Part 5 (2/2)
”No, I am not being sarcastic!” Roger yelled back. ”Don't you know when somebody's trying to be friendly?”
Roger felt a hand on either shoulder. He looked back, and saw Frankie on one side, Brian on the other.
”I don't know how to put this to you, but-” Frankie began.”n.o.body's ever friendly with the Motorcycle Mob-” Brian continued.
Frankie added: ”It just isn't done-”
Brian explained: ”It's one of the Rules of the Beach-”
'' Yeah!'' Frankie exclaimed.”Right up there with 'Shoes and s.h.i.+rts must be worn at all times when in this-'''
”Well, I'm changing the rules here and now!” Roger admitted it; he was sick and tired of the rigamarole he encountered every time he landed on a new movie world. That was one of the hidden dangers of the Cineverse-one wrong move, and you could be caught up in some local plot for hours, even days. He had spent far too long in this place already. He had certainly blown any chance of rescuing anybody. Delores might be dead right now, or in the hands of that archfiend, Doctor Dread. And what was Roger doing? Having a conversation with a bunch of beach-blanket bozos!
Or at least he was until he had made that declaration. Now, there was not a sound around him except for the surf breaking on the sand. Everyone-surfers, beach bunnies, the Motorcycle Mob, Bix Bale and the Belltones-they were all staring at him, and, of the entire incredibly tanned group, only Dee Dee looked the least bit friendly.
”Oops,” Roger said aloud. Perhaps, by speaking his mind, he had broken an even bigger rule.
”Tee hee hee,” Dee Dee giggled sympathetically.
The Mad Mumbler's voice broke the silence: ”Bssfzzll!”
Sneer's smile once again stretched across his lips. ”Yeah, big boss man. Maybe we were too easy on him.'' He stroked the handle of his switchblade.
Roger could see it happening all over again. This corner of the Cineverse wanted to force him back into a role. He felt the anger growing inside him once again.
”Oh, no!” he declared. ”I'm not going through this again!”
The Mumbler made a strangling motion with his hands. ”Thrssnnddll!”
”Yeah, boss, threats don't worry him, do they?” Sneer twirled his knife toward the surrounding surfers. ”Maybe we should cut up his friends, too.”
All the surfers took a step away. All except one.
Dee Dee still giggled at Roger's side.
Roger realized he'd done it now. It was time to make his stand. But he had to use his anger in the right sort of way- a way that would work for him in the Cineverse. If he was going to be forced into a role, it would be a role of his own choosing. He wished he had a toothpick to chew on, or a pack of Luckies he could roll up inside the sleeve of his T-s.h.i.+rt-that is, if he had a T-s.h.i.+rt. But he didn't have time to find props; he'd have to do it on style alone. He planted both feet firmly in the sand and stared at the members of the Motorcycle Mob.
”Nah, you can't change my mind with threats. I'm not just gonna change the rules-”
He paused dramatically. ”I'm gonna make up my own-”
Everyone around him gasped as a group. It clearly was the sort of thing that Was Not Done on a beach party planet. But Roger knew there was no backing down, especially where there was a motorcycle gang around. Especially a motorcycle gang that had now all drawn their switchblades.
Maybe, Roger considered, he had gone too far.
The other motorcycle members smiled to match Sneer.
It wouldn't do him any good to be this angry, if he was also dead.
Many of their smiles were missing many of their teeth.
But he had gotten out of situations worse than this in the Cine verse.
The gang members picked at their teeth with their knives.
Once again, Roger told himself to think like a movie.
My, they certainly were nice, long, sharp knives.
He swallowed, then finished his sentence.
”-even if it takes riding the Cowabunga-munga to do it!”
And everyone took another step away. Their collective gasp this time held a hint of awe. The knife-wielders paused in their teeth picking, their blades ready to cut through the tension-filled air at any second.
They all knew Roger was proposing a surfing duel.
”That's pretty big talk-” Frankie ventured.
”We've never even seen you surf-” Brian mentioned.
”Yeah, man! Where's your board-” Frankie added.
”And, like, the big wave isn't even coming until tomorrow!” Brian concluded.
”Sounds like some kind of ho-daddy excuse to me!” Sneer brandished his blade. ”I say we cut him anyway!”
”Gllffgrrggll!” the Mumbler agreed.The other gang members all started talking at once.
”Yeah, blood!”
They laughed nastily.
”The girl, too!”
They chuckled disagreeably.
”-carve some initials-”
They guffawed coa.r.s.ely.
”-real deep tattoos!”
They hooted malevolently.
<script>