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Last Friday Night

  “Bahay… Kubo… Kahit munti… Ang halaman doon… ay sari… sari…” sang a younger Beatle in the arms of his two mother figures…

  Today…

  Chattering. In the cabin in the distance, a man could be heard cursing and muttering, while the voice was furiously dismantling a device.

  Death Leopard angrily tries to rebuild his device, slapping it over and over again before it malfunctions and electrocutes his hand. He grunts and angrily tosses it, only for it to bounce back and strike his face. Death Leopard curses and screams, punching the device before he screams as he breaks his hand.

  Death Leopard grunts angrily. “I wish I could…” he wheezed. “Return…”

  Above him, the Salt barrier seems to wither away, where in the distance, an 18-foot-tall being begins to walk up the mountain.

  Death Leopard sighs, still trying to fix his device, only for a Dire Wolf to barge in and start gnawing on his leg. “OH MY FUCK!!! AAAAAAAAAH!!!”

  Then, the wolf would be shot in the head by something. Death Leopard pulls its jaws out of his bleeding leg and looks closely at the dead Dire Wolf’s face, pulling out a small needle from a very tiny hole. This figure perfectly tossed a pin into the creature’s head.

  “HEY!!!”

  Death Leopard scampered away.

  The being wore a suit, strangely enough. He was very, very tall and walked in a menacing, peculiar manner, rocking his body forward and backward and dancing. Peculiarly, he was masked with what looked like a ski mask beneath those sunglasses. Death Leopard even backs away in fear of him. He was creepy. Very creepy. The strangest and most peculiar fact about him is that he had a single reflective goggle acting as his eye at the center of his head. “Good morrow, sir! My name is Cheapshot! I am a Neurodivergent Starman, yes! Well, it is illogical for a Starmnan. NOT to be Neurodivergent. That would be quite humorous, I have what they call Dyslexia! Hahaha! Can’t understand words for what it’s worth!” He spoke in a strange robotic manner, his voice whirring each loud intonation.

  Death Leopard backs away. “What the hell are you?”

  “Well, we made a breach into your little city and I can’t help but have heard how you actually defeated the Sant King!”

  Death Leopard smiles, “I did.”

  “Highly Logical of you, Leopard! Well, since that is the case, I would like you to kindly buy NFTs from me! HERE IS MY CARD!!!” He gives him a card, showing a picture of him pointing a gun at the reader.

  “Who are you?” Death Leopard reached for his gun subtly.

  “I AM CHEAPSHOT!!! Highest Accuracy, Precision, AND INTELLIGENCE in this GOD FORSAKEN PLANET!!!” He then tossed a pin that stabbed Death Leopard’s hand before it even touched the gun.

  Death Leopard screams.

  “I AM CHEAPSHOT!!! I heard you were intelligent, yet that was highly illogical of you!”

  “Okay, Cheaptrick.” Death Leopard frantically read the card.

  “CHEAPSHOT!!!” he roared. “Cheaptrick is the name of the company! Says there on the card!” He gestures to his business card.

  “Well, Cheapshot-...”

  Cheapshot once more gestures to the card. “Yes, that is the card!”

  Death Leopard is shown to be incredibly annoyed by him. “Uh-huh. Have you been checked for ADHD?”

  “I am ADHD! I also have STDs from all the Human Trafficking from my NFT Business!” he smiled, speaking in such an eloquent yet morbid manner.

  “Okay…” said Death Leopard. “If I buy this NFT from you, what will you give me?”

  “That NFT!!! And a way to kill the Saint King!” he smiled, bending his head like a walking stick above him.

  “Who do you work for?” Death Leopard stared at the giant man.

  Cheapshot’s insignia is revealed on his singular goggle’s lens, which is a pentagram. “What do you think?”

  “You’re… You’re…” Death Leopard backed away.

  Cheapshot cackles. “All Hail… Morningstar…”

  …

  …

  Meanwhile, in the Palasyo Lopez Jaena Great Bar, placed in the area of the summit where the Palace Chapel lay bare, beside it was the Tavern where Beatle, heartbroken by something, kept on drinking all to his sorrows.

  “Saint King?” asked one soldier. “Why are you here? You don’t usually drink alcohol. Do you not have gout?”

  “Eh… I gained gout from a history of eating meat.” Beatle sighed. “Ever watched Soul? Good old picture from my day. The day I learned Souls are just shittier ghosts who lack any form of taste or sensation since they never experienced existence. What if a Soul experienced too much existence, mmm?”

