"Mah boss, Don Macro, 'eard about 'ow you shoved his girl, Mr. Angelos. An' he's callin' you out, you sunuvabitch."
Dirk felt the universe plummet out from him. Although that might have been the absinthe.
We now return to your regularly scheduled programme.
-------
"You what?!"
Dirk groaned, automatically bringing a hand to his temple as the hangover shot through him. "Not so loud, Jo!"
"Sorry." Josephine's voice dropped down to a level tone as she passed the fifth cup of water. "But you seriously-?"
"Not me," retorted the dark angel. "Them. Turns out that woman who pushed me was the daughter of some mob boss - Don Macro, or something like that, and he took offense at me standing up to her. He sent one of his goons to call me out on it - as if I was the one at fault here."
"Well, you didn't really help the situation to begin with," the chemist pointed out. And it was true - Dirk had told her about how he'd cursed out the young woman for lacking the manners to apologize. And, with the benefit of hindsight, that had not probably been one of his smarter ideas. The angel had to concede that point as he sipped his water, hoping to relieve the dryness of his throat from the alcohol of last night.
"But then he said that he was challenging me to - get this - a rap battle. A freakin' rap battle!"
Josephine's eyes widened. "Wh... what? Is that some alien custom or something?"
"Must be," Dirk replied with a shrug. If Al Capone ever challenged his criminal enemies to jazz contests, the history books would have said something.
"Anyway," he added, "I told him to sod off, as is my way."
"And then what?"
"Then he kicked me in the ribs and told me that unless I showed up at the Night Dome tomorrow night - well, tonight - then the boss was going to send more goons to find my room and trash it."
The chemist rolled her eyes, giving out an exasperated huff. "Seriously? I mean, I'd be more upset if the villains wanted to do some actual harm, but mere vandalism? That should be beyond a mob boss!"
"Maybe he's one of those petty types," Dirk reasoned. Well, of course he was. Who else would challenge somebody to a rap battle over something as trivial as their daughter getting pushed in a crowded shopping mall? That kind of crap happened all over the world, possibly even the universe, so trying to hold some kind of grudge over it was a dumb waste of time as far as the youngest Pitbro was concerned. If it was a respect or honor thing, that made it even worse - two of the biggest mafia cliches lumped together in a frozen ball of stupid.
As he sipped his water again, he realized that maybe bringing Pit along probably wouldn't have been such a good idea.
-------
As Pit reflects on the strange nature of the Palace's inhabitants, with Rin out of the way, he catches Satori looking directly at him. She leans forward to address him more directly.
"'Kooky', hmm? I can't fault you there, even if your group the 'Kobbers' seems to be just as strange. Still, I hope this hasn't changed your mind about Utsuho."
"Oh, no, of course not! I mean, kooky is good - it's what I've grown up with, after all!"
"Hmm, that's good. Perhaps I should visit this Manhattan place sometime."
"Oh, you should! It's got pretty much everything, and then some! I think they might still have the old Zoofights pyramid and are thinking of making it a national monument!"
Before Satori can reply, Utsuho chooses that moment to show up! Followed by a few new guests, who Satori quickly takes the task of welcoming and setting places for. Utsuho, meanwhile, immediately makes a beeline for Pit, sitting right beside him.
For a while, they eat in silence. Food 2Good.
-------
"Dirk?"
The dark angel blinked, dropping out of his hypothesizing like a sack of bricks. "What?"
"I said," repeated Josephine, with a tinge of annoyance, "that we need to do three things now. Firstly, we need to rehearse a song for this rap battle. That shouldn't be a problem, considering how good most of us Kobbers are at karaoke. Secondly, we need to kick this guy's butt hard enough that he doesn't bother us any time tomorrow." She took the glass of water from Dirk and sipped from it herself - she'd needed the relief from her own thumping headache as well.
"And third," she finished, handing the glass back, "we need to enjoy that vacation day, as if nothing had happened. Because I'm not letting this creep ruin the whole thing for us."
Dirk had to pump a fist into the air at that bit. "Preach it, Jo!" he hollered, followed by a groan of "Ow," as his headache reminded him it was there. But it was whilst he was nursing that particular annoyance that a sudden thought came to him - a thought that made him turn rather pale.
"Jo," he gasped out. "You kept saying 'we'. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I'm coming with you, obviously," was the response. "Who said anything about leaving you alone to do this?"
Despite the headache, which had thankfully dulled to a throb by now, Dirk sprang to his feet. He wanted to say that it was a stupid idea, that this was a mafia don they were dealing with and there could be all kinds of horrible stuff hiding in the shadows - goons, hitmen, hired snipers and stuff like that. For a second, the mental image of his beloved girlfriend taking a bullet to the skull flashed through his head, and it was Not Good. But then Josephine's hand found Dirk's shoulder, and he stopped before he even got the first syllable out.
Their eyes met, and there was that moment of silent understanding that occasionally happens between couples who have spent enough time around each other to understand thoughts without words.
"Don't worry about me." The chemist's voice was calm and confident. "We've both taken on things that make this guy look like a kindergarten bully. You took out a pair of Nibirians, right? And I've won a racing competition and beat down superhumans with a machine gun. This whole rap battle thing should be a cakewalk compared to them. I certainly think you could do it, anyway - you've sung before, and it was really good! And I want to be there to help you out, because you shouldn't have to do this on your own."
That was all the encouragement Dirk needed. With a smile, he leaned over and gave Josephine a massive hug.
"Thanks, Jo," he breathed. And he meant it.
"No problem." She pulled away, smiling back. "Now, get yourself smartened up. We've got lyrics to bust out tonight."
And as Dirk tottered over to the shower room, ever-grateful for painkillers, his girlfriend headed into the living room of their apartment and picked up the phone.
-------
Riiiiing... Riiiiiiing...
"Hello, mom! It's me, Jo! How goes it?
"Yeah, I'm alright... Yep, vacation's going pretty well. Dirk's been great! Helped me do all my shopping, took me out for drinks and a dance...
"Mom, stoppit~
"...actually, I was wondering if you could send something up? See, Dirk's entered this rap battle competition for tonight...
"...you would? Oh, thanks, mom! But do you think he could get here in time?
"..alright, I will. Love you too! Bye!"
-------
The Night Dome was oddly quieter than normal.
Oh, sure, there were still people partying it up, as there always were. There were still drinks being served, and people dancing in weird, sometimes almost mind-hurting fashions. But there was a subdued atmosphere in the club, as if the general party was just a holdover for something bigger. There was expectation in the air, with the knowledge that something was going down tonight heavy in the air and spreading like a memetic virus.
Dirk knew it, too. And he wish he didn't as he threaded his way past the throng.
"Calm down," Josephine kept loud-whispering in his ear. "You're gonna do fine." But as much as she said it, it didn't melt the ice in his head or calm the butterflies in his stomach. He had no idea of how long they'd been rehearsing their song - it was a pretty genius pick, they both agreed - but the gnawing idea that it might not have been enough wouldn't go away. Only time would tell, now, if it had been worth it.
Eventually, they reached the raised platform where the live concerts were held - several degrees higher up than the floor itself, it was in viewing range of practically the entire dome. And, surprise surprise, was the blonde-haired girl from yesterday - Hannah, her name had been. Dirk had only found this out from the mob boss, and was surprised he still remembered that bit of the conversation through the filter of absinthe and drugs.
"We meet again," she muttered, eyes like daggers.
"More's the pity," Dirk retorted. He was seriously not in the mood for this kind of bullshit, but it looked as though it was going to kick off, nonetheless. And it did, as Josephine shouldered her way past him to glare at the taller, thinner girl.
"She's the one who shoved you, Dirk?" she asked, eyes narrow. "Doesn't look much to me."
Hannah took one look at the chemist and snorted through her nose. "You're one to talk. Cut down on the tea cakes, dear, we can see where they've gone."
"Look," snapped Dirk. "As much as a catfight would liven up my evening, I'm not here for that. I'm going to rap battle your dad, and then get on with my vacation, because I came to this planet to relax, not get shoved around by a mob boss and his bitch of a daughter."
