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The ringing of the phone hit Killian’s ears again, this time agitating them even further. The small jail cell’s now cool temperature caused the lizard to cross his arms to conserve his inner heat. He growled slightly as he wrapped his tail around his leg, covered by the black rocker jeans he typically wore.
It had been hours since he had been stuck in the cell by a lazy cop, left to rot there until someone at his residence got the message that he was there. Normally, a situation like this would frighten him, especially if there were much larger criminals he had share the cell with. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to worry about that, as he was currently the cell’s lone occupant.
His mood was that of anger instead. Anger at the reason why he was currently here, and that his “friend” Baph wasn’t. His mind raced a bit as he recalled the events that had taken place before the lizard’s unfortunate arrest.
Killian and Baph had decided to do a bit of graffiti arting, an idea that Baph came up with. Although not usually one to commit a crime, Killian had figured that it would be a harmless prank, especially on a building that he had been abandoned for several years. Unfortunately, he hadn’t counted on the very large and even more grotesque image of a woman his goat friend spray painted onto the building...or for the police to suddenly show up.
The lizard had attempted to explain what happened to the cops, but Baph had opted to sprint off, leaving his bandmate to deal with the cops alone. Needless to say, Killian had to take a ride in the squad car to the station...and he wasn’t happy about it at all.
So, here he was now, wasting time away in his holding cell and waiting for his bandmates to come and get him out. It was utterly boring, especially with that annoying telephone constantly ringing, even if it was only in his head at times when he heard it.
Just as Killian’s boredom had reached its peak, nearly causing the lizard to scream, he heard the noise of one of the many entrances to the station opening and closing. Thinking it was Sledge finally here to get him, he stood up and strolled to the cell door, gripping the bars tightly as he waited for the door to open, expecting to see his hammerhead friend.
Instead, the same cop who had guided him to his cell stepped through: a yellow and black wasp that stood slightly shorter than Killian, and spoke in a thick Scottish accent. The anthro insect’s face held an expression of annoyance as he led someone else through the door. Someone who made the lizard’s blood boil even more.
It was a cardinal, dressed in rather nice looking clothes for someone currently in handcuffs, as he was wearing black slacks and a white button-up t-shirt. His feathers were slicked back, but his face held an expression of anger, much like Killian. And that anger only soured in both individuals as their eyes met each other mere seconds after they had come through the door.
“Milton…” Killian growled under his breath, his teeth baring themselves as he glared daggers at the cardinal, who did the same in return. It was Phil Milton, a street thug whom Killian had encountered on more than a single occasion at this point. And those encounters were not positive ones.
The two continued their staredown as the wasp cop, whose name tag identified him as “Officer MacTavish”, led Phil to the cell that Killian was being held in. MacTavish barked something to Killian, who, in his intense staring contest with Phil, didn’t hear the officer’s statement. A fist hitting the bars of the cell door instantly snapped Killian out of his almost deaf state of rage however.
“Eh! Ya got stones in yer ears, lad? Aye said ‘back up!’” The wasp officer growled out to the lizard, twirling his keys around on one of his right hands. Killian and Phil’s faces both suddenly soured even more as the lizard backed up. MacTavish unlocked the door and then pushed Phil inside, knocking the red bird to the ground with a grunt. The cop then slammed the cell door shut again.
As he locked it back, MacTavish addressed them both in a tone that showed his uncaring mood in a blatant display; “There you are, you little shite. Ruinin’ your life, one dumbass fuckin’ decision at a time. You sit right there while I call your wife. And as for you, Lizzy Osbourne, you stay here too. Your shark friend’s on ‘is way.”
MacTavish walked off after that, twirling the keys with one of his right hands, while one of his left snapped a rhythm. Some whistling could also be heard as the wasp disappeared deeper into the police station.
“Uggh...you fucking dick…” Phil grumbled as he pulled himself onto one of the benches of the cell, dusting off his pants as he angrily looked at Killian, who returned his disdain. Phil spoke only one word of acknowledgement to him as he crossed his arms, “Moron…”
Killian just growled, a small blush forming at the common nickname coming out against him, and responded in turn, with his own nickname for the grumpy cardinal, “Putz.”
The two sat, parallel with each other and glaring into the other’s eyes. A deep silence washed over the cell as the two’s anger boiled up inside. Killian thought back as to how the two had met, and why they disliked each other so much.
He had just returned backstage to grab his favorite guitar before his band had left the club. The performance had been great, and Killian had certainly played better than he ever had before that point. Unfortunately, a band of thugs, led by his cardinal companion here, had broken into the backstage to steal some of the expensive decorations that were kept back there.
What they had done to the lizard is something he refused to talk about, even to this day. It was so bad that he considered it the second most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him. The first was another event involving Baph...and he refused to talk about that one either…
Since then, he had encountered Phil, sometimes accompanied by one or more of his fellow thugs, a number of times. Almost all of them had ended with one or both parties either beaten to near unconsciousness, or with their clothes missing. The bird probably still had a few of Killian’s custom jackets somewhere in his house...if he hadn’t pawned them.
The uneasy silence settled over the jail cell for several minutes, the two rivals avoiding eye contact with each other. With it came an overwhelming sense of boredom, one that was hard for Killian to successfully resist. It got so bad, that he was even beginning to somewhat entertain himself by messing with one of the metal buttons on his pant leg. The lizard knew by this point that if Sledge was coming to get him, then the shark was taking his sweet time getting there.
Probably recovering from being stoned… Killian mused in his head. Whatever the reason for the hammerhead’s prolonged arrival, Killian knew that he would be here for at least another hour. Maybe thirty minutes if Sledge was in a particularly good mood...and didn’t crash into any poles on his way over.
With his boredom reaching close to its peak once more, Killian looked around for anything that could stave the feeling off. Naturally, his eyes landed on the one thing new to the cell since his arrival. Looking over at Phil, Killian began to study the cardinal thoroughly. He didn’t really want to, but his boredom combined with the glaring possibility of Phil attacking him made him take in every detail he could of the scarlet bird.
Phil had on a white button-up and a pair of black slacks, an outfit hardly becoming of a street thug, but to the bird, it was his typical dress. His shirt was ruffled, however, instead of nice and pressed. The top two buttons were unfastened, and little bits of dirt and what looked to be dried blood spotted the white fabric, suggesting evidence of some sort of fight or struggle. Killian all but confirmed this possibility as he took a look at Phil’s face. The feathers were out of sorts in certain places, and it looked as if he had a nose bleed recently.
His animosity was still very apparent, but now, curiosity began to grow within the lizard. Sitting up, he leaned closer and cleared his throat, before he asked the cardinal, “So...what happened to you?”
“Eat a dick.” Was Phil’s cold reply. The bird crossed his arms and turned to the right, facing away from Killian.
Killian growled a bit in his throat as he stood up and approached the bird, sitting down next to him on the same bench. Phil responded by scooting down to the opposite end of it, putting some space between the two. Taking a moment more to calm his nerves, Killian spoke again, using every fiber of his being to resist strangling the cardinal; “Come on...we’ve got nothing better to do, and I’m bored as hell!”
Phil just ignored the statement, not even dignifying it with a response. Killian just pressed a bit more, “And I’m sure you are too...tell you what, you tell me why you’re in here, and I’ll do the same...deal?”
This time, Phil actually looked back at the lizard, before turning to face him. A moment more of silence followed, before Phil let out a groan and replied, “Fine…”
Killian adjusted himself so that he was leaning against one of the bars and then nodded for Phil to proceed. The cardinal then began his short story.