  “Is this your first time drinking alcohol then?” asked the bartender.

  Beatle looks blankly at the Japanese banner. “No?”

  The bartender sighs. “My Lord, this is your twelfth bottle. I urge you to please take it easy.”

  “You ever wonder if you had killed your daughter’s parents, turns out?” asked Beatle. “Some rando dick just sent me a recording…” Beatle shows a text message from “I’m Batman”.

  “What? You… killed Princess Billy’s parents?”

  “When I returned to Earth from the Moon… I apparently stepped on ‘em. Blue blood everywhere. FUCK, MAN!!!” He begins to sob. “Billy forgave me and said it was okay… But dude… I hate myself, man! Goddamn!”

  The voice spoke. “Beatle? Buddy? Billy thinks it’s okay. It was an accident. She’s just a little sad. I spoke with her parents. They are very grateful for your actions for her.”

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  “NO! No… No… I am a terrible, terrible person…” Beatle said drunkenly. He turns to the bartender.

  The bartender sighs and pats him on the back.

  Beatle hiccups. “Your name’s John, right? Local Bartending femboy?”

  “Uh… Yeah. They say I have effeminate features, yes,” he blushed. His skin was pale, he had no hair at all, and he had long hair and a slender, effeminate physique.

  “You wanna…? You’re pretty… adorbs… I always had a liking towards you, Johnny… You wanna get outta here?”

  “My Lord!” He blushed, smelling his warm breath and the alcohol from it steaming his skin. “I I I don’t think that would be appropriate at all…” he covered his mouth, looking away.

  “Nah, my dude… Let’s be real homies… Reeeeal homies right here…”

  The bartender kisses Beatle, but Beatle pulls away.

  Beatle yells. “NO!!! I haven’t brushed my teeth…” he hiccuped.

  Later. That day… Billy opened the bathroom door only to scream and cover her eyes. “OH MY GOD!!! DAD!!!”

  Beatle puts on a towel, and the bartender jumps out of the window, also taking a towel to cover himself up.

  Beatle hiccupped. “Billy… I am so, so sorry…”

  “Dad. I don’t wanna hear it. Just… Please… You’re being weird again!”

  “I was lonely, okay!? I heard that they’ve landed in different areas all over Earth! What am I supposed to do with that information?”

  “Dad… I don’t care that you did what you did. Part of me does, but it led me to meet you. It was an accident, and I love you, Dad, so much that I don’t need to worry about any friendly fires or accidents. Please just stop beating yourself up for every mistake you’ve made. You believe in God, in the world, please believe in yourself for once, Dad,” said Billy.

  Beatle smiles. “Come here, baby!”

  “Don’t touch me right now,” Billy backed away.

  Beatle drunkenly falls backward. “Ookie dookie…”

  A loud thud echoed in their palace. So did Billy’s facepalm.

  Beatle sighs as he reaches Session Road, a massive and popular area for indulgence. It is Sunday, so the Sunday Festival is currently held where the road is closed for vehicles and many vendors enjoy selling to customers in tent-like stalls in every corner. Curiously, it seems that the people of all shapes and sizes have gained a healthier place in the world. There are no poor persons walking around in the streets. Now, we see people who have returned to their lifestyles of equity and equality, where both men and women, small or large, light or dark-skinned, could enjoy all known products, as money is properly given to them. In fact, in a sense, Beatle is among the poorest in the world, usually giving his money away for charity and living off the land and the palace services. Beatle continued on and went uphill, reaching SM, a massive mall with great success in ancient times. He reaches it and sees all kinds of cleaner vendors selling in the parking area, mostly of Asian descent. Beatle then reached the Supermarket upon the lowest ground, where he went to buy his favorite sushi set. After such, he gobbled each sushi up while sitting in the Sunrise Terraces of the mall.

  Beatle smiles, staring at the sun slowly rising and giving a glimmer of hope to all living things in the land…

  Beatle smiled, staring at the neon sky, and gave an exhausted but fulfilled sigh. Beatle then gives a confused look in the distance, seeing some sort of reddish bullet charge toward his face. Beatle sensed it, so he caught it, but then, curiously, it sprays Demonic Blood into his face.

  Beatle begins wheezing uncontrollably.

  The people in the mall back away in fear and begin running away in panic.

  Suddenly, a group of men and women landed before Beatle and began beating him with relative ease.

  Beatle tries to punch back, but they catch his fist and flip him over, kicking him down over and over.

