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‘Stupid idiot,’ Zanka muttered to himself.
What was even going through his head? How did he even end like this? He moved carefully through the junkyard, with literal mountains of trash looming over him. This area was foreign to him, in the far end of the city. Akuta had a job or two around, but nothing memorable. The stench was horrendous, barely holding his gags back.
Did he really go that far for a joint?
Maybe it was foolish, but for once, he wanted to step out of the line. To give up on being the perfect student, the good Cleaner, the average Joe. For that day, he just wanted to be stoned Joe. That would be his little secret. But the worst of it all…
Did he really have to buy it from Jabber?
It was such a stupid idea, but he really couldn’t think of anybody else. He just had to hope some extra money would keep the Raider’s mouth shut. And also that it wouldn’t be laced with any neurotoxins.
A distant commotion caught his attention. He followed it cautiously, holding tight on Assistaff, ready to defend himself if needed. Step by step, perking his ears, he got the much-needed confirmation. That agitating, grating voice. Was the motherfucker talking to himself? Zanka peeked out from behind a pile of cars, inspecting the area. His eyes landed on the familiar silhouette, trying to figure out what the commotion was. He would have expected anything in the world, EXCEPT for the scene in front of him.
Blood ran cold in his veins. Shock? Terror? Who knows.
There he was. Jabber Wonger, in all his glory, arms full of small pieces of scraps and trash, throwing them one by one to a miniature-dimensioned trash beast. The creature was the size of a small dog, ugly, deformed and rusted. Were trash beasts even sentient?! This one seemed so, scrambling around Jabber for whatever he was throwing on the ground. That little shit was eating tarnished metal like it was some sort of top-tier steak, making weird, screeching sounds. And the idiot feeding it was surely just as excited.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
At some point, the small creature choked on an empty soda can, writhing around and squealing even worse than before. Jabber didn’t even hesitate to stomp his heel down on its head a few times before it spat it out. The Raider lifted his hands in the air, celebrating the survival of the beast. That little thing looked up at him and jumped a few times, too.
WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE EVEN LOOKING AT?!
‘Are you being for real right now?’ Zanka blurted out in shock.
The small creature startled and bolted between piles of trash, getting lost. Jabber fell to his knees instantly, calling for it, but to no avail.
‘Oh, come on, man… You scared Stinky!’ the Raider whined.
Zanka approached him slowly, face blank with disbelief.
‘... Stinky?’
‘Yeah, his name is Stinky, alright? Don’t know what he’s made off, but there sure is something rotted inside. He stinks like shit all the time. And it’s rich coming from me.’
A tense silence filled the space.
‘Are you literally trying to domesticate a trash beast?’ Zanka asked, baffled.
‘I didn’t try shit. I was busy around one day, and he just came and started gnawing at my shoelaces. What did you want me to do? I didn’t choose motherhood. Motherhood chose me.’
Zanka pinched the bridge of his nose, blood pressure already skyrocketing. ‘Don’t you have a hobby, Jabber? Like a normal person. Crimes against humanity not counting.’
‘Fuck off,’ he scoffed. ‘I have plenty of hobbies.’
‘Like..’
‘Like…’ Jabber murmured, trailing off. ‘Sometimes Zodyl drops me randomly in No Man’s Land and then beats me when I come back.’
Zanka facepalmed himself so hard it would probably bruise. It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.
‘You know what, forget about that. Do you have the… thing I asked for?’
‘You mean this?’ asked Jabber, showing him the small joint in his palm.
‘Where did you even pull that out?’
‘My ass.’
He froze. No. Just, no.
‘Ok,’ Zanka said, breathing hard through gritted teeth. ‘How much do I owe you for it?’
‘I don’t want money.’
‘Then what the fuck do you want?’
‘Reassurance.’
‘What could you possibly want me to reassure you about?
‘If an evil witch ever turned me into a flower, would you water me every day?’ asked Jabber, hopeful.
It wasn't his fault for being born the way he was. But it was certainly Zanka’s fault for putting himself into that position.
‘I would rather set myself on fire.’
‘Nuh-uh,’ Jabber wiggled his finger. ‘If you want the weed, Mr. Bad Attitude, that’s not the right answer.’
‘Fine,’ he huffed, a migraine already splitting his brain in half. ‘I’d piss on you every day to keep you alive and thriving. Extra nourished. Happy?’
Jabber fell silent, dead serious. ‘You shouldn’t say shit like that. Lotta sick people around nowadays.’
Zanka cocked an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, like me. So pull it out and let’s do it.’
In the last 10 minutes, Jabber reached the performance of stealing 10 years out of his lifespan. He might as well just go and take a nap in the Polluted Zone. His brain would get just as deprived of oxygen. He turned on his heel, cursing himself and his choices.
‘Wait.’
Before even fully turning, Zanka caught the joint by reflex. He watched Jabber suspiciously.
‘The only thing I want from you, mister Cleaner, is to tell me next time about the trip you’ll get from it. Also, I can't help but wonder how a good lil’ boy like you ends up craving a smoke?’ the Raider purred, smirking.
‘Fuck off,’ Zanka replied, holding it carefully with two fingers, as he could get drugged just by touching it. ‘Did you put anything else in this thing?’
‘Just my hopes and dreams.’
‘...Oh?’ he replied, tucking it doubtfully in the inner pocket of his jacket. He had to leave soon, or his brain would literally explode out of his head. He knew better than to insist on money. ‘Thanks for this. I owe you one,’ he said before turning to leave. ‘Make the world a better place, Jabber, get yourself run over by a car or something.’
‘Stop being so grumpy, Mr. Bad Attitude!’ Jabber yelled from a distance. ‘If you ever get sad, you can have my shoulder to put your legs on!’
Zanka picked up the pace, irritation already suffocating him. A goddamn stupid idiot, that’s what he was. All of this. Just for a smoke. He was so ashamed of himself, but at least it was over.
Before reaching the exit, a small sound caught his attention, stopping him in his tracks. The little creature emerged from a junk pile, screeching mindlessly. Stinky? His hair perked on the back of his head. That little shit was so ugly it creeped him out. Curiosity got the best of him, frozen in place, watching the small beast ‘sniffing’ around his legs, looking for small pieces to ingest. It was absurd, but perhaps revolutionary? Taming trash beasts? Maybe he should take it and bring it to Headqu-’
That shit just barfed engine oil on his shoes.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK