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[Dark lane. The main character wounded a goat-like demon. It lies on the ground.]
Starring
GARCIA HOTSPUR
Garcia: The bullet train is here, hellmonkey.
Demon: As if you mortals can be saved with one squeeze. Kill me, and I shall be replaced by another and another... and another still. You cannot point that pet gun of yours at all demonkind. And wherever you are not looking is where the greatest threat shall be. One at a time, we shall seize the treasures of your life as spoils, and leave only emptiness and despair - my last gifts to you.
Garcia: Just don't forget to wrap them, Puta Claus.
Demon: By the way, Hotspur... How is your dear sweet Paula? Is she “hanging in there”?
Garcia: Fuck you!
[He blows the demon head out with his gun and run away. He runs home and finds his girlfriend hanged.]
Starring
PAULA
Garcia: Paula! Oh god… no. Shit. Paula! Wait... n-no!
[A demon crawls out of Paula’s body. Garcia kills them all, and in the meantime Paula’s body is stolen.]
Co-starring
FLEMING
(Aka "The Lord of Demons")
Garcia: You let my Angel go now, stranger, and maybe I will blow your head off nicely.
Paula: Garcia, help me!
Fleming: Let her go? But can't you see the little peach is coming on to me?
Garcia: Come onto this, pendejo!
Fleming: Oh, Demon Hunter. Your bullets have no bite. No… penetration. You need more THRUST!!!
[He hurls Garcia with a wave of force from his staff.]
Garcia: Que Diablos es eso? (What the hell?)
Fleming: That was just the appetizer, Hotspur, a taste of what's in store.
Garcia: So, you know my name.
Fleming: And you don't know mine? Please, call me Fleming. Ohh. You're not going to get pouty over one little blonde bombshell? Tell you what, you can have the girl back, good as new. If you atone for your sins against me for slaying my legion of demons. Admit that you challenged a greater power and lost. Admit that your… endowments… will ever measure up to my own.
Garcia: I will admit you're a fucking asshole. How's that, "Fleming"?
Fleming: So be it. A place for Paula has now been set at my table, mortal. You cannot have her back now. But come to my castle in the Underworld, and you could still join in our revels.
Garcia: Such a tempting offer. I do love a party. Maybe we could play pong or do shots!
[He tries to shoot at Fleming, and throws him out the window.]
Fleming: I would say, "You slay me, Hotspur!". But you don't. You can't! Now say good-bye to Paula. She has a lot of dying to do. And coming back to life, and dying some more. I like to keep my mistresses guessing. Yes, help her! Because in the meantime, I'll be helping myself.
[He disappears into the portal. Garcia gets his jacket and jumps after him.]
Garcia: Paula!
[Garcia wakes up lying on the ground. His gun turns into a flying fiery skull.]
And also starring
JOHNSON
as himself
Johnson: You know, G, just because the highway to the Underworld is stretched out before us doesn't mean we have to...
Garcia: Is there a problem, Johnson?
Johnson: Well, I'm just saying. Demons are buttholes. You really wouldn't like it there.
Garcia: Says the former demon. What's wrong, lost your spine?
[Johnson transforms into a torch.]
Johnson: Uh. Okay, okay, look. If you want to go to the Underworld, good on ya. But you don't know that place. Look... look what they did to me. A few little transgressions, and now doomed to an eternity of heavy metal jokes and -- and posing for pirate flags! It's only worse for mortals!
Garcia: Then all the more reason to go. They have Paula. So the way I see it, you are either with me or you're not.
[He throws him away.]
Johnson: No!!
[Johnson transforms into a motocycle.]
Johnson: Uh… Get on.
Garcia: Alright. Vamonos! (Let's go!) The Underworld lies just beyond the sound barrier.
Johnson: How do you know? That's, like, super classified demon information!
Garcia: Not according to the Internet.
[He rears up and drives to the horizon.]
[Garcia rides a motorcycle to a huge gate.]
Garcia: This is your old barrio (neighborhood), right, Johnson? Then you can be my tour guide.
Johnson: Me? But I quit the whole demon thing ages ago… and really, my memory's absolute rubbish.
Garcia: Oh, I'm sure it will come back to you in no time. Relax, amigo. This is going to be an adventure. Our very own road movie. And the best part is… you never know what's waiting around the bend.
[He comes to the gate and tries to open it. Behind the gate a hordes of demons with burning eyes already waiting for him. Garcia can hardly fight them off and close the gate.]
Johnson: Like what you see?
Garcia: (laughs) Que magnifico! (How magnificent!) Where is Fleming's castle?
Johnson: Well, it won't be on this side of the door.
Garcia: All right. Let's start this road movie with some road… KILL!
[He kicks the door down with his foot. There is not a single demon behind it.]
Johnson: That's right, G. Don't let all that peace and quiet push you around.
Garcia: When demons hear the name "Garcia Fucking Hotspur". They run the other way!
[He sees a flying eye with wings.]
Garcia: Johnson. What the hell is that thing?
Johnson: Holy cow… I don't believe it. Willy! That's One-Eyed William!
Garcia: Friend of yours?
Johnson: Are you kidding? William is my aunt's first husband's adopted son from Ukraine!
Garcia: Then you are practically brothers. I can't see shit up ahead.
Johnson: The Underworld be a shadowy place. Anyway, not a problem. Take a look over there. You see that lamp?
Garcia: Hanging on the wall?
Johnson: I can light that up for you.
Garcia: The Lightshot. Of course!
Johnson: Give it a try, G. There. Did I brighten your day?
Garcia: What can I say, Johnson. You are the right tool for every job. So when do I get to light up some demons?
Johnson: I'm sure you'll have your chance. They hate my light shot. Leaves a nasty rash.
[A small cart with corpses pulls up to Garcia, from which several demons come out. Garcia easily shoots off their heads. Small white gems fly out of the demons.]
Johnson: Ka-ching! Save up those white gems, G.
Garcia: These demons aren't very talkative.
Johnson: What have they got to talk about? Once your soul rolls into town, that's it. You're damned, and Fleming doesn't let anybody off the hook.
Garcia: He sounds like a real dick-tator. Johnson. Why is there a goat head hanging on the wall?
Johnson: Oh! Well, everybody knows that goats are a source of light.
Garcia: Right. Of course…
[Walking down the street, Johnson notices a child's face hanging on the door. The face weeps nastily and shows discontent with all its appearance.]
Johnson: Poor tyke. Most new arrivals in the Underworld are condemned to guard doors like this for the first hundred years. We all have to start somewhere…
[When Garcia comes to the door with a face, Paul comes out of the corner. As soon as she shows up, she immediately runs away.]
Paula: Garcia…
Garcia: …Paula? Come back! Paula!
Johnson: Easy, G. This place is full of deceptions and dirty tricks.
[In the building next door Garcia sees a fruit hanging in the air.]
Garcia: Is that a floating…
Johnson: STRAWBERRY! Ohhh. Gimme gimme gimme. Oh, these things are like demon catnip. When I was little…
Garcia: Johnson. Do I take the strawberry?
Johnson: Yes! Geez, excuse me for having a little fruit fantasy. Hey, don't you dare give my strawberry to that sprog on the door! NOOO! G, YOU berry squanderer!
[Opening the door and going inside the building, Garcia finds a bottle of hot sake.]
Johnson: Ah, drinks! At least there's one good thing about the Underworld.
Garcia: What, liver damage?
Johnson: That's the beauty of it! In the Underworld, you don't die from drinks. They UN-kill people here.
[Garcia notices someone.]
Garcia: Paula!? Paula?
[However, he finds only somebody's disfigured corpse.]
