xp_logs | Fast Times at the Putnam County Fair (Reply)

As arranged here, our former Hounds are willingly escorted out to a County Fair by Forge and Angel. While there, some folks have more fun than others.

"You know, for someone who's pretty much got the physique of a born predator," Forge said calmly, "you have got to have the finickiest stomach around. Come on, man, funnel cakes are made to be drenched in chocolate and powdered sugar." He took a bite of his snack to emphasize, moaning in enjoyment of the concoction that would possibly have killed a diabetic on sight.

"Besides," he announced, gesturing around them, "this is a county fair. Cut loose. Live a little."

"Dude. Do you -remember- the first week I was here? Halloween candy?" Kyle said, after swallowing his mouthful of his own plain ungarnished funnel cake. "I never want to barf that much again, ever." He shrugged half-heartedly. "It tastes fine without the chocolate. Seriously."

Forge arched an eyebrow. Even after getting over the whole "alpha Jennie" thing and returning to as normal as he ever looked, Kyle had been a lot less... exuberant than his normal self. Hence Forge and Angel's plan to get the three former Hounds out away from the school to somewhere they could enjoy themselves.

Looking around, one of the booths caught Forge's eye. Smiling to himself, he pointed. "Okay, dude. Make you a deal. I won't bug you about enjoying funnel cake if you can win a prize at that Jacob's Ladder booth."

The booth that Forge had pointed out was open on two sides, and had a rope ladder with wooden rungs stretched horizontally over a thick pile of straw, attached at the ground and to the back wall where the ropes joined together, letting the ladder pivot and twist at either end.. "Dude. Sucker bet." Kyle said, and handed the paper plate of funnel cake over. "You eat my funnel cake, dude, and we're gonna have words."

He kept back from the booth watching the game operator demonstrate once to a teenage couple, and stepped forward, money in hand, as the male half of the couple unceremoniously dumped himself onto the ground.

"Ring the bell, win a prize! You, with the green hat, I see your green dollars right there, climb the ladder, and ring the bell?" The operator didn't break in tone, even when Kyle handed over his money and stepped up to the ladder.

It was a matter of balance, mostly, but the real trick was to keep his feet on the outside of the rungs, almost on the rope sides, and to move his leg at the same time as the arm on the opposite side. Even with mutant agility, and knowing how it worked, Kyle nearly spilled himself on the ground two thirds of the way up the ladder, and made the last few steps with the ladder swaying under him.

Once the bell had been rung, Kyle hopped off the ladder, and gave Forge a thumbs-up, and then collected his prize, a plushie boa constrictor that he mock-ceremoniously draped over Forge's neck.

"See?" Forge chimed, "you're having fun. Told you."

The two young men walked down the promenade lined with booths and food vendors, as Forge found a handy waste bin to toss a soda can into. From behind them, the voice of another booth operator could be heard.

"Step right up, folks, see who's the best in the Wild West, test your hand, test your eye, point and shoot and win the prize do I have anyone interested you ma'am? Only one dollar for one minute, break the plates, knock down the ducks, come on folks they're moving so slow they may as well be standing still so easy a child could do it you sir try your hand at this amazing test of skill..."

Peering over, Forge saw the barker pointing at him, holding up a small air rifle chained to the counter, a slow-moving line of metal silhouettes and white plates moving behind him. "You yes you sir, step right up try your hand, test your skill today step right up..."

Shaking his head, Forge turned away when he heard the rest, "Come on, Injun, play a little Cowboy for once, won'tcha?"

"Dude. What an ass." Kyle muttered under his breath. "I bet the game's rigged too." He looked over his shoulder at the booth. "Amazing test of skill my hairy ass. Amazing test of how much that guy wants to try to cheat people. At least the ladder thing isn't rigged. It's just hard to figure it out."

Forge wasn't listening to Kyle, his jaw clenched. Slowly, he turned to look at the barker, who was smirking as he extended the air rifle. "One dollar, one minute, shoot as fast as you can, everyone's a winner sir thankyou very much..."

Dropping a wadded-up bill in the plexiglass box, Forge took the rifle in his hands, and as he heard the first second tick on the clock, he let out a breath slowly.

.177 caliber spherical copper-plated steel shot lever action air compression two hundred fifty feet per second three point four four pound trigger pull negligible trajectory at less than ten feet

Breathe in, one more tick. Breathe out, raise the gun, fire.

"Shot and a miss come on sir it can't be that hard just point and shoot so easy a child could do it..."

Sights misaligned by ten point five degrees ignore the sights it's just a machine and you know the machine you hold the machine you command the machine...

The next tick, and Forge snapped the rifle up to his shoulder, ratcheting the loading lever and firing. The satisfying plink of one metal silhouette falling was almost perfectly synchronized with the sound of the lever action racking back and forth again, compressing the air-driven piston and loading another BB into the barrel.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Fire.

Two more silhouettes before the next tick of the clock. Three more. Two more and a plate. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds. Forty-five seconds and the small air rifle sounded like a locomotive, chugging and pinging as plates shattered and silhouettes dropped.

Finally, the last pieces of the final plate clattered to the floor of the booth, and Forge set the rifle down without flourish. The clock ticked past fifty seconds, the only sound to be heard.

Without a smile, Forge pointed at the largest prize on the side wall. "That one, if you please."

At the ten second mark on the clock, Kyle had gone still, staring at Forge. By the time his friend was done, and taking the prize from the dismayed looking barker, Kyle was gaping at him, mouth open. "Uh... Dude, that was.. " He paused to search for a word, and failed. "Something. That was something..."

"Huh?" Forge said, tucking his prize - a rather cheap portable CD player - into one of his pockets. "Oh, that? Sorry, the guy pissed me off. What, did I do something weird?"

"Dude, other than totally owning the shooting gallery?" Kyle said. "Okay, you know how you were saying, like, right after the dinosaurs that the predator thing is scary because it's natural to me?" And then Kyle paused, taking a long deep breath and flexing his fingers. "It was like that, only without the claws and fangs."

Forge cocked his head as he and Kyle walked towards the main thoroughfare. "Oh. Really? That's not normal?" he asked, legitimately puzzled. "I mean, it's just point, aim, pull. Okay, I mean, there's compensating for inherent inaccuracy, but that's just easily obtainable from the first shot and you can correct from there, I mean... huh. That's not normal?" he repeated.

Kyle never thought he would actually parrot what Dr. Samson had been telling him in therapy, but here he was, with the words coming out of his mouth. "Normal for you, dude, sure. Normal for me? Normal for me is a nine foot standing leap. But if you mean that people who aren't you can't do it? Yeah. I've .. never seen that before."

"Weird," Forge mused, tapping his fingers against his thigh. "Huh. That's... kind of freaky." He stood still for a moment, lost in somber thought, before changing expression and pointing over towards a cotton candy vendor. "Hey, there's the others. Ooh, cotton candy. I'm going to go mooch some."

"Dude, that's all you." Kyle could smell the cotton candy from where he was standing and it smelled too sweet and stick to him. "Let them know I'll be right over? I want peanuts. I'm hungry."