Chapter 5: Pissin’ At The Dock Of The Bay

Ten days after their glorious victory and ten days of sipping on fine Tennessee whiskey later, they notice the hazy silhouette of the Capital City just up ahead.  Coming into port, there is a small amount of boat traffic that the crafty El Dukè is able to circumvent by cutting off an elderly sailor who was going way under the speed limit.  Pulling up to the dock, the ship comes to a halt and Axel and Levon jump to the floating dock below.

“Hey thanks a lot for the ride again, man. That was some fancy sailing there. We’re bout to go find a place to take a wiz if a want to join, before you have to pick up that special cat food of yours.”  Levon asks the captain.

“No thanks man, I gotta go tie off.”  El Dukè says as he turns around and goes down into the ship’s hull.

“How’s he going to tie the ship off from down there?” Axel asks.

Levon leans in and suddenly taps the inside elbow.  “Dude.”

“Oh… he’s getting his blood pressure checked? Still, seems like an awfully inconvenient place to do that.” Axel says, still not getting it.

“No dude. He’s probably going to down there to do drugs.” Levon says, bluntly.

They shoot-up the floating dock over to the seaside market. The streets are buzzing with sailors, dockworkers, fishermen and a wide variety of other walks of life, all looking as stereotypical as you’d imagine them to. Their eyes are quickly drawn to some velvet ropes, organizing a long line of people. At the start of the line a sign read ‘Unisex Bathroom: Start Here’.

“Unisex bathrooms? Wow! How European.” Levon says, impressed.

“Yea, that sounds great. While I’d love to dump in a stall next to a lady, that line is way too fucking long, I’m gonna piss myself if we wait in that.” Axel says.

“Yea, you’re right. Let’s just go back and take a piss in that big toilet over there.”  Levon says, pointing to the ocean.

They walk back down to the edge of the dock and whip out their larger-than-life dicks. Right before the first drop of urine breached the tip, they’re both grabbed by the shoulder simultaneously. They swiftly tuck the aforementioned dicks back into their trousers. It took Levon a second longer to seal up completely, because he had inconvenient (yet stylish) button fly pants on. Startled, they both enter full panic mode.  Levon whips around (just like his favorite weapon) and shouts, “What’s your deal, dick-man?!”

Axel yells out over Levon, “Lay off the shoulder man, I got a bad sunburn!”

In front of them stands a towering man, done up in full uniform. His bald head glistens in the mid-day sun, and his neck hump is so beefy that it creates a perfect triangle shape between his ears and his shoulders. He wears a wired ear piece, which is connected to a walkie-talkie attached to his belt. While glancing at the talkie, Axel and Levon notice the four Led Zeppelin symbols tattooed onto the man’s inner arm.

“I’m an officer for the Environmental Protection Agency. What do you think you’re doing taking a piss in that ocean?  We get our food out of there!”  Agent says, in a booming, stern voice.

“Everything that lives in that ocean literally does nothing all day long except piss, shit, and bone-out in that water.”  Levon says.

“I don’t care, get your well-toned asses in that bathroom line or I’ll throw you in the brig!” The beefy agent shouts.

“Okay.” Levon says, as he hangs his head.

Walking away, Axel turns back and says ” Sorry if you saw our dicks”.

They mosey on down to the tip-end of the bathroom line, which was marked off by a series of luxurious velvet ropes.

“I don’t understand this line formation, it just seems to be sprauling in every which way without direction. It appears wildly inefficient.” Levon comments.

“Yea, it’s fucking retarded.” Axel answers back.

About five or so heads ahead of Axel and Levon, an unfamiliar voice shouts out. “You know why the lines are laid out like this, right?”

“No!” Levon yells back to the mystery woman ahead.

“It’s so when you look at it from an aerial viewpoint, it looks the Prince symbol! And Prince is cool.” The lady yells out.

“Right on, that’s what I’m talking about. Why don’t we head up the line to those ladies so we can talk some Prince?” Axel says to Levon.

“Way ahead of you.” Levon already begun elbowing his way through several unimportant characters.

Once they reached the pocket of Prince loving ladies, they start to talk shop. They methodically break down Prince’s 1997 hit album ‘Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic’, and discuss it’s poignancy in regards to life as a light-skinned black person, who lives in a dark-skinned black person’s world, who lives in a white man’s world. After this continues for hour and a half straight, they introduce themselves.

After getting barely acquainted with the ladies, the sexual tension begins to arise. Levon leans into Axel and says “Dibs on the Spaniard.”

Axel replies “That’s cool with me, I’ll take that fine looking black lady.”

The third women in the group, who apparently intended on acting as a facilitator yelled out “And I’ll keep score!”