Garcia: Que es esta mierda… (What is this shit…)
[The bell ringing from far away.]
Johnson: Uh, ohhh. I was afraid of this…
Garcia: What? Why is it suddenly getting dark?
Johnson: This isn't ordinary darkness! If you stay in it too long, it'll suck the life out of you! Quick! Use the Lightshot on the goal head! You can't stay in the Darkness like this. It eats away the flesh of mortals!
Garcia: How did you know shooting a goat would banish the Darkness?
Johnson: How did you not know? Some Demon Hunter, I say.
Garcia: Just warn me if I have to fuck a horse to unlock a door. Paula? Is that you? I can't see for shit.
Johnson: If only there were SOME way to shed LIGHT on the situation.
Garcia: Don't mock me, bitch.
Johnson: Just use the Lightshot on that lamp. Sorry.
Garcia: Chingada madre (motherfucker), not again!
Johnson: And this time, there's no goat to save us! Quick, the door! Run through the door! Huh… much better. No Darkness, and dare I say it? …no demons. Nice one, G. How'd you know to use the Lightshot on that demon? Are you sure you need a tour guide? There's the goat head! Out the window!
Paula: (waving) Garcia.
Garcia: I was with her when she picked out that lingerie.
Johnson: You? In a Chicktoria's Secret?
Garcia: Are you fucking kidding me?
Johnson: Keep running! There's no way to disperse Darkness this thick. More Darkness dead ahead. At least we're standing on the bright side of things this time.
Garcia: If you can call this bright.
Johnson: I hear bleating! Better check your goat-dar.
Garcia: What the fuck is that?
Johnson: Let's go with "big and hopefully dead demon" shall we?
Johnson: STRAWBERRY!
Garcia: A red gem? What does this do?
Johnson: Shhhh! Keep it down! That's a performance enhancer. Very shady. Very, very illegal!
Garcia: The Underworld has a pub?
Johnson: That's right, and vending machines, too. If you're damned, you're going to need convenient access to drinks pretty much 24/7.
Garcia: So, Johnson, do you eat eyeballs, too?
Johnson: Perish the thought! It just so happens I'm a fruitarian, thank you. These human hearts let you withstand the Darkness longer.
Garcia: I am not even going to ask how that makes sense. So, uh… Does Willy always take a big smoky dump in public?
Johnson: Ha! You should see him piss. At least we can keep track of where we've been this way.
DO WHAT'S RIGHT!
LOOK AWAY THE LIGHT
…AND LOCK IT TIGHT!
Johnson: Demons can't stand light. Gotta put it all somewhere, you know?
Garcia: Barrels. I can see they gave the problem a lot of thought.
Johnson: Now here's a fine mess.
Garcia: These demon pubes are blocking the doors.
Johnson: Hey, look up there. There's a switch glowing the same color. Hold on.
Garcia: What?
Johnson: Where else have we seen that color? You reckon taking a walk on the wild side, might bring this whole situation into perspective?
Garcia: I fucking hate puzzles. Paula! Please, Angel, wait for me! Hijo de puta! (Motherfucker!) Cute trick. Here we go again. Huh? What's that fucker's fucking hand doing here?
Johnson: Um. It's his world. Nothing's out of Fleming's reach he's literally got a finger in every pie. We're surrounded, G! Wait! We can use these barrels. They re filled with pressurized light. They'll explode! Over there! The door!
VOTE FLEMING!
THE ONLY GUY ON THE BALLOT!
Garcia: Don't any demons try to challenge Fleming? You know, like a coup.
Johnson: Yeah, right. Do you know what happened to the last demon who tried that?
Garcia: No.
Johnson: Neither do I, G. All they found was a shishkebab with two ears, two eyes, two kidneys, and two…
Garcia: Never mind.
[An earthquake occurs.]
Garcia: Someone is trying to bring down the house…
FLEMING'S BLOODY OPERA
PRESENTS
THE LOVELY JUSTINE
IN
ORFEU EVISCERATO!
"An Earthshaking Performance!" "Don't Miss it!" "Dress in Red!"
Garcia: Fleming likes opera?
Johnson: What, you thought he'd be the "emo" type? Dead alert, G! That corpse is reacting to the Darkness! Light this place up before it spawns more demons!
[Some kind of Portal picture hanging on a wall.]
Garcia: Is this some kind of diagram?
Johnson: You leave town for a few demon centuries and suddenly there's ALL this amazing new technology when you get back.
[Garcia comes to the opera house. Justin, unexpectedly in the military unloading, stands on the balcony, sings and dances.]
Johnson: O dulcet tones! How lovely.
Garcia: Yes. Kind of.
Johnson: Oh, fudge! What am I talking about? This is what caused those tremors! It's a melody of death! Oh my god ! Ohmygodmagamagamaga!
Garcia: Why should I be afraid of a few puny earthquake… what the hell?
[Justin's singing creates a demon with a fan of blades on his hand.]
Johnson: Are you afraid of that!?
Garcia: Shit! It's nice to be noticed, eh?
Johnson: No!
[Garcia kills the demon by shooting a blood bag on his back.]
Johnson: Stronger demons require a constant supply of human blood, which they store in special repositories on their bodies. They're a source of great power but also an exploitable weakness.
Garcia: Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve.
ICE CREAM
STRAWBERRY ShiTcake!
BRAIN FREEZE!
HAIRY CHERRY!
EYE SCREAM!
Garcia: I understand why brains and eyes are on the menu… but why do demons like strawberries?
Johnson: You don't know about strawberries? They're demon fruit. Fleming's idea of a practical joke on the world of the living. They're made of ground up tongues.
Garcia: That's disgusting!
Johnson: That's not the half of it. You thought "pop her cherry" was just a figure of speech?
[They notice a demon sitting on a mountain of corpses with two swords instead of hands. The demon plays his harmonica attached to his mouth.]
Johnson: Hmm, that fellow looks like a VIP.
Garcia: Very important pendejo?
Johnson: Something like that. Fleming gives his favorite souls special treatment. People who exited the world of the living in style.
Garcia: So not all demons are damned?
Johnson: Oh, everybody's damned. The VIPs are just comfortably damned. Little perks here and there.
Garcia: Such as?
Johnson: They get to keep their genitals.
Garcia: Paula…? I'm coming, baby! Fucking crazy world. Magnifico. More demon pubes.
Johnson: Let's find some Darkness that gives us a clear shot at the switch. A hand that barfs Darkness. And they said this neighborhood was gentrifying.
[In the alley leading to the fair Garcia manages to catch up with his beloved.]
Garcia: Paula, wait! Stop running, my love! Paula, where are you? What the fff…
[Soon he finds her… with her head cut off. Garcia gently picks up the head.]
Garcia: Paula…
[The head starts to laugh hysterically.]
Garcia: Hija de puta! (Motherfucker!)
Johnson: That doesn't smell like Paula. Unless she's stopped showering…
[Paula's headless corpse rises up and tries to put her head back in place. The head continues to laugh hysterically.]
Johnson: Well. That killed my stiffy.
Paula: Garcia…? Is that you? You came to save me?
Garcia: Angel?
Johnson: Look out, G! It's a trap!
Paula: Aaaahhh… NoooOOOOOOO…!
[She struggles in convulsions. Her body is torn in half and from there comes out a demon with a harmonica. The demon begins to play the harmonica furiously.]
Garcia: What the shit!?
Johnson: Demons are like men, Garcia. They all try to “get inside” the prettiest girl.
Garcia: It's sick! These twisted demons!
Johnson: Yes, well, that's the reason I left.
