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Yet Another Party Objects To The Hijacking Of The Flying Pussyfoot

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Goose slid open the compartment door and stepped inside, and the guards behind him closed it with a bang. Every eye in the dining car was on them, faces fixed in looks of shock, hands trembling in fear.

“Now listen closely,” Goose shouted, smiling as people gaped at the machine gun in his hands. “We’re taking over this train! Any resistance will put be down immediately, and we aren’t taking any prisoners. So if you want to disembark in one piece, you’d better cooperate with all of our demands!”

“Again? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Everyone turned to the back of the car as a short kid in a red coat got out of his chair.

“I could’ve sworn I just kicked you assholes out of this car, and now there are more? What the hell, when did you find time to change your suits?”

Goose frowned. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I won’t take any mouth from you, you little brat!”

The kid’s face became visibly redder. He took a deep breath.

“WHO’S SO TINY HE HAS TO STAND ON HIS TOES TO SEE OUT THE WINDOW—”

“Brother, he didn’t say any of that. Would you calm down?”

Goose gaped as a huge man in a suit of armor stood up, hitting his head on the chandelier as he did so. The armored man tried to placate the kid, who was now rolling up his sleeves, a furious look in his eyes. The guards on either side of Goose exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Hey!” Goose bellowed, and there was silence in car once again. “I gave you fair warning!” He strode over to the man and the kid, cocking the trigger as he did so. “I told you to shut up, shrimp—”

He was met with a metal fist to the jaw.

The passengers flinched and one woman screamed as the kid jumped on Goose, pummeling him mercilessly. Within a minute, Goose slumped to the floor, out cold. The armored man sighed and shook his head.

Staring at the bruises beginning to form all over Goose’s face, the guards snapped out of their stupor.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?” The one on the left smiled to the one on the right, and they walked down the aisle, their guns aimed at the kid’s head. “Looks like you’ll be the first victim tonight!”

They hesitated when the armored man suddenly stepped in their way, hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Now listen, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to just—”

Bullets rained on his chest.

The guard on the right dropped to the floor, howling in agony.

“Aaaugh! The bullet, it—!” He clutched his leg, screaming.

The armored man sighed again. “I was trying to warn you!”

The guard on the left looked at his fallen comrade in horror, then unleashed another round.

“Why won’t you die?! Fuck!" He collapsed next to Goose, trying to stem the bleeding from the wound in his shoulder. "The bullet ricocheted!”

The kid laughed, to the passengers’ horror, as the armored man began dragging the thugs out of the way.

“See, Brother? This is why violence never solves anything.”

 


 

Rachel was carefully making her way across the iron tresses underneath the dining car when a steel-toed boot nearly struck her in the face.

Looking up, she discovered it belonged to a screaming blond kid in a red jacket, who was in grave danger of being blown off the train by the wind pressure. Luckily, two huge hands wearing leather gloves caught him and managed to swing him up onto the roof. The kid collected himself and started off in the direction of the boiler car.

Rachel rubbed at her eyes. They bought a lot of stuff at The Daily Days, but after tonight, she wasn’t sure she’d even believe her own story.