The Kansas House

At the turn of the 20th Century, a man set out with his family investing in oil futures in the great state of Kansas. By his own hands he built a house in the plains, a tall, black, box-like structure of ornate Victorian decoration. Some time later, the house passed down to the man's son, and although his intention was always to keep it in the family, he had disappeared, along with all but one of his children. Due to these naturally strange circumstances, the grand black house had passed in and out of ownership, but had mostly lain forgotten both because of its isolation on the Great Plains and superstition regarding the disappearance of most of the family.

The current owner, in actually in name only, was a woman named Julia Mondegreen, who was essentially squatting, because she had no formal right to the land, but she was of substantial wealth, so other claimants to the house found it difficult to argue with her and her team of lawyers. This did not daunt one lawyer who had recently graduated from the University of Kansas named Melissa.

Melissa had always had an interest in the house, having lived a ways down the road as a child but never allowed to venture inside. She knew of Mondegreen's private use of the house and thought she had no right to just claim what she wanted just because no one would get in her way. It took some time, but Melissa discovered the family's surname, along with the last remaining heir, a woman named Kristen who lived outside of Philadelphia.

Now, when Melissa first sent a message to Kristen, it was ignored. Why would she travel across the country to see an old house where her grandfather lived and disappeared? Her father had been the only child who seemed to be still remaining and he had passed away years ago. Kristen was not completely eager to dredge up this past, most of which she didn't understand herself. Melissa, in her digging, though, had also found why the family had been able to build and live on the land - their investment in oil had paid off and Kristen was due for an extremely lucrative inheritance. This, more than any sympathy or nostalgia, drove her to travel across the country, by rail, because she was cheap.

Melissa met her at the train station and drove her to the house. Melissa was somewhat overweight but bursting with impossible energy and enthusiasm. Kristen was naturally hesitant when this plump sprite bounded towards her and gleefully took her bags and ushered her into her car. Kristen was cynical, thin, and jaded, a product of her father who had disavowed the family's wealth and instead built himself up in Philadelphia from blue collar roots into the middle class. Kristen spent the car ride in equal states fear and hope - fear for her family, and hope for her own future if everything went well.

The black paint on the house was heavily peeled but it still loomed over its surroundings like a tombstone in the early morning dew. A gray fog rolled over the rolling brown fields and a stark wind blew across the lands, unabated by trees or buildings to slow its chilliness. Melissa parked the car on the dirt outside, for there was no real driveway due to the house being built before Kristen's family owned a car. Melissa spoke a little of the house as they walked up the steps to the porch.

"This is really exciting! No one's stepped into this house for like sixty years. Are you excited?" She asked, tugging on Kristen's sleeve.

"Yep. So wait, you've never been inside, either?"

"No way, I was waiting for you. I'm not even sure that Mondegreen went in now, if you look through the windows, you know," Melissa went to a window and wiped some smear away with her sleeve, "If you look inside, look - see, it looks completely undisturbed."

Kristen peered inside and saw dusty shelves, old books, cans, and furniture, seemingly untouched for decades. Maybe Mondegreen really never did go inside. Melissa took a big ornate silver key out of her pocket and handed it to Kristen. Kristen didn't even seem to know what to do at first, but then stuck it in the slot, turned it, and with a jumbled, forced click, the door opened. The two ladies went inside.

"Wow, would you look at this place?" Melissa immediately had her eyes everywhere, the high ceilings, the ancient black bookcases, the old furniture. The inside seemed as black as the outside, although an extremely fair amount of dust hung on every spare inch, which softened and grayed up the place quite a bit. Immediately next to the entrance was a large mirror, probably for hat-adjusting along with a little bowl where callers deposited business cards. Melissa began flipping through and saw the names of many prominent businessmen of the day.

"Check this out! A lot of people came through here. Big names. These...these were the players. Big names here," she said to a Kristen who wasn't really paying attention. Kristen began exploring the rooms on the first floor.

"So, all this is mine, now?"

"That's right. I'll have you sign some documents when we're done looking around."

"I've never really owned a house before. That's kind of cool."

"Hey, I never asked you, I didn't know if was a sore subject, but do you know what happened here? To your grandfather, I mean?" Kristen glared at her, but then shrugged. "I didn't mean any...oh jeez, I'm sorry for bringing that up, I'm sorry. Pretend I never did that, man."

"It's alright. It's only annoying to me because I don't have an answer. But everyone seems to think that I do, or my father should have. We don't know what happened here. I didn't even know this place existed until you called me, to be honest."

They moved from the parlour to the living room, which featured bookcases with glass doors covering the books. Next to this was a desk with green felt and papers that seemed to be abandoned in haste. The center of the room featured a table with old sepia-toned pictures surrounded by comfortable chairs with Romanesque feet. It was all lavish yet seeped in neglect and the wares of time. Kristen took a shining to the pictures, some of which featured her father as a small boy, along with her aunts and uncles that she had never scene before. Finally, her grandfather and grandmother were there, a wedding photo on the mantle of the fireplace.

Her grandfather looked stern, but loving and her grandmother seemed full of joy, which was tough to do in old pictures, because taking them sucked. She was interrupted in this moment of nostalgic introspection by Melissa hollering from the kitchen.

"Hey you think these cans of corn are still good?!" she bellowed. Kristen walked into the kitchen and was taken aback at all the recipes hanging from the ceiling. Dangling from string were probably forty or fifty recipes written on bits of red paper, each step on a different shred, connected by string.

"What is this?" Kristen said while poking one, dust flittering off as it spun by the first human hand to disturb it in a half century.

"Apparently your grandmother didn't have a recipe book. But this one-" Melissa said, grabbing one that was still spinning around her head "-sounds like a great gumbo dish, I was wondering if these cans were still good."

"I'm going to guess that nothing here is good. Wow, would you look at all this stuff? I think you're right, Melissa, no one has been here in years." The kitchen was full of old cooking tools, mostly strange cranks and levers that confounded the pair. Suddenly a bright light caught Melissa's eye.

It wasn't a light as much as it was just another room, perpendicular to the living room and on the other side of a stairwell that cut through the middle of the kitchen. This room was bright and red in contrast to the dim, dark wallpaper that covered the rest of the house. The ladies walked in and saw a very fresh room with a large flatscreen television, an exercise mat, some small weights and medicine balls, and a Wii Fit attached to the TV.

