by GoozX, the doctor and I'm Not Mister Mxypltk
Outside:
Turner had left the apartment complex only minutes after he and Edulcore Cicciotto had arrived. Ed went off with Dr. Henry Quantos in an attempt to find answers to what had happened to him. While Turner listened in on the conversation for a few moments, he just couldn't stay in the apartment complex any longer than he had to. He felt odd and very out of place.
Walking hastily down the street, he didn't notice as he bumped into someone quickly moving in the opposite direction.
"Sorry," Grissom Montag said in his strong English accent, brushing his hands down his coat before noticing who he bumped into. Turner did the same.
Both men paused for a moment, thinking that they somehow knew this other person before them. Shrugging their shoulders, they both went in their separate ways.
Turner didn't know where he was going, but he needed to clear his head and think. He was here for a job, a job he knew he must finish. A cool breeze passed over his face, the fresh island air intoxicating. There were sounds in the distance of pleasure and enjoyment. Were the sounds getting closer? Turner turned and noticed a sign that said "Parade Today."
In the apartment complex:
Sam Dawson sat alone in his apartment. The television was off, as was the radio. He sat on a couch thinking deeply. A bottle dropped from his hand. It landed in an almost-silent thud on the wooden floor below. After a few moments, Sam got up, wiping his eye sockets clean and slowly walking toward the door. After exiting, his door remained slightly open, the reflections from empty liquor bottles lining his floor.
Sam got into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor, then the first. Finally, after what seemed like a long wait, the doors clicked open with a ding. Exiting, Sam made his way into the living area.
"Hey!" he yelled toward Shirley Francis, who was across the room. He turned and noticed Dirk Bell exiting the stairwell. A half-smile formed on his face as he walked toward Dirk.
"Hey, Bell!" Sam yelled at the man, only feet away. "We gotta talk!"
"What?" Dirk answered in a monotone voice, not caring for any more harassment from his new teammates.
"You sir, are an asshole," Sam replied, getting in Dirk's face, his breath causing Dirk to turn his head the other way.
"How much have you had to drink?" Dirk asked. "It's only one o'clock in the afternoon."
"That is none of your business. I want you to talk to you about your first day here in MY house. You came in, you, and threw your bags on me like I was below you, or some crap. You are not better than me, you egotistical prick."
"And this is your way to prove that?" Dirk asked, keeping his cool and not letting Sam get to him. Shirley stood up, but Dirk signed for her to sit back down.
By now, Sam's finger was pointed at Dirk's face, rage in his eyes. "I should kick your ass. Then maybe you'll learn to respect others."
"You could try."
Sam paused for a moment, before reaching back for a punch. In the split second his arm was back, Dirk pulled a blanket off the nearby couch and whipped it around Sam's neck, pulling him over the couch and onto the ground. Dirk knelt his one good leg next to Sam's head and tightened up on the blanket.
"Don't ever try that again," Dirk said in a cold, harsh, quiet tone before returning to his feet. "I'm just really not in the mood for this shit today," Dirk said as he exited the room.
Shirley watched as Sam still laid with his back on the floor, motionless as if in deep thought, contemplating what had just happened.
The gunslinger exited the complex and made his way down the street. There was a parade somewhere to his left. He took a right. The streets and alleys looked barren. Everyone on this island must have been at the parade.
The walk was hard. Not only was Dirk's leg in a cast, but he refused to use crutches to balance himself. He just took it slow and steady until he hit the beach. There, he found a nice place to sit, and he lit a cigar. He could hear the rumblings of a thunderstorm off in the distance. Clouds rolled in from the sea. Dirk couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that a stale old saying was going to find itself useful today. It was most definitely going to rain on someone's parade.
As he scanned the beach, he noticed something he hadn't seen in a while. An islander was coming up the shoreline. It was a little boy, to be precise, a load of fish slung over his back as he crossed the sand. "Somebody's got to make the doughnuts," Dirk said to himself when he considered the fact that not all the islanders were well off enough to take a break for a parade.
The boy saw him and gave Dirk an odd look. After all, he was wearing a trench coat in a tropical climate. The kid waved and smiled. Dirk responded in kind. He had nothing against kids. In fact, he loved kids. They were very close to himself. They didn't beat around the bushes about how they felt about things, and they did what it took to get what they wanted, no matter how difficult it could be. No, Dirk had nothing against children. It was when they grew up and became PC assholes that he had something against them.
The gunslinger watched the waves crash upon the shore as the sound of thunder grew closer.
Shirley sat on the couch to rest for a moment. For a normal day, this had been a crazy one. To think it had only just begun.
"I wonder where Mick is..." she said to herself as she turned on the TV and immediately got an answer to her question.
"Excuse, eh... Shirley, right?" asked Edulcore with a strong Italian accent as he walked into the room. "Could you tell me where to find Danny or Mick?"
Edulcore noticed Shirley was staring at the TV screen. "Ehy, is that the parade they told me about?" he asked. "Why are there weird lights and flying cows and...?"
Shirley looked at him, the look on her face saying, "Duh."
"Oh," Ed said. "Good old M'xy."
At that same moment, at the parade, M'xy noticed that the giant cartoon characters floating next to him were actually balloons.
"So unhappy you are with yourselves you have to pretend to be something you're not?" he asked the balloons.
He didn't get an answer, but he decided to help them out anyway, giving them lives of their own.