Chapter 11: Hallelujah, It’s Raining Hobos

With no idea where he was and no plan to get himself back to the frat house, Abe decided to hum a tune to bolster his spirits. A ballad of empowerment and courage is what he needed. Abe hummed the verses, which of course he didn’t know, then reached the chorus. “It’s raining men! Hallelujah, it’s raining men! AMEN!”

Abe probably sang this line, the only line he knew from the song, twelve or so times before he was interrupted by a hobo nestled in the shadows across the road. “Oh my god, what are you singing? I’m trying to sleep!” the hobo yelled.

Abe was outraged at having his vocal concentration shattered by some smelly man of the street. He ran up to the hobo and danced, while shouting, “HALLELUJAH IT IS RAINING MEN!”

The hobo tossed his cardboard bedsheets aside and stood. “Back off!”

Abe kept dancing. “What are you gonna do, hobo? Bite me and turn me into a were-hobo? Try it, I dare you!”

The hobo was intimidated by Abe’s apparent insanity and backed off. “Why can’t you leave me alone, man?”

“Because I have had a bad day!” Abe kicked over a trash can to accentuate his point.

The hobo, terrified as he was, fled.

Chapter 10: Back on the Streets

“Soooo…I don’t have a doctorate in policing or anything but that sure didn’t look like serving or protecting. On the other hand, I do have a masters in brutality…if you catch my drift.”

The cop glared at Abe through the partition before getting out of the car and opening the back door. His hairy hand glided towards his belt. Abe wriggled in the backseat like a manic caterpillar. “Don’t brutality me!” he shrieked. The cop grabbed Abe’s wrists and undid the cuffs.

“Oh god, you’re gonna plant a gun on my corpse, aren’t you? I didn’t see any beating! They were all meth heads! They had flamethrowers and hated authority!”

“Get out of the car.” Abe obeyed. “You’re free to go, just make sure you keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”

Abe nodded. The cop got back in his car and drove off. Only after the car turned out of the view did Abe begin running in the opposite direction. Who knew extortion was so damn useful, thought Abe, I need to start blackmailing people more. Abe stopped to vomit up the excess liquor he’d ingested at the party. Seems like awhile ago now, I wonder if that dead hooker is still there. I hope nobody’s drunk enough to mess with her.

Now, with his mystery-solving crew having disappeared and in an unfamiliar part of town, Abe wasn’t sure what to do. A dingy convenience store was open across the street, but other than that everything around was closed for the night. Abe checked his pocket for his cellphone, but it wasn’t there. Probably lost in one of the various events having taken place between McDonald’s and now. Well, time for a game plan.

Chapter Nine: Don’t Trust the Police

I’ll just comply, thought Abe, the cop will never expect that! Abe stuck out his wrists. “I relinquish myself to your authority, officer.”

The cop looked confused at this sudden compliance, but went ahead and cuffed Abe and stuffed him into his car. The door shut and Abe realized that he was in a damn cop car. Why the hell did I think this was a good idea, Abe wondered. Then it him. I’m high! I’m higher than the Challenger, and just as screwed. It must have been all that pot wafting out of the hippie van.

Abe attempted to rationalize the situation, but the car drove past McDonald’s and his focus disintegrated.

“Hey, uh, officer. Are we going to McDonald’s?”

“Nope. Going to the station.”

The car stopped at a red light and Abe saw the Mystery Team walking on the sidewalk.

“Officer! It’s that dude who hit me. There! In the kerchief!” Abe bashed his head against the window since he couldn’t use his hands to point. “Arrest him!”

The Mystery Team saw Abe flailing his head around in the backseat of a police car and started laughing at him, their leader stuck up his middle finger. Abe flailed harder in his rage. The officer looked back to see what Abe was spasming about, and saw the group of 20-somethings laughing and flipping the bird in what he mistook for yet another act of youth culture vilifying the hard working law enforcement of this  great country. He threw his car into park and jumped out, shouting “Not in America, you punks!”

The Mystery Team knew that an enraged police officer was clubbing them mercilessly with his nightstick, but none of them could decipher why this was happening, no matter how hard they tried, eventually the sheer pain of the experience made them lose interest in the question. Each strike of the bludgeon made a dull thumping noise.

“Stop” thump “disrespecting” thump “the police!”

The officer’s shouts mingled with the shrieks of pain.  Abe had his face pressed against the glass, awestruck at this show of violence that seemingly came out of nowhere. Luckily for the cop, it was late and no one else was on the street.

Eventually, the Mystery Team slunked off, bruised and bleeding, and the cop’s baton-arm got tired. He returned to the car and sat panting. Abe broke the silence after a couple minutes, “Soooo…”

Answer with most votes: Make a deal with the cop, don’t say anything about the beating in exchange for freedom

Chapter Eight: The Five-O

With The Mystery Team gone, Abe sat back and waited for the police to arrive, so he could tell them his woeful tale of harassment. He could maybe mention that dead hooker while he was at it. The wailing sirens drew closer and finally the cop car pulled up in front of Abe. The cop stepped out, apparently amazed at the amount of destruction he was looking at. One burning VW van smashed into a crumbling brick wall, with the potent odor of pot whirling all about. It was only then that Abe realized he might get in trouble for all this. The cop noticed Abe.