"Well it looks like someone has been here in the past sixty years," Melissa sighed.

"What is this?" Kristen asked.

"I'm guessing it's Julia Mondegreen's exercise room."

"Huh. Would you look at that."

"Well, you want to look upstairs?"

"Yeah. So she only used this room? She didn't touch the rest of the house?"

"Apparently." The two women headed upstairs through the kitchen staircase. Each step creaked as if the whole house groaned. Kristen hesitated, almost feeling trepidation from the house, as if it was warning her. She ignored it, thinking of how much time Julia Mondegreen spent sweating downstairs and how this would all be hers. She thought of selling the furniture, or maybe keeping the furniture in remembrance of her family, rehabilitating her family's image. She had never thought she would move out here and leave Philadelphia, but this could be remodeled and she now had the money to do it. That's it, she thought, she would update and restore the house but remain faithful to its original vision. She could suddenly see herself living out here, and maybe everything would be okay.

The upstairs was mostly bedrooms and all but one door was open. At the top of the stairs was Kristen's father's bedroom. She could tell by the pictures on the dresser inside. the bed sheets were flung open, which Kristen thought was somewhat weird just because she always pictured old images of bedrooms to be very near and her father in her own youth had always instilled a sense of tidiness and proper bed-making. Other bedrooms she could tell belonged to her father's siblings. Kristin was pleased to learn she had had two aunts and two uncles who had lived with her grandfather, grandmother, and what looked like a maid or governess' quarters. Her father had his own room but the other children shared, with one room for the boys and one room for the girls. Judging by the pictures it seemed like her father was the oldest, and she surmised that was the reason. The bed-sheets in the other bedrooms, in all the other beds were also distraught, some thrown on the floor.

As Kristen lingered, soaking in the images of her forgotten family and imagining how they might have lived, how they might have gone about their day, Melissa made her way to the closed door at the end of the hallway, which was the Master Bedroom, positioned directly over Mondegreen's exercise room. She opened the door and stood paralyzed. She barely squeaked out a call to Kristen.

"K-Kristen? Kristen?!"

"What is it?"

"Um...come...over here." Kristen walked down the hallway with each step creaking and echoing throughout the house. She joined Melissa at the door's threshold and beheld a terrifying sight.

The skeletal remains of all four children, Kristen's grandmother, and the governess laid strewn about the room, bloodstains covering every inch of the floor, walls, and bed. Lodged in the floorboards in between a small skull and vertebrae was a large rusted axe, also covered in dust. Smeared on the wall in blood was a single message, perhaps a confessional: "I DID IT FOR THE MONEY."

The Fast and Invictus: Jo-Burg Drift

MAY 24 2043 LOS ANGELES 18:39 PST

Two cars fly down Sunset Boulevard. One, a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T nearly flips while drifting through a hairpin turn. The other, an orange 1994 Orange Toyota Supra falls behind in the following straightaway until a flash of blue screams out the tailpipe. The driver engages his nitrous and sores ahead. As the Charger pulls even, both erupt in flames. Metal, rubber, and carnage fly across the street, engulfing the palm trees and nearby abandoned shops. There are no screams. No one is running panicked. No sirens. Through a cloud of smoke, two eyes glow through an enormous robotic head.

"What's the last thing you remember?" says the deepest voice in recorded history. An old, balding, but still clearly jacked man leans in his chair. "I had a glimpse into the past. You're going to have to do for me what I once did for you."

"I can't do it, Dom. I mean...Vin." An old Spanish woman stares him down. At least she would, if she still had eyes. In front of this world-weary Vin Diesel stands Letty. I mean...Michelle Rodriguez. "We need someone else. I am basically ageless, but not immortal."

"So where do we find one of those?" The Diesel stands, still towering over most of the multi-ethnic celebrities huddling in the underground chambers they have called home for decades. The sentinels lurking outside have ravaged the world, hunting down all those not of pure Aryan blood.

"I believe I may be of assistance." Out of the darkness emerges Keanu Reeves, his face as pure as it was during Point Break. "Forgive my intrusion, but I have heard of your...special situation."

"Ha," says Michelle Rod. "Who let this busta down here?"

"Excuse me, I do not believe we are acquainted?" says Keanu.

"Miche--Letty. Michetty." Michelle says, sensing Keanu's voice despite her dual eye patches. "Now get the fuck out." Keanu turns to leave.

"Wait," says The Diesel. "I want to know what he knows."

"Are you serious, Vin? He's from...he's from the surface man, he put us down here?" Michelle says. "The busta-"

"THE BUSTA BROUGHT ME HOME!" Diesel's voice can level a mountain. "I want to hear what he knows."

Shane Falco is slightly taken aback but remains cool. "I only know that the people in this room have pinpointed the moment that caused all this horror - that exact moment where the world started to turn. With experience in what you are proposing and all the immortal qualifications, I thought I would volunteer."

"It's a trick," says Michetty. "How can we trust him? Why would he help us? Why do this?"

The Diesel remains collected. "You heard about us and our whereabouts. How?"

"This is a big organization living underground," Keanu begins. "Many among you are used to the perks of stardom. Certainly it wasn't hard for some one above to buy you out. What I am trying to do is give you a chance before they come and destroy all of you. I ask you - what choice do you have?"

"Dom-"

"Strap him down."

"Dom!"

"We trust him! Do you know what you're in for, right Neo?"

"Say it," says Keanu.

"Don't make him say it, man," says Michetty.

"You know we're going to prevent the return of apartheid and its spread on a global scale," says Diesel.

"And its enforcement by giant robots," says Keanu.

"Yeah, that," says Michetty. "Why do you need to say it out loud, man?"

"So we all know what we're fighting for." Keanu lies down on a slab of concrete. Diesel places his hands on Keanu's temples. "So I wake up in my young body and then what?"

"Find him," says Diesel. "Find the man who can stop all of this." Keanu's face glows bright blue. He starts screaming. "FIND PAUL WALKER."

