I'm actually really enjoying this...you better not go all Stephen King and **** up the ending...

Oh man, the ending is just gonna be the best.

THE BEST.

Can't wait for you guys to meet C.A.R.L and the SKY MARSHAL.

I'm not reading any more until you acknowledge my drawing.

THE RETURN

Chapter Five - Process This


"In range?"

"Not yet, sir. Sixty seconds until Premium Cannons can be brought to bear."

C.A.R.L - Combat Application Reconnaissance Link - is the artificial intelligence running this angel of Patriot Way death. It's like I'm inside a computer, only the computer lets me blow things up, and talks to me. It's my buddy. It makes things go boom.

"Thirty seconds, sir. Charging weapons now."

I can see Arrowhead now. The parking lot's full. Crowds are running for the hills. There's a huge goddamn silver and blue robot stomping around, crushing barbecue grills, belching smoke and launching ordnance at anything in red.

A voice, booming and metallic, violates my ear drums as C.A.R.L's targeting senors come online.

***DO NOT RUN. YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR. MATT CASSEL WILL RETURN. THE PATRIOT WAY IS HERE. WE WILL FINISH WHAT WE STARTED. YOU WILL BE HAPPY. DO NOT RUN***

"Is it just me, C.A.R.L, or is there a real issue with statements equating Matt Cassel and happiness?"

"I don't know, sir. I don't know anything about quarterbacks. Five seconds."

I position the targeting reticule directly over the huge missile launcher perched on Patriot Way Shitkicker's right shoulder. Better not miss. Any more damage to the Truman Sports Complex and the Chiefs won't spend a dime on a single free agent next offseason.

"Optimum ballistics range achieved. Recommend immediate engagement of hostile."

I hit the firing switch so hard my knuckles crack.

Red light fills the cockpit as huge bolts of energy streak out on both sides of Warpaint Hellustrated.

***MATT CASSEL WILL RETUR-***

BOOM!

*****'s missile launcher sparks and explodes, sending debris flying through the air.

"C.A.R.L!"

"Executing evasive sequence R2P2 now, sir. Firing thrusters."

The mech twists violently, dodging chunks of *****'s launcher, slamming me against the cockpit wall. Another jerk. The sun shines through the canopy. I'm going to be sick in about five seconds.

"No damage from explosion. Reacquiring target. Charging cannons."

*****'s mech is huge. Definitely bigger than mine. It also has four legs and what looks like a giant rocket launcher on the backside. I don't have a rocket launcher, let alone a giant one.

"C.A.R.L? Scan *****. What's he packing?"

"One moment."

I keep my distance as Shitkicker gets up off the concrete. The right shoulder is a smoking, black mess but the rest is glowing bright yellow. It looks angry.

"Eight heavy plasma cannons, six missile launchers - you neutralized one, - four grenade launchers and one -"

"One giant ass rocket that I don't have. Thanks. Any advice?"

"*****'s assault mech is far advanced past yours, sir. At this distance, without the element of surprise, we won't last long. Recommend engaging in close quarters and attempting pilot extraction. At that range he won't use explosives due to splash damage."

"So you're telling me I can either die up here or on the ground?"

"Probability of Shitkicker neutralization calculated at 8.7 percent, sir. Shall I divert energy to armor and life support?"

"Yeah. And alert the authorities. We can use the distraction."

"Distress call was broadcast on all frequencies three minutes ago, sir."

I wish they'd hurry the **** up. Something bright and smoky flashes past the cockpit. There's that voice again.

***THAT WAS A WARNING SHOT. ARROWHEAD STADIUM BELONGS TO THE PATRIOT WAY. EXIT NOW OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES***

"C.A.R.L, put everything into the thrusters on my mark."

I hit the intercom.

***HI SCOOTER. REMEMBER WHEN MATT GOT A CONCUSSION?***

"Mark."

The mech surges forward, right at Shitkicker's chest. I see *****'s fat face, frozen in shock before the impact sends both mechs crashing to the ground. The ground shakes and everything goes dark as smoke fills the cockpit.

"C.A.R.L?"

"Heavy damage sustained. Switching to backup power reserves. Shitkicker appears to be offline, but I'm reading a building power surge."

The lights come back on and Hellustrated groans to it's feet. One good smash and I can crack Shitkicker's cockpit wide open. The hydraulics scream as one giant steel arm reaches back and-

"Sir! He's firing thrusters!"

Whiff.

I look up and see four enormous mech legs blotting out the sun. The cockpit around me shatters and suddenly I'm hurtling through the air, looking at the clouds rushing by. The landing hurts. My fall is broken by concrete, grass, sand and water. Dust fills the air.

Nice knowing you, Kauffman Stadium.

"C.A.R.L?"

"All main systems are down. Propulsion is offline. Emergency power only. Incoming hostile, sir. I recommend immediate evac."

"No. We're going to play possum. We get one shot at this. Lure him in close and - "

"The Deal Is Done, sir?"

"Put everything into it."

The ground shakes. He's here.

A shadow falls over the Hellustrated. I close my eyes as the heat coming off Shitkicker seeps into my exposed cockpit. He's close. C.A.R.L whispers in my earpiece.

"Arming sequence initiated. Ten seconds to blast."

Smoke in my nostrils. Something jostles the mech. I crack an eyelid. Silver and blue steel fills my vision.

"Five seconds."

***THE PATRIOT WAY IS HERE. WE WILL FINISH WHAT WE STA-***

"FIRE!"

LMAO

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THE RETURN

Chapter Six - *****'s Sticky End


"FIRE!"

Heat surges through the cockpit. Blinding green light floods everything a split second after I watch *****'s eyes get as big as dinner plates. The shrill sound of the laser screeching against Patriot Way Shitkicker's metal fills my ears.

