Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: East of West, Issue #17 – “Fallout”! In the previous installment, the Horsemen continue doing their Horsemen thing and horse around. The Endless Nation decimated the Republic of Texas and almost noosed Bel Solomon, but his Hunter buddy (Thomas) saves him and they’re both outlaws now. The Endless Nation knows that there’s no bloody way in hell that they’ll be able to conquer the People’s Republic, so they attempt an alliance treaty with Xiaolian. That doesn’t get resolved yet, because her ugly, thin, pale hubby returns from his trip. Sonless.

She’s going to beat his ass ruddy, I’ll tell you that much for free.

---

East of West, Issue #16 [February, 2015]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“Fallout”

Badass Archibald on the cover means Badass Archibald shenanigans and I’m here for it, as the kids say. Or as shitty Buzzfeed article titles say.

“Look what they give you. Just so they can take it away.”

At the Black Towers, the home of Colonel Sanders-lookin’ motherfuckers, Archibald (sorry, President Archibald) reclines in his armchair and puffs a large cigar hedonistically. He takes stock and pats himself on the back for all his silly mischief. “What now, Archibald?” he asks himself out loud, “What’s next, you wily old devil?”

His talking disembodied eyeball in a box advises him to seek revenge on naysayers and Negative Nazis. Oh, did I say “Nazis:? I meant “Nancys”! Heh.

Sure, that sounds very appealing. A little knife to the gut here, a little splash of acid on the face there. Tying shoes together and sticking hands in glasses of warm water. However, the peons below Archibald’s ivory tower (ironically) seem to be doing a good enough job decimating each other. Perhaps the move in this game is simply sitting back and watching the action! Yes yes.

Archibald’s secretary informs him that his Chief of Staff has arrived. Her name is Constance. She is his replacement. She is his niece.

“You know, your mother – my dear sister – wanted me to name one of your two brothers to the position. She was beyond flummoxed that I passed over a Governor and a Senator for an academic who just so happened to be her sweet baby girl. Do you know why I did that?”

Uhhh. I dunno. To get into her pants, you creep?

Archibald asks Constance to explain to him why he happened to make this choice. Constance knows that she can fill the void that Archibald’s shortcomings have created, namely, as she puts it, his ability to methodically plan for a high number of variables. Since Constance is a mathematician, aka a dang nerd, variables are her bread and butter! Watch this: x. y. See?

Looks like Archibald is pleased with this answer! Thanksgiving won’t be awkward this year after all. “And how goes your first assignment?” he asks her. In short, it’s hunky-dory, sir. Some real nefarious shit is coming into fruition! Lots of playing the long game and stuff. Everything’s coming up Milhouse!

She leaves. The boxed eyeball is skeptical. “Tricky planning that’sss her game… Can your trussst, ssshe maintain?”

I had forgotten that all these eyeballs have rhyming dictionaries.

“Hrmpt,” Archibald snorts rather impetuously, “I believe in God, good cigars, and strong liquor… Who are these fools that still believe in people?”

Preach it, girlfriend!

“Forever is a long time to feel.”

Now we’re in the Kingdom, home of crawfish and zydeco and Hurricane Katrinas. John Freeman #8 is arguing with his father’s Vizier. She’s smug, and she reminds the child that she speaks for the King, and as the speaker for the King she insists that she…I mean, HE, of course haha I was just kidding…is concerned about how the Kingdom’s investment into the Union is going so far. You remember that, dontcha? Johnny boy is going to try to buy him a nation.

It’s going fine, for your information, thank you very much. Tell the Deadbeat King that he can rise up off of Johnny’s nutz.

OK, that’s all well and good, there’s no doubt that things are “fine”. BUT, if John Freeman VIII intends to make the Union their debtors, the concern is how much debt he intends to saddle them with.

“Tell me, who shoots once when facing a giant?” John spits.
“And who needs an ocean to drown a flea?” the Vizier retorts calmly.

Freeman Ocho has a team doing a little gun training. Exercising their second amendment rights that were overturned by the thirty-fifth amendment and then reinstated by the forty-seventh amendment (between the “bros before hos” amendment and the “no fat chicks” amendment).

John Freeman Nine boasts and brags like someone who didn’t get his leg shot off below the knee. Eight is amused enough, but punches down a little bit nonetheless. Nine is like “pfft, I’d like to see you try, you lousy cuntface”. My words. Man, those are crass words!

“See, Vizier. There’s your answer… For this is how the king keeps us– at each other’s throats currying for his favor.”

“Why do I care so much about the Union?” Johnny 8 continues while embracing the Vizier and pushing his crotch against her crotch crotchily, “Because it’s something I did on my own. Because it’s mine.”

John Freeman #9 calls John Freeman #8 a “One”, so does this mean that the Freemans keep switching around the lineage hierarchy like it’s a NASCAR race? Is Freeman 8 in the lead now? Pick of the litter? “Hey One!” Mr. Nine shouts, “If you really think you’re so much better… why don’t you show us how it’s done? Unless you can’t. Either way it’s something I’d like to find out.

Didn’t he already find out? Like, didn’t he fuck around and find out. Leg blown off, remember? By a gun? Come on, now.

Ok then! Freeman 8 / 1 embraces the Vizier in his right arm, pulls a gun out of his holster with his left hand, and starts firing away! Just firing everywhere! The gun has a million bullets and he’s shooting everything! And while he does this, he tells the Vizier that he respectfully disagrees with her dissent, and that she should relay the message to his fatass father that he has made his decision and that’s that!

One of the bullets punches through Freeman Nine’s metal leg, snapping it off. He’s incredulous about that, and rightfully so.

“He will be displeased, my Prince,” warns the Vizier, referring to the aforementioned fatass father. Freeman Eight Six Seven Five Three Oh Nine doesn’t care. If Pops is unhappy he can get a taste of the cuisine from Bullet City!

