GUN DRACULA VS SKY COP, Part 12: The Eternal Road Trip, Part 4 — Hell Yeah, Man

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“How’d you like it?” asked Liquid Jaguar God. He had exited the bedroom with the bathroom behind a moment ago, and was now wearing a shirt. The shirt had a big skull on it, and the skull was on fire, and behind the flaming skull were two tumbling dice (perhaps a Rolling Stones reference?), also on fire, and the enormous letters BORN TO LOSE BABY emblazoned around them, wrapped in tribal tattoo patterns. He also had a rolled up poster of some kind in his hand.

“It was… The women turned into cars? And had swords?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Why were they fighting the moon?”

“Oh, the moon had gotten sick with a digi-virus that corrupted its Dream Unit. It had been a kind of leader or mentor figure in the previous series, Ultimate Lunar: Stellar Secret Service Series Selection [[S5]]]. I thought it covered that stuff in this, but maybe not.”

“No, it just jumped into the girl, the one who was I think a garbage truck? She was yelling at the moon and had two ice sabers.”

“Matsuko, yeah.”

“It was fine.”

“I feel like I should have shown you some of the previous Ultimate Lunar: Requiescat stuff. ~FINAL DREAM was the name of the last season, and the EZ subseries were little one-shot movies or short films that followed up and wrapped up threads. This was to set up the sword-oriented focus that the next Ultimate Lunar series is supposed to have, but I’m not sure why they’re keeping the name if the moon is dead at the end.”

“I don’t know what any of what you just said means.”

“Dog, just shut the fuck up and let me talk about my animes.”

Gun Dracula nodded. “You’re right, dude. My bad. I’m glad you love this shit. Is that what all the wall scrolls are of? I recognized a couple of them.”

“Mostly, yeah. I like lots of anime and manga and shit, but Ultimate Lunar is my jam. It’s got this really big world and a lot of branching timelines and toylines and games and stuff and… I don’t know, I just fell headlong into it. I don’t normally like this kind of shit, you know? Or at least, I didn’t. I’m a fuckin’ jaguar martial arts master. I like stuff with cars in it, or babes, or gnarly fight scenes. But just, like, the colors and the designs and the energy of those scenes, and some of the really mind-bending shit in there, you know? It’s goofy, but it’s sincere, and that means a lot to me, since I’m getting really fuckin’ tired of media that’s hinged upon being embarrassed of being itself. I think that sends a really rotten message and bakes in a lot of bad tendencies in people that I’d rather not see. Just don’t tune in if it’s not your thing, you know? And let people have their own. You don’t have to watch it, and you aren’t bad if you don’t, but don’t come in and force creators to be apologetic of their shit. Just leave well enough alone.”

“I liked how the moon had a gun. That was tight, to me.”

“Haha. Yeah. The Lunar Buster Drive Cannon.”

“Yeah, the gun.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, did you get your shit?”

“Yeah. Got my cool shirt, took a shower, took a shit. Ready to go.”

“What’s under the arm?”

“Oh, it’s my lucky martial arts poster. It’s just pictures of dudes punching and kicking. I found it in a mall when I was 14 and I’d stand in front of it practicing the moves on the poster until I became a master of martial arts. I also bought some swords from the same kiosk and I’d drive around with them in my trunk when I was a teen and show them to girls but I lost those swords.”

“What happened to them?”

“They fell out. I got rear-ended. Or, rather, I backed into someone in a parking lot. It was pretty bad. Busted the latch on my trunk and didn’t get it fixed for a while. The swords fell out on the highway when I was going like 70mph.”

“Fuck man that’s not safe.”

“Yeah I think the people behind me died. The laws are weird where I’m from. Something about worshipping the sun and building shitloads of ziggurats, like seriously we had like four going at any given time and we already had a couple fuckin’ hundred ziggurats just like around, it does weird things to the brain. So it was chill. The cops were like, that’s fine. Also I’m a god to them so they can’t arrest me.”

“Oh shit. That reminds me of how I straight like fuckin’ impaled some dudes through the ass and out the mouth on big ass sticks and ate food under them and drank the blood, and everyone was like ‘Damn,’ but they couldn’t do shit about it because I was their ruler. Then I became a vampire and lived forever, until now.”

“Sick, dude.”

“Anyway, let’s go kill a big cone.”

“Yeah, man.”

They went outside, to the car. Liquid Jaguar God loaded up the poster in the trunk.

“You’re putting a tube in my ass!” cried Kinetic Liquid Astrology.

“Don’t make this weird,” said Liquid Jaguar God.

“Hey, Killa, did you name our little gang after that anime that Liquid Jaguar God showed me inside?”

“Dream Patrol Unit 01! I love anime!” cried the car.

“Yeah, I set the TV up on a stand by the window so it can watch from the driveway,” said Liquid Jaguar God.

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Gun Dracula. “So where’s the big cone guy.”

“Oh, I know where his house is,” said Liquid Jaguar God.

“The Antarctican wastes of the ziggurat buried within the cold mountain of madness!” said Kinetic Liquid Astrology.

“Oh damn,” said Gun Dracula.

“So we’re gonna drive to that, and then we’re gonna kill him, with guns and kicks and burnouts and shit.”

“Hell yeah, man,” said Gun Dracula. “Hell yeah.”

“Hell yeah,” said Liquid Jaguar God.

“Hell yeah,” said Kinetic Liquid Astrology.

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