A blood-red jetsam with one gold tooth cautiously and bravely walked out of
the milk bar, a seemingly walking muscle with solid-gold armour on. The sword
at his side gleamed in the midday sun, the point sharper than a shark's tooth.
He was largely recognised in that part of town. Nobody messed with him, and
he was an undefeated Battledome challenger.
He sat down on a bench just outside the building and pulled a sandwich from
underneath his silver Roman helmet. As he sat down, his sword unsheathed itself
from gravity and landed softly on the lush grass beneath him. A small brown
blur emerged from behind a tree and picked up the glimmering sword.
With lightning-quick reflexes, the jetsam grabbed the little NeoPet by the
neck and glared at him. Noticing it was only a cub, he let go but continued
to glare.
"Sir? Sir! You dropped your sword, Sir. Be careful, Sir. You can get hurt
with that," the little pet said very formally, holding out the long sword with
both flippers, not a drop of fear overcoming him as he looked at the stranger.
Tex was a very young jetsam, strong for his age of only seven or eight or
so and had a chocolate-brown coat and piercing amber eyes. He wore a black hooded
cloak and his back fin was pierced in two places. The only thing not-so-frightening
about him was his merry smile. Jetsams don't normally smile... they have a reputation
of being haughty, Battledoming creatures that strike fear into any young NeoPet's
soul.
The warrior grabbed the sword arrogantly and continued to glare. He expected
the little creature to run off a while ago, but he continued standing, the warrior's
powers not inflicting on the little jetsam's mind. He just stood there with
the big toothy smile, a welcoming little small fry who seemed to be the type
to waltz up to strangers and give them a present.
"Well...?" The warrior said in a deep voice, shrugging.
"Hi I'm Tex!" The little brown jetsam said, widening his grin. "Want to be
friends?"
This was ultimately unpredictable. Friends? This little jetsam SHOULD be either
running away or trying to pick a fight. Jetsams were commonly the school yard
bullies. As they got older, they would evolve into assassins, thieves, gangsters
and fierce Battledomers.
The warrior suddenly burst into laughter. "Good one, small fry!" he said,
patting Tex on the back.
"But I didn't make a joke..." Tex said. He shrugged, picked a flower from
the ground and handed it to him. "I love you. You're my best friend!!"
The warrior laughed harder and harder, until he finally collapsed on the ground,
tears in his eyes, laughing so hard that his side hurt. Suddenly Tex began to
meekly chuckle, thinking that it must have been an adult joke or something.
After a good, long laugh, he got back up and sighed deeply. "Go home, kid!"
And so Tex did go 'home', merrily and thoughtlessly.
***
"Dishes first, THEN car oil, you disgraceful little sardine! All right. That's
IT! First you come home from your fifteen minute lunch break LATE, then you
do the chores in the wrong order?!?!?! No dinner tonight. NONE! And if I catch
you sneaking into the kitchen, NO MORE DINNER FOR A WEEK!" the overgrown spotted
Cybunny ordered. Tex, his head bowed and eyes looking down, nodded sadly. A
splotch of black oil covered a large area where his back and dorsal fin were.
He picked up a clean rag from the ground. "And if you drip as much as a DROP
of oil on my new floor... I don't know what I'll do, but it will be so terrible
that you will regret it!!"
The two NeoPets stood outside in the lawn, an old evergreen-coloured car set
in the centre of it with the hood flung open. The Cybunny loomed over Tex like
a vulture, ready to attack when ready. Little did Mr. Infernoski know, however,
that a rugged, handsome jetsam stood on the street, watching the scene with
an expressionless face after finishing his sandwich. This giddy little jetsam
has THIS for a house, for a life? He assumed he'd have the most perfect parents
in the entire world that seemed as if they came from a sitcom.
Tex hated it when Mr. Infernoski said that. At birth he was sold to the Cybunny
to be a slave. Infernoski had a big burden on his shoulders: he was supposed
to run the generator for the raggedy town. Slavery was only permitted because
it was an anarchy, and Infernoski only ran the generator because he was paid
lots of money. Of course, he never really ran it: Tex did. Not only that, however,
but with a personal slave around, the greedy old Cybunny thought it would be
fun to order him to do his chores and duties of his own.