“...I was buying some coffee at the store, when this preppy poodle stepped in front of me, telling me to ‘step aside.’ I refused, and he didn’t like that. We got into an argument, and that led to him telling me to meet him outside. I obliged him...and I beat his ass until he was unconscious in a pool of his own blood.” Phil let out a devious chuckle as he recalled the fight, “Little bitch barely landed a hit on me. Unfortunately, it seems Officer McPlaid was patrolling around the area, and I got busted.”
Killian couldn’t help but laugh internally at the story, but kept his exterior calm and controlled. He almost didn’t even hear Phil ask; “Well...what about you then? What the hell did you do, lizard?”
Killian rubbed across his red colored mohawk as he recalled the events to the cardinal in a single sentence, “I...got busted for spray painting a naked macaw woman across an old factory building…”
The lizard couldn’t help but blush slightly as he spoke of the event out loud, but his blush flustered even more with both embarrassment and anger as Phil let out a loud chuckle in response to Killian’s revelation. The chuckle then morphed into a hardy laugh as Phil took in the explanation that was just presented with. After garnering his wits after a good minute or so of laughing, and after receiving a less than thrilled glare from Killian, Phil’s eyes looked to the lizard questioningly.
“That’s...that’s it? No big defiance? No ‘fuck the police’ or anything like that?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Killian replied bluntly, “And I’m irritated as fuck because my ‘friend’ came up with the idea, painted the picture, and then left me to deal with the cops.”
Phil stood up and walked a few paces ahead, before turning to face Killian again, “Look, no offense, scalebrain, but, that’s still a pretty pansy way to get put in jail for.”
Killian growled audibly at the bird’s words. Even if he wasn’t thrilled that his near perfect criminal record had been stained tonight, the insult to his masculinity was still aggravating for the yellow reptile, “And what? Nearly killing a dude by beating the shit out of him is a ‘manly’ way? I’m sure you’ve been arrested for more mundane shit like robbing a video store or something.”
Phil chuckled again, this time a dark undertone washing over his voice as he began to boast about himself, “Please. I’ve committed crimes that have made the ten o’clock news, and while you and your little group of fucking morons practice screaming till you go mute and numbing your fingers through strumming too hard, I am making a name for myself in the criminal underbelly of this city.”
Killian stood up immediately and rushed to Phil, no longer making an attempt to subdue his anger as he barred his teeth, his eyes going to slits as he got into the cardinal’s face. His primal growls entered the bird’s ears as his bandmates and music were insulted, “Oh, really?! And how exactly are you doing that? You sucking the dicks of the actual criminals, while you and your cronies do the joke work?”
Phil’s grin disappeared as the lizard’s sudden ferocity beamed into him. Killian swore that he could even see a hint of fear in the bird’s eyes. But, if there was any, Phil quickly buried it within his own anger as his lowly threatened Killian.
“Get the fuck out of my face, or you’re going to go through another session of our usual meetings…”
Killian did not back down, however, and remained up in Phil’s grill. The lizard’s natural snarls hissed their way through his throat as he spoke again, “Try me, bitch…”
Phil was a bit taken aback by Killian’s newfound mettle, as he had expected the typically shy lizard to simply back down with that threat. He was honestly surprised, and Killian could tell as he backed up a step. However, the lizard’s victory was short lived, as Phil uttered one more phrase; “Fair enough…”
Without warning and without any time to react properly, the cardinal’s hand went to the front of Killian’s pants and gripped something within. He then gave a very sharp yank upwards, bringing out a red waistband, and with it, white fabric. Within milliseconds, the legholes of Killian’s underwear were exposed, as the briefs were yanked to his chest in just a single tug. The tighty-whities almost shined against the lizard’s black outer clothing.
As the severe burning set in, Killian let out a squeak as his rage was replaced with surprise and pain. His legs went together and his hands went to his crotch in an attempt to relieve the pain caused by the sudden and intense melvin. Even then, he could feel the wedgie dig deep, splitting his rear beneath his pants, as well as crushing his balls. The bird may have been scrawny, but he had a hell of a lot of strength backing him up.
Phil gave the briefs another good yank, getting another pained whimper from Killian, and then let go, causing Killian to drop to his knees, gasping as the tighty-whities bunched up at the top of his pants. The lizard shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as the sensation of the short but brutal wedgie wore off. Definitely one of the harder ones he had ever had the displeasure of receiving...and he had gotten ones from more brutish types like Sledge and Fishfingers.
As he recovered, Phil took a moment to circle the lizard. Much like a feral vulture would circle a dying animal in the wild, or an anthro vulture would circle unsuspecting victims at banks and sign them up for home mortgages they wouldn’t be able to pay off for thirty years. The cardinal just smiled as he spoke lowly to Killian, “Let that be your final warning, you Iron Hindenburg wannabe.”
Phil took his leave, or as best a leave as he could in a confined jail cell, and headed for one of the benches to sit down. However, the new insult to his musical talents ignited Killian’s rage once again. The pain now being reduced to a dull throb, and even that fading away quickly, the lizard got to his feet. He then let out a shout of anger and charged the cardinal.
Phil only had milliseconds to react as he turned in surprise, only to be tackled by Killian into the bench. The impact of the two knocked the wind out of Phil, who let out a loud “oof” as they collided with the metal seat. Killian, however, paid no mind to this, as he had a different target in mind.
Balling his fist, Killian unleashed a fury of punches to any part of Phil he could, namely his face and torso. The bird took the punches fairly well, given his shocked state, but he did begin to bleed from his mouth as Killian landed a rather hard punch to it. The lizard let out his rage through the punches, as well as via a stream of obscenities he loudly roared out.
“BITCH!!! FUCKWAD!!! Insult my band and music...FUCKING TAKE THIS, YOU RED SHIT!!!”
This stream was interrupted as Phil regained his bearing on reality, and used his legs to force Killian off of him. As the lizard landed on his rear with a grunt, the cardinal wiped off some blood from his mouth’s side. He then angrily shouted as he approached Killian, “Oh, YOU WANNA FUCKING GO?! LET’S GO THEN, MCHAZBITCH!!!”
He ended this insult with a blow to Killian’s left jaw, dazing the lizard. Before Killian could even recover though, Phil hit him hard in the gut, causing him to gasp for air. The bird then hit him there again, before he planted his right foot onto Killian’s back in a rather martial art-like maneuver. Phil then forced Killian to the ground, where he landed another punch to the side of Killian’s face, blacking the lizard’s eye.
Killian shut his eye as the blow nearly blinded it completely, only to gasp as Phil pulled the lizard up by his mohawk feathers. Phil laughed and taunted as he brought Killian to his feet again, “They say birds and reptiles both descended from dinosaurs. I think I’m about to prove who’s the better cousin right here!”
Phil slammed Killian’s face directly into one of the metal bars of the cell door. The impact was so sudden that Killian only saw it coming for a single second, before his vision went blurry and his senses went numb. The force of the blow caused blood to squirt from Killian’s nose, and a great deal of pain rushed to his face once his sense of touch returned moments later. His hands went to his nose, only to feel blood gushing out of both nostrils, forcing him to breath through his mouth. The constant pain and the now crooked way his nose felt indicated that his nose was now broken.
He did not fall to the ground as let out a shout of pain, however, as Phil kept Killian pressed against the door. While the lizard was distracted, the cardinal tore one of the sharpened metal spikes from the punk jacket he wore, a devious idea forming in his head.
