The Anti-Venom Saga

Not ten minutes after Marley and I arrived in Atlantic City, the biggest bomb of the day has been dropped on me.

“Ah, that look on your face says everything. So you finally remember who I am, Calvin?”

Vulcanus the Incinerator has returned, and now he’s apparently a goddamn demon.

“Fucking Vulcanus. I should have been more specific when I used the Stone against you.”

He holds up a hand.

“First of all, I no longer use the name Vulcanus the Incinerator. I simply wanted you to know who you’re really dealing with, and I knew you wouldn’t recognize me with my new look. This guise isn’t needed anymore.”

He shifts back to his demonic appearance, his horns and wings returning.

“And yes, you’ve probably figured out that one of the Stones of Octavo was my source of power, so without that Stone, there is no Vulcanus.”

Marley glares up at him.

“Su wut du yu caww yu-sewf nao?”

Vulcanus sneers down at Marley.

“The name I used so long ago, before I found my precious Stone: Pumyz.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Pumyz? That sounds like a… a Silicoid name… so you were a Silicoid all along, huh?”

Vulcanus-- er, Pumyz nods.

“Yes. The Silicoid race has existed for THAT long. My origins were lost to time, and not even my fellow Silicoids remember that the greatest threat to the universe was originally one of their own.”

“So how did you find the Stone and become Vulcanus?”

He chuckles the signature Silicoid chuckle, that sounds like a small landslide.

“You know, I don’t actually have to give you my life story, but I’ve never really had a chance to talk about my past with anyone before. Very well, I will oblige. You see, long, long, LONG ago, Silics used to be an incredibly lush planet. It was once so much more beautiful than the drab little rock it is now.”

He waves a hand, the burning casino around us seeming to vanish, and now we appear to be in a city on Silics, but not as I’ve ever seen it.

I’ve never seen Silics with so much greenery. He wasn’t lying about how beautiful it was.

We can see Silicoids going about their business, no faces that I recognize, but they seem happy enough.

So this is clearly Silics back in Pumyz’s day.

I don’t know how he’s doing this, I think it might be an illusion of some kind.

“But then, Silics started getting colder, and an endless winter began.”

Clouds quickly gather overhead, and a howling blizzard covers everything with snow in seconds, as well as everyone except me, Marley and Pumyz.

“At first, it seemed to be a boon to the people of Silics. The Silicoids’ silicon brains operate much more efficiently in colder climates, so as the temperature dropped, the Silicoids only got smarter. They thought it was the beginning of a golden age for the Silicoid race. But as the planet got colder and colder…”

We see cracks forming on the Silicoids’ rocky bodies, and they start writhing in pain.

“…what was quickly dubbed the Crackling began to afflict the Silicoids. There are temperatures so low that not even the Silicoids can survive, and by that point, they were more than smart enough to comprehend what was happening to them, and their planet.”

Then we see the Silicoids’ bodies freezing up and breaking apart around us, screaming in agony as they die in what must be a horrible way to die, the plant life around them shriveling away in the bitter, relentless cold.

“For all of their newfound intelligence, they were POWERLESS to stop the endless winter and the Crackling from wiping out all life on Silics, and they KNEW it. Everyone thought that would be the END of the Silicoid race. However, when the end was nigh, a brilliant scientist who was desperately working to resolve the crisis made a discovery that would change not only Silics forever, but the entire universe…”

When Pumyz waves his hand again, the scene changes to a snowy field, the blizzard still going on, a Silicoid who appears to be made of pumice and wearing a lab coat, sweater and scarf made of stonecloth kneeling down, looking at an orange, octagonal gemstone on the ground, the snow around it melting away.

“He happened to find one eighth of the strongest power in the universe, the power that everyone thought to be just a bedtime story. And when he touched that power, his heart and mind overwhelmed by the desire to bring warmth back to his world, his wish was granted… but as they say… be careful what you wish for.”

As the Silicoid scientist touches the gemstone…

FWOOSH

…everything erupts into flames, just like the real flames that should still be surrounding us.

Can everyone present see this, or just me and Marley?

“It was then that Vulcanus the Incinerator was born. I ended the endless winter, eliminated the threat of the Crackling, and in the process, inadvertently ensured that carbon-based life would NEVER thrive on Silics again. That… wasn’t intentional. I got… carried away.”