NOVEMBER 27 2013 LOS ANGELES 22:03 PST

Paul Walker is a little drunk in the Hollywood Hills. He giggles at something Jason Segel says and then stumbles his way up to find the bathroom. There's a long line full of the likes of Hayden Christensen, Kevin Hart, Greta Gerwig - you know, the big names. This isn't Paul's scene. He manages to make his way outside. Leaning against the house, he unzips and a steady stream shoots from his wiener, causing some steam on an unusually chilled Los Angeles evening. He is startled by the sudden appearance of Keanu Reeves.

"Whoa, cuz!" Paul exclaims. "Gimme a sec here, pal!"

"No problem, dude," coos Keanu. Paul tops himself off and zips up.

"Wait - you're Keanu Reeves."

"That's right."

"I didn't even know you were invited, here, cuz."

"Whoa, dude, well, that's probably because I wasn't. I came here for you."

"What are you talking about, cuz?"

"Can you stop saying that, actually?"

"What?"

"'Cuz.' It just seems like you're really awkwardly trying to sound black."

"Whhaat?"

Gal Gadot walks outside.

"Hey! What are you guys doing out here? You gotta come inside, you won't believe who just showed up!" she says.

"I know, I'm flattered but I just stopped by to - " Keanu begins.

"What's up, Gadot?" Paul leaves Keanu immediately and follows Gal Gadot back inside. Keanu follows, showing slight frustration. Back inside, Lady GaGa's ARTPOP is blaring as the lights have come down. Specifically, Track 5. Blue and green lasers dance around the white interior of the living room. Keanu tries to talk to Paul again.

"I really liked your work in Boiler Room" he says.

"What?" Paul can't hear over the music.

"BOILER ROOM!"

"Haha! That was Vin, man. I was in like, Takers and that hockey puck movie."

"Which one?" The two men approach Gal Gadot who is talking to someone actually wearing an entire Mitsubishi Eclipse.

"All the trailers had me like, getting a hockey puck in the face or something."

"Running Scared," The car says.

"Whoa - are you Lady GaGa?!" asks Paul. Out of the hood pops out a glamorously dressed Lady GaGa.

"That's right, baby!" she exclaims. The crowd cheers. "Nice to meet you, Paul, I love your movies!"

"Really?" he asks skeptically.

"No, not really. I'm going to talk to Gal Gadot now," she turns to Gadot. "So, how'd that audition go?"

"I'm not sure, they said I was too skinny," Gadot says.

"That's bullshit," says GaGa. Paul looks dejected but walks to the bar. Keanu follows him and whispers something in his ear.

"Hey, that's Hollywood, right," says Gadot.

"That was a big part, though, right?"

"Yeah, it probably would have been a game changer."

"Your time will come. I mean, you're in like, two of the better Fast movies or whatever, right, and what else?"

"I don't know," admits Gadot. "Hey, where did Paul go? It's his house."

"It's the night before Thanksgiving in L.A., honey - who knows where any of us will end up! I just hope he doesn't take what I said about his movies too seriously and does something really crazy! I mean, the third one was good. He was in the third one, right?"

Paul walks outside with Keanu's arm around his shoulder.

"The only way I do this is if I get to pick the driver," Paul says.

"Okay, Paul, who did you have in mind?" Keanu replies.

"This dude I grew up with in Barstow."

"Who's that?"

"Nelson Mandela."

NOVEMBER 29 2013 JOHANNESBURG 06:28 SAST

Paul and Keanu are the only white people sitting in stands watching a demolition derby in a pit below them. Metal smershes and cars collide as the crowds cheer.

"Rough flight, dude," Keanu remarks.

"I know, we totally missed Thanksgiving, cuz." Keanu gives Paul a look of annoyance. The crowd starts revving up even louder than the engines as one driver literally rams another car up into the stands.

"Jeepers creepers it's like District 9 around here. That's your boy in the Monte Carlo?" asks Keanu.

"Yeah that's him." The driver rams another car. "Yeah, he's got some skills. And he's crazy as hell, I'm tellin you." Keanu looks at him cock-eyed. "In a good way, though, he's the man for the job." Another car hits him, cracking his windshield. Mandela kicks it out.

"He's got quite a record - 27 years upstate?" says Keanu. "Wait, it says here he's under house arrest right now, can't go more than 100 yards away from his home. Wait, that doesn't make sense, Mandela was freed, that was, you know...that was a whole thing."

"Shows how much you know," says Paul. Mandela smashes into another car and gives the driver the finger. "Mandela loves to party." With another crash Mandela has secured victory. The announcer crowns him the champion and he emerges to screaming fans, panties and roses being tossed at him. Mandela's smile vanishes, though, when he spies Paul Walker in the crowd. Sullen, he walks away to his mobile home, ankle monitor ticking away. Paul and Keanu climb down and follow him.

"Yo Nelson! Nelson Mandela!" Paul shouts. Mandela ignores him. "Yo, whatever happens next, just go with it," Paul says to Keanu. Paul then whistles to Mandela and shouts "Yo! Madiba!" Mandela stops in his tracks.

"Only my homeboys call me Madiba. Pig," he says. Around him, people chant "Madiba! Madiba!" Mandela relents, "And yes, I guess those guys do, too."

"I'm not a cop anymore, bro," says Paul.

"Is that true?" Mandela asks Keanu.

"I'm not sure that was ever true. Were you a cop once, Paul Walker?" Paul and Mandela start scuffling in the sand and throwing punches. Keanu slowly walks away awkwardly.

"You still fight like shit!" says Paul.

"What are you doing here, Paul Walker?" guffles Mandela.

"I'ma choke you!" Paul reaches his hand towards Mandela's neck. Mandela keeps punching his side.

"Twenty-seven years I did! Where were you?" he screams.

"Just...wait, how old is Paul Walker?" says Keanu, bemused.

"It wasn't my fault!" Paul finally pushes Mandela off him. "It wasn't my fault, bro. Listen, I - we need you. Something of your specialty. It's apartheid, man. We need you to stop apartheid."

"I did that like...twenty years ago," says Mandela.

"It's back," says Paul.

"It will be," says Keanu. "In the future, worldwide racism is institutionalized and strictly enforced. We don't know who is to blame, but we know the instigator of the second apartheid was involved in underground street races on a global scale. Nelson Mandela...buhbie - we need you now more than ever."

Mandela looks at these two white boys long and hard. "More than anyone I know the evils of apartheid well. If what you say is true, I must act. There is a race in Johannesburg across town in a few hours. I can get us in because hey, these people love me. We can start looking there."

