Sunday, 5 August 2012

Mental Crimes, Mental Times - Part 1

In the year 3018, Earth has drastically changed. Humans had their time and couldn't escape their inevitable armageddon in 2022. A few species of wild animals and insects, somehow, managed to survive whilst the so-called dominant species perished in its entirety. The survivors continued to live and evolve for the next near-century with some surprising results.

In this present day - in 3018 - new civilisations can be seen flourishing in the form of completely modernised cities with blinding lights, deafening sounds and gargantuan buildings that would make real-life Dubai shit itself. Little is left of what was 96 years ago and in its place we find a brand new kingdom which belongs entirely to the evolution of animals. There are Cheetahs walking on hind legs wearing Gazelle-skin tuxedos and carrying briefcases down the busy streets. Sheep are piloting hovercraft style taxis taking tracksuited Iguanas to the gym. A mind-fuck for anyone who remembers Earth as controlled by human beings.

Sadly, not every town is blossoming quite so well.  Here, in the town of Phuk, it is a wasted sight - kind of like a futuristic ghost town or a giant back alley from the world in which it lies. Things are not so wonderful here. Wild, yes. Wonderful, fuck no. The streets are running with so much liquid polution that the fumes would melt your taste buds off of your tongue in the space of 3 minutes. It's no surprise that the welcome video sign when entering features the word 'Phuked!' splatting onto the 30ft screen in a continuous loop. It is here, however, that our story begins.

Near the centre of town, there stands an abandoned factory building which was previously used as headquarters for a drugs empire until it was infiltrated and cleared by the cold-blooded crime fighting squad, A.R.S.E (Armed Reptilian Service Enterprise). The windows and doors have since been sealed off with ultra-steel (a recently discovered impenetrable material) 5 inches thick. Something is standing in one of the doorways, or 'someone' I should say. Meet Junkie Snail - a highly evolved upright snail and former detective agent for A.R.S.E who was fired for failing to control his drug addictions. No, snails are not reptiles, but A.R.S.E wanted to avoid discrimination without changing the name of their organisation as they felt it had a nice ring to it (pun). Junkie Snail, we'll call him J.S in future, stands awkwardly leaning against the steel doors with his shoulder. He stares at the rippling sewage as the rainfall enters its flow with a joint hanging from his mouth which has almost completely burnt out. He wears a kakhi coloured overcoat with a dark green scarf and a light brown fedora hat with a dark brown stripe around the circumference.

"Hey, J.S!" Yells a male's voice from close by.

He throws his joint into the polution and lifts his head in search of the voice's source.

"A.T, good to see ya." He replies.

From the shadows emerges some kind of mutant turtle with a bottle of beer in hand - same likeness as the 'teenage ninja' kind only without the bandanas, weapons and martial arts capabilities. This is Alkie Turtle, hence 'A.T' and the beer. He was J.S's partner at A.R.S.E before J.S was sacked and is still under employment with them, albeit in a limited capacity due to ongoing alcohol problems. He always dresses in a grey suit with a white shirt and green tie in order to cover up his 'demons', ie. so folk don't recognise he is an alcoholic. Although, the fact that he's almost constantly pissed and never changes his grubby suit gives the game away ever so slightly.

"J.S, something's gone wrong with a case I was assigned to. I need your help." A.T utters not without a burp.

"C'mon, A.T, you know I can't help you. I can't fucking help myself. Besides, I was fired, wasn't I?" J.S responds rhetorically.

"And I'm in a better position?" A.T enquires. "My liver talks to me in my sleep, man! They don't have to know a thing."

"At least your liver exists, for now, but a black bear with a magic penis and the arms of the Hulk does not. Forget it."

"I thought you loved this job." Says A.T "You made it a fucking art."

"Yeah, I did. Except it's not my job anymore, not since I blamed and captured the boss' daughter in-law for the Chite bombings claiming that cenataur prints led me to her." J.S explains.

"That doesn't mean you have to stop. You could continue for the good of your own health - not literally, of course, 'cause both of our healths are fucked. You know I'm making sense, J.S."

"For fuck's sake, alright!" exclaims J.S reluctantly.

To be continued...

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