Binkedge continued to toss and turn in bed, his sleep plagued by nightmares, as the screeching in his dreams grew louder. Suddenly, a loud knock at the front door jolted him awake, his eyes flying open.

“Oh, wonderful. I wonder who the fuck that could be,” he sarcastically said to himself.

Pulling open a drawer, Binkedge eyed the gun he had inside. “Maybe…” he considered. But instead, grabbed a large yellow rubber band and golden brass knuckles. “Can’t risk getting charged with murder or something,” he decided, pocketing the items.

Binkedge trudged out of the bedroom to the front door. Opening it, he found the tax collector, just as Jazz had described.

“Hello, sir. What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck do you want?” Binkedge demanded rudely.

The man looked a bit surprised to his attitude. “Wow, you’ve got quite the mouth on you, buddy.”

“Just tell me what you’re fucking here for. I’m very tired,” Binkedge said impatiently.

The man cleared his throat before speaking, “As you should know, my name is Rocket, and I work for the renowned entrepreneur, Inkedge, known throughout Blacktin Town.”

Standing there, Binkedge showed he was unimpressed. “Never heard of either of you dicks.”

Rocket’s voice held a tinge of disappointment. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, never have,” Binkedge replied bluntly.

Undeterred, Rocket continued, “No matter. From reviewing Inkedge’s charts, I found you haven’t been paying dues in Blacktin Town for some time. I must warn, Inkedge grows terribly angry when people don’t pay their dues, leading to unfortunate events.”

Binkedge gave a snicker as Rocket spoke.

“So, I’ll ask this once, where’s Inkedge’s money at?”

Slightly, Binkedge tapped the side of his head. “Let me get this straight, you want me to pay to live in Blacktin Town?”

“Correct,” Rocket answered.

Binkedge’s voice rose in anger. “Listen here, asshole! I don’t live in Blacktin Town. I live on the outskirts of it. So you know what that means, right?”

Uncertainty crept into Rocket’s tone. “What does it mean?”

Quickly, Binkedge stepped forward, pushing Rocket away from the door. “It means I don’t have to pay you shit, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it, dickhead.”

Calmly, Rocket brought his hands together. “It would be much easier if you reconsidered. Just pay up and there’ll be no problems.”

Unmoved, Binkedge spit directly in the middle of Rocket’s face. “Fuck you. I lost my job today, so the money I do have is going elsewhere, not to a rich asshole.”

Grabbing a napkin from his pocket, Rocket wiped the spit from his face. “I’m very sorry we couldn’t see eye to eye on the arrangements.” He tossed the napkin to the ground.

“Yeah, well, fuck off. I’m going back to bed because I’m in no mood,” Binkedge said, walking away.

“Don’t walk away from me, asshole!” Rocket shouted.

Stopping, Binkedge turned to face him. “What the fuck did you say?” Backing up, Binkedge watched as Rocket closed his eyes and squeezed his hands, pushing. “What the hell are you doing, dude? Taking a shit or something? Do that somewhere else, dildo head.”

Suddenly, a missile popped out from the metal pack on Rocket’s back.

“Oh, sick dude! Get the hell out of here!”

The missile shot out from the pack, rocketing skyward. Binkedge could only watch helplessly.

“Stay there, blue man. I don’t want you to miss this shit,” Rocket sneered, moving out of range.

Before Binkedge could react, the missile plummeted down, slamming into his house in a devastating explosion that reduced it to rubble. Binkedge barely escaped, his body hitting the ground as the blast wave washed over him.

Rocket stood by, grinning with twisted delight at the destruction he caused. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Stunned, Binkedge slowly sat up amidst the smoldering wreckage of his home. “No! No! You just blew up my fucking house!” he yelled out in disbelief.

“I know. Next time, I’ll do more than that if you don’t pay up,” Rocket threatened.

“You just pissed me off, dildo head!” Binkedge shouted, rage burning in his voice.

“What are you going to do about it?” Rocket taunted.

Binkedge pulled out the large yellow rubber band from his pocket, stood up, and fired it, the projectile whacking Rocket square in the face, causing him to stagger and drop. “You took my rubber to the face, bitch!” he yelled triumphantly.

Rocket struggled to rise from the ground, his expression twisted with hatred. “You’ll pay for that, you little blue freak!” he snarled.

“Bring it, dildo head!”

“Insulting me will be your downfall!” Rocket roared. Before he could fire another missile, a stray gunshot struck him in the back. “What’s going on?” The impact ignited the gas tanks on Rocket’s back, causing a fiery explosion that sent him blasting into the air, away from Binkedge. “I’ll be back, motherfuckers!” he yelled as he disappeared from sight.

Stunned, Binkedge could only stare in shock at what had just occurred. “What the hell? Someone helped me? But who would do that?” He slightly glances around his surroundings.

Emerging from the forest, six men in colorful mafia suits and wearing duck-bills approached Binkedge. One man in a blue suit, cigar in hand, broke from the group and stood before Binkedge. He inhaled deep, then blew a puff of smoke directly into Binkedge’s face.

“Don’t fucking do that,” Binkedge said, waving the smoke away.

“The name’s Louis, and as you can see, we’re the Duck Mafia,” he says while taking the cigar out of his mouth and putting his bill back in place.

Binkedge eyed Louis and his men warily. “Are you joking?” he scoffed. “Whatever the fuck you weirdo’s are, just leave, I’m done talking to you freaks.” Turning to walk off, Binkedge froze as the sound of guns being cocked echoed behind him.

“Hold it right there, bitch,” Louis demanded.

Slowly, Binkedge faced the group. “Nice guns.”

“Thanks,” Louis replied. “Now about that payment you owe us, it will be one hundred thousand dollars, plus extra for calling us in the first place to help.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I never called you freaks!”

“Oh yes you did, my blue friend.” Louis produced a folded paper from his pocket and shoved it in Binkedge’s face. “I have the number right here.”

Snatching the paper, Binkedge scanned it. “How did you get my information, you fucking asshole?”

“We always ensure the information is accurate,” Louis said, his voice dripping with menace. “So, let me warn you, if you don’t pay, you’ll die a slow and agonizing death.”

“You think I’m fucking made of money or something? I lost my fucking job and have nothing left, fuck head.”

Louis’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t care how you get my fucking money, but you better find a way. You have until tomorrow, or I will fucking kill you. Do you hear me? Fucking kill.” He shoved Binkedge to the ground. “Paul, why don’t you show him what we did to the last guy who refused to pay our services.”

Reaching into his pocket, Paul brings out a photo and shows Binkedge, making his eyes widen in disgust. “Oh my fucking God!”

“That’s right,” Louis says with a dark chuckle. “Remember, tomorrow blue face, or your asshole will end up the same way.”

The Duck Mafia lowered their guns and walked away, disappearing into the forest.

“Remember tomorrow!” Louis shouted over his shoulder.

Binkedge watched the men vanish, then slowly stood up. “Motherfuckers!” Glancing at his destroyed house, he picked up a single nail and stared at it for a moment before clenching it in his fist. “Fuck, it’s all gone! I lost everything in there. Maybe I should’ve put my cash in the A.D. Bank,” he said, voice tinged with despair. “Shit, I better try to make some money in town somehow, but fuck, I really don’t want to.”

Collecting his composure, Binkedge pocketed the nail and set off towards Blacktin Town, feeling his journey uncertain.

…