"Okay, but remember - if we don't succeed by November 30, 3:30 pm pacific time - we're all donezo," says Keanu.

"No problem," says Paul.

MAY 25 2043 LOS ANGELES 10:15 PST

"Are we going to be okay?" Jordanna Brewster asks Michetty. The girls are digging through their street racing archives looking for clues.

"I don't know. Keep looking for any clues you can find. Anything that can help us figure out who started all this shit," Michetty replies.

"Do you think that Fast 23 would have been better if Paul Walker was in it?"

"When did that one come out, again?"

"2018."

"Oh yeah. I don't know, I think Justin was a fine replacement." Michetty looks longingly at a faded framed picture of Justin Bieber on the wall.

"Well, obviously you can't compare him to the greatest action star of all time. Hey!" Suddenly Jordanna Brewster finds something - she picks up an old photo. "Look at this?!" Michetty rushes over and looks over Jordanna's shoulder.

"We need to show this to Vin. I mean...Dom."

In the central room, Dom sits on his thrown, unable to hide a significant erection.

"Hey Dom - ugh, come on, man," says Michetty.

"This doesn't feel at home yet?" Dom asks.

"No...you idiot. Check this out." Michetty shows him the picture. Dom studies it intently.

"What does this mean?" From the shadows, Bishop emerges.

"Excuse me, I believe I may be of assistance..." Bishop says.

"Where-what the hell, where do you people keep coming from?" Michetty asks.

"I...I mean, I've just been here. Just because you didn't say hi-" Bishop begins.

"Alright, shut up - what are you thinking?"

"I know that man. I can go back and warn Paul and Keanu. That's our guy, no doubt."

"Bishop, I don't ask this of you lightly-" says Dom.

"You never do, sir." says Bishop.

"Good luck." Says Michetty. They all pause for a sec.

"Wait, so now, Bishop wasn't even born so we can't send his mind back, how are going to - I mean, is this like a Denzel Déjà vu thing where we can just send the picture back or...what?" Mia asks. Everyone looks at each other.

"Uh, I don't know, it's the future, we'll figure something out," says Dom.

NOVEMBER 29 2013 JOHANNESBURG 09:08 SAST

Hundreds of South Africans crowd the streets of Johannesburg. They're gushing over a dozen high-end racing vehicles that are about to tear through the city streets. Rivals rev their engines in intimidation and a continuous dubstep beat nearly drones out the steady hum of vuvuzelas. Mandela, Keanu, and Paul Walker pull up in their own rides. Keanu drives a 2005 Mazda RX-7 F3DS while Mandela and Paul Walker are rocking a 2000 Nissan Silvia S15. They are immediately given stink eyes by everyone around them.

"I thought they loved you here," says Keanu.

"They do, but see that guy there," Mandela motions to a large, muscular balding white man with tattoos who looks like he just emerged from Mad Max's apocalyptic wasteland. "He don't like me."

"Because of your progress against apartheid?" asks Paul.

"No, I just ran over his dog in the last race," Mandela answers. "While beating him." The man walks up them.

"You got some nerve coming back here, old man," says the man. "You stole my title from me."

"I mean no disrespect to you, Larry," says Mandela.

"That's not my name," Larry turns to the crowd. "WHAT IS MY NAME?"

"DRIFT KING!" The crowd erupts and begins to laugh at our boys.

"Did we seriously find the one part in South Africa who hates Nelson Mandela?" asks Keanu.

"Yeah, the white part," Paul replies.

"That's a little harsh, I have many supporters in a nation united by - " Mandela begins.

"I am DK. Now I'm going to DK Punch your ass, Madiba-motherfucker!" Larry gets in Mandela's face, brow to brow. "Get in the damn car." Keanu intervenes.

"Hey, back off, bro!" He pushes Larry, who backs into a spectator holding a large slush puppy. It spills blue all over Larry's white shirt. Larry is now as pissed as the side of Paul Walker's house last night.

"You're next, fucker," he points at Keanu.

"Whatever," Keanu adjusts his collar. Paul hops in the Nissan in the left-hand passenger seat next to Mandela. Keanu in his Mazda revs the engine and grips the wheel. He looks to his right and sees Larry giving him...yes, it is the look of death. Mandela looks to his right and checks on Keanu. Paul glances to the left and sees the fourth racer, Takashi.

"Yeah, I'm here too, asshole!" Takashi shouts to him. Mandela reaches his hand out the window and fist-bumps Keanu. A surprisingly busty Japanese girl walks out carrying a flag to start the race.

"Hey, why are we doing this in daylight, anyway? Won't we get busted?" Paul asks Mandela.

"No one really gives a shit," Mandela replies. The woman points to another busy Japanese girl to her left.

"READY?!" she says. The starter points to her right.

"SETTO?!" that woman shouts.

"Chosen one my ass..." Larry mutters.

"Where are we?" asks Paul.

"GO!" the starter waves her hands up. The race is on. The cars dart and weave through downtown Johannesburg, kicking up dust and disturbing everyone who is just trying to get on with their normal day. Larry pulls to an early lead, followed by Mandela, Keanu, and Takashi. They drift through a construction site, weaving in between half-built beams and huge cement blocks. The lead changes and with some quick maneuvering, Keanu pulls in front. Larry eyes a handgun on his passenger seat.

They move back on to the streets and fly through a wide tunnel, darting in between normal traffic. They look like a fucking DNA Helix, man, this is cool. Larry rams the back of Mandela's car and his head jerks back and forth. Takashi also tries to ram him and get his Ben-Hur on, but Mandela is quicker than that. He pulls his wheel hard and shakes Takashi off. Suddenly he's unable to swerve away from an incoming Eclipse and amidst profanity after profanity, crashes head-on. An SUV strikes the pile, clogging the lane, which ends up being the worst crash in Johannesburg tunnel history. Through the chaos, Larry surges ahead, smiling at Mandela.

Mandela is pissed now. The three remaining cars soar back into the heart of downtown Johannesburg, flying like big metal bullets underneath the steady neon glow. Keanu surges ahead, but sees Larry knocking Mandela around in his rearview mirror. Keanu slams on his breaks, disturbing Larry's course and allowing Mandela to get free. A huge crowd is milling about up ahead. With a litany of honks from Mandela, they part like Moses and the three speedsters drift around the 90° turn.

