Hunky Indeed

The three Evanses glared at the three competitors.
The three competitors glared at the three Evanses.
And somewhere, a little girl waits. (You wonder why she doesn't get off her lazy butt and go find some food, but anyway.)

Taylor made the first move, as a good man should. "Where's Ernie?"
"He's up in his control room somewhere, I guess." The chef-Evans said.
"Yeah! And he's gona come down once we've killed you fools!" The bush-Evans added.
"Prepare to die!" The third Evans added - for some reason, he was wearing a school uniform. Guess nobody told him it was mufti day today. Yeah, he's that kid.
At this, the chanting woodland creatures' chant was reduced to a tense hush.

But then, as often happens in these sorts of gatherings, a debate broke out.
"How exactly does one prepare to die? It's not exactly something you need any particular resources for!"
"Well I guess that depends on whether you believe in any sort of afterlife or not."
"Well, yeah, but even then, what does that mean? A quick prayer just to secure your spot in line?"
"Now there's no need to be cynical about things."
"I'm an antiauthorist rat! I was born cynical!"
"Well I'm a Presbyterian cat, and I eat rats like you for breakfast! Come here!"
All of a sudden most of the woodland creatures forgot their high intellectual positions and descended into a dog-eat-dog, or more technically a cat-eat-rat, brawl.
And, unsurprisingly, violence begat violence. Nobody remembers who through the first punch or pulled the first clump of hair, but moments later the three Evanses were engaged in fierce hand-to-hand and teeth-to-calf muscle combat with the final three competitors.

Dust rose in the small cave as the brawl continued, and Trixie soon realised she could hardly see the person she was kicking! There - someone's head came a bit too close and her fist connected with it. And again - another shape loomed, and she dispatched this with a perfectly timed high kick.
Trixie scratched and bit and kicked and grabbed her way through the dusty room, looking desperately for any source of air or light, but WHAM! something hard connected with the back of her head, and she fell to the ground and blacked out.


Some time later Trixie awoke. The dust had descended, and there was a solitary figure standing in the middle of the cave - Ernie! He was holding the sniper rifle tightly, and looking around the cave.
"Trixie..." he called out in his reedy yet still quite evil voice. "Paaaam. Come on out, I've got prizes for you both."
A host of thoughts flew threw Trixie's mind. ('twas a flying host, you see.) What about Taylor? Where were the Evanses? What of her newfound woodland chums? Could nuts on an ice cream ever be considered tasty?
Sadly the same host had not taken the trouble to visit Pam's brain. "Here I am Ernie!" She said enthusiastically, leaping up from another part of the cave. Scratches ran across both cheeks, her right forearm appeared to be dislocated, and her legs were caked in mud, but somehow Pam still managed to look radiantly beautiful. I hate people like you, Trixie thought.
Pam ran across to Ernie. "What are the prizes?" She said excitedly.
Ernie leant forward and grabbed Pam by the broken forearm and pulled her in front of him. "Ow, that hurts!" Pam shouted enthusiastically.
"I know it hurts, you idiot!" Ernie said. "Now keep still, or I'll shoot you. Hey Trixie! If you don't come out in five minutes, the broad gets it!"
For a brief moment Trixie considered the advantages of that offer, but her integrity prevailed. She stood up, brushing off an unconscious Agnostic Sparrow in the process. (The early Agnostic Sparrow always does get the worm, but is skeptical as to whether or not the great worm can be ever found.)
"I'm right here, Ernie." Trixie sighed. "Come on, and get it over with."
"Ok!" Ernie cried with glee, and pulled the trigger.


***


Trixie awoke, and for a second wondered where she was. The bed, the cabinet - she was back in her apartment in Los Angeles! Her radio had been left on in the lounge, and she stumbled out of bed to go switch it off. Her mouth tasted funny - marshmallows, she wondered? And boy, what a strange dream she'd had the night before.
Upon entering her lounge, Trixie stopped in shock. Sitting in her couch were a strikingly beautiful girl and a slightly younger boy. They were holding hands, and looking at her with smiles on their faces.
"Pam? ... Taylor?" Somehow the names came right to the forefront of Trixie's mind.
"Hi Trixie." The boy said. "Bet you're wondering how we got here, huh?"
Trixie sat down in stunned shock.
"Uh... yeah. How did you get here?" She finally managed to stammer out. "You were in my dream."
"That was no dream, Trixie." The boy continued. "But your and our unfortunate reality for the past few days. Check your phone - you haven't been here for a week."
"It was all real?" Trixie said. "Even the bit about Karl Nicholls being somewhat attractive?"
"Well, that was something of an embellishment." Taylor laughed. "But the rest of it was all real."
"But, I remember... Ernie shot me! He was going to steal first prize!" Trixie cried.
"I know, I know!" Taylor said. "But Pam saved us all. Tell her how you did it, Pam!"
Pam smiled, and began to speak.


Chapter Twenty-Five : : Chapter Twenty-Seven