Chapter 7: The Badger

The discussion with the Titan Defense Committee was fast and furious, but mostly ceremonial. The Badger knew what to do. He had always known what to do. Because, you see, he had met the Titans once before. And as far as he was aware, he was the only person on this planet who had been able to glance upon the faces of these tremendous creatures and lived to tell the tale.

“Mr. President, I know you wish to bring out the big guns, but let me go in there first. I know I can reason with the creature. You have to let me–“

“Very well. I know under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even dare listen to the crazed ravings of an elementary school teacher with an Indiana Jones fetish, but you’ve proved yourself time and again.”

“Not to mention that you wouldn’t even know that this was coming if I hadn’t warned you ages ago.”

“You’ve already made your point,” The President smiled. “Now go save this country.”

“You got it, Mr. President!”

Mr. Harrison, I mean, The Badger, ran to the underground emergency vehicle, which at this time of year was black 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 with a red stripe down the center, due to how cool it looked when being driven into danger. He jumped through the open driver’s side front window and landed in the driver’s seat. He pulled down the sun shade and the keys fell into his readily opened hand.

The engine revved to life and Mr. The Badger drove off deeper into the caverns to the secret exit just outside the school grounds.

His nerves were wrecked as he exited onto the main highway. Sure, he had met one of these Titans before, but even though he knew they were gentle giants, he couldn’t help but fear that he was somehow wrong, that there was some sort of dramatic danger that he was heading directly into. He put on the sunglasses which had been sitting on the dash, rolled down the window, and swerved to the left abruptly to avoid the shoeless man in pajama pants and a worn T-shirt who had run out into the road in front of his car.

The Mustang plowed into the aluminum railing on the side of the highway and the hood burst into flames for some reason.

The man wearing pajamas ran to the car and pulled the mangled mess of a body which was once The Badger out.

The Badger, knowing fully well that he was reaching the end of his time here on the earth, used his final breaths to get out his most important message.

“Tell the world that all they need is love,” The Badger said, before falling limp in the oddly dressed man’s arms.

“Dammit,” the man said. “What the hell is going on in here? None of this was supposed to happen!”

He looked up to the sky, as though someone up there might be able to answer his plea. “Who the hell is messing with my story?!”

Published by Adam Oster, Adventure Novelist

Husband, Father, Creator/Destroyer of Worlds

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