The intense (and very public) sexual intercourse begins. It was beyond memorizing for all spectators, and so emotionally stimulating that it was said to have later inspired Beethoven to write his 9th symphony, AKA his crowned masterpiece.

After all parties were satisfied, the numbers came in and both Axel and Levon received perfect scores. Also finishing just in time to get their turn in the bathrooms, so they can clean out their tubes. As luck would have it the bathrooms ended up being a delight! They even ran into Owen Wilson in there, and scored two over sized ‘You, Me, and Dupree’ shirts, signed by the celebrity himself.

Walking out, Levon turns towards Axel and motions towards his freshly signed shirt and says “I can’t believe Owen Wilson was in there man, he’s like in my top five. I’m never taking this shirt off!”

“Yea, I loved him in the new ‘Thor’ movie.” Axel responds.

They turn to a sign that reads ‘To Downtown District’ that has an arrow pointing down a long narrow trade route. Levon quickly pops-off his ‘Dupree’ shirt, and carefully packs it into his ruck-sack, to ensure it doesn’t get dirty or damaged. Axel follows suit, but leaves his on the ground by a curb.

Down the road they went.

Shorty down the beaten path, Levon, notably irritated, blurts out “Man, ‘member when we had raptors? I miss that. All this foot walkin’ is starting to make my silky-smooth, callus-free feet start to blister.”

“Tell me about it… I still got the key fob for that thing’s mech-helmet and everything.” Axel says, pulling if off his 250-pound-rated-mountain-grade-carabiner. “Wonder if this thing still works?” He says as he clicks the ‘panic’ button.


They suddenly turn towards each other and excitedly shout “Did you hear that?!”

Then they hear the sound of a frantic, panicking raptor off in the distance and instinctively sprint in that direction. After several minutes of running at Olympic speed, they emerge from the wood-line and notice a large caravan of traveling circus folk (carnies; dirty ones) with heavy Cultivist guard accompanying them.

They scan the caravan, and quickly identify their two beautifully groomed show-raptors, all caged up.

“How the hell did they get our raptors?” Axel asks.

“Oh shit, they must have scooped them up somewhere after we fell into that trench-maze. What are we gonna do?” Levon asks.

“We don’t want to bring and unnecessary problems into the fold, we’ll just go talk to them. After all, we have the show-papers as proof of ownership.” Axel confidently responeds.

“That’s a really cool idea. That man in the big hat there looks like the leader, lets talk to him first and see if we can hash out a deal.” Levon says.

They jet over to the man in the big hat. “Hey, are you the head honcho here? We notice you got them fancy caged raptors over there, and well you see the thing is… those are our dinos. See here, we have the papers to prove it.” Axel says, as he presents the certified documents.

“Yea, I’m in charge here but… I swear I recognize you boys.” The caravan’s head honcho says.

“I don’t think so, I’d remember a hat as big as that.” Levon purposely rhymed at the man. His hat did appear to be even larger up-close.

“No, yeahhhh… you’re them fellers that took down those two Cultivist triremes and killed all them sea-dactyls! You know, those things are extinct now!”

Little did our heroes know, a video of their sea-scuffle was recorded on a brand new iPhone XXX, and was uploaded. It became a viral YouTube sensation overnight, boasting over a million views.

“You saw that?” Axel asks, awkwardly.

“GUARDS!” The man in the big hat yells out.

“Oh boy.” Levon says, nervously.

Within seconds, a brigade of well armed Cultivist guards circle Axel and Levon, with obvious intent to kill.

“Well, we didn’t want it to come to this.” Levon says to Axel.

“It’s a damn shame.” Axel says, drawing his trusty tomahawk and rotating it over his head like a propeller.  The downward thrust off the weapon begins to lift the muscular Axel high into the air.  This is a classic Axel move known as the “helicopter typhoon tomahawk death-spin”, or better known as the HTTDS.

Levon follows Axel’s lead and pulls out his radical dagger. He throws it straight up into the air, and in the blink of an eye uses his whip to catch the dagger at the peak of its height, right by the handle. With astonishing speed and power, he whips downward in a circular motion, creating a loud cracking noise as it breaks the sound barrier. The dagger tipped whip cuts clean across the flabby tummies of the Cultivist attackers, slicing them wide open. Their entrails pour out like a waterfall. A waterfall of bloody poop tubes.

For the remaining guard, Axel helicopters his way down from the sky, surgically removing the guards head’s from their bodies… in an almost poetic way.

“You fools! Those guards were to accompany us to the Capital City, where we were to perform for all the elites at tonight’s ballroom Gala!” The hat-man says with anger. “It was ‘I Remember the 90s Night’ too!” he adds.