He waves his hand yet again, and the scenery changes back to the Silician city, looking much closer to how I know Silics.

Well, except for everything being charred black, and the burned remains of the plant life.

We see Vulcanus as he looked in life (and moments ago), surrounded by an angry crowd of Silicoids, most of them looking pretty scorched too.

Pumyz looks away from his past self and the crowd as he continues, and we can't see the expression on his face from where we're standing.

“My fellow Silicoids survived thanks to our silicon-based nature, but they were none too happy about the consequences of my efforts to save them. In saving the world, I had robbed it of its beauty. They branded me a criminal, banished me from Silics, and began to rebuild, striking my name from the record. But I feared that word of my deeds would spread across the universe regardless, that people would know how the endless winter ended. I would have enemies wherever I went. So I needed to hide, on a planet where no one would think to look for me.”

With another wave of his hand, the scene shifts to the depths of space, Vulcanus flying through the cosmic void like an asteroid, and Pumyz turns back to us, a frown on his face.

“As I made my journey to a safe refuge, my desire to bring warmth back to my planet had mutated into an urge to burn everything that grew stronger and stronger, the fire within me burned ever hotter, and I began to forget WHY I wanted to burn things. I forgot… how it all began. The power coursing through me was… intoxicating, and I had no distractions. Burning everything was all I could think about.”

Yet another wave, and we’re in a jungle on prehistoric Earth, Vulcanus making his descent from the stars, moments away from banishing the dinosaurs to Primal Earth.

“By the time I landed on a primitive, backwater planet with no higher forms of life, all I could remember was that burning everything was my purpose, my reason to exist.”

As the past Vulcanus lands, he unleashes a massive wave of destruction that engulfs everything, but me, Marley and Pumyz are unharmed, the wave just passing through us.

“When I landed, I burrowed deep underground, into the planet’s core, instinctively drawn to its sheer heat, only to realize too late that I had accidentally trapped myself there, and could not LEAVE the core. Even with all of my power, I couldn’t get out. I devised ways to work around that, but breaking my true self free would require the aid of someone else with significant power to call me up, so from there, I watched and waited…”

Suddenly, everything around us speeds up, millions of years of evolution and tectonic shift happening in fast forward.

“I hid inside the Earth for sixty-six million years, occasionally creating an avatar of myself and sending it up to the stars to sate my urge to burn, and to remind everyone in the universe that I was still alive… despite their best efforts. Even with only a FRACTION of my power, my avatars were still powerful enough to destroy worlds. You’ve seen and heard about some of the results of my handiwork.”

It’s mostly a big blur to us, but I’m sure I catch a glimpse of Victor at some point, holding a pair of laser rifles that have seen better days.

“Eventually, Pumyz was forgotten, and the universe knew me only as Vulcanus the Incinerator, the Unquenchable Flame, the Burner of Worlds…”

When time slows down to its usual pace, we see primitive humans hunting an equally primitive beast across the plains, the dawn of humanity.

Pumyz starts smiling again at this point.

“…and then YOUR kind came along, Calvin. When I sensed the massive potential hiding inside your species’ genome, I knew that your race would make for good protectors of the being slumbering inside your planet, that those pitiful hairless apes could produce someone powerful enough to free me. It wasn’t THAT hard to call your race’s dormant potential out with the power at my disposal. You know about my disastrous first attempt, the Empire of Ad Laun Dyz. And my SECOND attempt was going much better, at least… until I introduced myself to YOU. Of course, you know the rest of the story. You, the one meant to be my greatest protector, instead became the instrument of my undoing. In hindsight, letting that green fool be the sole survivor of his race was a mistake. At least his posthumous scheming took out the competition too.”

Pumyz waves his hand one more time, and we’re back in Atlantic City, outside Caesars, the illusion broken, the very real flames still burning, the firefighters fighting the flames, a priest hurriedly blessing the fire hydrants.

So they couldn’t see it. I guess that show was meant for just me and Marley to see.

“And THAT is how the brilliant scientist, Professor Pumyz, became Vulcanus the Incinerator. Do you have any questions, Calvin?”

“Well, my first question is how did you do all of that?”

He chuckles again.