"Adopted daughter," was the immediate response. But not from Hannah.
It came from the giant blue bug scuttling towards them.
"...you're Don Macro?" gaped Dirk, at a loss for anything else to say.
The insectoid alien grinned. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard that," he drawled in a Boston accent, or as close to one as could be imagined coming from a giant bug. Hannah had moved to stand beside her foster father, a triumphant smirk of glee on her face - the sheer aduacity of it set the dark angel's blood boiling.
Josephine merely shrugged. "Not who I expected, but whatever. I've seen stranger." Don Macro shrugged in response to that one, then turned to Dirk.
"Just so you know," he rumbled, "I've got nothing against you, Dirk. I'm sure you're a good man, and I normally have better things to do that pursue grudges. But, well, you pushed my daughter - that's a matter of respect, that is. And I don't like people who don't give me or my family respect. I'm sure my boy made that clear to you?"
"Quite clear," grumbled Dirk, remembering the bruised ribs.
"Very good. And remember, if you don't give a good performance, then I'll send my boys over again. You don't want that, do you?"
Dirk was about to reply, something along the lines of "fuck no" when the tannoy came to life and made everyone jump.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would turn your attention to the main stage? We have a rap battle about to begin. Repeat, we have a rap battle about to begin." That was their cue, and as Don Macro scuttled one way, towards the steps on the left side of the stage, Dirk and Josephine headed off to the right side steps. The angel and chemist made a pointed effort to ignore Hannah, as she followed her father, mouth "you're going to lose" gleefully in their direction.
Soon, they had reached the top of the stage, and were aware of the crowd staring at them, a massive cheer rising up as they came into view. On one side, Dirk and Josephine, on the other, Don Macro and Hannah. And floating above them in what could only be described as the senate seats from Star Wars, were three judges. Dirk knew they were judges because they were wizened little creatures with bears, like a horrific cross between Yoda and Santa Claus. Obviously, they were here to decide who was going to win this one.
There was a pause that, as the screams of the drunken crowd slowly died down into quiet, seemed to last too long.
And then, as a kickin' rad beat dropped, Don Macro reared up onto his hind legs and began.
As soon as that was done, the crowd began cheering wildly. Don Macro dropped back onto his forelegs and made a show of preening himself with his mandibles, as if he had no other cares in the world. By his side, Hannah folded her arms and sneered at the couple opposite, as if already confident of her father's success. And, as far as Dirk was concerned, she had good reason to be. Those were some pretty dope lyrics, he had to admit - even with their crammed-in training, the couple seemed hard-pressed to beat it.
But then he turned to Josephine, and noticed she wasn't fazed in the slightest. In fact, in the dim lighting of the club, she appeared to be grinning.
"Hey, Jo," he whispered, poking her in the shoulder. "What's with the good mood?"
"Oh, nothing." Jo rocked on her heels, looking almost innocent. "Just waiting for the backup."
"...what back-?"
And then a low-slung, grey shape rocketed into the club, skimming over the heads of the crowd as it yelped and ducked, trying to get out of the way. It reached the stage, circled it three times in defiance of Don macro's angry yells and Hannah's shrieks, then halted itself just behind Josephine and Dirk before dropping heavily to the stage. After a brief pause, it unfurled itself, revealing long legs, a boxy body and what looked like a DJ's mixing desk.
And then it spoke.
"WHY DID THE MOB BOSS LOSE?
"BECAUSE HIS SONG WAS A LOAF OF BREAD."
And then this happened.
Yeah.
When that was all over, there was a long, awkward pause. The crowd had stopped cheering, creating the eerie effect of being shut up in a cave.
Time creaked onwards.
The cosmic dice rolled...
(Tractor Results:
Miniboss: 18
Dirk and Josephine: 19)
"Oh, come on!" wailed a god somewhere.
"The judges decision: Dirk and Josephine."
And the crowd went absolutely ballistic. Lights flashed, lighters flared, drinks were spilt and various objects were tossed at the stage, from bottles to underwear. It the moment afterwards, when the tightrope walker was safely across and was out of danger, and the glow of success was written upon his face like the lights of Las Vegas. That wonderful moment when the impossible became possible, and everyone involved is grateful the worst didn't happen.
