Given The Task That Nobody Could Ask

The next stop on the Rollercoaster from Hell that Nobody's Heroes are on is Raleigh, North Cackalack. A place Crash knows all too well from his days on the independent circuit as a babe to the the ring. The blood, training, and part time work as a bus boy at Pappy’s Ole Fashion BBQ make it a more meaningful visit for Crash but not enough to change his mind about going back to work against another treasonous, treacherous for.

The Red Rose.

It happens that, right now, jubilation and glee is the theme inside the Heroes’ suite. After losing their beacon of hope, Sebastian Gold, and the constant battle they find themselves in; tonight is a chance to unwind and take the time to remind one another that, no matter how hard Tom Battaglia tries to fight it, this ragtag group of brutes, bros and a mute are quickly becoming family. So tonight is the Heroes’ Broligatory Costume Party Pizzazzaganza.

This is where we find ourselves as a loud, heavy knock draws the attention of the Heroes Suite to the door. It opens without help because Crash knows to prop it open with a hot dog so everyone who is VIP can in ASAP, bro.

“Holy shit,” Crash is so happy when he sees who comes in. “Tommy! Tam!”

Our veteran Hero steps in, full send, head to toe in a hot dog costume, and points at Crash in full gimmick.

“We're aaall tryin’ to find the guy who did this, and give ‘im a spankin’!”

He laughs at the bit himself as Tam tugs on his shoulder. Wearing a half blue, half pink cardigan and brunette wig with bangs, she sees what Tom has yet to and feels somewhat uncomfortable. Tom looks the Patti Harrison to his Hot Dog Guy but notices her eyes are on the rest of the room

“Nice fit, bro!” Crash gets a reactionary high five from Tom. “It’s good to know I'm not the only one who brings it on the road.”

Crash is also dressed head toe as a hot dog. He's actually eating one as they speak. That's when Tom gives the room a rundown and sees that not is he, but Crash, Jacque, Broque, and even Greg Davis are all dressed as hot dogs.

From head to toe.

“So you're all… Hot Dog Guy?” Tom questions his originality.

“Thank you,” Greg barks, sipping his Mai Tai before raising it to the sky. “Finally somebody who knows what I'm talking about.”

Crash waves Greg off, gripping his next doggie snack. He shakes his head. That motion draws some ire from below towards the LaRoque boys before gesturing to the newcomers towards the buffet.

“Help yourselves to the spread,” Crash waves his hand like a wand at the endless options of hot dogs available to his homies. “Chili dogs, corn dogs, mummy dogs, hot dogs with ketchup, ones with mustard, and some onions if you're feeling spooky!”

Tam hugs Tom tighter. He notices but waits for the younger Hero to find another train of thought.

“THAT REMINDS ME…” Crash turns back towards Jacque and Broque with a rising eyebrow. “You two haven't touched anything.”

That train leaves the station, giving TAL a chance to give his better half the attention she deserves.

“The amount of cholesterol in this place is enough to sink a boat,” they both chuckle, turning their eyes to the room.

As these soulmates share their moment, Banana Greg engages them with a grin.

“Great choices, gang,” he makes eye contact with Tam before taking another swing. “I was yelling at Freddy Kruger!”

The trio share a laugh. It's nice to have these nice moments about nice, lighthearted, fun, nice things. They all look around again as awkward silence passes.

“Oh shit…” Tom wraps his arm around Tam.

This is the moment he sees the other person in the room not wearing Hot Dog Guy regalia. Her head pokes out from behind the chair she crouches behind, face painted in white and black, wearing all leather, and a raggy black wig.

“Oh, yeah…” Greg takes another sip, noticing the aversion of their eyes. “She's the Crow or somethin’ like that. I never got into anime so, I don’t know.”

Violent Purple is the spitting image of Brandon Lee from the 1994 classic. Greg chuckles, wondering if she can get any more terrifying, before deciding she can't and sucks down the rest of his drink.

“Think that knuckle head left the pay per view unlocked,” he tries for whatever's left in the glass. “I think… unfortunately… we found somethin' she likes.”

“No, Jacque,” Broque LaRoque’s booming tone steals the conversation. “I love ze chili dogs but zose ‘ave been on zat table for six heures!”

Jacque and Crash chomp down, simultaneously shaking their heads. It's a very condescending thing to say and they won't stand for it. Jacque goes for the legs as Crash takes the top. VP, sure this is her chance for violence, scrambles in. Crash hands her a chili dog and she force-feeds it to him with massive resistance.

“Jesus, Tom,” Tam’s words draw a sigh from both her husband and Greg.