“You should be able to figure it out. This vessel I occupy was crafted from the remains of my avatar that I left in Death Valley when my true self was finally awakened. You should have cleaned up after yourself, Calvin. Those remains were still imbued with the power of the Stone, or at least a small amount of it. And even now, that echo of the greatest power in existence remains, and empowers me.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t as strong as you were last time. So I can guess who summoned you and gave you that vessel. Dehak, probably. He’s been summoning a few pains in our asses lately.”

“You’ve certainly been making a lot of enemies since you killed me. And Dehak told me that Scott is alive again. Once I’m done with you, I think I’ll go do something about that.”

“You don’t like it when people ruin your handiwork, huh? Funny, Chaos is still mad at you for wrecking his vacation planet.”

He sighs wearily, clutching his horned head, clearly remembering Chaos clobbering him with a mallet.

“If it wasn’t for that meddling trickster’s influence, you would have been much more compliant, a fantastic herald. Perhaps I might have been persuaded to spare this dunghill of a planet if you had agreed to serve me, but I’m afraid that THAT ship sailed when you killed me. Now, I simply want you DEAD.”

I smirk at him.

“And you’d become Dehak’s bitch to kill me, huh? Look how low you’ve sunk.”

Marley smirks with me.

“Yu du wee-ah-wize dat bein a dee-mun make yu ee-zee-uh tu kiww, wite? An if yu die again, yu am gunna stay ded.”

“You know how many demons we’ve killed, Pumyz. Or were you not watching during the World Revolution?”

Me and Marley both turn to silver at the same time, still smirking.

“By now, we are verrrrry good at killing demons. We’re not bad at killing Silicoids either.”

“An dis time, we nu haf tu woh-wee abowt wake-in up yu weaw sewf. We can gu aww owt nao.”

“So if you’re serious about throwing down properly, I say fuck it, why not? Might actually be fun this time. I’ve still got some shit to work through, and I owe you a beating for what you did to Scotty.”

Pumyz chuckles a third time.

“Oh? Are you sure you don’t have anything BETTER to do, Calvin? I know about the situation in San Francisco. Can you be there AND fight me?”

Well, yeah, but I’d be operating at half power.

Or with double the stamina burn.

And we’d be dealing with the same problem if you send ME to San Francisco. Last time, he was trying to bait you into fighting him, but this time, he’s trying to talk you OUT of fighting him?

He doesn’t have a true body in the Earth’s core to awaken anymore. Marley already pointed it out.

Oh, yeah. Still, looks like I was right about Vulcanus not actually being responsible for Phenomenon X.

And now we know which of the theories about Vulcanus’ origins are accurate.

Yes, it’s all very fascinating, assuming that it’s all true, but right now, we have bigger fish to fry.

And so does he.

Either we leave this asshole to his own devices, let the squad handle the San Francisco situation without us, or hope we can end both situations at half power, or before the doubled stamina drain kills me.

And why do I feel like there’s more going on that I don’t know about?

Back in Cetteville, Jeff arrives at his house, sweaty from his parkour lesson with Victor and desperate for a shower.

Electra’s still at the School, hanging out with Bulma, Ms. Pac-Man and Dig-Dug in the rec room, plenty of humanoid team members present to watch them.

Jeff will go back to the School to pick Electra up after his shower.

He would have showered at the School, but the Saingans were using the showers when he walked into the men’s locker room, and he was too insecure to strip down around them, so he made an excuse to leave and blipped home, still in his generic grey training suit.

Before entering through the front door, Jeff turns, seeing what looks like a statue on his front lawn. He didn’t register it until seconds ago.

It’s like a big, lumpy gingerbread man made of clay, sitting down on the grass. Its face is only two eyes and a mouth, dark and empty.

And it wasn’t there when Jeff and Electra left the house this morning.

Jeff groans in annoyance.

“Goddamnit. Chaos, is this another of your pranks? Is that you in there?”

He walks up to the statue, cautiously poking it.

“Chaos?”

And suddenly, the golem springs to life, a fire sparking in its eyes and mouth as it stands up and grabs Jeff’s arm, towering over him.

“What the-- get off me!”

Inside Victor’s cabin, Darksyde Doyle rushes into the living room.

He got in through the bedroom closet, Narnia style. The inside of a closet tends to be pretty dark when said closet is closed.

And he did just come back to Earth from a magical world that has talking animals, but no, he hasn’t inexplicably reverted to childhood. Time passes at the same pace on both sides of the universe.

