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Various beeps and vibrating rhythmic noises muffled the conversation that the spacesuit-clad, helmet-wearing Sam and Max were trying to have with one another inside the dimly lit space rocket cockpit.
Their smiles at each other absorbed into their veins, mixing with the two's adrenaline as they sat side by side, seatbelted in space-age chairs.
Time seemed to slow down as Max turned his smiling head away from Sam toward the cockpit windshield. Suddenly the gravitational force of the rocket propelling away from the Earth pushed the spacesuit-wearing rabbity thing into his seat a few inches.
Blackness flashes and lingers for a moment...
Suddenly scenes shakenly scatter to the surface of the Moon. The faint sound of Max's voice calls to himself, saying other incoherent broken messages somewhere in the void as the short white Rabbit knelt, on one knee, tightly grasping his chest, with labored breath and one closed eye. Max raised his head slowly and saw a sporadic, scattered area of the Moon before him.
A concerned and frightened Sam seemed to push against the lack of gravity and time toward Max, fading in and out of the small Rabbit's weakening sight. The Dog's muffled voice becomes louder, calling for Max while the Rabbit's surroundings quickly turn black.
Max's voice says in the blackness, "Never fight the wind."
Smiling, humming, and adjusting his tie, Sam walks into the bedroom to the tall mirror on the wall parallel to their bunkbed, where Max is thrashing, kicking, and waving his arms around in his sleep.
"Well, little pal, I'm off to my date with Sky again, giving her another chance...-- I see that you are preoccupied ." Sam says. Sam brushes his suit jacket down, sighs walks to the tall dresser, and opens the top drawer.
During Max's moans and violent thrashes in his sleep, the bathroom's light slight glow lines the bedroom door's frame. Sam's humming blends with water filling a glass, and Max's struggles within his slumber.
The humming Dog walks into the bedroom, retrieves a bottle of prescription medication from the dresser's top drawer, and then sits on the edge of the bottom bunk bed. With his back turned to the distressed Rabbit, Sam continues to hum and then starts tapping his foot. The Dog opens the bottle with his thumb, shakes two pills out, presses the top back on, tosses the bottle on the bed, and then scoops Max into his folded arm.
Sam slaps the pills into Max's mouth, causing the Rabbit to cough and blink his eyes open.
Max blinks rapidly, looking around the room with blurry eyes. Before the Rabbit can respond, Sam pours the water down his throat. Swallowing the pills, Max sits up in Sam's arm as Sam pats and rubs Max's shoulder while the Dog looks away from the Rabbit as he places the half-empty glass on the side table.
Max rubs his mouth, sighs, and looks up at Sam.
"We--It felt so real--" Max stammers, looking down at his shaking, open white hands.
"Sam--I mean, Max... We both determined your slumbering hysterias are nothing more than conceptual fantasies formed from an undersized twisted brain trying to reason the numerous immoral life choices forced on various communities and Gyro carts of its adorable owner." Sam says, patting Max on his shoulder.
"Now, if you would excuse me," Sam says, gently putting Max on the mattress as he stands.
Max sits up in bed and watches Sam while the Dog takes his hat off and starts humming again. Sam combs the hairs on the top of his head with his large fingers. Max tightly grips the cover, lowers his head, and darts his eyes around.
Before Max can say anything, Sam walks to the bedroom entrance. The Rabbit looks at the humming Sam, drops his head, and then rubs the back of his large oval head.
" Ahh ... Sam... Don't forget to take the umbrella! The only one we have and share ...?" Max says in a low tone.
"Thanks for the reminder, pal!" Sam smiles.
"You know, this, Sky, that you have been seeing, could come over here," Max says, looking at Sam from the corner of his beady eye.
"That's awfully courteous of you, Max. However, tonight is of special importance for particular grown-up activities that, if someone is reckless enough, may be willing to share with you someday." Sam smiles.
" Aww , Sam...--Just say Dry cleaning ... We are all adults!" Max groans, crossing his arms.
Sam pauses, blinks at Max, and then shakes his head. "Goodnight, Little pal. If you need me, press the panic button between the nightstand and the bed there! And don't fret; that medication should kick in a few moments."
"Don't you wanna see if it does kick in? I may set a blaze--or--or break--break the time and space barrier or something!" Max says, smiling at Sam.
"See you in a few hours, little pal," Sam says, leaving the bedroom.
"Goo--... Goodnight..." A frowning Max says, blinking slowly at the open, empty doorway of the bedroom.
The sound of the front door closing makes Max shutter. The Rabbit lowers his head and holds himself. Max suddenly rushes to the panic button and stops his hand millimeters away from it. Max blinks a few times, falls on his belly to the mattress, and then drops his arm off the side of the bunk bed.
"Goodnight, Sam... I hope you get your jollies off picking between starch and pressed pleated pants."
11:39 p.m. Somewhere on the border of Connecticut and New York.
A weeping woman with her hands bound behind her back and a small burlap bag on her head, secured with a rope around her neck, sits up with her legs curled close to her in the dark clearing of a forest. Two large thuggish men dressed in blue and grey suits and fedoras stand on either side of her.
The woman raises her head at the sound of a car parking a few meters from her. The vehicle's headlight brightens the brown sack threads over her head. She nearly hops out of her skin and starts sobbing again with the car door slamming. Each grass-crunching footstep owned by its humming owner hits her like a hammer to an anvil as they approach her.
She sobs, kicks, and screams as the person's large thumb pulls the rope of the burlap bag from her neck. The thug to her right takes ahold of the top of the sack as the humming person cuts the cord with garden shears.
The thug pulls the sack off the woman's head. "No--Oh--Oh, thank goodness--Sam! Sam, You're here to--" The counselor tearfully says.