“What in the sam hill happened here?”

“Well, first there was a dead hooker, then I called my mystery-solving gang of friends and their dumb dog, but then I got hungry and we drove out to McDonald’s, where me and the blonde dude got into a fight because he forgot my godDAMN second burger. Then, uh, he crashed the car into the wall and ran away, all for no apparent reason.” Abe thought his explanation succinct and reasonable.

“What?”

“It’s all pretty straightforward, officer. I’ll give you his description if you want to go catch him.”

“OK, I’m going to have to take you in.”

“Shit.” OK Abe, he thought to himself, this bastard’s playing hard ball, time to switch gears.

“Well, officer, I’d love to go to the police station with you, but you see, my face is pretty busted up and I think one of my ribs might be broken from the assaulting. Did I mention the assaulting? I got assaulted.”

The cop pulled out some handcuffs.

Abe’s mind raced, thinking of any possible way out of the situation. Suddenly, it hit him. I know, thought Abe, I’ll just-

Answer with most votes: Go to the police station

Chapter Seven: The Cryening

It’s time for this 21-year-old to whip up some good ol’ fashioned tears. thought Abe. He focused his mind on the one thing that would reduce him to a sobbing baby, the idea of everything that defines him disappearing into nothing upon the arrival of his inevitable death. That, and the death of his dog Sir Woofs-A-Lot. With these two surefire tear-makers, Abe quickly began whimpering and crying, while the Mystery Team took turns kicking him in the ribs.

Abe’s attackers figured his tears were the result of the beating they were delivering and stopped their kicking in pity.

“This is just pathetic, I’m calling the police.” The leader flipped open a cell phone.

The Stoner grabbed his arm. “No cops, man, I’ve got a record. And what do you think that smell is?”

There was indeed a distinct smell of cannabis wafting out of the flaming wreckage that was once the Mystery Team’s van. Far off sirens drifted within ear shot and the Pot Head began to flee the scene, shouting “Cheese it!” repeatedly as he did so. The leader bent down to give Abe a parting fist in the face and the rest of Mystery Team evacuated the area, their stupid dog trotting behind them.

Abe spit out some blood and what was either a chunk of asphalt or a tooth. He wiped the blood and tears from his face and sat up. I have no idea what to do, he realized.

Answer with most votes: Wait where he is to report being assaulted to the forthcoming police.

Chapter Six: Touched By A Psychotic Poltergeist

Mystery Team Leader rolled up his sleeves and the shaggy one held a moderate-sized stick. Abe rolled his eyes into the back of his head and began to convulse. As he flopped on the pavement like some demented fish, he spoke in a deliberate gibberish he hoped sounded like what Hollywood priests dubbed “tongues”.

The vengeful mystery team stopped short at seeing the man they planned on beating senseless already shaking on the ground. Abe stopped his flopping and stood up, holding his head and gasping.

“What happened?” Abe had never taken an acting class, but thought he was doing a pretty damn good job, like Sean Connery did in every film ever.

“You wrecked our home!” Team Leader informed Abe, while driving his fist into our hero’s gut.

The air evacuated Abe’s lungs, leaving a vacuum of pain and wheezing. Abe found himself on the asphalt again. He pleaded innocence, saying “I was possessed by the ghost of a lunatic car thief.”

A blur of corduroy pants kicked Abe in the stomach, compliments of Pot Head.

“Haven’t you guys ever seen someone get possessed?”

“No.” Two more kicks.

Acting has failed me, thought Abe. Now what?

Answer with most votes: Start crying hoping to evoke pity.

Chapter Five: The Sound and the Fury

Upon learning that the McDonald’s bag did NOT contain his second burge and that the asshole in the front seat was NOT going back in to get it, Abe entered the state most commonly referred to as “Burger Rage”. People in this condtion tend to experience lowered rationale and a severe increase in aggresion and Abe was no exception. First, he threw his McDonald’s to-go bag at the driver, the man who caused this whole episode. Then, while his target was distracted, Abe threw a right hook. Abe felt the blow connect. The driver’s side door had been slightly ajar and the mystery team’s top man toppled out of the van.

Abe jumped into the seat and turned the ignition key, laughing maniacally as the engine roared to life. His foot hammered the accelerator to the floor and he heard the rest of the mystery team bail out of the van. Their forms dwindled into the darkness of the parking lot as he continued to zoom about in aimless circles. After five or so donuts, Abe spotted the man who had so thoughtlessly denied him his second burger and aimed the van’s headlights in his direction. Seconds before collision, the villain jumped sideways. Abe cursed his failure and then noticed a brick wall rapidly approaching the van. Without stopping to think, Abe leapt from the vehicle, and slammed into the pavement with considerable force. Once he rolled to a stop, Abe looked at his handiwork. In the game of van versus wall, wall apparently wins. The crumpled mess of metal and flames didn’t much resemble the mystery team’s headquarters.

“You jackass! We lived in that van!” Now that Abe’s burger rage-haze had lifted, he knew that the owners of the wreckage were on their way way over to him and probably weren’t going to be understanding. He wracked his brain for an idea, any ideas, to avoid a good beating.

Answer with most votes: Pretend you were possessed by the ghost of a lunatic car thief.