Darksyde Doyle has been here before, a few years ago. But last time, he was just here to deliver a letter, and didn’t actually enter the cabin.

This time, he’s here to pick something up.

Let's just say there’s a connection there.

The cabin is empty. Victor is still at the School, and Scarface is at A&A’s Garage, hanging out with Bella and talking about cars with Amy and Amber, the eponymous A&A.

As Darksyde Doyle looks around, something glowing cyan suddenly appears right in front of him.

VZZT

It looks like the head of Dr. Pierre Faucheuse, several times larger than normal, translucent and slightly flickering.

And it speaks, in an electronic version of Pierre’s voice.

“Hello. This is the giant holographic head of Dr. Pierre Faucheuse speaking. If you’re seeing me, that means you have intruded in Victor’s cabin, and have inadvertently set off the alarm. Victor has already been informed of your unwanted presence here, and is most likely en route to brutally murder you for trespassing as I speak. As he would put it: sucks to be you.”

VZZT

Just like that, the giant head is gone, and what little of Darksyde Doyle’s pale face that can be seen under the hood has become even paler.

“…Shit. Alright, don’t panic, just grab what I came for and get out of here. Now where would he have hidden it…?”

He looks at one shelf, with an illuminite bust and an old oil lamp, and in the shadow of his hood, a knowing smirk can be seen.

It’s the former object that has his attention. He knows the face on that bust, and the story behind it.

So he knows what’s hidden inside the bust.

“Oh, of course. So sentimental.”

He runs over to the shelf and swipes the bust, and then he runs into the bedroom, stepping into the closet, closing it behind him.

WHAM

Seconds later, Victor kicks in the front door and storms into the living room, packing two pistols and looking extremely angry.

“WHO THE FUCK THINKS THEY CAN BREAK INTO MY FUCKING CABIN?!?”

He looks around, but there’s no sign of the intruder. How they got in and out is beyond Victor.

Right now, his main concern is what they were here for.

Victor quickly notices that something is missing, practically seeing a big bust-shaped dotted line on the shelf where the bust of Perenna usually is.

“Oh fuck, they’ve got the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Back in Cetteville, Umbra is sitting on the floor of his cell beneath the School with a look of sheer and utter boredom when a portal of swirling black and white appears, the Hungry Rider stepping out.

KRAKK

Umbra turns to the Rider, looking baffled.

“Rider? Are you a hallucination, or is that really you?”

“In the flesh, so to speak. I’m here to bust you out. Get in the portal and let’s go.”

Umbra points a hoof at his forehead.

“Unfortunately, you came this way for nothing. I’m dealing with a little problem right now that would make escaping rather complicated. A magical mark that will activate and render me helplessly sick under certain conditions, one of those conditions being if I’m more than a mile away from Korkea and not on School grounds. So I’m stuck here, I’m afraid.”

He gestures around with his hoof at the anti-magical field, bathing the room in golden light.

“I’ve surmised that the anti-magical field suppressing my own magic also suppresses the Mark of Justice, but the moment I leave this cell, I’m subject to its rules again.”

The Rider waves off Umbra’s concerns with a bony hand.

“Pfft, don’t worry about it, Big D can probably remove that mark--”

“It also activates if anyone except Deston attempts to tamper with it.”

“Oh. Well, shit. Look, would you rather be free and sick or trapped and healthy? We can still try to find a way to remove that thing, if you’re willing to put up with nausea for a while.”

Umbra shrugs.

“Preferably, I’d be free and healthy, but that’s not an option at the present time. Give me solid evidence that Dehak can remove the Mark of Justice and I’ll consider leaving, but until then, I think it’s better if I stay here. I have plenty of opportunities to antagonize Korkea, and he knows what’ll happen if he loses his patience and kills me. He’s trying to redeem me, can you believe that?”

“Actually, I CAN. He’s the only person who’s crazy enough to try. Fine, I’ll tell Big D that we can’t extract you yet. I think he’ll be satisfied to know that you’re making things harder for Korkea. Want me to pass a message along, Umbra?”

“Give him my regards, and my wishes that he can liberate me from this prison before long.”

“Sure, can do. Now, I’d better get back to base before the ChaotiX catches me here.”

“You do know that this cell has security cameras, right?”