Garcia: Fuck this pendejo! If Mr. Man-on-Monster wants to play… Magnifico. Where is that bastard?
Johnson: He must be hiding around here somewhere. Hello? Anybody home?
Garcia: Show yourself, hellmonkey!
Johnson: I think he's scared of you.
Garcia: He should be, J. He should be…
[After playing hide and seek for some time, Garcia defeat the monster. A huge Fleming's hand comes down from the sky and takes the loser. A blue gem falls out of it.]
Johnson: Nice rock, shove it into my face, G. Trust me. It doesn't mean we are engaged or anything!
Garcia: Might be a tight fit… but okay. So what exactly did that do?
Johnson: Blue gems let me transform into new TOOLS OF WAR. New GEARS OF ME. In other words….
Garcia: A new weapon. Magnifico.
Johnson: You know, I bet all the VIPs are walking around with blue gems.
[They have been walking along empty lanes of the demonic city for some time.]
Garcia: You know I found Paula in a dumpster, right?
Johnson: WHAT? You said you met her at the supermarket!
Garcia: I did. It was the bin out behind the Dime-a-Dozen.
Johnson: And you just… picked her up out of the rubbish and brought her home?
Garcia: Why no?
Johnson: Sometimes I think I hardly know you.
Garcia: What was that?
Johnson: I don't know, but we've got company. As in "lots of"!
Garcia: Well, If they pull up a chair, would be happy to beat them with it.
[Having defeated a bunch of demons and entered the neighboring house, Garcia finds a big book on a stand. Johnson starts reading it.]
Johnson: THE MAN WHO NEVER HAD HIS FILL. It was a cold and snowy eve: certainly no night for a man without a home to be walking these grey and endless streets. Inside the pizza parlor, George Reed spun a lively tune on his harmonica. The local children giggled and pointed excitedly at the "harmonica man" as their parents glowed with approval. His reward would be all the pizza he could eat - six pies, at least - and a warm bed in one of these folks homes. He knew they were good for it. But when he tucked in for the night, George had not had his fill. As the years and calories stacked up most men would have gotten older and fatter. Yet for all he consumed, George only got thinner as he washed from town to town. Tapeworm! Tonight he plied his trade with some grannies and orderlies in a nursing home. Hooveewaaah! His harmonica filled the room with joy. After devouring three helpings of pork chops and mashed potatoes, he eyed the plate of the old woman next to him. Juice dribbled down his chin. "Go ahead, Georgie," she said. "You're such a good boy, you shouldn't have to starve. But George had not had his fill. Early the next morning, he was already on the freeway with his thumb in the air. "Where ya headed?" said the man in the truck. "Nowhere," said George. "Anywhere". It was a new decade, and tonight George played to an all-but-empty bar in the city. He had lost a lot of weight. Afterwards, the only woman in the joint took the stool next to him and asked him his name. The bartender leaned over the counter. "You don't know this guy, Mary George is famous. Been all over the Tri-State area." With a wink, he added, "Man's insatiable." And that night, George proved it as he buried his face in Mary's beaver. Holy woodland creatures! That-a-boy George! That-a-boy George! "Play that harmonica," she purred. But even after five trips to heaven and back, he had not had his fill. The morning after was an awkward affair, as they stared at each other over coffee. One wanted to feel more; the other just wanted to feel. In his final days, George was all skin and bones. I can relate. Except for the skin part. His… last meal had been a mistake. It was on a sidewalk one night in a small suburban town that he came across the boy. Hungrily, and with an agonized grimace, he opened his mouth to beg for help. Hooveewaaah! Ooveezah! Out came a cacophony of wheezes and toots. But the boy understood.
Garcia: Wait, you mean George ate his harmonica?
Johnson: Once he was alone, George Reed looked at the candy bar he held in one hand, and began to cry. Hoo Hoo… They found George's half-eaten body in a market the next town over. In one hand he held a knife, in the other, a fork. Chunks of flesh had been torn from his chest and his arms… Blood framed an eerie smile. The wind that morning blew fierce, and as it whistled through the hole he'd carved out of his own neck, the harmonica man played his last song in this world. There were gawkers, and many knew him. They shared stories of how he had filled them with hope, filled them with life. They, at least, had had their fill. (chuckles) Especially Mary. THE END.
[Coming out of the building Garcia meets a little crawling demon, which spews darkness on the goat giving light.]
Johnson: That cheeky imp! He doused our goat!
Garcia: Then let's put out some lights of our own.
Johnson: Would you kindly bust a cap in those mother fudgers before they douse the lights? You know, we never finished talking about you kidnapping Paula.
Garcia: I didn't kidnap her!
Johnson: You hauled her out of a skip! Isn't that illegal in some states? What did she say?
Garcia: Nothing. Not for weeks. I was afraid to even touch her, you know? Like she didn't belong to me. To anyone.
Johnson: But something changed.
Garcia: There was a phone call.
Johnson: Um, speaking of phones… Put that on hold, G. We've got company! Okay, now what's this about a phone call?
Garcia: Me and Paula were eating when the phone rang. Suddenly --she slams her fork down and says, "Don't answer it!!"
Johnson: Creepy.
Garcia: First thing she ever said to me. But I got up to take the call. Johnson, you should have seen her. She jumped out of her chair, RAN to the phone and ripped it right off the wall.
Johnson: Whoa.
Garcia: Then she came and put her arms around me,and started crying. It was the craziest, weirdest… sexiest thing I have ever seen. I been hers ever since.
WHAT ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT?
TEETH KILL!
Garcia: What? Demons don't like teeth?
Johnson: The gun laws here are very strict. Haven't you wondered why they don't shoot back? You and I are violating almost every rule in the book. Heck, I'm practically MADE of teeth!
[A payphone rings nearby.]
Garcia: Expecting any phone calls?
Johnson: No siree. Maybe it's from Paula.
Garcia: Or at least someone with answers. Dios mio! Paula, is that you? When will this fucking torture end!!!!!!!!! (screams)
[Paula turns out to be a mirage. Instead, only human remains lie on the paved sidewalk.]
Johnson: From hottie to hamburger, just like that. Fireworks! We could use these to chase away the Darkness! At least in short bursts. Just look at them. Fiery sprinkles in a great big chocolate sky.
Garcia: Johnson. Shut up.
[He succeeds in leaving the area clogged with darkness.]
Garcia: Magnifico. Always this fucking Darkness!
[Getting out of another puzzle situation, Garcia meets a very strange demon. You have 6 lanterns attached to his back. Next to him are constantly growing plants that emit light.]
Garcia: What the shit is that?
Johnson: Let's take a closer look.
Demon: Well, hidey ho! Name's Christopher. Now don't y'all be afraid. I ain't gonna bite, trust me. Ya see I'm whacha call a mix-cher of beast and human. Best of both worlds, my pappy said! But what're you doing 'round these parts? Ain't you a mortal?
Garcia: Why should I tell you? All I see is demon.
Christopher: Well shucks. You gotta look underneath the leath'ry exterior. Deep down, I am a sensitive and understanding listener.
Garcia: Some asswipe named Fleming stole my girl and took her to his castle. I am here to take her back.
Christopher: Meanin' you're on a quest to kick the Prince of Evil's ass. Ho-lee SHIT. Oh, I wanna get in on some of this action. How can I help, huh? How can I?
Johnson: Well, I hope you're offering more than just enthusiasm.
Christopher: I tell you what. I get purdy hungry, and I just lo-o-ove them white gems. You got enough of those, and we can trade. With the right incentative, I might even be able to introduce you to some REAL product. Know what I mean?
Garcia: (laughs) Magnifico.