As Killian’s daze wore off and his vision and hearing returned to normal, the lizard’s groans turned to gasps as he felt his tail being lifted up and something sharp running across the seat of pants and up his back. Looking back, he saw Phil toss the spike away, before he smiled at the lizard, “Ahh, back to reality I see. Now we can continue, McHazBitch.”
With that, the bird tugged, and as he did a ripping sound caught Killian’s ear. A black garment was torn to shreds in Phil’s hands, and the feeling of something around his legs disappeared. Still with his hands over his bloodied snout, Killian looked down, only to confirm that his pants had just been removed and destroyed, exposing the slightly stretched briefs fully. His blush returned in full force as Phil tugged on his tail and gripped on his jacket.
“And now for the jacket!” He nearly sang as he tore the garment away from Killian’s body, tossing the lizard to the back of the cell, his blue t-shirt and white underpants now totally on display. The shredded remains of his punk clothes were then tossed next to him for him to see.
Phil just laughed sinisterly as he began to approach the defeated lizard, but as he did, the familiar sound of a Scottish native interrupted him as footsteps approached.
“Now just what the hell do ya think yer doin’, Milton?!” MacTavish shouted as he activated a stun pistol, and jingled his keys with another hand. “Beatin’ up a defenseless cell mate? Pretty fuckin’ scumy if ya ask me! Now, step away from ‘im!”
“Uggh!” Phil groaned as he turned away from Killian to face MacTavish, “You are the biggest fucking killjoy, you striped buffoon!”
“Ohhh, insultin’ my appearance now? Yer askin’ fer a beatin’, ya git…” Their insults trailed off as Killian continued to stare at the shredded remains of his favorite clothes in horror. He had them for several years now, and he wore them everywhere. Sure, he had replacements, but these were his original set. They were special to him, and now they were just...gone...poof, like that.
...you...are going to fucking pay, Philip… His mind raced as his heart rate increased and his adrenaline picked up speed. Taking his hands away from his injured face, the lizard let out a low growl as he slowly approached the unaware bird. He started on all fours like an actual animal, before getting up to march at him on two feet. Once again, he balled his right fist as he built up momentum in his arm for a punch. As he reached Phil, he grabbed the bird’s shoulder with his left hand, spinning him around to face him again.
As soon as the two’s eyes met, Killian’s fist connected with Phil’s face.
What followed was something the lizard would never forget any time soon. As his fist slammed into Phil’s face, the impact nailed the bird right where his beak met his head. Some of the black cracked and a couple of chips even separated from the rest, and of course, some blood flew out of his already wounded mouth. Killian caught a glimpse of the cardinal’s eyes as Phil began to drop, noticing how they rolled back into his head. The scarlet thug hit the ground hard, his ass in the air and his tail feathers draping across his head.
However, Killian would have to celebrate his first knock out punch ever at a later time, as a new chorus of excruciating pain echoed through his right hand. It was so bad, that the pain of his broken nose lessened by comparison, now being nothing more than a dull throb. The lizard let out a less than masculine scream as he grabbed his right hand, looking as to why it hurt so bad now.
A piece of black had embedded itself in his middle finger, stabbing through and sticking in like an arrowhead. A small trickle of blood dripped from the new wound, and it looked as if it had gone through at least a few layers of his hard scales. That was only one of the reasons for his pain though, as he looked to the back of his hand. Two large lumps now lay towards the middle of his hand as opposed to their rightful places at the top. The realization that he had dislocated his knuckles with the hard punch both surprised and upset Killian, but the lizard put it to the back of his mind as he attempted to relocate the knuckles, to no avail.
MacTavish, meanwhile, had watched the whole spectacle unfold before him. The wasp eyed Killian with a surprised look of his own as he witnessed the lizard turn to face him after a few minutes of attempting to get his knuckles back into place. As he did, MacTavish fiddled with his keys, using them to unlock the cell door and enter. The cop took in the state of the cell after the fight, looking at the shredded clothes, small splatters of blood and, of course, Phil’s unconscious form slumped on the floor. Bending down, the wasp checked Phil, chuckling a bit as he addressed Killian.
“Damn, laddie. Ya really laid ‘im out good. Nice punch too.”
Killian only responded with a pained whine as he presented his injured hand to the police officer, “Uggh...ahhh...my...my hand...nnng...I think it’s..it’s fucking dislocated...uggh...goddamn it…”
MacTavish looked at the state of the lizard, simply laughing as he guided him out of the cell, “Hehe, yeah, he banged yer shit up really fuckin’ good. Nothing that can’t be fixed though!”
The wasp and lizard left the cell, the former locking it back...just in case Phil woke up and got any bright ideas. Not that either expected the cardinal to wake up anytime soon…
“Alright then...annnnd there!”
“AHHHH! FUCK!!!!” Killian exclaimed as the piece of Phil’s beak was removed from his finger by MacTavish, the wasp yanking it out hard. Some blood squirted out of the open wound, before being quickly bandaged by the wasp. The Scotsman just chuckled as he set the tweezers with the piece of bloodied beak down on the table.
“Oh, quit bein’ a fuckin’ pussy. That’s not even the really painful part...that starts now…” As MacTavish spoke, he took hold of Killian’s dislocated hand with his own lower two hands, while he grabbed onto Killian’s crooked nose with the upper pair of arms. It felt odd for the lizard, but he nonetheless prepared himself as the cop said, “Alright, lad. On the count of three, Aye’m gonna pop these fuckers back into place. It’ll hurt fer a bit, but only for a moment. Ready?”
Killian took a moment to breathe, before he nodded, ready to tense up on three for the relocation of his bones. MacTavish cleared his throat, before he began to count, “One…”
The sudden movement of the wasp’s fingers, followed by a burst of pressure on the affected areas of Killian’s body, as well as bursts of burning pain indicated the early relocation of his bones. The lizard let out a scream as his nose was straightened out and his knuckles popped back into place, making audible sounds as they did. As soon as they were, MacTavish let out a loud laugh and let go of the lizard, shouting out, “...two! Three! There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
As Killian calmed down, he noticed the pain subsiding greatly, with the only remainders being the wound left by the beak fragment, as well as dull throbbing in his formerly injured hand and nose. He panted as he looked at MacTavish, who put the tweezers back into the police station’s first aid kit, and then returned to Killian.
“Uh...thanks, officer…” Killian sheepishly said. Now that the pain was subsiding, he could worry about other things...like the fact that he was in a police station in his underwear now. He quietly used his tail to cover himself as he blushed and asked the cop, “Uh...you wouldn’t happen to have any extra pants here, would you?”
“Eh, sorry, lad.” MacTavish replied, “We just got officer uniforms and my own clothes back in the locker room. But, hey, yer friend should be here any minute. Perhaps he’ll ‘ave somethin’ fer ya.”
“Y-Yeah…right…” Killian chuckled, knowing full well that Sledge probably wouldn’t have any spare clothes for the lizard. But, that was just one downside to an otherwise positive turnout for Killian.
Sure, he had gotten blamed for a crime that he had been Baph’s idea and fault, and sure, he gotten arrested for it and put in a cell with one of his biggest rivals. And yes, he had even gotten the everloving shit kicked out of him. But, he had managed to knock Phil out. He had never won a fight with a knockout punch before, and yet, he had just done it tonight. And he couldn’t wait to brag about it to his bandmates!