The turn causes some havoc, though. With so much momentum, the cars start spinning around, and suddenly, with Larry ahead and his car facing the wrong direction, he starts shooting at his nearest competitor - Keanu Reeves. Mandela tries to help, but he finally makes a mistake and gets clipped by a passing Elantra. He spins around and ends up crashing.

Keanu and Larry are now headlight to headlight with Larry busting out caps in Keanu's windshield. Finally, Larry whips his wheel around which allows Keanu by, but like the Bugs Bunny-style Matadors of old, this is merely a red cape to send him flying into danger, in this case, not an anvil, but a Mercedes S Class, which clips over Keanu and his Mazda. Mandela stands in disbelief. Gasoline starts dripping out, inching closer to a small fire in the underbelly. Keanu, bloodied but otherwise unharmed, looks up to him and Paul.

"We gotta get him out of there! In thirty seconds that fire's going to hit the nitrous and then - " before Paul can finish, the car explodes. Nelson walks slowly towards the car, but Paul pulls him back. Larry drives by and gives them the finger. Sirens follow him and soon he's being led away in handcuffs as Mandela and Paul watch.

"Man, what is this bullshit?" He protests.

"You tried to kill Nelson Mandela," the cop says.

"We gotta move, bro," says Paul. Mandela is shaken up but agrees. After all, it's a long flight back to LAX.

NOVEMBER 29 2013 LOS ANGELES 19:00 PST

The desert air is crisp and dark. A small bit of blue light flashes near the ground and lightning streaks and crackles from its center. A curious lizard is fried up to death. It grows more thunderous as a bubble appears and melts the ground underneath. More blue lightning erupts, as if from the fingers of Palpatine himself. One bolt connects with a saguaro, setting it ablaze. The bubble dissipates and crouching on the burning ground stands Bishop, naked and glorious, dreadlocks dangling across his shoulders. He rises to his feet, looks around and walks off, the sandy ground, now turned to glass, being crushed beneath his steps.

NOVEMBER 29 2013 LOS ANGELES 21:33 PST

Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela walk into a bar. No, this is not the setup to a joke. Well, it is sort of. They grab a pair of Coronas and sit at a private booth that is magically not taken at this very crowded upscale L.A. bar on a Friday night. They slump down and nearly finish their brews in one sip.

"Where do we go from here, man?" says Mandela. "What do we have left? No clues, no nothing."

"Well, Larry did leave this mysterious ring behind at the crime scene. It could be indicative of membership in a secret society. It's got the Eye of Providence with a swastika in the middle there. No, this is a dead end." Paul puts the ring on a drink tray carried by a waitress clearing drinks. "It's got to be Braga. Only he has the connections to do this. Plus he's had it in for me ever since I sent him upstate."

"But...wait, no one has a vendetta against - " Mandela begins.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, may I have a word?" Paul and Mandela look up to see Bishop, dressed in futuristic techno-clothing, huge plasma rifles, and an ascot. An "M" is tattooed over his eye. "You are Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela, are you not?"

"That depends - are you working for Braga? Take us to him. We'll audition to be in his crew," Paul begins.

"No. What? Hey - where is Keanu?" Bishop asks.

"He fell into darkness," says Mandela.

"Then my mission is even more vital. You are trying to find the one responsible for the return of apartheid. In the future, we believe it to be this man." Bishop places a photograph on the table in front of Paul and Mandela. It features a bearded, shark-like man screaming in one car, and three other cars without drivers. "This photo was taken from a street race in New Orleans - tonight."

"No, no, that can't be right. That's Michael Fassbender. Yeah, we worked together on Hunger," says Paul.

"You weren't in Hunger, man," says Mandela.

"But if I was, we would have worked together. And he is like, the classiest dude in Hollywood, he isn't responsible for the return of apartheid," says Paul.

"Maybe we should ask the man who knows him best. Steve McQueen," says Mandela.

"Didn't he die like...what, thirty years before this time?" asks Bishop.

"Not Steve McQueen the honkie - Steve McQueen the big fat black British director," says Mandela.

"Yeah, I worked with him on Eight Below," says Paul.

"Man, what are you snorting?" says Bishop. Mandela picks his head up from line on the table, nose covered in white powder.

"Coke," spouts an exasperated Mandela.

"Listen, we need to find Steve McQueen, and the clocks is ticking!" Bishop stands to leave.

"Hello?" Steve McQueen turns around. "Did someone say my name?"

"Why is Michael Fassbender reigniting apartheid?" shouts Bishop.

"Tell us where Braga is!" shouts Paul.

"I'll take four jaeger bombs," Mandela tells a waitress. "And...one for yourself, sweetheart."

"I was afraid this would happen. Ever since we completed filming 12 Years a Slave Mike's been a little confused. See, he's a method actor, and he's gotten a little too far into some of his roles. He's essentially combined his slave owner Epps character from my movie with his Magneto character from the X-Men movies," Steve explains.

"That's fucked up," says Mandela after downing his jaeger bomb.

"And then he gained actual Magneto powers!" says Steve.

"He...wait he what now?" says Paul.

"He's been holding up on a plantation outside of New Orleans," says Steve. "But he's not going to let us anywhere near him."

"So what do we do?" asks Bishop.

"We party!" says Lady GaGa. The men stare at her. "What? It's a popular bar." Mandela orders another round of shots and things start getting cray cray. GaGa makes out with Paul Walker. Mandela fires Bishop's plasma rifle in the alleyway behind the bar. Steve McQueen quietly goes home. Everyone else ends up drag racing in cop cars down Santa Monica Boulevard. They wake up at Paul Walker's house.

NOVEMBER 30 2013 LOS ANGELES 8:02 PST

GaGa and Bishop are eating a gorgeous breakfast spread of French toast, eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausage, oranges, and cranberry juice. It's a nice greasy hangover cure.

"So what about this - " GaGa begins, "I play a character attempting to get into the mandingo fighting business. Mandela is my free man One-Eyed Charley adviser and you're the prized mandingo I already have. We make him an offer to buy his third-best mandingo so ridiculous that he has to take notice."