Christopher: M'kay, then chuck them sparklies right down the hatch. Go on. Feed me… aaaAAAH! See y'all real soon. Y'all find any gems, you haul 'em on back to your pal Christopher. Take care, now!
[Saying goodbye to the charming horned beast, gassing goes further and finds the fish crawling on the floor. Judging by the sounds, it's a bit retarded.]
Garcia: Whoa! What's this… sushi with a dick?
Johnson: These guys may look ugly but they're actually quite useful!
Garcia: Are they friendly?
Johnson: Yes! I kept one as a pet. Hit them with light and they'll keep you safe.
[They walk a dark corridor with fish and go outside.]
Johnson: A cemetery.
Garcia: Really? I had no idea.
Johnson: No there isn't no need to get snippy. It's just, this wasn't here before. Since when do demons get buried?
Garcia: Since I came to town.
Johnson: Whoa… Who did this? "Mr. X"?
Garcia: Only a demon hunter could kill this many and not be lying dead next to them. Paula and I promised we would be buried together…
[He approaches a fresh tomb with a tombstone and reads it.]
Garcia: Here lies Garcia Hotspur, so-called hunter of Demons. Died wearing a purple jacket.
[A huge head comes out of the ground, which behaves quite aggressively.]
Garcia: Any suggestions?
Johnson: Aim for the head! Not that you really have a choice. Shoot the red spots!
[Garcia beats the head and goes inside the high tower. A chandelier comes down from above with a stream of darkness with it.]
Garcia: Darkness… Where is a goat when you need one?
Johnson: Okay, okay, crazy idea, G. What if we used that chandelier. Is it just me, or are these crystals a bil phallic?
Garcia: You are one to talk.
[The heroes manage to climb upstairs.]
Johnson: You see? Chandelier. Brilliant idea.
Garcia: …For one you pulled out of your ass.
Johnson: Wrong! I don't have an ass.
Christopher: How'd you two get here so fast? Y'all rode the chan-dee-leer, din't ya! Happy trails!
[They walk into a vast square with a statue in the center.]
Johnson: It sounds like a cat having sex with a harmonica. And not the consensual kind.
Garcia: Hey, every demon has the right to pick the music… for his own funeral.
[George the Harmonica Demon pulls out his own heart and eats it, becoming stronger. He struck a horse on a pedestal in the center of the square with lighting and it comes to life.]
Johnson: Oh-kaaaay. The excrement is really hitting the proverbial fan here, G! I'm what you might call "concerned."
Garcia: Me too… concerned this kill's gonna be over too quickly.
[George saddles the horse and summons himself a weapon.]
Johnson: Might I suggest we not just stand here?
Garcia: Before you die, demon scum, I will carve my name into your flesh. That name is Garcia Hotspur. Hunter of demons, and slayer of cabróns like you!
[After a long and exhausting battle with the demon. The demon gets down on his knees and starts praying. Someone in a long dress with a scythe appears and cuts off the head of the demon. Garcia gets the blue gem.]
Johnson: Now here's a pretty prize. Mm-hmm, I smell an upgrade! Plug it in, G!
Christopher: How 'bout a little shopping? I was watchin' the action. That was incredible! Y'all lift weights? See y'all real soon.
[Going further Garcia notices a demoness tie Paula to the bell tongue.]
Garcia: Paula!? Don't you touch her, you demon bitch!
Johnson: SHH! Have you got a death wish? What did I tell you? The Sisters Grim can kill anybody, even demons! No one's safe from their scythes… least of all loud people.
[Garcia enters the bell tower.]
Johnson: Don't look down, G.
Garcia: And see the Darkness rising up to kill us? I will try not to! There is Fleming's castle again. Does it have a name?
Johnson: Well, officially, he calls it Castle "Gulkak-zu-barza-lech-tora-ray." But most of the locals just call it the "Castle of Hassle."
Garcia: Because he hassles them all the time? Oh! Because it's a hassle to get there!
Johnson: No… Because it's a hassle to say the real fudging name. If I ever get my own castle, let me assure you…
Garcia: Shh! What's that?
[Garcia is attacked by a strong demon. He shoots off the demon's head. After that the bell falls, forming a huge hole in the floor. Garcia goes down the stairs.]
Paula: Garcia!
Johnson: Ouch. I hope you're good at apologies, G.
[He jumps into the hole.]
Johnson: Here comes a, uh… "hole" new world.
[It is a sewer level!]
Johnson: Ugh… It smells like a toilet down here.
Garcia: Blame Willy. I think he just let one fly.
Paula: Garcia!! - -
Garcia: No! Paula is mine!
[He defeats an entire army of demons and catches up with the demoness. She was hiding behind the column.]
Garcia: Hijo de. I thought something stank.
Johnson: Um, let's not make the Sister mad, G.
Grim Sister 1: (laughs) Get out of my way unless you want to feel the cut of my scythe. (laughs)
Johnson: Nice one, G. Now we're in a fight to the death… WITH DEATH. They say a Sister Grim's greatest fear is hot flashes! And no wonder. Look how menopause treated her.
Garcia: Paula… Angel… Why can't I stop them from killing you?
[He kills his first sister and gets the blue gem.]
Johnson: Now here's a pretty prize. Mm-hmm, I smell an upgrade! Plug it in, G!
[Garcia gets a new gun which is called Hot Boner.]
Johnson: Hey, fill those cracks with your explosive Hot Boner! You heard me.
[Breaking down the wall, the heroes go outside.]
Johnson: Do I see trees? Oh, please tell me we're out of that gosh-awful town.
[In the forest, they meet a huge demon that looks like Big Daddy from Bioshock 2.]
Garcia: Motherfucking shit on a stick!
Johnson: I thought we were done with him!
[Having defeated the giant, Garcia goes to a harbor. Paula fights desperately for her life in the water.]
Garcia: Fucking mind games! Paula, keep treading water, baby!
[However, the key to the door leading to his beloved is held by Fleming's hand.]
Garcia: Magnifico. A hand job.
Johnson: Let's head back to that gate. Who put these hellmonkeys in cages?
Garcia: We need Darkness if we are going to shoot out that switch.
Johnson: Well, maybe those "hellmonkeys in cages" could give us a hand. Er, leg. Whatever.
[Next they meet another old acquaintance.]
Johnson: Sounds like more of those giant demons.
Garcia: And here comes the kicker.
[The darkness flooded in and killing the giant.]
Johnson: Well, would you look at that! The Darkness really did a number on that brute.
Garcia: Magnifico.
Johnson: Boy, for a second there, I thought we were… eeewww… GROSS, are those demons crawling out of his… Not cool!
Johnson: More cages… I wonder.
[Soon Garcia finds his beloved. She softly laughs and runs away into a cave overgrown with light emitting flowers.]
Garcia: Paula? It's me, Angel!
Johnson: Yes, G, it's you, but is that her? Who wears garters into a swamp?
Christopher: Boy, my heart goes out to that gal with the floatation issues. Happy trails!
[At the exit of the cave Garcia catches up with Paula. She runs in his direction like a zombie.]
Garcia: What's wrong, baby?
Johnson: She's gone psycho! Run for your life! I hate to say it, but your girl has gone mental!
Garcia: She's always been crazy. That is why I love her.
Johnson: But she never gets mad at you?
Garcia: Oh, she gets mad. One morning, after a bout of passionate lovemaking, she was making us coffee…. Just to get a reaction, I told her I was married.
Johnson: You were being funny.
Garcia: Yeah, a practical joke, you know?
Johnson: Chicks love those.
Garcia: Paula was so angry she grabbed a knife and chased me all over the apartment. And she is scary with a knife.