He smiled as he thought of how he could retell the story to Sledge and Fishfingers, and Baph too. Probably as he was breaking the goat’s jaw for ditching him to the police.
Maybe I’ll get two knockouts tonight. The lizard lowly chuckled as he mused the idea of his revenge on Baph. However, as he thought on that, his mind wandered back to his first knockout, and how the cardinal was probably still on the floor of the cell. Killian then smirked as a new idea formed in his head. One that would require a little help…
“Hey, um, Officer MacTavish?” He asked the wasp.
“Yeeessss?”
“This is gonna seem odd to ask a cop to do, but can I, uh...can I get some help back at the cell? I got something else I wanna do to that bastard…”
MacTavish raised an “eyebrow” as his antennae twitched. He leaned forward as he questioned in a serious tone, “Yer not gonna cut off any of ‘is body parts, right?”
“N-No…”
“Well, fantastic then! Let’s go!” MacTavish cheered up suddenly as he stood up, “Anything bad you do that bird that won’t make ‘is lady upset is okay in my book!”
Killian smiled as he followed the cop back to the jail cell, walking awkwardly as he still attempted to cover himself up.
“Oi, McHazard! A van just pulled up! Aye think yer hammerhead friend is here!”
Killian chuckled as he stood up, dusting off the black slacks that once graced the legs of Phil. The pants were a bit tight for the lizard, but they still did their job well enough at covering his tighty-whities up. They would do till he got home.
As he leaned against the front desk, which MacTavish sat at, typing on the desktop that sat atop it, he watched the front door. Soon enough, the form of someone large came into view. As he sluggishly walked passed the streetlight, the form of Sledge became indistinct. Killian smiled as he saw him, but it turned to a frown as he witnessed his friend’s impaired way of walking. Suspicions arose as he saw Sledge’s dumbfounded expression, and those suspicions were all but confirmed as the shark took a few steps forward, and face planted outside the door of the police station.
Killian and MacTavish watched Sledge’s display with concerned looks, Killian even exclaiming, “Ah, shit! He’s drunk!”
“Oh, Christ, please tell me he didn’t drive his stupid ass over here ‘imself. Aye like Ryan, but Aye’ll have to jail him this time.”
“I don’t know if-” Luckily, the two’s concerns were put to rest quickly as another form appeared right after Sledge, this one even larger. The anglerfish brought out relief for Killian and irritation for MacTavish, but, at the very least, both knew that Sledge probably didn’t drive himself over.
After Fishfingers picked Sledge up by his shirt, the two entered the police station. It was then when Killian eagerly greeted the two. “Guys, you won’t believe what just happened!”
“Save it, fuckface.” Fishfingers growled out as he supported the drunken Sledge against his shoulder, “I was all set for an all night session of screaming at idiot teammates while drinking hard liquor in my underwear. And you and Baph put a fucking dent in that.”
“Hey, K-K-Killian…” Sledge slurred out, “You...you look weird...ha!”
Giving Sledge an odd look, Killian shook his head as he replied to Fishfingers, “Look, man. I’m sorry about that, but it was Baph’s fault. He-”
“He already told me what fucking happened when planted my foot on his chest and threatened to push until I went all the way through his body.” Fishfingers interrupted him.
“Really?” Killian let out a growl as he balled his fist, “Is he here?”
“He is.”
“Well, then where is the little shit?!” Killian shouted as he eagerly looked around for his future punching bag, only to be halted by Fishfingers’ massive hand.
“He’s in the van. Well, on the van, actually…”
“Come again?” Killian looked at him, a bit confused at the statement. Another drunken slurring from Sledge gave the lizard more insight on the situation, his breath’s odor indicating that the hammerhead had a lot more to drink than he usual had, “Hehehe, Baph’s going au natural for all to see!”
A loud scream from outside hit their ears as Killian looked out to the van, seeing a silhouette of someone tied to the roof. Sure enough, the figure and voice matched that of the rebellious goat. The predicament of his “friend” made Killian giggle a bit as he looked at Fishfingers.
“You tied him to the van?”
“Bare ass naked, yeah.” Fishfingers couldn’t help but smile himself, “The little shit wants to leave you to take the fall, then he bare all for a few hours.”
“Aye’ll add that one to yer record then, Les-”
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE FINISH THAT NAME.” Fishfingers growled at MacTavish, who just chuckled as he went back to the computer, “Only kidding. Aye’ll let this one slide because Killian here probably wants to go home already. Plus, once birdie back there’s wife comes to get ‘im, Aye’m headin’ home as well.”
“So, I’m free to go?” Killian asked MacTavish.
“Aye. Ya fine’s been paid. Tell that goat that he’s gonna have some community service tomorrow mornin’ though.”
“Oh, will do.” Killian grinned, “Once I’m done with him.”
“You gonna challenge him to a fight something, mate?” Sledge belched out, laughing. Fishfingers even chuckled at the thought.
“Hey, I won a fight in my cell just thirty minutes ago! Knocked the son of a bitch out too!” Killian boasted, indicating the dried blood and black eye on his face. Fishfingers let out a hardy laugh in response, but then blinked as he asked, “Wait, are you serious?”
Killian nodded to confirm, only to be met with another, albeit different, laugh from Fishfingers, who grabbed Killian with a burly arm and nearly picked him up. The anglerfish then called out, “At last! Our little brother wins his first fight! Tell me, Kill. Did you humiliate the bastard who you knocked out?”
“Well…” Killian laughed as he began to repeat the story to them as the trio exited the police station.
Phil let out grunts of pain as more and more lights in the station were turned off. The whistling of MacTavish had begun to grate on his ears as he sat there, handcuffed to one of the bars of the cell door.
According to the cop, it had been almost an hour since Killian and his friends had left the station, and about forty minutes since the cardinal had finally come back to his senses. When Phil had awakened, he had found himself in a very painful predicament. His pants were gone, taken by Killian. His shirt was torn apart and thrown away, along with the destroyed clothes of the lizard. His underwear, a pair of tighty-whities with a gold waistband and trim, was stretched above his head and over his eyes in a rather brutal atomic wedgie.
He was in a lot of pain, especially with a constant throbbing where Killian’s punch had knocked him unconscious. Phil was nonetheless not too pleased, especially as MacTavish came to address him one final time.
“Hey there, Milton. Seems your wife has been caught up in an unfortunate traffic jam downtown. One that could take hours to get through. And since Aye’m off the clock now, guess what! Ya get to spend a night ‘ere in the station! Ain’t that fun?!”
“Nnng...fuck you, you striped bastard!”
“Hmm...guess not. Ah well, what the fuck do I care? Tawes will be ‘ere around six to keep ya company till yer wife gets here. In the meantime, have fun sleepin’ in a wedgie!”
The cackling of the wasp grated Phil’s ears as his fate for the evening set in. Even then, as his humiliation was complete and the lights of the station shut off completely, Phil just growled as he thought to himself.
That lizard is going to get his little ass kicked when I see him next…just gotta get the guys together...
This is an extremely late birthday gift for my good bud
MetalAgamid, involving his sona Killian butting heads with a couple of my own characters.
This was an extremely fun story to write, and might just be my new favorite story I've posted to dA. I'm pretty sure it's my longest too, at 6,104 words.
Will there be a sequel to this one? Well, anything is possible. :P But, it'd still be a bit before we ever saw it.
