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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1118077-Genos-Adventure-Chapters-1-To-3
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by Wizzo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1118077
Chapter one is incredibly strange, but necessary. It gets better.
Chapter One


         Geno, sitting in his stuffy math class, yanked his deep blue cape out from under his slightly faded blue jeans (he always accidentally sat on it). He ran his hand through his shoulder-length brown hair, unable to stop fidgeting. And how could he? He was eagerly awaiting the last shrill bell he would hear for three months, as today was the final day before summer break… He wasn’t even sure what the teacher was droning on about; his focus was squarely on the clock, which seemed to move in slow motion. He recalled that phrase “a watched pot never boils,” but he had never used pot, so he had no clue what it meant. In fact, he wasn’t even sure why he thought of that… No matter. School was nearly out, and that was his only concern.

         The child next to him, a known never-returner, who loved “borrowing” everything he could with no intention of giving it back, was fervently tapping Geno’s shoulder, hoping to borrow his pencil just before the bell rang so he would have one for next year. Geno, however, would not be distracted. With one minute to go, his mind was racing.

         60 seconds. How late would he stay up this summer? Four AM? Five?
         50 seconds. How many games would he beat?
         40 seconds. How many pizzas would he eat?
         30 seconds. Exactly how hot would be the heat?
         20 seconds. Why did his thoughts rhyme now?
         10 seconds. If an elephant crossed with a banana is equal to (elephant)(banana)(sin)(theta), does that mean that capital of Delaware is actually Michigan?

         1 second… Why is the clock not moving? “FOR GOD’S SAKE,” he thought, “I WISH THE SCHOOL DIDN’T HIRE SUCH LAZY CLOCKS.”

         He glanced around, and it seemed everything was frozen, not just the clock. “Oh my, I’ve gone and stopped time again. I really need to be more careful.” Snapping his fingers, everyone around him sprang into motion, including the clock.
The clock’s name was Jerry and he had three children, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is what Jerry is saying. And, what else could a clock say except, “BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ,” except that the clock didn’t say that, it was actually the alarm. Geno had no time to ponder this thought, however, as he was in a rush to get home and not do anything (certainly not go on any zany adventures) for three months.

         And so, Geno dashed out the door as fast as he could, but, like all the other children, was blown to the ground by the burst of air caused by the child running out of the school at Mach 1. This irritated Geno, because he had had several discussions with Ned about not doing that. Geno had no time to ponder this thought, however, as he was in a rush to get home and not do anything for three months.

         Thus, with Ned out of the building, Geno sprung to his feet like a cat who was just knocked down by a really fast kid named Ned and wanted to spring to his feet pretty quickly so he could get home and not do anything for three months, and was out the door in seconds.

         Geno, finally free from the demonry that is school, leapt into the air and flew home. He walked in the door, and found a slightly crumpled note, written on the back of a shopping list, sitting in his favorite chair. Unable to figure out what it was trying to tell him for several minutes, he finally gave up trying to use telekinesis and actually decided to read the thing.


         Geno,

         Your mom and I have gone to the store. Be back later. Try not to implode while we’re gone.

         Dad



         Well, that was a positive development. Geno always enjoyed being alone. Partially because he was an only child, so he was used to doing things by himself, and partially because people suck (this is a well-known fact, so no further explanations are needed).

         Wandering over to the couch, Geno turned on the TV. Not finding anything good, he eventually fell asleep, knowing he’d make it up by staying up all night.


Chapter Two


         After being asleep for several hours, Geno was awakened by a bright flash of light and the sound of electricity. Geno jumped up, frightened by what he saw.

         There was a glowing orb gradually increasing in size sitting on the floor next to the TV, and it seemed to be burning through anything it touched. After a few seconds, the orb disappeared, revealing a human figure kneeling down, and Geno couldn’t see his face because his head was tilted down. The person didn’t appear to be moving a muscle. As Geno was about to say something like “WHO THE CRAP ARE YOU,” the person stood up slowly.

         Geno then recognized him. His bald head gave it away, if his sleeveless white shirt (exposing large muscles) and camouflage shorts didn’t. It was Torvald, a friend from school!

         “Whoah. Dude, what the heck was that,” Geno inquired, rather stunned.

         “Oh, it’s this awesome new thing my parents got for me. You can teleport anywhere in the world. I heard they got the design from some movie, or something. Anyway, what’s up?”

         “…You realize you just burned a hole in my floor, right? That’s not too cool.”

         “Oh, right… Sorry about that.”

         “Whatever. Dialogue sucks, so let’s go do something.”

         “Agreed.”

         And with that revelation, the two friends walked out the door into the evening, not having a clue where they might be going. They wandered around for a while, until they eventually came across a cream-colored turban lying in the grass beside the sidewalk. Puzzled, they looked around.

         “…Where could this have come from?” Torvald asked.

         Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes beside them. Zero slowly emerged, unmistakable in his cream-colored khaki pants and sweatshirt with sleeves that were just a bit too long.