The Vizier is being coy anyway. So is Freeman 8. They’re going to engage in lewd relations now. Let’s move on.

Ah yes, the Beast! The little pale child hooked up to all the Matrix stuff. Babylon is his name, and being manipulated by his sphere buddy, nicknamed Balloon, is the game. Balloon is making him see a hellish landscape of fire, brimstone, twisted trees, piles of skulls, and floating visions of John Tesh! “Creepy,” he says, more of an objective statement than an emotional one.

Of course, the reality is a lush forest-y landscape with a crisp blue sky, but Balloon ain’t showing him that.

Babylon is quite unnerved. He doesn’t really want to pass through the scary woods, not really. SUCK IT UP. Balloon needs him to do it and Balloon is the boss! In the woods they go.

Meanwhile, about 50 yards behind them, a hooded figure missing his right arm rides the giant Ezra-possessing Hell Demon. I think it’s Ezra himself! I don’t think he’s dead! That’s too bad. If anyone deserved to die in this series it’s Baldy McMessage Nerd.

“If you plot a path from age one to age whatever, along the way you’ll meet the person you’re eventually going to become. And since growth can only be achieved through experiences… you suck it up… and hope that along the way, you don’t meet too many monsters.”

I don’t know who says that exactly. Maybe we’ll find out! Heh. I’ll make a note of it. *tattoos a reminder on ass cheek*

Hey. what’s going on with Xiaolian and her terrible husband? They seem to be enjoying a quaint luncheon consisting of two kinds of fish, a pile of white stuff, and a bowl of what appears to be either shrimp or maggots! Dig in.

Her handmaidens serve them more food and say a lot of boring words about why the food has historical significance with respect to her many fearsome ancestors. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to hear about it. Leave them alone so that she can talk to her Grumpy Gus spouse in peace.

Death and Xiaolian exchange snarkiness and get down to brass tacks.

“What happened to your eye?” she asks conversationally.
“Traded it for air. Can’t say I’m happy about the deal,” he responds conversationally.
“Tell me husband… do you ever wonder why you can’t hold on to the things you care about?” she asks conversationally.
“Maybe I’m just unlucky,” he responds conversationally.

Polite and conversational. Xiaolian thinks the lack of eyeball is sexy. She wants to bone that socket. ENOUGH PLEASANTRIES! Death wasn’t supposed to show his face around here without their son. Cough him up.

Death cannot tell a lie. He failed, the kid flew the coup, what is he to do? He can only kill people, not save them! What did you expect? Even if he found their son, she can’t count on him not killing him! That’s what he does. It’s in his blood. Or something to that effect.

It’s an inhumane situation, actually. They had him hidden in a strange facility in the middle of nowhere by himself with nothing but his own Young Sheldon aspergers personality to keep him company. WE knew that! But Xiaolian certainly didn’t.

Here’s the cool part. Listen to this, Jack. Death was rooting around the facility for a bit and came across an interesting souvenir!

So yeah, first of all, dismembered blue leg! Death recognizes it right away; he and Conquest have been buddies since the beginning of time. He’d never forget a leg like this.

Second of all, obviously their handsome, robust son did this. Third of all, Wolf over there. Wolf of Wall Street as I like to call him. He’s spent enough time growing up in the Endless Nation to know his way around a scary, futuristic facility! And let me tell you, this one was scary and futuristic. 100,000 sq ft of machines and computers storing all sorts of data. God knows what. That many computers can store approximately .00001% of all the internet pornography!

So, yeah, the Endless Nation wants to make an alliance with the People’s Republic of America. Better think hard on that one, baby. Perhaps Xiaolian should grill them for information before she makes a hasty decision. She can ask the really tough questions like “WHERE’S MUH SON?” and “WHY?”

Here’s the juicy part! Wolf, being Cheveyo’s son… you know Cheveyo, right? Your weird cult friend? Got his brains blown out? Odds are good that Cheveyo stole the technology in order to push the Chosen agenda. The Chosen’s “unholy designs”. Xiaolian is taken aback by this new revelation. “You think they made an A.I. for the apocalypse?” she asks with concern. Her son? The Great Beast? Groomed for earthly destruction? HER BOY? Nein!

In denial, she argues that Death doesn’t actually have any proof of any of this information. After all, Death is emotional. Gets all mad and vindictive. Unbecoming of a Horseman, certainly. Especially the colorless one.

Death doesn’t like to hear Xiaolian outwardly express her pessimism, fears, hopelessness, and cynicism. Gets him all up in a jumble! Makes him antsy and nervous.

“Why did you come back?” she asks… … …conversationally.
“I wanted you to know. He’s free.”
“He’s lost.”

Nah, the kid’s sharp as a tack! He’ll figure it out. Hooked up to creepy machines, remember?! Brain stuffed full of all that ripe knowledge?! The little brainiac is probably applying to become a Jeopardy contestant as we speak! Relax, babe. And when he finds his way, he’ll find the two of them! The cozy, friendly couple! Not at all dysfunctional or abnormal. Not at all one social worker call away from their son being taken away again, honestly.

Anyway, they take off their clothes and prepare for disturbing carnal acts. It’s weird.

We see Xiaolian’s butt. Her people recoil in horror.

“A Lotus, the death and resurrection of love. A fire that burned and could have lasted forever…but did not. For after those few days, the House of Mao and her Horseman never saw each other again.”

Final Thoughts

Too bad so sad. Does this mean that Death dies a death? Will she crush his giant horse head with her porcelain enamel hands during the throes of passion? That would be quite embarrassing for him, wouldn’t it. Boy will his face be… white.

The post East of West, Issue #17 – “Fallout” first appeared on Tom Writes About Stuff.