But the cherry on the top, at least as far as Dirk was concerned, was the look of shock on Don Macro's face
-------
It was some time later, and Dirk was chuckling to himself as he strolled back to the room, a trophy in one arm and a bottle of wine in the other.
In the end, Don Macro had turned out to be a pretty decent sort of bug. He'd been beaten fair and square, and he knew it despite the petulant whinging of his adopted daughter in the background. So not a few minutes after the judges had made their decision, whilst Dirk had been at the bar, the dude had come crawling over with the bottle and made a small speech about how sorry he was and how his family ties meant a lot to him, since the Big C was coming up and all. Dirk had merely shrugged and said "eh, whatever" before downing what was left of his VK.
So on reflection, the angel decided, things hadn't been that bad after all. He'd had fun, after all, and gotten something cool out of it. And for once, he hadn't needed some kind of weird god-power to save millions of lives, which made a pleasant change.
Heck, he probably should have invited Pit along! He probably wasn't having as much fun to begin with!
-------
"So... how do you like the place?" Utsuho asked as she and Pit sat together on the sofa. "I hope it was worth getting you here!"
Pit nodded, smiling. "It was pretty cool! And it was great meeting all your friends and family! Even if they are a bit loopy, heh heh."
"That's true... but then again," the Hell Raven countered, "yours were too, weren't they? So it's only fair, really!"
"True enough! I mean, look at what Uncle Kain did! Auntie said it took three hours to clean the sauce from that rug, apparently." Pit shook his head at the memory, sighing. Uncle Kain, sometimes...
"Wow, really? And I thought the time with the cats was bad...
"...hey, I think Lady Satori wants to take a picture or something!"
Pit looked up, saw the scene developing, and realized there was a once in a lifetime opportunity here. And when one of those showed up...
"Sure, why not? Might be fun!"
And that was how Pit ended up on Lady Satori's yearly family picture. Just before the camera went off, though, he and Okuu decided to lean over and kiss, just to add some excitement to it.
-------
With such thoughts as these in his head, Dirk pushed the door open on his apartment to find...
"Well, this explains where you'd scurried off to during the celebration party," he quipped as he entered the room. Josephine looked up as he entered, smiling warmly at both him and the things he carried in his arms.
"I was looking to wrap some of the family's presents early," she explained. "Before we came back home." She gestured to the floor in front of her, which was now a veritable mess of wrapping paper, boxes and other assorted gift-related stuff. It looked as though a tornado had hit Santa's workshop, sung a vaudeville routine and skipped out without so much as a thank-you.
"Where's Skeiron?" Dirk asked, looking around the room. He was half-expecting the robot to suddenly walk out of nowhere and start playing Christmas songs.
"Went back home. Mom needs him to help with the food." And then Josephine noticed him looking at all the boxes and paper, and went a bit red. with embarrassment. Behind her, the angel only just noticed, was a small pile of other boxes, gift-wrapped in a rather hasty manner, with some having awkward folds in them and others a bit too much tape. How long had she spent working on all this?
"I don't suppose," she added, "you could help out? Some of these are such an awkward shape..."
As if she needed to ask. With a smile, he knelt down and, after giving Josephine a quick peck on the cheek, reached for the sellotape. He had a feeling, as he began to tear off a section of it, that the rest of the vacation would go off without a hitch.
And it did.
~ YOU HAVE BEEN READING~
DIRKMAS 3: Space Dirky
A Zoofights Roleplay Side-Story
Inspired by Space Dandy, Dragon Ball Z Abridged and More
Written by Steel Komodo
Also featuring "Pitmas" with help from RubyChao
~FEATURING THE FOLLOWING MUSIC~
"Viva Namida" performed by Yasuyuki Okamura
"I Wish It Could Be Christmas" by Wizzard
"Animals" by Martin Garrix
"Get It On The Floor" by DMX
"Pull Over (That Metal Too Fast)" mixed by Triple-Q
"Let it Snow" performed by Frank Sinatra
~ THANKS FOR READING!~
~MERRY CHRISTMAS!~
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