“Guess we’ll have to fill in.” Levon says. He smoothly angles up his crossbow from his holster and shoots a bolt straight into the man’s chest.

As the man is blown back and riving in pain, the large hat flies from his head and seems to hang in mid-air for several seconds. It lands perfectly atop Axel’s head.

Levon calmly putting a Turkish Gold in his mouth says, “That’s a good look for you.”

Axel and Levon claim their prize by unlocking their show-raptors. The dinos are beyond happy to reconnect with their beloved owners, as they lick Axel and Levon’s faces and wag their tales in delight. Axel leads the raptors to the dead body of the (former) hat wearing man and says, “Lunch time boys.” The vicious side of the predatory lizards take over as they devour the cadaver.

Axel and Levon look onto the gruesome scene, and Levon finally lights this Turkish Gold in triumph. “Nothing like a post-murder smoke.” Levon says, exhaling his first drag.

Once all but the poopy asshole of the (formally) big-hatted man was devoured, they hop back up onto their raptors to continue onward to the Capital City’s downtown district.

It’s good to be back on top… of raptors.” Axels says.

It wasn’t long before the scenic route started to become more urban as they neared the inner walls of the city. The sudden change is not that surprising, however. The minimum walking speed of an adult raptor is roughly 15 mph, and we need not remind you that these were no ordinary raptors. They were show raptors.

The air begins to fill with the enticing aroma of the local fare, as they start to pass by numerous food carts run by the dirtiest of people.

I don’t know about you man, but I’m famished. We haven’t eaten since that Chowder Pot, and you’ve been drinking a whole lot of whiskey. You should grab a bite to balance out.” Axel says to Levon.

I heard that, I would have totally vomited by now if I had anything to spit-up.” Levon replies.

One cart in particular catches their eye. It’s run by a short, mystical little man that looked like he knew his shit; and his mustache was the thinnest they have ever seen.. They quickly check the menu. It has more options then they needed, or that they believed this man was able to cook.

Hey man, you make every single thing on this menu? I don’t understand how you could fit all those ingredients in that truck.” Levon says to the cart owner.

The man quickly and quietly responds, “Yea.”

Axel takes his time deciding. He usually just gets a cheese steak, but he noticed the Jamaican beef patty (not to long ago he had a quality patty from a Mexican cart in Springfield, Mass), but just to play it safe he sticks to the steak and cheese. After taking Axel’s order the man with the Mario name-tag looks to Levon.

Levon takes a final run down of the menu and says, “I’m usually a tuner-fish guy, but when I’m on the streets I always stick with the gyro. Extra greasy please!”

While they watch the master craftsman make their food, the man kept trying to sneak jalapenos into the sandwiches. Axel wasn’t having it, but Levon on the other hand excepted the pile of spicy peppers on his gyro. Both sandwiches now seemed to be struggling to contain all the dank-ass ingredients that were piled into them.

During the whole process of making their food, he was making sexual hand gestures while pointing at over-weight women in-line behind them. This made Axel and Levon pretty darn uncomfortable.

They get their food, thank the incomprehensible man, and each throw a single dollar in his tip basket.

A few feet away from the cart, they each take a chomp of their purchased products. They immediately freeze in aw of the sheer quality of the edible treats they were ingesting.

Goddamn, that little man makes a mean gyro… Shazam.” Levon proclaims.

Stop rhyming.” Axel responds, he is tired of the bit.

They continue on down the street, gobbling up their tasty treats. After moseying around a bit, a large lit-up billboard comes to their attention. It was an advertisement for the local museum, which was now featuring an exhibit on the Civil War and the Blood Sons of Christ’s rise to power.

Oh man, we gotta check that museum out.” Axel says to Levon.

Fuck yea, I love museums. Plus maybe we could scope out the competition while we’re there.” Levon says, hoping to learn more about their hated foes.

They ride up to the museum building in style, on raptor-back. The amount of raptor-envy in the faces of the locals was palpable, so they decide to tie them off in a secluded place, settling on an alley behind the old building. There, a dumpster would serve as a fine dino-anchor until they were done in the museum. They head back around to the front of the building. The front door was thousands of steps away, and Axel and Levon begin the ascent.

Mid-way up they become exhausted, Levon  turns to Axel and exclaims “Why the fuck are there so many stairs?”

Who the fuck knows, but this altitude is starting to get to me. Plus I don’t know if you noticed but there was a dead senior citizen about a hundred steps back with a sign around his neck that said ‘nothing is good in this world’, pretty morbid shit.” Axel vents as he and Levon take a quick rest.