Killian McHazard, Les-I mean Fishfingers, Ryan "Sledge" Rudd and the mentioned Baph all belong to MetalAgamid
Phil Milton and Officer Sean MacTavish belong to me.
It had been hours since he had been stuck in the cell by a lazy cop, left to rot there until someone at his residence got the message that he was there. Normally, a situation like this would frighten him, especially if there were much larger criminals he had share the cell with. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to worry about that, as he was currently the cell’s lone occupant.
His mood was that of anger instead. Anger at the reason why he was currently here, and that his “friend” Baph wasn’t. His mind raced a bit as he recalled the events that had taken place before the lizard’s unfortunate arrest.
Killian and Baph had decided to do a bit of graffiti arting, an idea that Baph came up with. Although not usually one to commit a crime, Killian had figured that it would be a harmless prank, especially on a building that he had been abandoned for several years. Unfortunately, he hadn’t counted on the very large and even more grotesque image of a woman his goat friend spray painted onto the building...or for the police to suddenly show up.
The lizard had attempted to explain what happened to the cops, but Baph had opted to sprint off, leaving his bandmate to deal with the cops alone. Needless to say, Killian had to take a ride in the squad car to the station...and he wasn’t happy about it at all.
So, here he was now, wasting time away in his holding cell and waiting for his bandmates to come and get him out. It was utterly boring, especially with that annoying telephone constantly ringing, even if it was only in his head at times when he heard it.
Just as Killian’s boredom had reached its peak, nearly causing the lizard to scream, he heard the noise of one of the many entrances to the station opening and closing. Thinking it was Sledge finally here to get him, he stood up and strolled to the cell door, gripping the bars tightly as he waited for the door to open, expecting to see his hammerhead friend.
Instead, the same cop who had guided him to his cell stepped through: a yellow and black wasp that stood slightly shorter than Killian, and spoke in a thick Scottish accent. The anthro insect’s face held an expression of annoyance as he led someone else through the door. Someone who made the lizard’s blood boil even more.
It was a cardinal, dressed in rather nice looking clothes for someone currently in handcuffs, as he was wearing black slacks and a white button-up t-shirt. His feathers were slicked back, but his face held an expression of anger, much like Killian. And that anger only soured in both individuals as their eyes met each other mere seconds after they had come through the door.
“Milton…” Killian growled under his breath, his teeth baring themselves as he glared daggers at the cardinal, who did the same in return. It was Phil Milton, a street thug whom Killian had encountered on more than a single occasion at this point. And those encounters were not positive ones.
The two continued their staredown as the wasp cop, whose name tag identified him as “Officer MacTavish”, led Phil to the cell that Killian was being held in. MacTavish barked something to Killian, who, in his intense staring contest with Phil, didn’t hear the officer’s statement. A fist hitting the bars of the cell door instantly snapped Killian out of his almost deaf state of rage however.
“Eh! Ya got stones in yer ears, lad? Aye said ‘back up!’” The wasp officer growled out to the lizard, twirling his keys around on one of his right hands. Killian and Phil’s faces both suddenly soured even more as the lizard backed up. MacTavish unlocked the door and then pushed Phil inside, knocking the red bird to the ground with a grunt. The cop then slammed the cell door shut again.
As he locked it back, MacTavish addressed them both in a tone that showed his uncaring mood in a blatant display; “There you are, you little shite. Ruinin’ your life, one dumbass fuckin’ decision at a time. You sit right there while I call your wife. And as for you, Lizzy Osbourne, you stay here too. Your shark friend’s on ‘is way.”
MacTavish walked off after that, twirling the keys with one of his right hands, while one of his left snapped a rhythm. Some whistling could also be heard as the wasp disappeared deeper into the police station.
“Uggh...you fucking dick…” Phil grumbled as he pulled himself onto one of the benches of the cell, dusting off his pants as he angrily looked at Killian, who returned his disdain. Phil spoke only one word of acknowledgement to him as he crossed his arms, “Moron…”
Killian just growled, a small blush forming at the common nickname coming out against him, and responded in turn, with his own nickname for the grumpy cardinal, “Putz.”
The two sat, parallel with each other and glaring into the other’s eyes. A deep silence washed over the cell as the two’s anger boiled up inside. Killian thought back as to how the two had met, and why they disliked each other so much.
He had just returned backstage to grab his favorite guitar before his band had left the club. The performance had been great, and Killian had certainly played better than he ever had before that point. Unfortunately, a band of thugs, led by his cardinal companion here, had broken into the backstage to steal some of the expensive decorations that were kept back there.
What they had done to the lizard is something he refused to talk about, even to this day. It was so bad that he considered it the second most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him. The first was another event involving Baph...and he refused to talk about that one either…
Since then, he had encountered Phil, sometimes accompanied by one or more of his fellow thugs, a number of times. Almost all of them had ended with one or both parties either beaten to near unconsciousness, or with their clothes missing. The bird probably still had a few of Killian’s custom jackets somewhere in his house...if he hadn’t pawned them.
The uneasy silence settled over the jail cell for several minutes, the two rivals avoiding eye contact with each other. With it came an overwhelming sense of boredom, one that was hard for Killian to successfully resist. It got so bad, that he was even beginning to somewhat entertain himself by messing with one of the metal buttons on his pant leg. The lizard knew by this point that if Sledge was coming to get him, then the shark was taking his sweet time getting there.
Probably recovering from being stoned… Killian mused in his head. Whatever the reason for the hammerhead’s prolonged arrival, Killian knew that he would be here for at least another hour. Maybe thirty minutes if Sledge was in a particularly good mood...and didn’t crash into any poles on his way over.
With his boredom reaching close to its peak once more, Killian looked around for anything that could stave the feeling off. Naturally, his eyes landed on the one thing new to the cell since his arrival. Looking over at Phil, Killian began to study the cardinal thoroughly. He didn’t really want to, but his boredom combined with the glaring possibility of Phil attacking him made him take in every detail he could of the scarlet bird.
Phil had on a white button-up and a pair of black slacks, an outfit hardly becoming of a street thug, but to the bird, it was his typical dress. His shirt was ruffled, however, instead of nice and pressed. The top two buttons were unfastened, and little bits of dirt and what looked to be dried blood spotted the white fabric, suggesting evidence of some sort of fight or struggle. Killian all but confirmed this possibility as he took a look at Phil’s face. The feathers were out of sorts in certain places, and it looked as if he had a nose bleed recently.
His animosity was still very apparent, but now, curiosity began to grow within the lizard. Sitting up, he leaned closer and cleared his throat, before he asked the cardinal, “So...what happened to you?”
“Eat a dick.” Was Phil’s cold reply. The bird crossed his arms and turned to the right, facing away from Killian.
Killian growled a bit in his throat as he stood up and approached the bird, sitting down next to him on the same bench. Phil responded by scooting down to the opposite end of it, putting some space between the two. Taking a moment more to calm his nerves, Killian spoke again, using every fiber of his being to resist strangling the cardinal; “Come on...we’ve got nothing better to do, and I’m bored as hell!”
Phil just ignored the statement, not even dignifying it with a response. Killian just pressed a bit more, “And I’m sure you are too...tell you what, you tell me why you’re in here, and I’ll do the same...deal?”
This time, Phil actually looked back at the lizard, before turning to face him. A moment more of silence followed, before Phil let out a groan and replied, “Fine…”
Killian adjusted himself so that he was leaning against one of the bars and then nodded for Phil to proceed. The cardinal then began his short story.
