Ms Brave and Ronco, Mecha-Schism

facing west flower girl flower girl

The errand of hell is still on you, Ronco turns around and closes the cold green door behind him. Ms Brave's cousin, Teeny make's a dry sound as if she's just swallowed an entire shingle all the way down and whole it rattles.
I can't see you but it can, He tells her. It's an extra-ordinary-nodule an, ex, oh, en, Ronco spells for her. We say zone. Ms Brave was there, that's why it's blue now.
You can't be here. Not now. You have to leave. If you walk in there she'll just cry more. Teeny's carpet looks bushy and abstract. There are rabbit ears in front of a hot wet wall and Ronco gets distracted by the butterfly stickers that are behind the chair. She's not being herself. She's been like this for days. What did you do to her...
What if I sit and wait here on the porch. Just like this, would this be okay...
You brought some dice with you, Teeny spits at his feet.
Pages 2 and 3: after the splash page is a long black line that runs across the bottom of 2 open white pages. The first is empty with the exception of the line while the second page has a series of interlinked horizontally oriented black rectangles with rounded corners. They'll be stylized word balloons that should have varied line weight. Sitting on top of them is the following naked red text dripping from the bottom justification (all caps) CHAPLAIN /AMERICA /THE MIGHTY /MECHA /SCHISM (tall blue, no outline, all caps, well formed, vertical character ). The overall effect of the text, bloody red and blue pulpit on a simple ground (see the proper notes. I've included a sketch)