"I ain't no mandingo, honey," says Bishop. "Who does Paul play?"

"Who?" GaGa asks.

"What are we talking about?" Paul Walker slumps into the room.

"Well, this girl's best idea to get into Fassbender's fake plantation is to disguise ourselves as people trying to get into the mandingo fighting business," says Bishop.

"It's risky but we must take risks to preserve our nation," says Mandela as he barfs into a potted plant. "I believe in all of you. We must take this great undertaking if we are to succeed in the face of evil." A prostitute walks by. "The money is on the corner, doll." She takes it and leaves.

"I'm with the right Mandela, right?" Bishop asks.

"Yeah you are!" GaGa winks at the old man.

"Let's get our asses to New Orleans!" Paul Walker rallies the troops and they depart.

NOVEMBER 30 2013 NEW ORLEANS 1:57 CST

A crew consisting of Paul Walker, Nelson Mandela, Lady GaGa, and the X-Man Bishop walk down a long dirt road to an old plantation located northwest of the City of New Orleans. Bishop is dressed in rags that conceal two large plasma rifles. Mandela wears a faded green overcoat with a cowboy hat slightly turned down, with sunglasses. Paul Walker wears a long grey coat and matching pants. They both conceal plastic guns with rubber bullets. GaGa wears whatever she wants to. Probably bubbles or meat or something. GaGa is on the phone with someone.

"Congratulations!" she begins. "But I can't really talk now, I'm in New Orleans," she pauses. "Trying to end racism," she answers. "Yeah cool, you know, if you can." A black overseer greets them at a gate.

"Hey man, this is some bullshit, I just came down for a Saints game. Now I'm fucking enslaved, it's ridiculous."

"Don't worry, we'll - " Paul begins.

"We are mandingo trainers, and this is my time-traveling mandingo fighter, Bishop. We wish to speak with your Master." Mandela interrupts.

"He's back there a ways. Hey, aren't you Paul Walker?"

"Put it on the downlow, cuz," says Paul. The gang walks past the gate and up to the steps of the luxurious white plantation mansion. Around the plantation, African-Americans hover around with metal chains around their necks. Out strides Michael Fassbender, replete with the thick beard and loose fitting sweaty clothes from 12 Years a Slave as well as the purple cape and Magneto helmet from X-Men: First Class. Aside him is actress Lupita Nyong'o, looking distressed.

"Greetings, Master Epps! We come here with intent of purchasing one of your mandingo fighters! Perhaps not your first best, not your second best, but surely we may look at your third best fighter. See, we are looking to get into the mandingo game, we have Bishop here, who is - " Mandela says.

"You're fucking Nelson Mandela," says Fassbender. His house windows shatter as dozens of floating guns emerge and start firing. The gang ducks behind any cover they can find - GaGa behind a hay bale, Bishop behind a shed, and Paul and Mandela behind a donkey cart.

"Fuck! What kind of plan was that?" shouts Paul as he tries to fire rubber bullets at Fassbender.

"This reminds me of the time I first snorted coke off a prostitutes’ boobs," says Nelson Mandela.

"What?" Paul asks with a disturbed look.

"I have a full-on erection right now!" says Mandela amidst the firefight. Bishop emerges from the shed and showers Fassbender in plasma. Fassbender soars through the air to avoid it, then throws a car at Bishop, who barely dodges out of the fiery explosion that obviously ensues. Bishop joins Paul and Mandela behind the donkey cart.

GaGa stands up and starts slingshotting chestnuts at Fassbender. "I'm going to aim for his dick!" She screams to the boys. It's a direct hit. Fassbender bends over in pain momentarily, but with a lift of his hand, two huge razors emerge from the cotton fields and start spinning.

"Let's see how much you like your heads...when they're off!" He screams the worst killing line ever. The razors start spinning and then zoom towards our heroes. They're shit out of luck. As the razors fly at the group, they each dart and roll out of the way. Fassbender floats towards Paul and ensnares him in a metal chain.

"How can you side with these people? You're so weak. Just like Keanu..." Fassbender snears.

"What?" Paul gasps.

"You didn't know how much I love Mercedes? And he screamed like a bitch....now watch your nigger friends die-"

Just when things seem really shitty and racist, out of the sky lands Gal Gadot, dressed as Wonder Woman, who smashes the razors and breaks Paul's chains. She then deflects some bullets fired by Fassbender with her, I don't know, are they adamantium bracelets? No, that can't be right. That's a whole other comic universe. What's the strong DC Metal? Well, let's just call them adamantium, because who cares, it's just fiction.

"Damn that girl got here fast!" says GaGa.

"I'm fucking Wonder Woman!" says Gadot as she flies towards Fassbender. He stops her, controlling the adamantium bracelets.

"Patsey, fetch me my whip..." he tells Lupita.

"Dammit, Mike, my name is Lupita Nyong'o, what is the matter with you?" says Lupita.

"Get me my whip, nigger!" he screams.

"Ah, hell no, I'm done," Lupita walks away.

"PATSEY!" While Fassbender is distracted, Gadot uppercuts him so hard that he can high-five Sandra Bullock.

"Is everyone alright? We don't have a ton of time before he falls back down," says Gadot.

"Did he say nigger? That's not really cool," says Nelson Mandela.

"Word, cuz," says Paul Walker. They here a thud in a field and a large cloud of dust races towards the group. A car engine starts and Fassbender, behind the wheel of a Flip Car blasts through the group, flipping everyone out of his way.

"Fuck," says Bishop. "How do we pursue?"

"To the barn!" Mandela yells. They all follow him to a large, dilapidated wooden barn, where he tears the doors open. "Back in the 60s, man, no one had cars in my neighborhood. We raced organically." Before the gang are a team of horses.

"Alright, word. I'm gonna ride this one - it says his name is Shadowfax, the Lord of all Horses," says Paul Walker, pointing to a sign decreeing the horses' names. The horse he thinks is Shadowfax is jet black. The only remaining horse is white.

"I'm not sure that's Shadowfax, man," says Bishop.

"Sure it is, cuz, grab your mount and let's ride yo," says Paul.

"Okay I guess I'll take the other one...Blackie," says Bishop.

"Are you sure you want that one, Nel?" GaGa asks. Mandela is petting a Springbok Gazelle.