[After a while, Paula is taken away by the second sister. The fight begins. Garcia wins.]
Johnson: Now here's a pretty prize. Mm-hmm, I smell an upgrade! Plug it in, G!
[Garcia goes further and finds a sushi lamp next to a dark field, in the far side of which there is a shack, similar to Ash's she'd from the Evil Dead. Groovy!]
Garcia: I think these pescados locos (crazy fish) have taken a shine to us.
Johnson: Stay in the light. We can't see their eyes if they're wearing a mask!
[Shooting off the demons and running from Paula, Garcia enters the house. We see Paula running away from home in first person, which is also a reference to the Evil Dead.]
Johnson: Why do I feel like I'm in a movie?
Garcia: What, were you raised in a barn?
Johnson: Good to know we have the same tastes.
[Someone is looking out of the basement. Garcia comes to the lid of the basement and jumps on it. Demons begin to fill the shack.]
Garcia: For God's sake! How do you stop them? Mother, FUCK!
[After killing all the demons in the shack and going down to the basement Garcia finds a new book. This time he decides to read it himself. Reading is hard for Garcia. Strong Spanish accent and poor knowledge of English hinder him. It all looks incredibly comical.]
Garcia: THE LEGEND OF STINKY CROW. Caw, caw! For nearly fourteen years his mind had been soaring miles above, but Elliot Thomas was still stuck down on Earth, in the boring town of Sinchester. "Sin-chester."
Johnson: Sinster.
Garcia: What?
Johnson: It's pronounced "Sinster."
Garcia: How do you know?
Johnson: My cousin's from Sinster. Ugh, never mind, keep going.
Garcia: Alone in his tree house, he glued feathers to his wingsuit, readying himself for the day he would join the phoenixes and quetzalcoatls in the sky. "Dinnertime!" cried his mother from their house across the yard. Elliot sat at the center of the table. A TV dinner was challenging his BO as the dominant smell in the room. On his left, his mother yammered about her day at the ER. On his right, his father was absorbed in his smartphone. As for Elliot, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, the most fascinating personality within a ten-foot radius. In homeroom the next day, Justin Shmakovski threw a crappy paper airplane at him. Within seconds, Elliot had built a superior vessel. He stood up on his chair and swiftly launched the Papierflieger (What?) at his unsuspecting enemy.
Johnson: Go, Papierflieger, go!
Garcia: Zoom, splort! Splort! The marvel of paper aviation lodged itself in Justin's tender eyeball. "Mr. Thomas!" bellowed their teacher, "Go to the principal's office!" Later that day, Elliot was cooing quietly to himself as he bought a candy bar in the lobby. Casey Wichtitz was smoking nearby and sneered at him. "You'll never fly, Stinky Crow," she laughed. "Why don't you go jack off to some bird porn? I bet you do more fapping than flapping!"
Johnson: Hey, that's pretty good.
Garcia: "Fuck you!" screeched Elliot, as he ran for the door. It was dark out by the time Elliot meandered home. On the sidewalk, he passed a gaunt man who stared at him intently desperately, even.
Johnson: Uh oh. Stranger danger.
Garcia: The man opened his mouth and said, Hooveewaaah! Ooveezah! (What the fuck?) Elliot had planned to eat his candy bar tonight, while he finished his masterpiece, but he instead held it out to the man. "I know what you mean," he replied. The schoolyard was packed the next morning as Elliot's classmates waited for first bell. Caw, caw! As one, the students turned toward the gate and saw Elliot dressed head to toe in his wingsuit. After a moment of shock, they burst into laughter. But they were already far below him. He swooped through their midst and into the school. Caw, caw! He bounded through the halls, zigzagged up the stairwell. Cawww! The school let out a collective gasp when they saw Stinky Crow on the roof. With a triumphant snap! he spread his wings, and a moment later, he had leapt. The next two seconds were the most beautiful of Elliot's entire life. He could feel their eyes upon him, he was flying, and their awe was keeping him aloft. Ten minutes later, as guidance counselors wiped bits of Elliot off sobbing students and the police struggled to piece together the story you are reading now, Elliot's teacher looked down at the wreckage of the boy on the pavement, and never forgot what he saw. One bloody hand had formed a peace sign. The other was giving him the finger. (It's like an Alanis Morissette song.) THE END.
Johnson: Ok, lovely. I don't think I'll sleep for weeks.
Garcia: Kid has cojones (balls).
Christopher: I'd hate the be the dumbass that got tricked into rentin' that cabin. See y'all real soon.
[Soon Garcia meets Paula again. She comes out of a crypt and, seeing Garcia, runs to him.]
Johnson: Boy, she just loves you to pieces. Run! Look, there's a key! We'd better kill all the demons in case they've got more. Into the house, quick!
[Garcia runs into a shack. Inside, there is a military man armed with a grenade launcher. Both heroes aim their weapons at each other.]
Soldier: Drop it.
Garcia: You first.
[The soldier lowers his grenade launcher.]
Soldier: Why do I get the sense you and me are in the same line of work?
Garcia: Wasting hellmonkeys? Who says it's work?
Soldier: Uh-huh. Just stay out of my way, friendo. I'm in a hurry.
Garcia: Hurry to do what?
Soldier: Mind your own fucking business.
Garcia: Fine. You stay out of my way. As long as I stay out of yours.
Soldier: Good. Hard men like us don't mix.
Johnson: Wait wait wait, was that a come on?
Soldier: "Hard" like "hardened." Experienced. Just… forget it.
Johnson: I don't think I ever will.
Soldier: Now, if you'll excuse me.
Garcia: Have fun.
Soldier: Just remember…
Garcia: I stay out of your way, you stay out of mine.
Soldier: Bingo.
[He leaves the shed.]
LOCAL WOMAN
DIES
IN GRISLY MURDER!
Johnson: Look, G. What are those newspaper articles? "Maria Dominico, a native of Langosta, was found dead early Thursday morning outside her suburban home. She was 29 years old. According to local police, her skin… (grasp) Her skin had been completely removed." Good lord. "She is survived by her husband, Colonel--" Hmm, that's weird. The name has been X'ed out.
[Garcia comes out of the shack. Unexpectedly, Paula's hand comes out of the ground and grabs his leg.]
Paula: Garcia…
Garcia: Angel!?
Paula: I found you at last… My love. I want to hold you. Wait. What… What's going on! No! No… I'm bleeding. Help me, Garcia!
[Her stomach starts to bleed.]
Garcia: Hold on, Paula!
Paula: Why, Garcia, why! Why am I bleeding? Oh God, it hurts… AAAAAHHHH!
Johnson: Garcia, stay back!
[Paula screams eerily. Her body is being torn in half. Inside her is a demon that Garcia recently read about in a book.]
Elliot the Crow Demon: Fuuuuuck Youuuuu!
Garcia: Paula!
Paula: Garcia… How long must I suffer? I just want to give up and die…
Garcia: Don't you dare give up on me, Paula. I swear I'm coming!
Paula: Garcia… I don't think I can make it…
Elliot the Crow Demon: Fuuuuck…
[He pierces her head with his long nails.]
Garcia: You dickwad.
Elliot the Crow Demon: Fuuuuuck Youuuuu!
Soldier: Out of my way! This one's mine.
[He starts firing his grenade launcher nonstop at the demon as if it were an automatic rifle.]
Soldier: The one I loved was taken away by this fiend. I don't know why she died, but that question no longer concerns me. All I want now is to have her back. But I have the deep feeling that's not gonna happen because… the flesh that hangs from this fucker's body looks all too familiar. This is your death! Hellbeast!