“...I was buying some coffee at the store, when this preppy poodle stepped in front of me, telling me to ‘step aside.’ I refused, and he didn’t like that. We got into an argument, and that led to him telling me to meet him outside. I obliged him...and I beat his ass until he was unconscious in a pool of his own blood.” Phil let out a devious chuckle as he recalled the fight, “Little bitch barely landed a hit on me. Unfortunately, it seems Officer McPlaid was patrolling around the area, and I got busted.”
Killian couldn’t help but laugh internally at the story, but kept his exterior calm and controlled. He almost didn’t even hear Phil ask; “Well...what about you then? What the hell did you do, lizard?”
Killian rubbed across his red colored mohawk as he recalled the events to the cardinal in a single sentence, “I...got busted for spray painting a naked macaw woman across an old factory building…”
The lizard couldn’t help but blush slightly as he spoke of the event out loud, but his blush flustered even more with both embarrassment and anger as Phil let out a loud chuckle in response to Killian’s revelation. The chuckle then morphed into a hardy laugh as Phil took in the explanation that was just presented with. After garnering his wits after a good minute or so of laughing, and after receiving a less than thrilled glare from Killian, Phil’s eyes looked to the lizard questioningly.
“That’s...that’s it? No big defiance? No ‘fuck the police’ or anything like that?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Killian replied bluntly, “And I’m irritated as fuck because my ‘friend’ came up with the idea, painted the picture, and then left me to deal with the cops.”
Phil stood up and walked a few paces ahead, before turning to face Killian again, “Look, no offense, scalebrain, but, that’s still a pretty pansy way to get put in jail for.”
Killian growled audibly at the bird’s words. Even if he wasn’t thrilled that his near perfect criminal record had been stained tonight, the insult to his masculinity was still aggravating for the yellow reptile, “And what? Nearly killing a dude by beating the shit out of him is a ‘manly’ way? I’m sure you’ve been arrested for more mundane shit like robbing a video store or something.”
Phil chuckled again, this time a dark undertone washing over his voice as he began to boast about himself, “Please. I’ve committed crimes that have made the ten o’clock news, and while you and your little group of fucking morons practice screaming till you go mute and numbing your fingers through strumming too hard, I am making a name for myself in the criminal underbelly of this city.”
Killian stood up immediately and rushed to Phil, no longer making an attempt to subdue his anger as he barred his teeth, his eyes going to slits as he got into the cardinal’s face. His primal growls entered the bird’s ears as his bandmates and music were insulted, “Oh, really?! And how exactly are you doing that? You sucking the dicks of the actual criminals, while you and your cronies do the joke work?”
Phil’s grin disappeared as the lizard’s sudden ferocity beamed into him. Killian swore that he could even see a hint of fear in the bird’s eyes. But, if there was any, Phil quickly buried it within his own anger as his lowly threatened Killian.
“Get the fuck out of my face, or you’re going to go through another session of our usual meetings…”
Killian did not back down, however, and remained up in Phil’s grill. The lizard’s natural snarls hissed their way through his throat as he spoke again, “Try me, bitch…”
Phil was a bit taken aback by Killian’s newfound mettle, as he had expected the typically shy lizard to simply back down with that threat. He was honestly surprised, and Killian could tell as he backed up a step. However, the lizard’s victory was short lived, as Phil uttered one more phrase; “Fair enough…”
Without warning and without any time to react properly, the cardinal’s hand went to the front of Killian’s pants and gripped something within. He then gave a very sharp yank upwards, bringing out a red waistband, and with it, white fabric. Within milliseconds, the legholes of Killian’s underwear were exposed, as the briefs were yanked to his chest in just a single tug. The tighty-whities almost shined against the lizard’s black outer clothing.
As the severe burning set in, Killian let out a squeak as his rage was replaced with surprise and pain. His legs went together and his hands went to his crotch in an attempt to relieve the pain caused by the sudden and intense melvin. Even then, he could feel the wedgie dig deep, splitting his rear beneath his pants, as well as crushing his balls. The bird may have been scrawny, but he had a hell of a lot of strength backing him up.
Phil gave the briefs another good yank, getting another pained whimper from Killian, and then let go, causing Killian to drop to his knees, gasping as the tighty-whities bunched up at the top of his pants. The lizard shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as the sensation of the short but brutal wedgie wore off. Definitely one of the harder ones he had ever had the displeasure of receiving...and he had gotten ones from more brutish types like Sledge and Fishfingers.
As he recovered, Phil took a moment to circle the lizard. Much like a feral vulture would circle a dying animal in the wild, or an anthro vulture would circle unsuspecting victims at banks and sign them up for home mortgages they wouldn’t be able to pay off for thirty years. The cardinal just smiled as he spoke lowly to Killian, “Let that be your final warning, you Iron Hindenburg wannabe.”
Phil took his leave, or as best a leave as he could in a confined jail cell, and headed for one of the benches to sit down. However, the new insult to his musical talents ignited Killian’s rage once again. The pain now being reduced to a dull throb, and even that fading away quickly, the lizard got to his feet. He then let out a shout of anger and charged the cardinal.
Phil only had milliseconds to react as he turned in surprise, only to be tackled by Killian into the bench. The impact of the two knocked the wind out of Phil, who let out a loud “oof” as they collided with the metal seat. Killian, however, paid no mind to this, as he had a different target in mind.
Balling his fist, Killian unleashed a fury of punches to any part of Phil he could, namely his face and torso. The bird took the punches fairly well, given his shocked state, but he did begin to bleed from his mouth as Killian landed a rather hard punch to it. The lizard let out his rage through the punches, as well as via a stream of obscenities he loudly roared out.
“BITCH!!! FUCKWAD!!! Insult my band and music...FUCKING TAKE THIS, YOU RED SHIT!!!”
This stream was interrupted as Phil regained his bearing on reality, and used his legs to force Killian off of him. As the lizard landed on his rear with a grunt, the cardinal wiped off some blood from his mouth’s side. He then angrily shouted as he approached Killian, “Oh, YOU WANNA FUCKING GO?! LET’S GO THEN, MCHAZBITCH!!!”
He ended this insult with a blow to Killian’s left jaw, dazing the lizard. Before Killian could even recover though, Phil hit him hard in the gut, causing him to gasp for air. The bird then hit him there again, before he planted his right foot onto Killian’s back in a rather martial art-like maneuver. Phil then forced Killian to the ground, where he landed another punch to the side of Killian’s face, blacking the lizard’s eye.
Killian shut his eye as the blow nearly blinded it completely, only to gasp as Phil pulled the lizard up by his mohawk feathers. Phil laughed and taunted as he brought Killian to his feet again, “They say birds and reptiles both descended from dinosaurs. I think I’m about to prove who’s the better cousin right here!”
Phil slammed Killian’s face directly into one of the metal bars of the cell door. The impact was so sudden that Killian only saw it coming for a single second, before his vision went blurry and his senses went numb. The force of the blow caused blood to squirt from Killian’s nose, and a great deal of pain rushed to his face once his sense of touch returned moments later. His hands went to his nose, only to feel blood gushing out of both nostrils, forcing him to breath through his mouth. The constant pain and the now crooked way his nose felt indicated that his nose was now broken.
He did not fall to the ground as let out a shout of pain, however, as Phil kept Killian pressed against the door. While the lizard was distracted, the cardinal tore one of the sharpened metal spikes from the punk jacket he wore, a devious idea forming in his head.