The Ego turns away, “Animals. I don't get what they think is fun or cooAHHHHHH"

TAL and Tam jump as Greg crumples to the ground. He grabs at his leg just as Violent Purple Crow scales his back and grips his throat. Tam stays behind Tom.

“What the fuck!?” Greg looks up, mouth open with fear, giving VP the chance to stuff a mummy dog into his mouth.

“Oh don't mind her, bro,” Crash laughs at how feral and cute she is. “She's just hopped up on mummy dogs.”

TAL notices that just after that statement, Crash jerks his head and shoulders. He also backs Tam into the wall, unsure of what's coming.

“You good, bud?” he asks as Crash grabs his chest. “Gotta let some of those dogs run?”

Hot Dog Crash drops to the ground. Tom tries to check on him but Hot Dog Jacque is suddenly charging at him, arms out, and roaring. VP joins the hunt. Tom turns to Tam and kisses her, emphatically, before swinging the door open and pressing her outside. Hot Dog Crash comes to life with Hot Dog Greg Davis as they descend on Hot Dog Tom. He holds out for the last moment of clarity

“Run.”

HELPMESWEETJOSHALLEN

The Northern Light jumps from his slumber with a mild to medium sweat on him. He notices the clock, just after 3AM, and looks out over the city of Raleigh. Realizing he just had a bonafide nightmare, he exits his bed. Admiring the city lights, under which ReVival 78 is about to go down, he recalls why he's here with a strong pull off the bottle of Jackie D he keeps bedside.

His next move comes with a flick and pull on a joint. His head isn't exactly in one place anymore and anything to block out the noise helps with these night terrors. It's a decent strategy so he exits to the living room to indulge his thoughts.

“Thought you would at least put some pants on,” the voice from the patio calls.

“Greg?” Crash covers his exposed bits. “What’re you doin’-”

“Up?” The Ego says it so Crash knows he's not the only one fighting demons. “We’re all human. You and me… more same than different.”

Crash slides the table cloth over his balls and stuff. Greg takes a pull off his drink before puffing a cigar. Crash hits his joint.

“Let me guess,” Crash says with effort. “You had a zombie hot dog nightmare too?”

“What?” the mentor gives the mentee a look of disdain. “No. I can't sleep because you're in the thick of it and I don't know if I can help you.”

The words cut off any high Crash is working on. They also register in a deeper, lesser known part of his brain that he's been exploring.

“Old man…” he says the words knowing they press a button in the elder. “You've helped me in more ways than you know. You've-”

“I get all the side projects, kid,” Greg snaps. “But I - physically - I can't help you. You've got the chance to do great things but… the only one who can help you with that is you.”

There's a solid half minute of silence. They're both just vibing when people aren't normally awake and mostly naked. Crash stands, dropping the cloth, and waves his arms at North Carolina in general.

“So I gotta go beat Rose, right?” He shadow boxes, bouncing around in all the ways. “Tune her up, win the next one, get a belt? That's how you see it, old man?”

Greg doesn't say anything. He takes a puff as Jackson is clearly ready to continue.

“Fuck. That. Shit.”

His words are strong, loud, and sharp. What gives Greg cause to notice is that these words also have depth and decisiveness in them. Crash hits his joint.

“I haven't seen the news lately but, last I checked, the main thing that matters is between the ropes,” our young Hero says, grinding his teeth. “And I'm not gonna miss the chance to be me. Go after the Red Army. Chow down Lasagna Boys. Dissolve the Glue’s grip. So, right now, I'm gonna go after Rose. Not to win…”

Crash takes a breath and turns full frontal at Greg. The Ego chuckles but does his best to remain seriously engaged.

“But to beat her ass and have her tell the tale of the time she got into a real fight with someone who isn't about to back down or give up. Win, lose, or draw… I'm gonna make sure she remembers that this is a war.”

That resonates with Greg. He nods, doing his best not to throw any cliche remarks out, but thinks of one that might give Jason Jackson a new strategy.

“And as they say,” oh great, now Greg’s gonna rhyme. “Wars aren't won in a day.”

This seems to be the pattern.

Send the Heroes to slow the Nightmare down.

Shitty part is that that's the best we can do.

Slow it down.

Red Army.

Bandits.

Whoresmen.

Glue.

What do you call a bunch of bad apples in the same place?

I call it trash.

So, Rose, as you find yourself amongst the baddest batch, believe me when I tell you I want to make this as slow and painful as I can.

For everything.

I'm gonna spend my time makin’ sure there isn't anything left to question.

This is another chance to send a message.

A message I need to send.

Right here. Right now.

So here it goes, Rose:

This fuckin’ Dog is Hot