Gotcha.

The sound cuts off and the light disappears. My eyes begin to adjust. C.A.R.L speaks up.

"Direct hit, sir. Energy reserves at two percent. Assessing opponent damage now."

Smoke fills the air, thick and pungent. I can't see shit. But Shitkicker isn't beating the crap out of my mech at the moment so I assume The Deal Is Done - my last-resort, one-off, close-range trump card weapon - has done it's job.

***THE PATRIOT WAY IS INVINCIBLE. YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS UNPROVOKED ATTACK. MATT CASSEL WILL RETURN***

Oh shit. It didn't work.

"C.A.R.L?"

"It appears the weapon simply burned off a lot of outer plating on his armor, sir. I'm reading zero effect otherwise. Shitkicker appears to be running at 97 percent operational efficiency. I'm afraid we have nothing left to stop him with."

God dammit, Nick.

The smoke clears. Shitkicker stands over Warpaint Hellustrated, victorious. *****'s cockpit is open. I can see him sneering, grinning ear to ear, as if he just signed a free agent castoff from a Parcells-run franchise.

Shitkicker raises one arm, aiming a huge laser cannon directly at me.

"Reading huge energy buildup from enemy mech, sir."

A loud whine builds in my ears as *****'s cannon begins to charge. The tip begins to glow an angry green. I close my eyes.

Suddenly, something drowns out the cannon charge. Buzzing noises. Far overhead. Getting louder. Closer.

"Sir, reading multiple airborne objects entering the vicinity at high velocity. They appear to be headed straight for us."

"More hostiles?"

"They do not appear to be armed, sir. Scanners indicate they are cargo planes."

I open my eyes. Shitkicker's cannon is pointed up. ***** stares skyward, puzzled. I look up.

There must be dozens of planes, over a hundred. They're all carrying enormous loads of cargo. The lead plane is a 747 with a huge, distended belly. A banner flies behind it.

FIRE AT *****, BENCH CASSEL - WWW.SAVEOURCHIEFS.COM

The radio crackles.

"THIS IS SKY MARSHAL ERIC GRANELL. POWER DOWN THE MECH AND EXIT THE TRUMAN SPORTS COMPLEX IMMEDIATELY, SCOTT *****. ANY OTHER COURSE OF ACTION WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE COMBAT RESPONSE. WE WILL NOT HESITATE TO USE LETHAL FORCE."

Shitkicker raises it's other cannon-arm skyward.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

***** begins to pepper the incoming fleet with lances of green energy.

"SKY MARSHAL GRANELL TO RED GROUP - ALL WINGS, DEPLOY PAYLOAD!"

Dozens of bomb bay doors open and tiny, rectangular specks fly out by the millions. Miniature bombs? Nanobots? Chemical warfare? It's impossible to tell at this range. The specks turn into thick dark clouds, dotted with flecks of orange, yellow and blue.

*****'s laser blasts incinerate giant holes in the mysterious clouds, but he can't fire fast enough. The clouds envelop his mech, clogging his cannon barrels, gumming up air intakes, swamping his cockpit, jamming his sensors.

A single SNICKERS bar wrapper lands on my instrument cluster. Fresh, sticky and beautiful.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

*****'s scream cuts the air like a hail mary pass headed for a crossbar. A tornado of sticky, gummy, nasty SNICKERS, M&Ms, MARS, KIT-KAT and SKITTLES wrappers swarm his mech, turning it into a giant garbage heap of a robot. Shitkicker's arms flail wildlly. Smoke pours from it's exhaust.

The cockpit is filled with candy wrappers almost to the brim. A bald head pokes out, it's brow furrowed.

"YOUUUUUU MOTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCKERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The mech is off balance, out of control. It stumbles violently. Tips to one side. One of the legs explodes. Shitkicker topples backwards, weighed down and ****ed up by a billion candy wrappers.

*BOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM*

***** is down.

The radio crackles.

"Target has been neutralized. Outstanding red team, outstanding. Get you a case of beer for that one. Hellustrated, do you require further assistance?"

"Everything looks good here, capone. That was one hell of an entrance, you really saved my ass. Thanks."

"Don't mention it, Hellustrated. SOC Fleet, form up on my wing and prepare to return to base. This is Sky Marshal Granell, signing off."

All that cutting-edge technology, taken out by a bunch of candy wrappers. You couldn't write a better ending to this nightmare. I smile as I unstrap and climb out of the cockpit.

The air smells sweet and smoky. Like candy. Like barbecue. Like a Sunday morning where everything is right at Arrowhead. A Sunday morning without Scott ***** or Matt Cassel.

C.A.R.L speaks up.

"Sir, the enemy is down but..."

"But what?"

"I'm reading a massive power buildup at the center of mass. His propulsion systems are offline, but this is something else. One moment, sir. Scanning."

*****'s mech begins to glow with blue energy as steam vents from every crevice. This doesn't look good.

"Sir it...it appears ***** has started an explosive countdown on the warhead within the large rocket fixed to Shitkicker's aft fuselage. I've scanned the rocket and it appears to house a B.E.L.C.H.E.R type warhead at it's core."

"Oh god, no. Not a B.E.L.C.H.ER. missile."

"I'm afraid so, sir. It will destroy everyone and everything in Kansas City if it detonates."

To be concluded...

"Chapter 6 of The Return is the most thrilling yet. It's an action-packed thrill ride that really packs a punch. And the cliffhanger is truly mindblowing. Get on this train NOW before you get left behind!" - Thig Lyfe

Chapter 7 is gonna be SO GREAT.

Really looking forward to writing this.

Gonna be two very awesome characters introduced.

Can you guess who shows up in Chapter 7???!?!!?!?

Tyler Thigpen and Bobby Sippio

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