  Beatle takes a good glance at them and realizes they’re normal-sized… and so is he…

  Beatle shook in pain. “Hey… Wait. I don’t wanna fight. C’mon-...”

  They fire a shot into Beatle’s shoulder as he fell to the ground, limp.

  They begin kicking him over and over, laughing at his dying state. They mocked him, belittling his fabric of existence.

  “You know, we knew Death Leopard since uh,... high school or college…” laughed one. “We know the real good guy of the story… It definitely ain’t you…“ He laughed.

  Beatle struggles to stand back up. “Where did you get the demon blood?”

  “Kill them, Beatle…“ said the Voice.

  Beatle whispered. “No…”

  The Voice speaks. “If they kill you, your mission will be gone…“

  “Doesn’t matter…” laughed the Loyalist, who, along with the other Loyalists, beat the living heck out of Beatle. “Next, we’ll kill your little daughter.”

  “KILL THEM!!!” yelled the Voice. “TAKE THEIR LIVES!!! THEY… OFFEND ME!!! AND MY GRANDCHILD!!!”

  Beatle began to growl and roar furiously, standing up and tearing the first Loyalist’s arm off.

  Beatle backs away while the Loyalist screamed, blood sputtering out of his stub. “I’ll heal you! Wait! Just take me to a hospital to take away my-!!!”

  Several people evacuated, but others, like a child who can’t find her mother, hid behind a trash can instead.

  Another loyalist, with a pipe, hammers it into Betale’s head as Beatle’s head swings, and his entire body drops and rolls on the ground. He tries to hammer it again, but Beatle kicks him in the throat, stands up, grabs the pipe, and beats another Loyalist down. He kicks the Loyalist over and over and punches one who was about to toss gasoline all over him.

  One kid, hiding behind a trash can, yells, “GET UP, SAINT KING!!!”

  One Loyalist smiles and tries to shoot the kid, so Beatle shields the child with his body and tackles the Loyalist down, beating him over and over.

  Beatle yells, eyes darting to the escalator then the staircase. “RETURN TO YOUR MOTHER!!! AND TAKE THE STAIRS!!!”

  The child nods and runs to the staircase.

  The Loyalist tries to shoot again, but Beatle grabs his head and beats it over and over on the ground.

  Two loyalists, two women, successfully spill gasoline all over him, and the other lights a match, so Beatle screams and runs to the bathroom of the mall, and luckily sees a bucket of water filled with mosquito larvae. He tosses it into his body, and he stops burning.

  The lady loyalists see that he has successfully cleansed the fire, and they pin him down and beat him.

  Beatle wheezes. “I know you three… We were friends in university… Why are you doing th-?”

  The woman at the center, the obese one, hammers a knife into his stomach as Beatle screams and grabs her head before hammering it into the bathroom doors, killing her with one strike.

  The other two woman beat him down, so he takes their knife and slits both their throats.

  Beatle falls to his knees, shaking in pain, before screaming in anguish for having killed his allies.

  Suddenly, the other three men shot at Beatle, entering the bathroom, so he grabs one’s head after tanking a few shots and hammers his face into the mirror, grabbing a broken shard and stabbing him over and over again in the heart.

  Beatle grabs a broken tile and slits the throat of the last pair, who were about to strike as well.

  Beatle fell to his knees. “Fuck…” he sighed. “Hey, God. Why’d you give every known Human longevity?”

  “I don’t know…” spoke the Voice. “But in all honesty, I wanted to keep the population stagnant at this point till we find a solution for the reproduction thing…”

  Another loyalist, the last one, uses his pipe and strangles Beatle with it. The side of his head bleeds. “You killed… all our friends… YOU FUCK!!!”

  Beatle shivers in organic pain as he pushes the pipe away, overpowering him, curiously keeping his hands inside the area where the Loyalist grasps, as the pipe bends and the pipe’s bent angle stabs the last Loyalist in the throat.

  Suddenly, the Loyalist who led them all was stunned in horror.

  Beatle began walking away and reached the stairs only for the loyalist to grab and pull him toward the escalator, which curiously was moving at high speeds.

  “You rewired this shit?” asked Beatle.

  “Tough mind for a DEAD FUCKER!!!” roared the Loyalist.

  Beatle takes out the shard from earlier and stabs the Loyalsit in the chest, flipping him over.

  The Loyalist fell into the escalator and was brutally shredded by the fast-moving steps,

  Beatle is filled with blood all over, before screaming in horror.

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