Cuithbeart and Geoffery went down the steps of the once-jumping house. When they got to the first floor kitchen (well-kept at that), they dropped the structure's exit ramp with a lever (which was the sink cabinet). The metal slope clashed against the cement, across giant and slightly-rusted springs. And the duo-who-were-not-a-duo, ventured out into the night.
The five images of Ratty and four of Jeffrey (one was trying to sleep) flickered more often, and acted more individually than previously.
"The store.. owes.. me money.. new sneakers.. my money.. to me.." The outer Jeffrey's said. The center Jeffrey kept dozing off while trying to stand, like a looping hologram.
"Not sneakers, shoe-boots!" The Swede replied, kicking up his shiny shoe-boot in the air.
"Ha!" Cuithbeart found the conversation to his liking.
"There's more there.." The second Ratty to the right tried to say, pointing at the pile of hats now half-burned with a greenish-white flame.
The Ratty on the far left retorted to her clones, "I'll kill you all!"
"Get a.. therapist," The center Jeffrey mumbled to the Ratty, before sitting down abruptly for a deeper sleep.
The excited Swede accented the city's remote mountain range with his excitement, "You've told me many things about your shoe-boots, but now I will tell you about my shoe-boots."
"Shoe-booty?" Repairgoddog verbally tripped, a vehicular two-story house behind him.
Cuithbeart kicked Geoffery in the ass. Repairgoddog gave him eyes full of daggers for it.
"NooOOOoo." The swede replied; and with that, he jumped onto a large, oncoming, paper airplane and surfed off into the air.
"Well.." Cuithbeart said as him and Geoffery stood and stared awkwardly. After the paper plane became a tiny sight the two men went on their separate ways; Geoffery to repair televisions, while Cuithbeart went to save his brigade.
Repairgoddog entered All-Mart through a hole in the brick. He noticed a portrait containing a quote on the side of the store's busted brick. The portrait was made up of small lights in primary colors, save the quote itself that was between blue and green, "'The classless are not assless.' - Spear Shakes".
Cuithbeart decided to enter All-Mart a different way, and made his way back inside the vehicular two-story house..
Repairgoddog found a man who was eating ceiling casserole from the floor while in a musical note costume like that of two notes connected together. His face was painted red like the attire, while the person in the connected music note was not moving, eyes shut, and feet dragging. With cheesey casserole on his cheeky face, his eyes seemed to drift off into space. "If you aren't having fun, you'll never survive."
A plaque ahead on the floor narrated itself, "'Most young people get bored and then complain about it. I take my shirt off and start screaming at the top of my lungs about Brorange little men with Gred hair, I throw my cacti-cats through the window, peacers come around on scooters and find me DRiZUNK, an empty bottle of mouth wash near my feet while I hold a stick of deodorant at a swamp monster that frilly-nilly boop-bots are confiding in me is a fire-breathing Desk Lamp.' - George Washington II"
As the plaque narrated itself a particularly fierce caravan landed on it and spoke in the loud, gaseous rasp of their kind.. "A general?"
Repairgoddog motioned in correction, "General television repair."
"My name is Poposhi. In a strange alternate universe.. I forgot I was alive. But I have been renewed as a pizza thief." Black gas bellowed from the mouths of the caravan-- but he had innocence and bits of vegetables in his eyes.
"Very well, I have to get to the tele--"
"All meats and fruits but pepperoni. I'm allergic to red dots you see."
"That's all fine and well." Repairgoddog stated, with more hand gesturing.
"Oh don't get me wrong.." The giant dog had height and size over dog-mask, "There was a time when I thought about it. That and extra cheese, I mean, it sounds like a good idea. But only if--"
"I DO NOT HAVE TIME.. for this." Geoffery realized Poposhi's menacing size mid-sentence.
Poposhi dropped his nightmare-head over half a foot in embarrassment; with a murmur, "..I had immunity to constipation.."
The ceiling ahead waned with a massive crash and the dents of giant springs.
Even Poposhi winced at the sound of the impact, "The hybrids made a bigger weapon?"
"No Poposhi. That's just an unarmed drunk piloting a jumping house." Repairgoddog replied.
A small man who looked to be about two hundred if not older, was manning a sample table of miniature cobs of corn. He had on an All-Mart employee uniform. He was forty feet from Poposhi, talking to a small creature that looked like a mix between a hermit crab and a squirrel. The animal was cyan and violet save a more colorful shell.
"Johnny Denven works in a supply store with his own fort built out of plywood, and old man Juniper draws pictures on the walls." The ancient employee explained.
The 'crabrel' cocked its head to the side, fixed eyestalks in confusion.
The ancient man had a cob in his hand and banged it against the table, "You don't know enough to pound samples."
The worn, grey van that had followed the bat-dogs into battle, crawled through a large stretch of space between aisles. Bullet holes riddled the vehicle, and what was probably a ninja-with-a-fruitcake-on-her-head opened the sliding door.
"We will take you to the televisions, but you might not get out in time." Poposhi explained before flinching as gunfire rang out, the ninja woman nodding while she held the door to the van open.
* * *
Malluso happened to be sitting in the furniture section of the store on a couch. He was reading The Nightly Paper when he noticed the massive denting of the ceiling. There were still customers, squatters, and stranger strangers in the process of evacuating the store around the marble-headed man; while some were faster paced, others took their time shopping, lounging, and attacking each other.
"Equations!" A tall, frail woman with dirty, blond-ginger pony-tails tripped over the vacant side of the couch dropping a boxed blender. "Screaming about equations!"
The woman got up and went running towards the exit with her dicer, while Monsieur moaned with annoyance and put his paper down. Malluso got up and pushed the couch, about half the furniture's length, further from the dented ceiling. Then he sat on the other side of the couch and resumed reading.
"If I scare myself, am I doing a good job?" One of the mechanical suns asked another in Japanese, after the collision.
A red Jack-O-Lantern on top of an aisle broke itself in a raspy reply, "It depends on the spices."
Nearby on a small, oak table was the foundation of a bust, but the head was missing; dotless, the black and gold label read, "Monsieur Malluso of the Presiding Manor."
"Faxiom!" A tall, frail woman with dirty, ginger-blond pony-tails ran past the couch towards the exit in the gap where the sofa had once been. She only had a brown cardboard box, "Faxiom an axiom for our transfinite function!"
There was another crash which caused the ceiling to collapse and give way to the Victorian house on springs. Malluso jumped off the couch at the massive springy collision. He threw his newspaper in the air which, in contrast to his cry of sheer terror, made a yawning sound.
Then, upon standing with tremendous, instinctual gusto, Monsieur picked up the couch and threw it at the house: this did little. A jumbo-sized gummy worm under the couch caused the marble-headed man to jump back in trepidation again. And the candy reptile squirmed away, back into the wild commerce, dentures and all.
The exit ramp of the springy house clanged as it hit the floor; Cuithbeart Cobalt walked out with his hair a bit more messy, and some lights on his suit no longer flashing.
Cuithbeart stood apprehensively on the ramp, leaning on its rails; and upon seeing the marble-headed man, "I didn't land on anyone who was dressed in blue, did I?"