Walibi's revenge

It was already a week ago that Walibi was missing. Modesto was walking through the town towards the shopping center. He had to buy some bread, cheese and meat. He also decided to go looking for a new pair of trousers and some shirts.

In that shopping center was everything underneath one roof. The butcher, the bakery, clothing stores, shoe stores and some restaurants and cafeterias. There was also a little store where you could buy made to measure clothes for a reasonable price. That's also where his cloak comes from.

It's owned by a really nice man. He comes from Asia and is the best clothes maker in all of India. So he says. Maybe when he's going to get married someday, he lets him make another cloak. Specially made for his wedding, hopefully with Rimfire.

On his way he walked past a dark and narrow alleyway. “HEY, YOU!” a voice shouted. Modesto stood still and slowly looked to the side. There stood three guys in black clothes. “I beg your pardon?” he said politely.

“Are you deaf? I said, hey, you,” the boy repeated. Modesto walked slowly towards him. “No, as a matter of fact I'm not deaf. Besides, I also have a name if you don't mind. And if you don't know my name, I would suggest that you don't talk to me at all, got that?” “Well, I'm sorry, your majesty,” the boy said sarcastically.

Modesto rolled with his eyes and walked away. “I'm not done yet,” the guy said behind him. Modesto stopped and turned around. “Can you make this quick?” he asked. “I mean, I have other more important things to do than standing here talking to you,” and he looked at the other guys who looked threateningly at him.

“You're that Modesto dude, aren't you?” Modesto frowned slightly. “I don't really like to be referred as 'dude',” he said coolly and he raised his head a little bit. “But if you say so, yes. I'm Modesto Vincittore di Casteldaccia Catalano Christofori.”

“Wow, you're a snobby little fellow, aren't you?” the boy said with an evil grin. “Little?” Modesto said insulted and questioningly. “Never mind,” he added. “Anyway, in general, I'm not snobbish. I just act like you. You also pretend that you're better than you really are.” The boy stood threateningly in front of him but Modesto wasn't afraid at all. “Are you searching for someone?”
the boy asked.

“Maybe,” Modesto replied carelessly. “You know what my name is,” he continued. “But may I require your names. That would make our communication a lot easier, don't you think?” The boy took a step back and chuckled softly. “I'm the leader of the gang and my name is Big Nick. This over here is Dennis and that is Kenny.”

“And we want you to meet our new gang member, Jumper.” Walibi appeared into sight. He wore a black t-shirt with a skull on it. Black trousers and black leather bands around his wrists and his neck with silver-grey spikes. He had black lipstick on and he was also black around his eyes. He had his left ear pierced and he had a scratch across his cheek.

Modesto looked at the little kangaroo and ran towards him. “Walibi, I'm so glad you're unharmed.” Walibi drew forth a knife and Modesto backed away. “You touch me once, I'll cut your throat in half,” he said with clenched teeth.

“Excuse me?” Modesto said and lifted up his eyebrows. “You heard me,” the kangaroo said. “Walibi, what's got into you?” Modesto asked indignantly. “You got into me,” Walibi whispered. “You never liked me.” “WHAT?!” Modesto shouted. “Off course I always liked you. Who told you that?” He realised that it was a stupid question and looked behind him at the three boys.

This was possibly even worse than be beaten up by gangsters. Now, he apparently was one of them. “Did you tell him that nonsense?” “Well, yeah. We also taught him to rob, to fight and to kill if necessary,” Big Nick said.

Modesto laughed softly, closed his eyes and shook his head. “Him? He wouldn't hurt a fly,” he sniggered. “Oh no? Show him, Jumper.” Walibi made some pretty interesting ninja-like moves and finally he pointed the knife at him.

Modesto clapped sarcastically in his hands. “And this has to impress me, how exactly?” he asked ironically. “You're not impressed?” Big Nick asked indignantly. “Not really, no. In fact I'm not impressed at all,” Modesto replied. “Anyway. Walibi, stop this nonsense at once and come with me. I'll bring you home.”

Walibi began to laugh scornfully. “Home? With you? I don't think so. This is my home now.” “Walibi don't be ridiculous. Come along,” Modesto said sternly. “No,” Walibi replied. “You're fake. You never cared about me.”

Modesto sighed and squatted down in front of him. “I want you to listen very carefully to me. Since the very beginning I have cared about you. You must not listen to these guys. I care more about you than anything else, no matter what they say. This is not who you really are. Do you really think, if I didn't care about you, I would offer to bring you home?” he said and looked deeply into his eyes.

“You're the one who chased me out of your house. You're the one who told me to piss off. You're also the one who said, 'I don't care where you go',” Walibi listed with a raised voice as he gave Modesto a furious gaze. “Okay, perhaps that was wrong of me to say but … ” Modesto admitted.

He couldn't finish his sentence because Walibi pushed him over with his fore arm while the spikes stung into his throat. Modesto laid on the ground but he stood up again very quickly. He took his cell phone out of his pocket. “Now it's enough. I'm calling … ” he said. “If you dare to call my parents, I kill you,” Walibi whispered and he held the knife against Modesto chest.

He hid the device back into his pocket and looked at him. “Fine, as you wish, but let me say one thing.” “And that is?” Walibi hissed through his teeth. “That is that you have to think about your parents and your friends who always cared about you.”

“Do you really want to leave them behind, broken hearted. Think about the time we had … ” “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Walibi shouted. “I DON'T WANT YOUR SAD STORIES!” and he now held the razor sharp knife blade against the side of Modesto's throat as he breathed heavily.

“So,” Modesto said with a calm voice. “Do you want to kill me? Right. Do it then. Come on, just do it,” he whispered provocatively. “DO IT!” he screamed. Walibi did nothing. “Just what I thought. You don't dare to,” he said with a sarcastic laugh.

He pushed the little kangaroo's arm away. “You're so pathetic. After all these things we've done together. And this is the gratitude I get. I never felt so sorry for someone in my entire life. But all in all I feel sorry for myself. Sorry that I've ever known you.” He turned around and walked away.