“…Fuck. I forgot about those. Goddamnit, I’ve been spending too much time on Magicca.”

The Rider runs back into the portal, which closes behind him.

Umbra stares at the empty space where the portal was, sighing resignedly.

“So close, and yet so far.”

I glare at Pumyz.

“I know why you told me that whole story. To distract me, and stall for time. What’s Dehak’s game, asshole?”

He just smiles smugly at me.

“You’ll find out soon enough. By now, his allies have probably done what they needed to do, so our business here has concluded.”

He turns, looking at the burning casino, the firefighters having more success extinguishing the flames with the holy water now being blasted out of their hoses.

“I’ve never really liked firefighters. I’d kill them all, but I have places to be.”

He turns back to me.

“This isn’t over, Calvin. I’ll be making my way to Cetteville to settle things properly. If you can’t take care of business in San Francisco before I arrive in your city, well, that’s not MY problem.”

I clench my fists.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you run away this time. You die here and now.”

He looks down, smiling even wider.

“Oop. Looks like my ride is here.”

KRAKK

A large portal of swirling black and white opens beneath his feet, and he falls through it.

Me and Marley race to follow him through, but the portal closes before we get a chance.

CLONG

And when we leap, we both end up slamming into the ground. Fortunately, we were still turned to silver, so it didn’t hurt one bit, but that’s a cold comfort.

We both get back up, reverting to flesh, both of us pissed off about what just happened.

“Well, at least we know how Huey disappeared.”

And I’ve been proven right yet again: Dehak has a way to create portals.

Yeah, and we have no idea where that portal took Pumyz.

For all we know, he could already be in Cetteville.

I glance at my wrist, seeing “INCOMING CALL FROM: DESTON” on my COMP’s screen.

So again, I hold it closer to my face.

“Accept.”

Deston’s face appears on the screen, Val’s lab visible in the background, and Des looks deeply concerned.

“Cal… we’ve got a bit of a situation going on here.”

“Another one? Let me guess, did that demonic Silicoid show up out of nowhere? Because you won’t believe who he is.”

“No, it’s worse than that.”

“Did Pax do something, then? Has he finally squealed?”

“…Possibly worse than that.”

In the white void, Pax and Anti-Venom sit on white armchairs, watching Calvin in Atlantic City on what appears to be a white television.

There are several other white televisions around that one, displaying events in various other locations.

On one screen, Jeff is struggling in the golem’s grip, and on another, Umbra is sitting on the floor of his cell, apparently arguing with himself and losing. A third and forth television display Carnage and his spawn’s host respectively, and a fifth shows Venom, in the saferoom they’re temporarily occupying at the School, munching on some kibble.

Pax looks far too pleased at the currently ongoing events.

“Almost all of the pieces are in the right places. All we’re missing is a certain black pawn.”

Anti-Venom shrugs.

“Venom’s probably in Korkeaopolis. Didn’t you tell Korkea that Venom was supposed to stay in San Francisco?”

Pax chuckles.

“You know what they say: if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad will go to the mountain. Have you ever been to Cetteville before, Michelle?”

Anti-Venom laughs at the very idea of being anywhere near Cetteville.

“Pax, take it from me: that city is the LAST city a lawyer wants to live in. I don’t know how FauCorp’s legal department can stand it, living in the same city as Calvin Fuck-The-Law-I-Do-What-I-Want Korkea.”

“Well, they are ostensibly on the same side as the ChaotiX. I imagine that if anyone ever sued the ChaotiX, they’d be represented by FauCorp’s legal team. And if Calvin does what I’m expecting him to do, he’ll need a good lawyer.”

“I wouldn’t defend him for all of the coffee in the world. If he had just stayed away from Venom, I could have dealt with the shitrat ages ago.”

“I still don’t understand why he fraternizes with beings of darkness. I mean, look at how monstrous the Klyntar are. How could anyone trust a face like that? Er, no offence.”

“None taken, I DO look kinda fugly like this.”

Back on the Prime Material Plane, in the cargo hold of the plane to San Francisco, Carnage curls up, hidden between several suitcases, trying to ignore his growling stomach.

Usually, when he’s feeling peckish, he just goes out and grabs a bite to eat right away, but at this place and this time, that’s not an option.

The last time he was this hungry was back when he was just Woody, and he had been abandoned by his owner for being a fuzzy little psychopath, but had yet to join the herd of which he would become the smarty.