"We must unite our nation," says Mandela. "Are you sure you want that one?" GaGa mounts a full grown Canadien Moose.

"Oh yeah," she says.

"Don't worry about me," says Gadot, "I've got an anti-magnetic invisible jet. I think. I...I forgot where I parked that thing. I'll catch up."

"You're not the strongest one of us or anything, so I'm sure that will be fine," mocks Bishop. Before they leave, Mandela hands Paul a bag.

"You'll need this," he intones. "For Keanu."

The entire barn explodes, and out races Paul on "Shadowfax," Bishop on "Blackie," Mandela on the Springbok, and GaGa on the moose. They quickly catch up to Fassbender somehow. He flicks them off and continues to make racial slurs.

By this time they hit downtown New Orleans. They whiz past the Superdome on Poydras Street, manage to weave in and out of generally disinterested police cruisers and make a hard left on to Rampart, where Mandela nearly careens into Drew Brees, startling his gazelle. GaGa's moose stops because, c'mon, a moose can't race like this. Blackie becomes sexually attracted to a police horse. As Fassbender flips cars on Canal Street, he hits the nitrous and zooms away.

Paul then takes out the bag he got from Mandela, in big words, "Mandela's Coke" is written on the side. He attaches it like a feedbag and starts to coke out the animal. It starts running faster and faster, as its eyes become bloodshot and crazy. Fassbender looks back in disbelief.

Finally, the horse explodes, sending Paul Walker through the air towards Fassbender's car. Paul punches through his driverside window, punching him in the face. As Paul tumbles on the ground, Fassbender spins out and runs into a Lady Foot Locker. You know the one, on the corner of Canal and Carondelet. Yeah, that shit gets smashed up. Seeing his friend in trouble, Mandela implores Drew Brees to throw him to the scene, which he does, impeccably and without question.

Fassbender collects himself and while still in the driver seat is able to regain his old self.

"Holy shit...what have I done?" he puts his head in his hands, "I must make this right -" As he is about to get out of the car, Mandela approaches his window and holds a gun to his head.

"For the cool wind over the mountains." Mandela fires, killing Michael Fassbender. As police begin to finally gather, GaGa and Bishop are sitting in the back of an ambulance with those emergency blankets to keep them warm I guess. I mean, it is New Orleans, it's like 85° out with 70% humidity, they don't really need it. Needless to say, they start making out with passion normally reserved for Lars von Trier films. Somewhere off in the distance, R. Kelly starts singing.

"You did it, son," Mandela puts his arm around a groggy Paul Walker.

"Now that's what I call....betting on the dark horse." Paul puts on a pair of aviators.

EPILOGUE

Bishop impregnated Lady GaGa, then fled back to the future. GaGa was initially upset, but glad for the "Time Travel Baby" theme she could implement for her fourth studio album. That baby eventually grew up to become Bishop, meaning that he is own father.

Despite never finding the expensive invisible jet that Warner Bros loaned her, Gal Gadot did play Wonder Woman in a movie where an alien wearing blue tights fought Ben Affleck. It was okay, but not nearly as good as The Fast & Furious: Tokyo Drift.

Steve McQueen became the first black man to win the Best Director Oscar at the 2014 Academy Awards. Michael Fassbender eventually healed from the wounds inflicted on him by Nelson Mandela. He apologized for abusing his Magneto Powers and eventually won an MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss with Ian McKellan. Days of Future Past was weird.

Lupita Nyong'o recovered from her time spent on the insane Fassbender's fake plantation. She eventually authored a bestselling book based on her real-life experience re-experiencing the delusions of a man based on experiences on a movie set which was based on a book. She was proud of how full-circle that was. No other legal action was taken on behalf of all of the other African-Americans enslaved on the fake plantation.

Vin Diesel never voiced another Iron Giant movie, but he did make fourteen more Fast sequels. Michelle Rodriguez eventually finally found an acting niche playing tough Latina-military types. Who knew she had it in her?

Jordanna Brewster eventually turned to directing, and became the second woman to win a Best Director Oscar in 2032 for A Clocktwerk Orange: The Life and Times of Miley Cyrus. It became the highest grossing film of all time.

Keanu Reeves made 47 Ronin in 2013. Each of the four people who saw it said it was pretty good.

Brian Tee was actually in The Wolverine, I didn't think that was too bad. For the purposes of this joke, Larry is a fictional character.

The City of New Orleans was hit by another devastating hurricane in 2015. The town would have faced utter ruin had not Drew Brees reinforced the levees with gallon upon gallon of his own semen. They held.

Paul Walker died shortly after returning to Valencia, California on his way to a charity event at 3:30 pm PST on November 30th, 2013. The world is lesser without him.

Nelson Mandela died on December 5th, 2013 from a cocaine overdose. He was surrounded by friends and family at the time of his passing at his Houghton Estate. His funeral was attended by hundreds of heads of state with a hilariously low level of security. Although officially denied, it is widely rumoured that he requested Don Omar to play as he lay in state.

~The End~

wienening

the boobening was first

now the wienening

Lowcountry IX: The Epilogue as Told by Det. Otto Schnelppvort

Part IX:

03 October 1982

"You broke my heart, Randy! And that Act of Doucheyness can never be forgiven! You may have the Power of the Gods, but I made you, and I can unmake you! I hold my own debt unforgiven. May I sleep in Udun."

The sky cleared and the Sun rose. Strange, because it was something like 4 am by that time. Randy's bandages fell off and colour returned to his skin. I grabbed Hans' rifle and nailed him between the eyes. His corpse fell off the roof.

"Prick," I said.

Traci ran right to Nefrina. It was kind of weird, I expected her to still be goo goo for pasty over there. I suppose Fred just kind of passed on, but Nefrina went to Hell for us. That's deep, honey. Traci had the bright idea to talk to Imhotep.

"Is there a chance she can still be saved? Her soul I mean," she asked him. The Frankensteins were still milling around, they didn't know what to do with themselves. I went to Victor, he was holding Elizabeth, both pretty shooken up.

"Victor. I think somehow I can call you my friend," I told him.

"You as well, Otto. I never wanted to do what Henry did to you," He replied.

"I know. Listen, you got to get these guys out of here. You don't belong here. You can find your peace back at Bran. No more killings, no more abominations. No more testing God."

