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“I’ve been looking for you!” Boothill tensed at the voice. Only relaxing after a full minute passed. He turned to look and found one of those IPC lapdogs. He shook his head with a sigh.
“I don’t think you wanna spin up this forkin mess,” he said. The lapdog stepped closer. That put him on the defensive.
“That proves it. The cowboy with a faulty synesthesia beacon.”
The lapdog stepped forward again. Boothill was a bit surprised nothing happened when they did. Either way he took two steps back. It was better to end this without a fight if they could, didn’t want to deal with the other possibilities.
“Listen, I’m sure the bounty’s plenty big an’ all, but there ain’t no reason we gotta light a fire today,” he said.
“Oh it’s nearly tripled since anyone last saw you. All those new crimes against the IPC have added up,” they said. Boothill grinned at the mention of his so-called crimes.
“Now what have I done against the shirtbag IPC?”
“The list is miles long.”
“Recently ya muddle-fudging…”
“Let’s see… destroyed an IPC testing facility, destroyed a safehouse, stole more than half of the food stores from along the path to this point, and fabric for some reason.”
“Come on now,” Boothill took a few steps back, digging in his heels as he did so, “how could any lone son of a nice lady do all that?”
“That’s what we’re gonna find out when I take you in.”
Boothill sighed, but accepted things weren’t going as he wanted. He considered diving for his weapons. Except if he took a shot it sure as fork wouldn’t miss. A promise that he’d made kept him backing away instead.
“Enough’s enough cowboy,” they said. Boothill shook his head.
“This really ain’t a fight you wanna start ash-vole!” he shouted as loud as he could.
“Come on now, no one’s around to hear you. This planet is completely deserted.”
The lapdog took aim. Boothill dove to his own weapons. A few shots chased him. If his shout didn’t work that certainly would. He rolled to a stop, stood, and took aim. The lapdog kept their gun steady. Right at his heart. The whistling of the wind was the only sound as they stared each other down. A subtle tell that exactly what he wanted had come to be.
“I warned you, but you IPC ash-voles never listen,” he said. Failing to hide his grin.
“What do-”
They were cut off by a loud noise. The two locked eyes. Silence as the lapdog tried to figure out what happened. It lasted long enough Boothill thought they didn’t make enough of a ruckus. Then, just as they opened their mouth, another loud noise came.
“What the hell is-”
Again they were cut off. This time by a noise much louder. Deep, slow, and ominous. Worst of all it sounded like a voice. A voice that was made all the more terrifying by what it said.
“Boothill.”
Before either could react the ground started to move. Boothill managed to keep his balance, but the IPC fudger fell to their knees. If it could, his grin would split his face. After a few seconds the very ground they stood on started to rise. No one could blame him for having a bit o’ fun at the ash-vole’s expense.
“What’s going on?” they yelled.
“I tried to warn you, but none of you fudgers ever listen. It’s not up to me what happens anymore,” he said, trying his best to sound grim.
“What do you-”
“Boothill?” the voice said again. Louder this time. The IPC ash-vole flinched.
“What i-is-”
Cut off again, but this time because the land beneath them changed. A deep dark green covered the look of the sand they’d been on. Boothill chuckled to himself at the shock of the ash-vole. Hadn’t even noticed when the ground lost the gritty feeling for something more like a bed.
“What…?”
“Those shots of yours were probably what set us over the edge,” Boothill said. “This son of a nice lady ain’t gonna let us go now. Warned me not to wake ‘im up.”
“I-I don’t…”
Boothill waited. Watched as the green beneath them continued to appear. For it to split off into five directions. Golden rings sat high above them. He put on a look of sadness as the flesh colored towers made their appearance.
“This guy here told me I’d likely be his next meal if I bothered ‘im,” Boothill said. “At least you get to join the motherforkin party!”
The IPC lapdog screamed. In response the hand shot up faster. It knocked Boothill to the ground, but he didn’t care. The way the ash-vole acted made it worth it. His little joke was only helped when they were stopped near gigantic lips. Then the cavernous maw even opened.
“Boothill.” Stern and loud. Loud enough he even winced. “What is-”
His own shot silenced the behemoth talking.
“Hey there ash-vole. Taking shots at me is one thing. Don’t aim your fudgin weapon at ‘im!” he growled. The sigh that blew over them sent the comparatively miniscule gun flying.
“I think I understand.”
Boothill and the lapdog were brought up to sit in front of bright green eyes. They narrowed and Boothill actually felt a bit bashful. He hadn’t wanted to disturb the giant’s sleep. He climbed to his feet ready to start explaining, but the lapdog had other ideas.
“What is this thing?!” they screamed. “What the-How the-I’m getting out of here!”
The lapdog jumped to their feet and started to run. Boothill ran to catch them. Impossibly large fingers got there first. Pinched the person between them and pulled them from the palm. He watched as they were brought close to the green eyes. Felt the sigh as the fingers disappeared. He knew what was happening. Even before the eyes had focused back on him.
“Boothill, we talked about this,” the voice was soft now. Easy to hear. Almost like when they met and the man was a normal size.
“Dan Heng, I tried not to cause a ruckus.” Boothill walked along the palm until he reached the edge of one of the eyes. He placed his palm on the skin there. “I told the ash-vole to walk away. Ain’t my fault they didn’t wanna listen. Besides, I didn’t kill ‘em just like we agreed.”
“You didn’t have to tell them I was going to eat you two.”
“Aw, darlin’ I thought once they saw your eyes they’d know you’re no more a villain than that gray haired friend of yours.”
Another sigh. The eyes closed and the massive face pressed against his hand. Things had been hard on the Vidyadhara. Separated from the express, trapped by the IPC, and somehow stuck at this massive size. So big his hand could be a battle ground.
“Don’t worry darlin’. We’ll get ya back to normal and home to that crew before ya know it.”
“So you’ve said. I suppose we should get moving before anyone else shows up. That person from the IPC will probably report they saw me. We’ll have an army on us.”
“Darlin, I could always scare those fudgers off if ya wanna keep resting. Wouldn’t mind a work out.”
Dan Heng chuckled. Boothill smiled at the way it made the giant hand bounce. His footing was unstable, he let himself fall. The hand was lowered to one of the massive shoulders. A force of nature and far too kind. Boothill jumped onto the shoulder and used the cloth they’d stolen to tie himself safely on the shoulder.
“It’s better we move on anyway. I’ve rested enough.”
“We could make more progress if ya used that cloud magic while we traveled darlin.”
“Then you wouldn’t get to see me either.”
Boothill laughed at that. It was true, he did have a bit of an interest in the man before. This new size had only increased it. Not too shocking when he started calling Dan Heng darlin’ instead of brother. At least it looked to be mutual.