         “Howdy, Zero. I guess this is yours, then,” inquired Geno, holding up the turban.

         “Oh, yes, thank you very much. I was chasing my dog around and tripped over something, and I fell right into those bushes,” said Zero, adjusting the turban on his head.

         “Er, why were you chasing your dog around?”

         “Oh, he got out of the house somehow and he ran down this way.”

         “GASP. We can’t very well have that, now can we?”

         “…Why are you speaking with a British accent?”

         “Am I? It’s so hard to tell this way.”

         “What way?”

         “Nevermind. Anyway, let’s go find your dog.”

         So the three pals headed off down the street, shouting the name of Zero’s dog, Boing, as they went. After about half an hour, they gave up.

         “…Well… I guess Boing is gone for good…” Zero moaned.

         Torvald slowly came up with an idea. He thought for a minute that he might have a headache, but he slowly realized what it was. “Hey, why don’t we go back to your house and see if Boing came back on his own?”

         “BRILLIANT!”

         With that, they all dashed back to Zero’s house, only stopping once, when Torvald fell, scraped his knee, and sobbed quietly for around fifteen minutes. Upon arriving, they discovered a note stapled to the door. Zero’s first thought was, “WHO THE HELL STAPLED A NOTE TO MY DOOR,” and his second was, “Hey, I wonder what that note on my door says.”


         Dear jerk,

         We have stolen your dog. If you want him back, bring ten dollars ten-thousand dollars to the cemetary at midnight.

         Love Signed Screw you,
         The Alpha Gang

         PS – If your dog has rabies, please also bring a rabies shot. He bit me when I tried to feed him a tofu hot dog.



         “Holy smokes! The Alpha Gang kidnapped Boing!” exclaimed Zero.

         “…Holy smokes?”

         “Shut up. You are completely ruining the moment, here. The setting was, like, dramatic and tense, and then you completely screwed it up with your sarcasm. Why do you always do that? Seriously. Every single time I try to-“

         “Bitch, bitch, bitch. Fine, set me up again. Try not to be quite as homosexual when you do it.”

         “…Good gravy! The Alpha Gang kidnapped Boing!” exclaimed Zero again.

         “Okay, seriously, ‘good gravy’ wasn’t much better.”

         “I am going to murder you.”

         “Nah, I’ll be fine. But for now, what’re we going to do about the Alpha Gang?”

         And so, the three heroes (Yes, as quiet as he was, Torvald was still there.) formulated a plan. And not just any plan. This plan was the most planniest plan you’ll ever hear. I’m not even joking around. If you heard how complicated this plan was, your brain would explode. You’d just be standing there one minute, and then the next: BANG, dead. It wouldn’t be too pretty.


Chapter Three


         Geno, Torvald, and Zero, after much formulating and many, many pizza pockets, were just putting the finishing touches on their magnificent plan. Did I mention what a fantastic plan it was?

         “That narrator is starting to piss me off,” whined stupid-head… I mean Geno. “Hey! I heard that! You’re not even supposed to be in this story! You’re just here to explain our actions to the readers!” Yeah, well, deal with it.

         “…This is getting weird,” Zero mumbled. “So, what do you say we go over the plan one more time?”

         “Ooh! Ooh! I call doing that,” Torvald squealed, hoping to finally have some dialogue.

         “Just as long as you promise not to crap your pants.”

         “HEY. THAT WAS JUST ONE TIME. Anyway… So, here’s the plan,” Torvald said, snatching the sticky note the plan was written on. “We head off to the cemetary at around 11:30, and wait on the park bench. Then the Alpha Gang shows up. Then we punch and kick them a lot, and they give us Boing. Then we go to the ice cream store and get Torvald some ice cream.”

         “No.”

         “I hate you.”

         “It happens. Anyway, it’s 11:31 now, so we’re doing a bang-up job with that plan so far. What do you say we head down there?”

         With that, they were off for the cemetary, only stopping once, to get some ice cream for Torvald.

         “Thanks, Mr. Narrator!”

         No problem, Torvald.

         “This seriously has to stop,” whined Mr. Whiner-Head Geno.

         On arriving at the park, the three instantly became a little creeped-out. Geno slowly creaked the large rusted-metal gate open, and they dashed inside, galloping past chipped headstones and old, dying willow trees. Geno attempting to hold his cape down, Zero attempting to hold his turban on, and Torvald attempting to hold his shorts up (he had forgotten his belt that day), a few bolts of lightning set the mood nicely.

         Out of breath, they stopped at the agreed meeting place, right in the center.

         “Hey… Why were there… Lightning bolts… Just now,” panted Geno.

         “I… Don’t know… It’s not even… Cloudy,” agreed Zero.

         “I dropped… My ice cream,” groaned Torvald. (It is important to note that Torvald eats a lot of ice cream, and this one cone will not be severely missed.) “I miss it so severely,” he sighed, feeling betrayed by the gravity he had come to know and love.