My heart's racing like I'll never catch it. My eyes are closed tight. I can see the fuzzy little dreams of bright paisley that are dancing behind my lids. I'm being really quiet but it doesn't matter, Hey are you there Ronco...
Quiet, do you hear that, He answers like he's waiting for me. Maybe he is. I don't know because my eyes are closed.
Duck, Duck, it's a goose, I shout at him above the sound of the orchid thing.
Hardy Har Har, so funny I forgot to laugh, I open my eyes and see that his tongue is sticking out at me. 
Funnier then your face Ronco, I say as I try twisting around so I can face him.
It's doing it again... What color is it now Ms Brave...
School colors, same as before. What's that thing anyway, yuck...
I don't know, Ronco looks every bit as scared and tired as I am. But he puts a brave face on it, It doesn't hurt, not too much really.
The workshop reeks of gas and dry metal shavings. It might be bright as hell outside but in here it's just kabuki shapes spread out on greasy walls. The ratcheted stutter from the orchid's corolla as it turns on it's fine spindle is dense with repeating clack and the clack's twitchy reverb. Under the flashing ray teeth from it's bulb the shop's tools and cabinets snap and spasm like a fury of cartoon puppets. Very suddenly a series of shocks ripple across the pitted concrete and a barrel filled with glowing gloop-boorgle topples into the pit between their tables.
I take it back Ronco, I’m not kissing you now.
That's just so Ms Brave of you, so nuptial, counter-nuptial even.
Yeah well you're all court and no ball...
Ball, ball, ball, he yells back at her.
Then there's another noise, it's different, and more wound up now. It's like a horn from Bay 2, over and over it shouts. Its like slapstick that got turned up way to loud. It's like listening to the neighbor's horse being endlessly un-balled. It's a bad joke in all caps.
WHAT THE FUCK RONCO?
You're better at this stoned Ms Brave.
You're not helping, she huffs at Ronco. His eerie sack pulses purple. Ms Brave twists, flexing her shoulders left then right on her table. The webbing has some give to it but it won't slacken and the buckles are out of reach.
We can burn it.
I've got a lighter right here in my pocket.
Well it's fireproof that's for sure, Ronco laughs.
C'mon Mister Science-Head do something.
I'm praying way hard how 'bout that...
OK, OK...
Scene 2: The nurse's office, it's a tight squeeze separated into a waiting area and a slightly larger examination room. The waiting area is filled with a salvaged Desk and the 3 white plastic stacking chairs that sit across from it. The examination room has a raised examination bed and a 6’ steel single door cabinet. Their are no pictures or posters in the nurse's office. The lite FM of Air Supply and the tang of PineSol wrestle Greco style with the accumulated dust in the dry nap of the carpet. On the door, a handwritten note punctuated with a smiley face says, Back Soon. Ronco is passed out. He's sprawling across three chairs. Ms Brave reads it and continues to stand by anxiously. 
I hide my wadded up clothes behind a scrappy shrub. But first I pull out my wallet and the slip of paper that I took from Ronco in the office. My purse and my scarf disappeared. The nurse must have them still. Passing under the window I can hear a burst of happy claps. I stop, frozen until someone says, Let's get ice cream now. Then I hear Larry laugh out loud and I relax and exhale. With Major Bruce out of the picture the whole learning curve is a little less steep here at school. The bell is still brass but now they keep it in a box that's stored with the incomplete board games.
Fennel, you have Ms. Fennel. That's cherry.
Right...
Gah!
The Coupe de Ville I'm hiding behind is really really listening to VanHalen and that's really really sweet. A quick jag left then I sprint out from between a dirty Volkswagen and a Pinto. My gown keeps getting caught on shit. The cotton fabric cinches up under my elbows. The ties are mostly undone now. My knee is pretty banged up from falling out of that window. I need to wrap it in something, get some ice on it. Blood runs down my ankle. My converse are getting squishy. They're making fart noises as I go.
Wait, this menthol...
Sure, you asked right...
Someone with spiky hair is yelling at me from across the parking lot, for god's sake no. A girl in a baggy sweater starts to scream. Then she trips over her dirty gym bag. The loud VanHalen stops with a screech at, Junior’s grades. Mr. Business-In-Front turns around, dropping his hand-radio suddenly. He jumps up and twists comically, like he’s only now trying this out for the first time. Mr. Party-In-The-Rear lands with a bounce and a shuffle. His knees bend, Gah, I hate this shit.
It's, In brightest day, then in blackest night... not the other way dummy.
The sedan's back license plate is covered with a torn Hershey box and some electrical tape. I squat down until I see that it's side door is open a crack. I poke my head up over the pinto's hood and see Mr. Business-In-Front looking around. His weevil eyes poke at the cars and the bobbing heads around him.
shit shit shit...
Ah-Mandy, your silver tongue... What rhymes...
Seriously... Put that away.
Chaplain America leans out with a dramatic swoosh. I open the slip of paper that Ronco gave me. I check it one last time, It's the way that Alfred wrote the oath. I repeat those words as evenly as possible to the man sprawled across the front seat. He pulls out a long black gun. It's flat black and it clicks mechanically as he pulls the hammer back. The Chaplain's mustache is droopy beneath his limber eye's. He looks me over and asks, You Ms Brave...
Quickly I splatter him with, And I shall shed my light over dark evil For the dark things cannot stand the light The light of the Green Lantern.
That's not altogether right, Then Chaplain America waves his gun at me.

She leaps up from the metal table. She swings only once but its very hard, Ms Brave's punch connects with the ratcheting iris and it immediately cracks like a hard plastic shell. It shimmies once and then with a creaking tumble it finally falls over. Another piece of wet and broken science fiction bobbling in the deepening gloop-boorgle below them.
Still there's no time, Ronco know's they aren't safe. The Xon's pulsing quickens. He can feel it getting more agitated. He grabs Ms Brave by her arm and points up at the metal and glass door as it slowly descends. They had to get from here to over there and fast. Ms Brave looks at him from under her knitted brows and yells, Fuck. 
Ronco glares back but can't find anything else to add so he hugs her instead. The rush of his favorite things and the time that they've spent tied to these tables evaporates beneath the intense glare of her streaked eyes. Ronco snuffles and his shoulders go limp. His face is slack and both ears seem to droop like thin lettuce. The zone's gone flat too. Its pulsing stopped and now it's an empty fart joke. Ronco tells her that he's sorry for everything that's happened to them. He says that it'll never happen again. Never Never I swear it.



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