***
The cohorts finished walking the length of the empty gully. They all turned around to observed their decent from center city of Awful, Ohio, listening to the steady sounds of blades beating in the back ground from the patrolling helicopters surrounding center city. They turned back around, embraced by the empty parking lot of the hot sauce warehouse. Because the hot sauce warehouse had been forced to shut down, all the employees were locked away in their homes, fearing the aliens, praising the enshrined accumulation of garbage that they had collected over the years. Sammy Ammo and his cohorts observed the solid base of the warehouse, staring up at its roof, watching it earnestly reach for the sun. The sun was still dangling, exposing the hot sauce warehouse for Sammy, Wilsie, Chuck, and Doink, as they all stood before the warehouse, anticipating the deliverance of their destinies that rested inside.
Wilsie, empowered by the duty given to her by Sammy, looked all of them in the eyes, deploying her knowledge to direct their actions.
“OK,” informed Wilsie, “the eagle’s nest does not have an entrance from inside of the warehouse. So the only way to get inside is from the roof. There should be some sort of door that will allow us to enter.”
But the orders didn’t go over so well with Chuck Splatter. He could feel the words crawling over his skin, which he confused with his body lice. Chuck was still frustrated that his plan to prove himself more valuable than Wilsie had faulted. Chuck developed a vendetta against Wilsie, and sought vengeance by assuming suspicion against her actions, which he planned to reveal to Sammy Ammo. He used his imagination to combat Wilsie’s knowledge, envisioning an alternative motive that influenced Wilsie to override Sammy’s destiny for her own subjective goals. Chuck Splatter convinced himself that Wilsie would purposefully conduct the interview so that she would be rewarded with the information for the sake of her own articles, rather than for the completion of Sammy’s destiny. He continued imagining, concluding that she would even acquire the chip for her own needs, and broadcast the contents of the chip to Awful, Ohio, so that she could receive all of the glory and praise for the exposure of Mad Ted. Chuck found his imagined news to be devastating for Sammy’s destiny, deciding that it needed to be brought to Sammy’s attention immediately.
The four intruders had managed to climb to the top of the roof by using a ladder that was attached to the side of the warehouse. Rung after rung, they progressed closer to their destiny, finally reaching the roof. But to their surprise there was no door or stairwell leading to the inside. The roof was entirely flat, with the exception of a protrusion pulsating from the surface, glowing ominously like the breathing amber of a orange-tipped cigarette. The protrusion was positioned in the perfect center of the warehouse. It was domed shaped, like a pimple, glowing, and beating like a heart. They approached the apparatus, unsure of how exactly to pursue.
“What is it?” Doink asked.
A heavy bass was thumping rhythmically from the dome, increasing in depth, resonating heavily into the eardrums of the spectators surrounding the doming protrusion. It had the outer appearance of a jell-o mold, belonging as the center piece of a Thanksgiving meal. Its diameter was perfectly circled.
“Only one way to find out,” said Chuck, as he pushed Doink on top of the pulsating dome. Doink fell on top of the dome, absorbed into the gelatinous trap with each pulsation of his panicked body. Part by part, he was swallowed like quicksand. He started yelping erotically, as the compound was warm and pleasing, caressing all of the boundaries of his body. It gripped every square inch of his skin, stimulating every nerve. His erotic yelping was finally muffed, when the dome’s content had finally swallowed his head. Sammy, Wilsie, and Chuck all watched Doink’s body blur through the translucent surface like a hologram, as the opaque compound completely swallowed Doink, disappearing into the bowels of whatever it was that he had just entered into. The dome then retracted back to its original shape, glowing once again in the ominous orange pulsations, that bumped rhythmically with bass vibrations.
“Where do you think he went?” asked Sammy Ammo, pointing his pistol wielding fin at the dome, anticipating it to attack.
The three of them were still huddled around the protruding dome, staring at the structure.
“It kinda looks like a stomach,” recited Chuck Splatter, watching the rippling compound tingle with pulsating vibrations, peering for a belly button.
“The location of this thing is directly above the eagle’s nest that should be housing Mad Ted. So, Doink must’ve fallen all the way to the eagle’s nest,” concluded Wilsie. “This must be how Mad Ted enters into the eagle’s nest.”
Sammy intently stared at Wilsie, wanting more evidence for her conclusion.
“I mean, this should lead to the eagle’s nest,” justified Wilsie, staring back at Sammy. Her pony tail was tightly tucked behind her ears, oscillating with the vibrations from the pulsating dome.
But Chuck Splatter took notice to Sammy’s intense stare of displeasure. Chuck reacted, lunging for Wilsie. She tried to get away, but Chuck managed to grab her pony tail. The pony tail bit his hand, but without any teeth, it was unable to inflict enough pain for him to release her. Chuck Splatter restrained her kicking torso, as he fed her to the glowing, orange dome, like a sacrificial virgin.
Her body landed on top of the mound, absorbing all of the shock from the force of her fall. She flailed her arms, but the compound bound to her body like fly paper, swallowing her faster with every exertion of resistance. She started yelping erotically, as the compound had engulfed most of her body, coating every inch of skin beneath her neck, stimulating every nerve pleasingly. It was gratifying and sensual. Her yelping finally ceased, as gravity forced a final push of her head, into the gelatinous compound.
Chuck Splatter and Sammy Ammo stood around the dome, watching Wilsie’s figure slowly disappear into the orange swell, leaving Chuck Splatter alone with Sammy Ammo on top of the roof. Chuck watched the sun, sinking further into the west, leaving a glowing residue of amber light that coated everything in a maudlin sheen. Chuck then looked towards Sammy. He hadn’t been able to enjoy a moment alone with Sammy since they had first met. He admired his tenacity and envied everything that he was, venerating Sammy’s coagulated being as an immortal deity standing before him.
Chuck Splatter swallowed his pride, wanting to tell Sammy his imagined news of Wilsie, sabotaging the interview, and taking the computer processing chip for herself. The silence on the roof top was strong, intimidating Chuck. He gathered his courage and thoughts to confront Sammy with his beliefs. But as he turned to confront Sammy, Sammy was gone. Sammy Ammo was leaping into the air, tucking his knees into his chest, somersaulting like a ninja, before erecting his body into a straight figure, diving gracefully through the orange mound head first. Sammy was quickly swallowed, leaving Chuck Splatter, exposed in the sun’s residue, cemented in his entrapment of silence, staging his solitude and unfulfilled emotions on top of the warehouse, before the compassionless sun.