Elliot the Crow Demon: Fuuuuuck Youuuuu!
[Elliot lies on the ground and seems to be dying. A huge hand comes down from the sky. A soldier shoots at it and it disappears.]
Johnson: Now that is one hard man.
Elliot: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! (runs away)
Soldier: Here I come, fucker! (runs after him) RAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.
[Gracia picks up a blue gem.]
Garcia: Magnifico.
Johnson: Go on, G. I'm ready for insertion!
Christopher: Somebody's out there dropping enough F bombs to start World War III, I tell you what. Happy trails.
[Having walked a little further to the bridge over the lava lake, Garcia discovers… Soldier's corpse.]
Garcia: Son of a bitch.
Johnson: Are you kidding? But that guy was nearly indestructible!
Garcia: No… he was weak. See what's left of him? You do not become chopped meat if you are stronger than they are. This hellmonkey needs to face a real hunter.
Elliot: Fuuuuuuuuuuck Youuuuuuuuuuu!
Johnson: This demon is an absolute lunatic.
Garcia: Don't be so down on the guy. Maybe his mother forgot to hug him, or he played too many video games.
Johnson: Yes, well, there's still a bit of a leap between "socially maladjusted" and "Dear Abby, I just ingested my own heart"!
Elliot: Fuuck Youu!
Garcia: Before you die, demon scum, I will carve my name in your flesh. That name is Garcia Fucking Hotspur. Hunter of demons, and slayer of pendejos like you!
[Garcia kills the Crow Demon. One of the sisters descends from the sky and cuts its head clean off.]
Johnson: Hey, let's take a closer look at that billboard over there.
Garcia: What's this flyer?
Johnson: Ooh, gimme gimme! Sweet mother of pearl! This is an ad for ANGEL KISS! Only the hottest hostess club in the Underworld, G! The honeys there used to give the most lovely XXX jobs before I XXXed them in their XXX sockets. Of course, this is when I still had fleshy parts.
Garcia: Johnson! That's sick!
Johnson: Just get me to a phone! This boner needs a booster. Now THAT'S my kind of advertising! Let's dive in!
[He plunges into the portal located on the ass of the girl painted on the poster. The interworld that Garcia walks into is full of debauchery and lust.]
Garcia: I don't know about this…
[He goes out to the streets of the neon city. Huge demons from Bioshock 2 begin to approach him from all sides.]
Johnson: Uh-oh. We are surrounded by Giant HellMonkeys! They'll cream us if we get too close! Quick, take me over to that phone.
Garcia: Right now!?
Johnson: Trust me, G.
Girl: Thanks for calling "Angel Kiss" sugar. I'm not wearing anything but a smile
Johnson: Oh my god! Oh my god ohmagaga oh ga ohmgaaa SCHA-WING!
[His "barrel" is lengthened.]
Garcia: Ho-ho, now that is a Big Boner! All right, Johnson. Let's take this pole for a stroll.
[Garcia kills all the demons with his Big Boner.]
Johnson: Quick, G! Paradise awaits between those posterboard legs!
[When all the demons in different locations are defeated, Justin appears. She again silently dances to the gramophone and then leaves.]
Garcia: It's really a catchy song.
Johnson: Catchy like herpes. Not that I'd know.
Garcia: (laughs) Vamanos. (Let's go.)
[Jumping into the portal, Garcia finds himself in a two-dimensional world!]
Johnson: Look at this, we're flat as paper! It's like we're in our very own toy theater.
Garcia: No one toys with me.
[After getting out of the strange tunnel Garcia finds himself in a kind of vast room filled with books.]
Johnson: A library? Hard to believe that singing she-devil would ever crack a book.
Garcia: That puta (whore) wants to see if we have the balls to follow her.
Johnson: Well, I think I can keep it up.
Garcia: TMI, Johnson. (TMI = Too Much Information)
Johnson: Look alive. We've got company! Danger in the stacks, G. These baddies can teleport! Perfect! Now it's OUR turn to Dewey-decimate THEM.
Garcia: Come on. That diva bitch is going to lead us straight to Paula. Why would the hellmonkeys bother building a library?
Johnson: Have you forgotten about those storybooks we found? Demons love a well-spun tale every bit as much as humans.
Garcia: So what is your favorite demon story?
Johnson: Oh, that's easy! The Unbreakable Huntress. Ah, here we are. An artist's rendition of the Unbreakable Huntress. Lots of demon hunters have challenged Fleming over the years. And while some of them were legends like you, Garcia, very few of them were women.
Garcia: Well, that makes sense. It takes a lot of grip strength to hold on to a hunter's manly equipment.
Johnson: Don't be sexist, G. The ladies I've known had more than enough "grip strength" to hold on to MY… Do you want to hear this story or not?
Garcia: By all means.
Johnson: Once upon a time, there was a proud and beautiful demon huntress, the first woman of her profession. Dressed in red and armed to the teeth, she fought her way to the Lord of the Dead's castle. "What arrogance! How dare you challenge me!" bellowed the Lord of the Dead. “The last thing I expect is a challenge,” the huntress answered.
Garcia: I like her already.
[They see dancing Justin in the distance. She flies on her feet jetpacks from one balcony to another.]
Johnson: I bet she'd be fun in the sack if she weren't so keen on eviscerating us. Just saying. Hmm… We need to find a way over to the other balcony. I think we could use the Lightshot to re-arrange those shelves and make a bridge.
Garcia: Magnifico. More shock jocks.
Johnson: Blow up the plugs!
Garcia: Another painting… What happened to the huntress?
Johnson: Well… So impressed was the Lord of the Dead that he put her back together and made her his queen. Time and again he killed her, just to take pleasure in her proud refusal to be dead. But they say she's never stopped trying to claw her way back to the world of the living, where she knows she truly belongs. Isn't that a great story? Her courage is what inspired me to seek my own freedom.
Garcia: Huh, she sounds like one hell of a woman.
[They found yet another book.]
Johnson: PSYCHOPOMP & CIRCUMSTANCE. It was her turn to fetch the water, and Maras Grim was determined to be done with it as soon as possible. Bucket in hand, she made her way down to the well by the wheat field. She and her two elder sisters were all beautiful, but on this windy day, Maras outshone them all. She was in love. Whsssh. The wheat bowed a greeting as the breeze caught it. "And a good day to you," Maras giggled, as her nipples responded to the weather and thoughts of her lover. (My word, what is this storybook rated?) She wound a pail of water to the top of the well, but no sooner had she grabbed the rope than she felt a sharp tug, lost her balance, and went tumbling into the gloom headfirst. "Motherfudge! Motherfudge!" cried Maras. An hour later, the sun sat lower in the sky as two figures approached the well. One was Maras's older sister, Kauline, and she was very concerned. The other was their faithful collie, Au-Au, "Help me!" cried Maras from the bottom of the well. But as Kauline grabbed the rope to pull her sister up, she too was yanked into the darkness below. (Well, that sucks.) "Au-Au! Go get help, boy!" cried Kauline. "Au!" woofed Au-Au in response. But because he was a stupid collie, he instead grabbed the loose end of the rope and began to tug valiantly. CRACK-A-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Suddenly, a freak bolt of lightning lanced down from the sky and hit poor Au-Au, causing the pooch to explode in a crimson blossom of slippery Au-Au giblets. Poor, stupid Au-Au. (Stupid is right! My pet was smarter.) (Shh! Keep reading.) It was well after dark, and Maras and Kauline had all but given up hope, when their eldest and wisest sister, Giltine, arrived on the scene. "Where are you, sist-aaagh!" was all she managed to utter ere she slipped on Au-Au's unctuous leftovers and fell down, down, down into the wicked well. Plonkety rascal rabbitness! And with that, the Sisters Grim vanished from the world for seven full years. When they returned, they served a new master who had been smitten by their beauty. Though that beauty faded, his gift to them was theirs forever: the power to end lives as abruptly as fate had ended their own. THE END. I was hoping we'd find out why they all sound like men.