         They waited on the cold, stone bench for around ten minutes; Torvald throwing a tennis ball up in the air and catching it repeatedly (he always carries it with him in case he might have to wait for ten minutes in a cemetery some time), Zero meditating, and Geno reclining with his eyes closed, flipping around a switchblade.

         Finally, three members of the Alpha Gang walked out of the haze, one carrying a briefcase, one carrying a sword, and one carrying a gun.

         “Alright. As you can see, we’re in no mood for playing around, here. This briefcase is pretty hard. It’d be a shame if I had to hit you in the head with it. Where’s the money?”

         Geno and his friends stood up; Geno still holding the switchblade, Torvald putting away his tennis ball.

         “Sorry, we must’ve forgotten it. Where’s the dog,” Geno asked in a less-than-polite tone.

         “Whoah, whoah, whoah. Let’s watch the less-than-politeness, there, sonny. Apparently you forgot about… Y’know… This briefcase. Like I said, it’s pretty hard, and I’d hate to-“

         “BOSS,” interrupted the sword-carrying Alpha.

         “WHAT?”

         “Me and the other nameless henchman, here, have weapons, too.”

         “Yes, yes, we’re all very frightened.”

         “If you girls are done kissing, we’d like to beat you up, now,” Geno added.

         Unspoken, the three split up, forming three one-on-one fights: Geno against the sword-carrying Alpha, Zero against the gun-toting Alpha, and Torvald against the suitcase-wielding Alpha. They began to separate from each other, slowly.

         Geno quickly realized he didn’t have what you’d call a fair fight on his hands. His switchblade against the Alpha’s sword was rather uneven… Poor Alpha. Geno quickly threw his switchblade at the Alpha… Only to have the Alpha bring his sword up, quick as lightning, to block it.

         “Well, I see you’re no amateur. Too bad that won’t help you.”

         Geno lunged forward at the Alpha, quickly ducking and then weaving left and right to avoid several sword-slashes. He slammed his first into the Alpha’s unshaven face, knocking him off-balance.

         “Maybe this will be fun after-all,” the Alpha said, wiping a streak of blood from his mouth.

         Zero was squaring off with the gun-toting Alpha, who seemed quite confident in himself.

         “Well, it’s been fun, kid,” he said, opening fire.

         Zero quickly brought his hand up in front of his face, forming a fist, only with his pointer and middle fingers pointing straight up, at the same time closing his eyes. “HUAAAAA!” he screamed, creating a mighty wind around himself, the bullets bouncing off of an invisible shield in front of him. When the Alpha stopped firing, Zero stopped concentrating, and the wind stopped. The Alpha looked stunned as Zero dashed towards him, knocking the gun out of his hand, and uppercutting him, launching him into the air a foot or two, so that he landed on his back.

         “…What are you?!” he asked with a certain fear in his voice.

         “I am… Indian,” was Zero’s reply as he strode towards him.
Torvald was standing about five feet away from his attacker, both of them staring at each other intensely. Suddenly they both lunged at each other, the Alpha swinging the briefcase, slamming it into the top of Torvald’s head.

         “OW. YOU JUST HIT ME WITH THAT BRIEFCASE,” Torvald screamed, holding his head.

         “Heh-heh… I told you not to mess with the briefcase,” the Alpha snickered.

         “IT’S JUST A DAMN BRIEFCASE,” Torvald screamed as he jumped about ten feet in the air, landing on top of the Alpha leader, and grabbed the arm holding the briefcase and began moving it in such a way that the briefcase was hitting the Alpha in the head. “STOP ALHPA-ING YOURSELF, STOP ALPHA-ING YOURSELF,” Torvald chanted.

         Meanwhile, Geno was dodging a flurry of sword-strikes.

         “This is getting boring,” Geno calmly said and suddenly brought his hand up and caught the blade.

         “You… You just…” the Alpha stammered, shocked.

         “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not all me,” Geno chuckled as he crushed the blade in his hand and stepped toward the Alpha, who immediately stood up and ran away, as did Zero’s Alpha. Torvald was still Alpha-ing his.

         “Torvald! Stop for a minute,” Geno shouted.

         “What?”

         “We need to find out where Boing is being kept, and he’s the only one left.”

         “Oh, yeah. Alright.” Torvald grabbed the back of the Alpha’s shirt, holding him up like a kitten. “Tell us where the dog is being kept,” he gruffly demanded.

         The Alpha coughed a few times and slowly whispered, “Hahahaah… You’ll never find him… Not even if I were to tell you he was being kept at the Alpha headquarters… Oh, damnit.” The Alpha ceased living.

         “Damn.” Torvald said, dropping the body. “Now we’ll never know where Boing is being kept.”

         “…I think he’s at the Alpha headquarters,” Zero said, matter-of-factly.

         “What makes you say that?”

         “Like I say. I’m Indian.”

         The three headed home to prepare for their journey.
© Copyright 2006 Wizzo (wizardmon5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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