"You're right, Otto. I'll take us back. Maybe we can one day yet redeem ourselves." He turned and gathered what remained, couldn't have been more than half the monsters they came with and left in the darkness back to the woods. I'm not sure if he ever made it back to the Castle. I hope so.

There were hardly any Mummies left. They all just stared at Imhotep and Traci holding Nefrina's body.

"Queen Tera," Imhotep said. The only female Mummy perked her head. "You are in charge now. If there is anyone left to follow you. I do not wish to see any of you either again." The Mummies didn't say a word but they followed Tera back up to the Mountains. Imhotep turned to us. "Come with me."

He took us to the Frankenstein's Lair. He placed Nefrina's body up on the slab.

"What are we doing here?" Traci asked.

"I can locate her soul but it's not going to do us any good to bring her back to a dead body." Imhotep started sprinkling this weird dust and clearing space for some kind of ritual. He took Henry's Ankh out of her chest and rested his own from his staff. "We bring her back as a Frankenstein. For a moment she will live and in that moment I can forgive her and she will pass on to Heaven."

"Only for a moment?" I asked.

"She is a Mummy, Otto. This body will not sustain life on its own for more than a second."

"Could we bring Fred back, too?" Traci asked.

"I'm afraid my dear," Imhotep began, "that as a Frankenstein Fred had no soul to find. He was just a shell. A Mummy is more like a soul bound to Earth. It's all we still are. We cannot pass on. We could give Fred a new heart but when we bring him back he'll just be a Frankenstein, with no memories or dreams." Traci looked at the ground as a tear ran down her cheek. Imhotep just kept attaching Nefrina to the machine.

"So then if Frankensteins have no souls, how will we get this one to get Nefrinas?" I asked him.

"We do what no Frankenstein has ever done during this process." He flipped some switches and a bolt of electricity sparked on. "We pray." The sky grew dark and Imhotep bowed his head. Traci held Nefrina's hand. Lightning flashed overhead and Imhotep channeled it into Nefrina's body. She suddenly woke up and squeezed Traci's hand, then passed back out on the slab, unable to sustain life as Imhotep said she would.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"I don't know," Traci said. I turned to Imhotep, his head was still bowed, muttering to himself.

"Padre?"

He turned and left the room without saying a thing.

Sometimes that's just how it ends in Lowcountry.

Go Broncos.

Lowcountry VIII: The Battles of Nefrina of the Lagids

Part VIII:

02 October 1982

I thought it was going to be cool to have another Mummy in school with me. I've made some friends but there's always some difference when they go home to dinner with their parents and I go home to a Cursed Cave under the Mountains. It's just hard to relate. Anyway, Randy hasn't really made things any easier. I want him to care so much but it escapes him. He's hung up on Traci Lorraine. Such a jerk-off.

Traci is this really weird girl, I always thought she looked like a rat. She spaces out in class all the time, I was her lab partner in like 10th Grade and I had to do all the work, it was bogus. I don't know what Randy sees in her. Ugh he sucks. Great body though.

So of course I was excited when Traci decided to break things off with him and go out with that Frankenstein kid. Randy and I are going to homecoming now as just friends but some 3,000 year old wine I stole from Nesperennub will change that! Maybe. That wasn't what happened though.

My stupid family ruined everything. And those stupid Frankensteins. Me and Randy didn't even get into the dance - all these green things jumped us in the parking lot. Fred and Traci showed up late, she was pulling at him to stop. I suppose we have something in common actually. There must have been five or six of them, we fended them off for a while until Kharis and Nesyamun showed up. Could they be more embarassing?! After Kharis was able to decapitate the one called Margaret and someone else they called Jerry, I think he was valuable. The rest of them stumbled off into the darkness but Randy gave chase. I ran behind him. A woman screamed.

I caught up and saw that Randy had this Frankenstein on the ground, her leg was impaled on a log, blood oozing everywhere. These things are so gross! She said her name was Justine and she wanted to make a deal.

"Stop this! I can give you everything!"

"Why?" Randy lifted his hand as sand gathered around him.

"I loved him, alright? I loved Henry Frankenstein. He...he abandoned me. For that bitch who he doesn't even love, she gives nothing to him. They all deserve to burn for his sins! Let me give them up, I can help! I can be like you!"

"No you can't." Randy used the sand to suffocate her, then smashed her face with the log. I stood there shocked. Kharis emerged from the woods.

"Who are you, boy?" he asked looking at the corpse.

"Randy Snarfle. I'm the most powerful Mummy there is."

Kharis laughed. He laughed! That old guy never laughs! "I like your spirit, boy. And your War Strategy. We'll find them. No prisoners, no deserters. Come, we have much to do." He took him on his wing and they blew off into the winds. Just like that. Not even a goodbye. I stood there like an idiot. Fred and Traci crept out of the darkness. I guess they had been scattered pretty good. Traci couldn't bear to look at Justine. Fred growled. Another Frankenstein quickly loped to us.

"Fred! Don't worry, it's Hans" He said as he grabbed Traci's boy. "Come, we must flee quickly!" Traci turned to leave as well. "No! No mortals!" Fred moaned and they walked off slowly together. That left me and that bitch Traci. I could understand Fred abandoning her. She was nothing. How could Randy and Kharis leave me?!

We walked back to the dance together. You know, for some punch or something. It sucked. I didn't really know anyone at this High School. As soon as we walked in though Traci ran up to this weird old guy wearing a Denver Broncos hat. I figured he was a teacher or something. He and Traci kept looking at me and murmuring. I don't like that. I walked straight up to them.

"What do you people want with me?!"

"Nefrina? Traci here said that's your name?" This dude asked me. "I'm sure you're familiar with me. I'm Otto Schnelppvort." Holy shit! This was the guy we've been after for like, years and years! "This is ending tonight. Can we count you on our side?"

"What side is that? Are you Frankenstein or Mummy?"

"We're on our own damn side," he said. "The side that isn't interested in murder or curses. The side that just wants these creepy bastards out of our town."

"Well, am I one of those bastards?"

"Not if you join us," Traci said. She smiled. I didn't know what this cunt was doing. But I didn't have a place with the Mummies for some reason. And I certainly wasn't about to join those gross Frankensteins.

"Fine," I said. "What do I have to do?"