He was eventually ousted for still being a fuzzy little psychopath, and after he became Carnage, he returned to butcher his former herd as payback for giving him the boot.

Which didn’t really help his case.

He’s still a fuzzy little psychopath, but now he’s one with a taste for living flesh. Human, fluffy, cat, rat or dog, he’s not picky in the slightest when he's hungry, but he has developed a preference for fluffy flesh in particular.

And he has seen that there are fluffies aboard the plane, but the days when fluffies would be callously shoved into the cargo hold with the luggage are long gone, so they’re all up in the cabin, with their owners.

Yes, flying in a plane can be just as scary for a fluffy as it can be for a small child, and their distress can be just as disruptive for the other passengers, but every problem has its solutions.

For starters, they provide Sound-Blockers to prevent the sound of a fluffy or baby crying from disturbing anyone else. Those are sold in stores.

And yes, airplanes in general may seem to be redundant with the existence of portals and handheld teleporters.

As well as capsules, which render suitcases redundant too.

However, the portals at the Tele-Ports still have their limitations, blippers still aren’t sold in stores, and capsules have only recently begun to be sold to the public.

In time, though, this may change. One day, airline companies and planes might be rendered obsolete entirely, and never again will anyone have to suffer through wailing infants on a twelve-hour flight, or endure long and humiliating searches by TSA agents.

That whole process is much faster and more efficient at the Tele-Ports. And much less invasive.

Of course, the airline companies are fighting tooth and nail to stay relevant in a rapidly changing world, just like everyone whose salary depends on the status quo remaining what it currently is.

Such as the late Oliver Dinopolous. And you should know how he died.

These days, they try to sell going on a plane as an experience, which can’t be replicated by simply walking through a portal.

Which it certainly is, but virtually anything can be called an experience.

That doesn’t mean it’s a good one.

Down on the ground, inside Leo the hippie’s rainbow school bus, the host of Carnage’s spawn curls up on his bean bag chair.

The bus is parked at a gas station, and Leo is just outside, filling up the gas tank.

A couple of other hippies are inside the gas station to pick up snacks for the next leg of the journey to San Francisco.

They’re getting plenty of chocolate for their hitchhiker, and they still don’t know that they actually have two hitchhikers.

Right now, the stallion and his other are feeling very mellow indeed, and they’re listening to one hippie playing an acoustic guitar.

The other knows little of Earth music, but so far, it likes what it’s hearing.

Another hippie, the one who offered the stallion that pot brownie, is reading a book, still sitting in his own bean bag chair.

He’d rather be smoking a bowl right now, but there’s a cop car nearby and the hippies aren’t sure if weed is legal in these parts.

That’s another reason they want to go to California. It certainly wasn’t legal back home.

As the reading hippie turns a page, he glances at the stallion.

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask: you don’t have a name, do you?”

The stallion shakes his head.

“Fwuffy am opun tu sug-gest-tuns, foh.”

“Cool. I dunno why, but I feel like Stephen would be a good name for you. Not really the kind of name you’d expect a fluffy to have, but…”

“Nu, dat am a gud namesie. Stee-fen, Stee-fen… yuh, otay, am gunna keep it, fanks. Nao we jus gutta fink of a namesie fow Stee-fen udda.”

“…For your what?”

The newly christened Stephen and his Klyntar are a bit too baked to think about their secret identity right now, so the stallion shifts forms, the red and dark blue biomass emerging to cover his body.

All of the hippies in the bus drop what they’re doing, all of them staring blankly at the symbiotic fluffy, who looks around at them.

“Wut? Am dewe sumfin awn ouw face? …Oh, wite, we nu did teww yu abowt dis. Um, yu nu am gunna kik us owt, am yu?”

After a few seconds of silence, the hippie holding the guitar grins, and so do the others.

“Kick you out? Hell no, man! You’re the coolest fluffy we’ve ever given a ride! Someone go get the others, Leo’s gotta see this!”

One of the hippie women looks out through the windows at the gas station.

Leo, having finished refueling, has sprinted into the gas station and thrown a wad of bills onto the counter, and is now dragging the other hippies out, the expression on his face not unlike that of a kid who just heard that the local ice cream parlor is giving away free sundaes.

“I think he already has.”