him the protection someone as renowned as a bounty hunter like him needed! And that made no mention of just how sentimental his firearms were to him; he could still recall his days as a boy, being taught by his old man how to aim his iron. He wouldn’t give up his weapons so easily.
Unfortunately, Pizzahead just didn’t care about whatever grievances the cheeseslime might’ve had.
“Before you go on and say no, need I remind you of your recent failures?” He placed his hands on his hips with feminine sass, “You’ve had several opportunities to catch Peppino and yet you’ve let him slip out of your slimy little fingers. The least you can do is let me borrow your guns – I promise I’ll return them, as soon as Peppino is taken care of.” There was so much emphasis and confidence in his words; it wasn’t if he “took care of” Peppino, it was when .
“You’ll still be expected to help me if Peppino reaches the top of the tower, and you’ll be able to use some of your dynamite obviously, but I very politely ask that you consider your position here,” he stated in a not-so-polite tone. There was such subtle spite within Pizzahead’s voice, as if to say, “You can’t do anything right. Let me do your job.”
“You weren’t able to beat him with your guns; why not let someone else run this rodeo per say, hm?”
It felt like the Vigilante really had no choice. But at the very least, he’d make damn sure his guns were returned to him once this hell was done with.
“Fine,” Vigert relented, making no effort to hide his distaste, “I’ll bring em to ya. Just don’t go firin’ em around all willy nilly, will ya?”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands,” Pizzahead leered, leaning down and shaking one of Vigi’s own. Everything was going according to plan.
~~~~~
Vigert walked out hanging his head once again. Perhaps he was being too concerned; after all, he wouldn’t object to Peppino receiving a shot of lead in the ass, regardless of who fired the bullet. But something in Vigi’s gut told him this wasn’t the right move, that he should fight back, keep onto his guns. But what excuses did he have? Clearly, this sharpshooter was in some sort of bad luck streak; Peppino escaped every attempted capture. He almost had him today, but even then, he failed.
It wasn’t Noisette’s fault things didn’t work out, though. Hell, even if she hadn’t screamed and distracted the Vigilante, chances were Peppino would’ve still ran off scot free somehow.
The cowboy wondered what Hazel would say about all this; Vigert having to relinquish his weapons, Pizzahead’s questionable methods in handling their pesky intruder. Clones were definitely a strange idea. She’d probably make a joke about it, calm Vigi’s nerves, and offer him another cup of Joe.
But they’d also have to continue their conversation from earlier. And quite frankly, the Vigilante had absolutely no idea what to make of it. But he had no time to rationalize any of it, because waiting for him right outside of Pizzahead’s office was the last person he wanted to see: the Noise himself.