"He's still having nightmares..." Sam says, reaching into his jacket pocket.
The counselor pauses with widened eyes and a jittery lip. Sam puts a cigar in the edge of his muzzle, hands the thug the garden shears, and then reaches into his pants pocket.
"Sa-Sam...--It had been a long time since I have seen you and Max before that appointment, and then I'm really--YOU SAID I WOULD BE SAFE!" The counselor cries.
"YOU SAID MY LITTLE PAL WOULD STOP WITH THAT CLOSED-EYE CRAP!" Sam yells. He then backhands the woman with a silvery metal lighter in his hand.
The two thugs laugh and chuckle as the counselor drops her head and hyperventilates as tears fall from her eyes beneath her disheveled hair. Sam stands up, pats her head, and then snaps a disapproving look at the laughing henchman to the woman's right.
The other thug clears his throat and stops chuckling.
"Unlike these hired cowardly former mafia hooligans, I don't consider drumming a woman's face witty," Sam says. "You have to understand. I thought you understood--When it comes to Max--"
"I-I know you..." The counselor nods rapidly.
Sam pauses, dropping his eyes to the counselor. He then lights the cigar and puts the lighter back in his pocket. The Dog looks forward and pulls out his large magnum.
"So you knew and still failed me... After I took care of you and the people around you..." Sam sighs, clicking down the hammer of his gun.
The weeping woman pops her head up to Sam and his weapon. She shakes her head and pleads with him.
"As a living being, there's no assurance of life after death. After a blow to the head or eating expired deli meat, I have occasionally seen heaven and hell. Nonetheless, I feel those are nothing but inventions from the sown seeds of western society's perception of paradise or eternal damnation." Sam says, waving the gun around in his hand. "Let's be scientific--"
Sam shoots the counselor just under her neck. The woman drops backward on her bound hands, weakly kicking and choking as blood pours from her wound. Sam kneels to the dying woman's side, changes the gun to another hand, rests the wrist of the gun-holding hand on his upward knee, and then pats the pale woman on the side of her face.
"If there is some old Roman--European standing outside a golden--pearly gate and beyond that a God , ask 'em to forgive me for my vices. However, if you are more than likely damned to Hell--Tell Satan to make room for me." Sam says softly, patting the woman's face again.
Sam stands and starts to hum while he walks toward the DeSoto as the thugs put the freshly dead woman in the grave. The Dog leans through the driver's side window and clicks on the radio.
"Oh--Me and Max love this song! Morning! Today's forecast calls for blue skies; The sun is shining in the Sky; there ain't a cloud in sight; it's stopped raining--! Everybody's in the play--- HEY HEY --And don't you know, it's a beautiful new day--Hey, hey, hey! Running down the avenue--" Sam sings and jigs beside the vehicle. Sam looks up at the Sky and apologies that they have to keep meeting under such bloody circumstances. He then asks the Sky to dance with him.
An hour or more later--
On his third cigar, a jacketless Sam sits on the hood of the car as the two thugs finish burying the deep grave of the counselor.
Sam smiles and says, "Ah--!" then shoots the Hooligan to the right in the foot.
The thug screams and falls to the ground grabbing ahold of his foot. The other criminal shakes in fear, dropping the spade to the ground.
"Now do two more, around your size--Make sure it fits!" Sam smiles."
"Come on, pal--Sam, we have been working with you for more or less half a year!" The frightened criminal pleads as he shakingly picks up the shovel.
"It's rude to leave a lady unescorted," Sam says.
3 a.m, Sam and Max's residence.
For the past few hours, Max had been having trouble falling asleep. He was finally drifting into slumber when the telltale sound of the front door opening and shutting and a singing Sam sturs him awake.
"Sa-Sam?!" Max says to himself, blinking.
" I want a clean shaven man. I want a clean shaven man. If he's short or tall, doesn't matter at all, He doesn't have to be too sharp to be my razor man. I want a clean shaven man. I want a clean shaven man Oh, how I'd behave when he takes a shave--" Sam sings as he walks through the house.
"Saaam!" Max cries.
" Hm-hm-hm-hmhm-hm -Oh, hey, little buddy!" Sam smiles. "Still not asleep?! How will Santa put gifts in your grungy socks or under the juice-watered tree?"
"It's May, Sam...!" Max smiles.
"Oh-ha-ha--Where does the time go?! After a good morning's respite, we better hit up the flower shops and back alley vendors that operate behind Pathmark's dumpsters for Mother's day gifts." Sam says as he changes into his pajamas.
"*Whisels* The height of luxury! Someone's a big-time spender! Had a good time with this Sky doll, huh?" Max smiles.
Sam pauses, then folds his shirt and places it on the dresser. Max smile retreats as he watches Sam rub the back of his head and rush to the bunk bed.
"Oh--That's what you get for being such a do-gooder and giving people multiple chances." Max laughs.
"Yeah--I sure do--" Sam says. "I don't--this time I wont--"
"Nevermind that for now, Sammy. I'll ridicule your appetite for transient company later; let's get some shut-eye, huh?" Max smiles.
Sam shakes his head and climbs toward the top bunk when Max grips the Dog's Pajama pants. Sam stops and looks down at the looking-away Rabbit. Sam shakes his head, hops off the ladder, and then waves his hand at Max.
Max scoots to the other side of the twin-sized mattress as Sam lays beside the little Rabbit. Max pushes himself under the cover, facing away from Sam, when suddenly Sam moves his arm under Max, wrapping the Rabbit in an embrace close to his chest.
Max looks up at Sam, blinks a few times, lays his hand and the side of his oval head on the Dog's chest, and then falls asleep with his friend.
To be continued...