Tuesday, June 22, 2004

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Third Helping (Chapter XX)
[Holy crap . . . . . chapter 20 . . . . . over a month of work and still not quite finished . . . . . yikes . . .]


". . . hey, he's coming around," a voice said in the darkness of Cream's head. The detective groaned and tried to open his eyes. His vision was still blurry and there was little light, but he could definitely make out the figures of several men all around him. A sharp slap to the side of his face jolted the rest of his body into halted motion. He shook his head out and looked down at himself: he was tied to a metal chair with his hands behind his back. Another slap shook his head again, causing Cream to clench his teeth. He could faintly taste his own blood along the inside of his mouth, and although he was unable to move his arms or legs, neither seemed to especially want to move anyhow.

"You asshole," a man in a suit said to him as he lifted the bound officer's chin, "you made me miss my flight." Cream allowed a small grin to creep across his face.
"Sprinkle, I take it?" he asked. The man laughed,
"Hah, you wish!" He tossed Cream's head back and walked away in a small circle. "No, I'm not that good . . . still, considering everything, I'm not all that bad either, am I?" Cream ignored the question and looked around. Going by the line of plush toys along the walls and the rolled down metal barrier behind him, he figured they were all inside one of the closed carnival game stands. With a pair of flourescent lights along the top edges of the ceiling, there was sufficient light to see that he was vastly outnumbered even though he was unable to come up with a definitive number.

"Whadaya want?" Cream asked. The man laughed again.
"To not go to jail like all professional criminals, of course!" A few of the surrounding thugs chuckled at the comment. "And of course, having a cop chasing you halfway across the city isn't gonna help that problem very well . . . you should've stayed dead at the hotel, I think."
"If I had, I never would've gotten to come to Playland though," Cream answered, his grin still hanging from his face. The crime leader motioned to one of his men - shortly afterwards, Cream was given another blow to the face.

"Now, I know this isn't how these work," Cream said, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, "but I gotta ask, have you executed that one guy who shot at me at the hotel? 'Cause ya know, I didn't have squat on ya until he opened up . . ."
"Oh, don't you worry about him," the leader said, "after all, if he hadn't fired that shot, you wouldn't be here now." Cream smiled again.
"Wow, what a nice, homely bunch you are . . ." The leader spread his hands out.
"What can I say?" he said, "The media gives off such horrible misconceptions of us. Wouldn't you agree?"
"For you, I'll make the exception," Cream answered, laughing lightly in between breaths.

"Alright, enough circle-dancing," the leader said, turning back to Cream. "I'm sure you're curious as to why your body hasn't been dumped into the ocean yet, right?"
"The thought crossed my mine, yeah," Cream replied. "Now, to shorten the question period, this also ties in to why you led me here, right?"
"More or less, yes . . ." Cream shook his head one more time as his vision slowly started clearing up as the leader continued. "Now, you look pretty young, but I'm sure you've been around long enough to see some pretty brutal sights even within your own precinct, correct?" Cream's grin returned as he spoke.
"Ohh . . . . . now I see where this is going . . ." The leader chuckled again.

"That's right . . . good help is always so hard to find . . . especially the ones where you need them the most . . . . ."

Cream laughed hard before taking a blow to his ribs, leading to a short fit of coughing.
"If you're lookin' for a new name for the payroll, I'm gonna hafta decline," Cream said flatly. "Personally, those internal affairs guys are kinda creepy as is . . . ick . . ." The head man smirked.
"You sure, now? Because we don't have to shoot you if you say yes, you know . . . and trust me, the kevlar isn't gonna help you this time around . . ." Cream rolled his eyes as he smirked.
"Oh gee, if you put it that way, then I guess I'd just better throw my lifetime's worth of ethical living down the crapper and work for some bastard crime-dink like you, huh? My my, you have certainly shown me the way . . . how can I ever th- . . ."

Cream was cut off when another heavy blow hit him across the cheek, sending a line of blood across a section of the thugs. The crime leader sighed
"Man . . . what is it with you guys? From what I heard, the guy before you wouldn't do it either . . ." Cream stop smiling and sat up as best he could.
"'Dez?!" he exclaimed.
"The hell should I know what his name was?" the leader replied, "it wasn't me that did it . . ." The injured officer clenched his hands and tightened his lips for a moment.
". . . . . Ya know . . ." he said, ". . . I'm really starting to want to arrest you less and less . . . . ." The leader raised his eyebrows as he smiled fiendishly.
"Reconsidering?" Cream smirked again as he eyed the dealer directly.
"Nope . . . . . just thinking that it's very easy to write up a discharged weapon as self-defense . . ." The leader's face deadened at the comment.
"Someone do him in already?!" he commanded, starting a wave of men cocking pistols . . . Cream continued to smirk as he shook his head and looked back at the men . . . . .


Before anyone could fire a shot, a vast tumult exploded outside. Gunfire echoed like thunder around the small stall, causing everyone standing to instinctively duck down. From outside, someone banged hard on the metal screen.
"Hennig!" the person cried, "We got some psychos driving around the park blazin'!" Hennig's face went wide-eyed.
"What?!"


[Ya know, after a while, you really get tired of thinking up ways of referring to characters without names at the moment . . . heh . . . . . see ya in two!]
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