Garcia: Do you think they will ever write a book about us, Johnson?
Johnson: Honestly, I see you as more of a comic book hero. And anyway, it just so happens I've already been immortalized in prose.
Garcia: Really, what is this book called?
Johnson: XXX and the XXX testicles.
Garcia: I am sorry I asked.
[Justin shows up nearby.]
Garcia: Bitch! I'm not falling for that sexy bullshit!
Johnson: And I'm only at half mast!
Garcia: Now you bring my Angel out here before I get misog… gynst… gyn… FUCK!
[By singing, Justin calls on the third sister Grim. She goes down to the library breaking through the glass roof.]
Johnson: Ohhh dear. I think the eldest Sister Grim is just a bit angry we've thinned out her family.
[Garcia manages to defeat the sister after an hour of grueling battle.]
Johnson: Now here's a pretty prize. Mm-hmm, I smell an upgrade! Plug it in, G!
Garcia: Let her go, you singing cunt! I'm coming, baby!
Johnson: After her, G-cakes!
Christopher: It's days like this make me glad I'm single. Happy trails!
[Garcia jumps in the portal chasing Justine and Paula.]
Johnson: Ooh, another paper chase! Doesn't this remind you of an old storybook?
Garcia: I don't read fairy tales.
Johnson: But look up ahead! Stay on this fairy's tail and we'll be within shouting distance of the castle!
Garcia: Do the other demons even LIKE Fleming?
Johnson: You sort of learn to fake it. He's been top demon longer than any of us can remember. A few fanatics even decided to worship him as if that would save them. Seriously creepy vibes. We're practically in Fleming's front yard now. Are you sure we should press on?
Garcia: I'm a Mexi-can, Johnson. Not a Mexi-can't.
Johnson: Bravo, G. Highly original. They're armored. You need to find a way to "flip" things to your advantage…
COME SEE SOME
REAL PYROTECHNIKS!
THEY'LL MELT YOUR FACE!
LITERALLY!
5,672,666th ANNUAL
UNDERWORLD FIREWORKS
Garcia: Seems a little masochistic, no? Why would demons go out of their way to get their faces burned off?
Johnson: Why do people bungee jump? Same question. Anyway, Fleming forces the demons to attend. He likes the smell of burning flesh.
Christopher: Don't y'all hold out on me. I can hear gems droppin' left and right out there! Take care, now!
[Garcia notices Justin dragging Paula by the hair into a building.]
Paula: Garcia!!
Garcia: Paula! I miss Paula's caprese salad. She would make that for me whenever I came back from the hunt.
Johnson: I know, it's your favorite. Although how you could have an appetite now is beyond me.
Garcia: I am always hungry for my Angel.
[Entering the building where Paula was dragged away, Garcia finds a book.]
Johnson: BEAUTY IS BLIND. Brava! Bravissima! A tidal wave of applause washed over Justine as roses rained down on the stage. It's a wonder they don't hit me, she thought bitterly. I'm the largest target for miles. After curtain-down, she retired to her dressing room, set her horned Viking helmet aside, and waddled up to the mirror with a gelatinous jiggle. There was a knock at the door, and Henry Whalin appeared. Henry again. (Geez Louise.) "You were magnificent, Miss Divangelo. Did you see? The papers are calling you the finest soprano of the nineteenth century." He looked at the floor and shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Every man in town loves you" "Stupid Henry," moaned Justine as she examined her profile in the mirror. "No real man could love a fat twat like me." She tried adjusting her midrift. Disgusting. She waited for the sigh, but today Henry's response was different. There was a rustle, a metallic thunk. "Good evening to you, my lady." She heard the clack of the door. Justine gazed wistfully at a tintype of beautiful Bella Magro, the slender soprano she idolized in her youth. What was Bella's secret? she wondered, as she picked away at a box of truffles on the table.
Garcia: What indeed.
Johnson: A few minutes later Justine was bent over the wastebasket by the door, gagging and heaving. Eventually she gave up and removed her finger from her throat. Then, at the bottom of the wastebasket, she saw the roses and the letter, and remembered the rustle and the thunk. She opened the letter and read aloud: "You have won my heart, and that is no small feat." (Oh, how sweet!) "No small feat?" she shouted in rage. "A large feat, is that it?" She crumpled up the note, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it for good measure. Something inside of her had snapped. From that moment forward, she was determined to never sing again. Her voice could go to hell, just as long as she could be beautiful. No one knows exactly what happened to Justine after that. Not the impresario, who had begged her to come back. Not the reporters, who had begged her to comment comment. Not Henry, who had been too crushed to face her again. (Correct me if I'm wrong G, but didn't Henry want to be crushed? I mean, come on! Chubby chaser, anyone?) When Justine's landlord finally let himself in, he was startled to discover a slim and beautiful woman in his tenant's armchair. She was naked, and her throat had been savaged; the blood had painted an inverse bouquet of roses on her chest. The woman held her own vocal cords in her hands. THE END.
[Garcia soon finds Paula in a small church.]
Garcia: Paula!
Johnson: Is this the part where I "speak now instead of holding my peace"?
Garcia: Shut up. Paula, it's really you, isn't it.
Paula: You came for me! I'm so happy. I can't tell you how long I've been here.
Garcia: I'm sorry it took me so long, baby.
Paula: No apologies, Garcia. You're here. That's what's important.
[They kiss. In the process, Garcia realizes that something is wrong. something crawls down his throat.]
Garcia: Hmph!
[He gasps as a long tongue crawls down his throat. Paula's body splits in two and Justin comes out laughing. Johnson pushes her away.]
Johnson: I've got ya! There there, G. Inside every good girl is a bad girl just waiting to get out.
Garcia: You want to flirt with danger, puta (whore)? Then put on your best dress, because tonight… I am taking you out.
[He follows Justin into a 2D world where he defeats her giant version.]
Garcia: Adios, Bitchzilla. In the end, your song was a little flat.
Johnson: Hey, check it out! I think I found a banging underground shortcut! This should take us right under the castle walls! Who's your skull, G?
Garcia: You are Johnson. My numbskull. You led us right into the catacombs! It's hot as hell in here…
Johnson: Yes… but it's a dry heat.
[Garcia is attacked by a demon monster with electrodes in his back.]
Garcia: Is it just me? Or is this juice jockey angrier than the others?
Johnson: He looks ready to explode. And that's not a figure of speech!
A REAL MAN
STRIKES
DOWN HIS ADVERSARIES!
SPARING LIVES WILL GET YOU
NOWHERE!
Johnson: Ugh, this reminds me of the most horrid story. A gaggle of demon hags thought they could get ahead in the world by offering to join Fleming's harem. But he was so offended by their hideousness that he ripped off the heads and used the sloppy caucuses for bowling pins. Ever since, "bowling for uglies" been one of his favorite forms of torture.
Garcia: So instead of getting ahead, they lost a head.
Johnson: This is nothing to joke about, G! Get your mind out of the gutter.
[Soon they meet zombie Paula again.]
Johnson: I think your girl's gone mental again.
Garcia: She's not mental. She is momentarily confused.
Johnson: It's times like these that I wish that guy from the cabin hadn't been torn into tiny little bits. We could use another gunman.
Garcia: At least he and his woman are together now.