As Killian’s daze wore off and his vision and hearing returned to normal, the lizard’s groans turned to gasps as he felt his tail being lifted up and something sharp running across the seat of pants and up his back. Looking back, he saw Phil toss the spike away, before he smiled at the lizard, “Ahh, back to reality I see. Now we can continue, McHazBitch.”
With that, the bird tugged, and as he did a ripping sound caught Killian’s ear. A black garment was torn to shreds in Phil’s hands, and the feeling of something around his legs disappeared. Still with his hands over his bloodied snout, Killian looked down, only to confirm that his pants had just been removed and destroyed, exposing the slightly stretched briefs fully. His blush returned in full force as Phil tugged on his tail and gripped on his jacket.
“And now for the jacket!” He nearly sang as he tore the garment away from Killian’s body, tossing the lizard to the back of the cell, his blue t-shirt and white underpants now totally on display. The shredded remains of his punk clothes were then tossed next to him for him to see.
Phil just laughed sinisterly as he began to approach the defeated lizard, but as he did, the familiar sound of a Scottish native interrupted him as footsteps approached.
“Now just what the hell do ya think yer doin’, Milton?!” MacTavish shouted as he activated a stun pistol, and jingled his keys with another hand. “Beatin’ up a defenseless cell mate? Pretty fuckin’ scumy if ya ask me! Now, step away from ‘im!”
“Uggh!” Phil groaned as he turned away from Killian to face MacTavish, “You are the biggest fucking killjoy, you striped buffoon!”
“Ohhh, insultin’ my appearance now? Yer askin’ fer a beatin’, ya git…” Their insults trailed off as Killian continued to stare at the shredded remains of his favorite clothes in horror. He had them for several years now, and he wore them everywhere. Sure, he had replacements, but these were his original set. They were special to him, and now they were just...gone...poof, like that.
...you...are going to fucking pay, Philip… His mind raced as his heart rate increased and his adrenaline picked up speed. Taking his hands away from his injured face, the lizard let out a low growl as he slowly approached the unaware bird. He started on all fours like an actual animal, before getting up to march at him on two feet. Once again, he balled his right fist as he built up momentum in his arm for a punch. As he reached Phil, he grabbed the bird’s shoulder with his left hand, spinning him around to face him again.
As soon as the two’s eyes met, Killian’s fist connected with Phil’s face.
What followed was something the lizard would never forget any time soon. As his fist slammed into Phil’s face, the impact nailed the bird right where his beak met his head. Some of the black cracked and a couple of chips even separated from the rest, and of course, some blood flew out of his already wounded mouth. Killian caught a glimpse of the cardinal’s eyes as Phil began to drop, noticing how they rolled back into his head. The scarlet thug hit the ground hard, his ass in the air and his tail feathers draping across his head.
However, Killian would have to celebrate his first knock out punch ever at a later time, as a new chorus of excruciating pain echoed through his right hand. It was so bad, that the pain of his broken nose lessened by comparison, now being nothing more than a dull throb. The lizard let out a less than masculine scream as he grabbed his right hand, looking as to why it hurt so bad now.
A piece of black had embedded itself in his middle finger, stabbing through and sticking in like an arrowhead. A small trickle of blood dripped from the new wound, and it looked as if it had gone through at least a few layers of his hard scales. That was only one of the reasons for his pain though, as he looked to the back of his hand. Two large lumps now lay towards the middle of his hand as opposed to their rightful places at the top. The realization that he had dislocated his knuckles with the hard punch both surprised and upset Killian, but the lizard put it to the back of his mind as he attempted to relocate the knuckles, to no avail.
MacTavish, meanwhile, had watched the whole spectacle unfold before him. The wasp eyed Killian with a surprised look of his own as he witnessed the lizard turn to face him after a few minutes of attempting to get his knuckles back into place. As he did, MacTavish fiddled with his keys, using them to unlock the cell door and enter. The cop took in the state of the cell after the fight, looking at the shredded clothes, small splatters of blood and, of course, Phil’s unconscious form slumped on the floor. Bending down, the wasp checked Phil, chuckling a bit as he addressed Killian.
“Damn, laddie. Ya really laid ‘im out good. Nice punch too.”
Killian only responded with a pained whine as he presented his injured hand to the police officer, “Uggh...ahhh...my...my hand...nnng...I think it’s..it’s fucking dislocated...uggh...goddamn it…”
MacTavish looked at the state of the lizard, simply laughing as he guided him out of the cell, “Hehe, yeah, he banged yer shit up really fuckin’ good. Nothing that can’t be fixed though!”
The wasp and lizard left the cell, the former locking it back...just in case Phil woke up and got any bright ideas. Not that either expected the cardinal to wake up anytime soon…
“Alright then...annnnd there!”
“AHHHH! FUCK!!!!” Killian exclaimed as the piece of Phil’s beak was removed from his finger by MacTavish, the wasp yanking it out hard. Some blood squirted out of the open wound, before being quickly bandaged by the wasp. The Scotsman just chuckled as he set the tweezers with the piece of bloodied beak down on the table.
“Oh, quit bein’ a fuckin’ pussy. That’s not even the really painful part...that starts now…” As MacTavish spoke, he took hold of Killian’s dislocated hand with his own lower two hands, while he grabbed onto Killian’s crooked nose with the upper pair of arms. It felt odd for the lizard, but he nonetheless prepared himself as the cop said, “Alright, lad. On the count of three, Aye’m gonna pop these fuckers back into place. It’ll hurt fer a bit, but only for a moment. Ready?”
Killian took a moment to breathe, before he nodded, ready to tense up on three for the relocation of his bones. MacTavish cleared his throat, before he began to count, “One…”
The sudden movement of the wasp’s fingers, followed by a burst of pressure on the affected areas of Killian’s body, as well as bursts of burning pain indicated the early relocation of his bones. The lizard let out a scream as his nose was straightened out and his knuckles popped back into place, making audible sounds as they did. As soon as they were, MacTavish let out a loud laugh and let go of the lizard, shouting out, “...two! Three! There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
As Killian calmed down, he noticed the pain subsiding greatly, with the only remainders being the wound left by the beak fragment, as well as dull throbbing in his formerly injured hand and nose. He panted as he looked at MacTavish, who put the tweezers back into the police station’s first aid kit, and then returned to Killian.
“Uh...thanks, officer…” Killian sheepishly said. Now that the pain was subsiding, he could worry about other things...like the fact that he was in a police station in his underwear now. He quietly used his tail to cover himself as he blushed and asked the cop, “Uh...you wouldn’t happen to have any extra pants here, would you?”
“Eh, sorry, lad.” MacTavish replied, “We just got officer uniforms and my own clothes back in the locker room. But, hey, yer friend should be here any minute. Perhaps he’ll ‘ave somethin’ fer ya.”
“Y-Yeah…right…” Killian chuckled, knowing full well that Sledge probably wouldn’t have any spare clothes for the lizard. But, that was just one downside to an otherwise positive turnout for Killian.
Sure, he had gotten blamed for a crime that he had been Baph’s idea and fault, and sure, he gotten arrested for it and put in a cell with one of his biggest rivals. And yes, he had even gotten the everloving shit kicked out of him. But, he had managed to knock Phil out. He had never won a fight with a knockout punch before, and yet, he had just done it tonight. And he couldn’t wait to brag about it to his bandmates!
He smiled as he thought of how he could retell the story to Sledge and Fishfingers, and Baph too. Probably as he was breaking the goat’s jaw for ditching him to the police.