"Sir, why do you have to be so mean?" Tex said. Oh, sugar! why did he ask
such a dumb question? That old Cybunny called it a stupid question. Stupid questions
were not tolerated by him!
"Why you little..." he began sternly, lifting an angered paw...
"STOP!" a familiar voice sounded. "Stop. PLEASE!" Why, though?
"What the heck do you want?" The Cybunny said instinctively. Suddenly he noticed
he was talking to a huge fish three times taller than he was and fifty times
stronger. "Err... may I... help you...?"
"Five hundred," He said, glaring at Mr. Infernoski.
"Five hundred what?" He arrogantly replied.
"Neopoints, you overgrown pile of fuzz! For your miniature slave. I crave
the company of my own kind... especially if they're doing work." Oh, those acting
classes better pay off...
"But he runs my company! I can't just give him away," the Cybunny said
foolishly. The warrior bent over more, glaring furiously. "I mean... a thousand
and it's a deal!"
The warrior tossed a small burlap bag a the Cybunny's feet and stomped off,
Tex following at his heels like a trustworthy dog.
"I knew it! I knew you were my best friend. Mr. Inferno is just a big meanie!"
he said, shaking his little head.
"Has it ever occurred to you that the kindness of strangers doesn't necessarily
occur to everyone?" The warrior replied with a slightly loud tone in his voice.
Tex stopped. "Whaddya mean?"
"I mean that not everybody is nice in this world. There are lots of other
Mr. Infernos out there."
Tex laughed. "You're funny." He smiled and dashed up to his side to catch
up. "So, best buddy, where to?"
"Name's Rufus," the warrior said. "And I'm going to the Battledome"
"Bah-tull-doooome..." Tex said, awkwardly pronouncing the words.
"Oh, come on, kid! You gotta know what the B-dome is all about. Yer a jetsam!
You're BORN for the Battledome!"
"Well, sorry, Rufus... I don't get out much. Is the Battledome fun? Can you
show me?!" Tex said excitedly.
"Sure..." the warrior reluctantly replied, reminding him that it was for the
best. If this jetsam wasn't the big, tough kid that every young jetsam should
be, than he'd be eaten alive! "Just don't make too much commotion."
"Yay! You're the best buddy a kid could have," Tex said, making a little leap
of joy. Pathetic!
***
Tex placed himself in the front-row seat, enshrouded in various bags and bottles
of refreshments. He cheered along with the crowd as Rufus entered the left side
of the Battledome: a dashing character of crimson hue; golden bands around both
fins glimmering in the sunlight. He wore his roman warrior's helmet and jet-black
cape. He was a handsome fellow, that Rufus, his pearly-white smile reflecting
the sun's rays and causing ultimate, deadly beauty.
At the other end, none other than Sabre-X was released, an olive-green Lupe
with shaggy hair. He had two very long, sharp teeth extending from his mouth
like a mammoth's, spikes protruding all along his back in a line. He breathed
the word war-torn, and was tough as nails. He braved the Tyrannian War and got
out alive with honour. A war general to the extreme, a hero in the outside world,
and an extremely difficult Battledome challenger. Tex, being the merry little
fellow that he was, cheered for both of them.
An ear-shattering horn tore through the audience, signaling the fight to commence.
Rufus snatched his Ancient Manchu Bow and aimed it at Sabre-X. He quickly released
it, and in a split-second, the flaming arrow was sent straight at the mighty
warrior. The Lupe leaped over the arrow, sending it crashing into the wall at
full-speed, taking a sizeable amount of cement from the wall. The Lupe growled
ferociously, suddenly stunning Rufus. Sabre-X snatched some battle slices and
flung them at the tough jetsam in a rage, the spinning, razor-sharp blades able
to send any warrior home crying. In a panic, Rufus grabbed his Shield of Soaring
and blocking the incoming weaponry, making them bounce off like an innocent
plastic butter knife.
To be continued... | 