Johnson: Now that you mention it, doesn't that mean his soul has been damned to the Underworld? Kind of weird to picture him as one of those babies guarding the doors… I mean… the doors. Blow up the plugs! Quick, G!
Christopher: Keep your eyes peeled for that blonde loony. Y'all got stones. But ya got any gems? Take care, now!
[Garcia soon arrives at the gate to Fleming Castle's courtyard.]
Garcia: Chingado! (Fuck!) Crowded out there. Wait, let me guess. I am going to open this door again, and ALL the demons will be gone, right?
[But of course it isn't.]
Johnson: It was a nice thought.
[Garcia kills an army of tough demons.]
Garcia: Finally. Let's go and see what's behind that door.
[He enters the Castle of Hassle. At the entrance Garcia notices a stone with engraving on it.]
Garcia: "Moor Pu Dekcuf." What does that mean?
Johnson: Must be a joke from the designers.
Garcia: The who?
[It's "Fucked Up Room" spelled backwards. Garcia proceeds to astral Rubik's cube room with laughing gravestones.]
Garcia: Who are these comedians?
Johnson: I believe they are guardians of this room. Each has the ability to control a piece of the puzzle.
Garcia: Is there any way to shut them up?
Johnson: Shove me down one of their throats, and I'll let you know. Ugh… Garcia, it smelled atrocious in there,
Garcia: What's so funny, bitchface? I don't hear you laughing now! Darkness! Why now?
Johnson: Didn't we see a goat head back on that spinner? Hurry!
[Garcia walls towards the exit through some sprinkles of water.]
Garcia: A nice, cool shower.
Johnson: Er, G… that's a golden shower.
Christopher: Well, this is as far as I go, friends. If y'all wanna conduct business, now's the time. See y'all real soon.
[Garcia take the stars to the bell tower.]
Garcia: Fuck… I hate climbing…
Johnson: Listen to you, old man!
Fleming: (from afar) What kind of man are you, Hotspur?
Johnson: Oh, sugar. The exit is blocked.
Fleming: (from afar) Your power will never measure up.
Garcia: Now where are we?
Johnson: It seems to be some sort of maze.
Fleming: (laughing off screen) So be it!
[Finally Garcia finds an elevator and rides it to his sworn enemy. He's just standing there eating a leg.]
Fleming: Be right with you, Hotspur. I've still… got some fries to go with these thighs.
Garcia: Take your time, Fleming. Please, enjoy your supper. After all… it is going to be your last.
Fleming: You really think you've won? I like that. And I see you've decided to join our revels. Care for a bite of my "last supper"… It's low in trans fat.
Garcia: What are you having? I'm sorry, how stupid of me. Who are you having?
Fleming: Why, it's your precious Paula, of course. Mmm. The skin is so soft and tender. Try some.
Johnson: Wait, Garcia! Don't shoot!
[However, he still shoots and hits Paula.]
Paula: I love you Garcia.
Garcia: Paula! Oh God, what have I done?!?
Fleming: Oh no. You killed her again. How could you?
Garcia: Fuck you! You're toast!!
[He shoots him with a machine gun, but the bullets do no damage to Fleming. He opens his cloak again to reveal Paula in a red dress. I would venture to suggest that it turned red due to blood.]
Fleming: You see? Only the prettiest women look radiant in red. This woman belongs in the Lord of Demons' bed.
Garcia: No. She will not be returning to you. Paula! You hold on for me, baby! I'm getting you out!
Paula: Gaaarciiiaaa…
Fleming: This meal is over!!
Johnson: Look out, G!
[The final battle with the king of hell begins. Garcia splits his body into several pieces and destroys each piece individually, after which Fleming explodes. At the place of his death, a huge black hole is formed spitting out various debris from which you have to dodge. When the shitstorm ends Garcia sees his beloved.]
Garcia: Paula.
[Beautiful song is playing in the background. They hug. Credits rolls. Then… Paula suddenly grabs Garcia's neck.]
Paula: Gaaarciiiaaa…
[She devours him with one bite.]
Demon Paula: Why didn't you help me? Why didn't you console me? Why did you let me die each time? Tell me WHY? If you truly loved me, why didn't you die with me? Why did you make me suffer, all alone? Don't you love me? Why are the demons after me? Is it because of you? Why must I suffer because of you? What about me? Where is my freedom!!
Garcia: Paula, forgive me.
Paula: Never.
[Battle with Demon Paula begins. She spreads her giant red wings and attacks Garcia with her love.]
Johnson: That key! Try it in the doors! We need to create an exit! Shoot her wings, G! The parts that are different! We're gonna get left behind! Hoof it, G!
[Garcia defeat demon Paula. She falls into an anus. Garcia jumps after her.]
Garcia: Paula! It's over, Angel.
Paula: Garcia…
Garcia: …I won't. The Darkness is coming.
[Everything around is plunged into darkness. Garcia's health is starting to diminish, but he still holds Paula in his arms.]
Paula: Garcia…
Garcia: I have already found my escape.
Paula: I want to see you once again, before I close my eyes… forever. I love you Garcia… I love you.
Garcia: Yes. I love you, Paula.
[They're back to their home somehow. Garcia wakes Paula.]
Garcia: Hey, sleepyhead…
Paula: Garcia, it's you… we're together… finally.
Paula: I missed you, Angel.
[They having dinner with caprese salad.]
Paula: Are you listening?
Garcia: Hmm?
Paula: About this weekend.
Garcia: Oh, yeah, Mexico. Magnifico.
Paula: Great! Let's fly into Cancun then. Spend some quality time together on the beach. Do a little intelligence gathering of our own and see if we wanna settle down there. Sounds good?
Garcia: I cannot wait to eat real Mexican food. Although, the cocineros will never be able to top this caprese.
Paula: Glad you like it. The tomatoes are organic and the mozzarella is made from buffalo milk.
Garcia: You even made hamburgers!
Paula: Well, the hamburgers come from a special recipe.
Garcia: Really? Let's see if I can guess.
[A telephone rings.]
Garcia: I'll get it. Go ahead and pick out the hotel.
Paula: Will do.
Garcia: Hello? … …Hello? Hello??
Fleming: You can tell so much about a man from what he puts between his buns. Some people play it straight with beef hamburgers. Others, I believe, go for pulled pork. And let's not forget that wonderful chicken breast. What kind of man are you, Hotspur?
Garcia: Who is this?
Fleming: In case you're wondering, my answer would unfortunately have to be "none of the above." After all, I am so much more than any man. I only throw human patties on my grill. Just like I only throw human hunnies on my bed. Ta-ta!
[All of a sudden, Paula presents a butter knife to Garcia's neck and speaks in the voice of a serial killer.]
Paula: Garcia… You're taking too long. We're still eating. Back to your seat.
Garcia: Whoops. Shit… Paula… Let's book that hotel fast. Before they get here.
Paula: Yes let's. Uh-oh… It's raining.
Garcia: You have no idea.
Johnson: They're coming, G.
Garcia: Too late to book that hotel, huh.
Paula: (screaming in pain) No. Noooo!! Garcia! Noooo!!
[Her dress changes to black one.]
Garcia: Here we go again. My name is Garcia Hotspur. Hunter of Demons. Fate has led me to fall in love with the Lord of the Underworld's mistress. His horde of minions will never stop coming to claim her. But I have sworn to strike them down, each and every one, until she is mine alone. I will take on the whole world if I must slay every creature in my path. Because I still see love in her eyes. And because I love… killing fucking demons.
Johnson: Ready, G?
Garcia: Always. Sorry, Paula. Mexico will have to wait.