Maybe I’ll get two knockouts tonight. The lizard lowly chuckled as he mused the idea of his revenge on Baph. However, as he thought on that, his mind wandered back to his first knockout, and how the cardinal was probably still on the floor of the cell. Killian then smirked as a new idea formed in his head. One that would require a little help…
“Hey, um, Officer MacTavish?” He asked the wasp.
“Yeeessss?”
“This is gonna seem odd to ask a cop to do, but can I, uh...can I get some help back at the cell? I got something else I wanna do to that bastard…”
MacTavish raised an “eyebrow” as his antennae twitched. He leaned forward as he questioned in a serious tone, “Yer not gonna cut off any of ‘is body parts, right?”
“N-No…”
“Well, fantastic then! Let’s go!” MacTavish cheered up suddenly as he stood up, “Anything bad you do that bird that won’t make ‘is lady upset is okay in my book!”
Killian smiled as he followed the cop back to the jail cell, walking awkwardly as he still attempted to cover himself up.
“Oi, McHazard! A van just pulled up! Aye think yer hammerhead friend is here!”
Killian chuckled as he stood up, dusting off the black slacks that once graced the legs of Phil. The pants were a bit tight for the lizard, but they still did their job well enough at covering his tighty-whities up. They would do till he got home.
As he leaned against the front desk, which MacTavish sat at, typing on the desktop that sat atop it, he watched the front door. Soon enough, the form of someone large came into view. As he sluggishly walked passed the streetlight, the form of Sledge became indistinct. Killian smiled as he saw him, but it turned to a frown as he witnessed his friend’s impaired way of walking. Suspicions arose as he saw Sledge’s dumbfounded expression, and those suspicions were all but confirmed as the shark took a few steps forward, and face planted outside the door of the police station.
Killian and MacTavish watched Sledge’s display with concerned looks, Killian even exclaiming, “Ah, shit! He’s drunk!”
“Oh, Christ, please tell me he didn’t drive his stupid ass over here ‘imself. Aye like Ryan, but Aye’ll have to jail him this time.”
“I don’t know if-” Luckily, the two’s concerns were put to rest quickly as another form appeared right after Sledge, this one even larger. The anglerfish brought out relief for Killian and irritation for MacTavish, but, at the very least, both knew that Sledge probably didn’t drive himself over.
After Fishfingers picked Sledge up by his shirt, the two entered the police station. It was then when Killian eagerly greeted the two. “Guys, you won’t believe what just happened!”
“Save it, fuckface.” Fishfingers growled out as he supported the drunken Sledge against his shoulder, “I was all set for an all night session of screaming at idiot teammates while drinking hard liquor in my underwear. And you and Baph put a fucking dent in that.”
“Hey, K-K-Killian…” Sledge slurred out, “You...you look weird...ha!”
Giving Sledge an odd look, Killian shook his head as he replied to Fishfingers, “Look, man. I’m sorry about that, but it was Baph’s fault. He-”
“He already told me what fucking happened when planted my foot on his chest and threatened to push until I went all the way through his body.” Fishfingers interrupted him.
“Really?” Killian let out a growl as he balled his fist, “Is he here?”
“He is.”
“Well, then where is the little shit?!” Killian shouted as he eagerly looked around for his future punching bag, only to be halted by Fishfingers’ massive hand.
“He’s in the van. Well, on the van, actually…”
“Come again?” Killian looked at him, a bit confused at the statement. Another drunken slurring from Sledge gave the lizard more insight on the situation, his breath’s odor indicating that the hammerhead had a lot more to drink than he usual had, “Hehehe, Baph’s going au natural for all to see!”
A loud scream from outside hit their ears as Killian looked out to the van, seeing a silhouette of someone tied to the roof. Sure enough, the figure and voice matched that of the rebellious goat. The predicament of his “friend” made Killian giggle a bit as he looked at Fishfingers.
“You tied him to the van?”
“Bare ass naked, yeah.” Fishfingers couldn’t help but smile himself, “The little shit wants to leave you to take the fall, then he bare all for a few hours.”
“Aye’ll add that one to yer record then, Les-”
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE FINISH THAT NAME.” Fishfingers growled at MacTavish, who just chuckled as he went back to the computer, “Only kidding. Aye’ll let this one slide because Killian here probably wants to go home already. Plus, once birdie back there’s wife comes to get ‘im, Aye’m headin’ home as well.”
“So, I’m free to go?” Killian asked MacTavish.
“Aye. Ya fine’s been paid. Tell that goat that he’s gonna have some community service tomorrow mornin’ though.”
“Oh, will do.” Killian grinned, “Once I’m done with him.”
“You gonna challenge him to a fight something, mate?” Sledge belched out, laughing. Fishfingers even chuckled at the thought.
“Hey, I won a fight in my cell just thirty minutes ago! Knocked the son of a bitch out too!” Killian boasted, indicating the dried blood and black eye on his face. Fishfingers let out a hardy laugh in response, but then blinked as he asked, “Wait, are you serious?”
Killian nodded to confirm, only to be met with another, albeit different, laugh from Fishfingers, who grabbed Killian with a burly arm and nearly picked him up. The anglerfish then called out, “At last! Our little brother wins his first fight! Tell me, Kill. Did you humiliate the bastard who you knocked out?”
“Well…” Killian laughed as he began to repeat the story to them as the trio exited the police station.
Phil let out grunts of pain as more and more lights in the station were turned off. The whistling of MacTavish had begun to grate on his ears as he sat there, handcuffed to one of the bars of the cell door.
According to the cop, it had been almost an hour since Killian and his friends had left the station, and about forty minutes since the cardinal had finally come back to his senses. When Phil had awakened, he had found himself in a very painful predicament. His pants were gone, taken by Killian. His shirt was torn apart and thrown away, along with the destroyed clothes of the lizard. His underwear, a pair of tighty-whities with a gold waistband and trim, was stretched above his head and over his eyes in a rather brutal atomic wedgie.
He was in a lot of pain, especially with a constant throbbing where Killian’s punch had knocked him unconscious. Phil was nonetheless not too pleased, especially as MacTavish came to address him one final time.
“Hey there, Milton. Seems your wife has been caught up in an unfortunate traffic jam downtown. One that could take hours to get through. And since Aye’m off the clock now, guess what! Ya get to spend a night ‘ere in the station! Ain’t that fun?!”
“Nnng...fuck you, you striped bastard!”
“Hmm...guess not. Ah well, what the fuck do I care? Tawes will be ‘ere around six to keep ya company till yer wife gets here. In the meantime, have fun sleepin’ in a wedgie!”
The cackling of the wasp grated Phil’s ears as his fate for the evening set in. Even then, as his humiliation was complete and the lights of the station shut off completely, Phil just growled as he thought to himself.
That lizard is going to get his little ass kicked when I see him next…just gotta get the guys together...
This is an extremely late birthday gift for my good bud
MetalAgamid, involving his sona Killian butting heads with a couple of my own characters.This was an extremely fun story to write, and might just be my new favorite story I've posted to dA. I'm pretty sure it's my longest too, at 6,104 words.
Will there be a sequel to this one? Well, anything is possible. :P But, it'd still be a bit before we ever saw it.
Killian McHazard, Les-I mean Fishfingers, Ryan "Sledge" Rudd and the mentioned Baph all belong to
MetalAgamidPhil Milton and Officer Sean MacTavish belong to me.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 128 x 128px
File Size 15.5 kB
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