“Names Cleetus Clifton Carson or like mah friends down in the mud pit like to call me triple C.”

  “I am not much for introductions, but might as well introduce myself to this here void I am in.”

  In an empty void, a figure is floating alone, talking to himself. This person is Cleetus. Cleetus’s feet are bare and covered in mud; he is wearing some worn-out and tattered overalls covered with mud and blood.

  He takes a deep breath, and his hairy naked chest is filled with air; tiny droplets of blood are covering his thick unwashed, and tangled beard. His bald head is sweating from what he experienced before.

  Black hair now brown covered with mud. Cleetus slowly brings his right hand up to his beard, then he notices that his hand is missing. ‘Must have been that damn shotgun.’

  He takes another deep breath to calm himself, and he uses his other hand, only to see them missing. ‘OH man, did a fucking gator take a bite out of this when I fell in the damn river!’

  Just when he was about to screech into the empty void, he heard a door opening up. He knew that sound anywhere, the sound of a rusted metal door cracking up.

  Cleetus saw a small crack of light penetrating the void; it feels like he was in a dark room, and finally, someone opened the light. “Is this the light at the end of the tunnel?!”

  The door opened up, and a skinny guy wearing a uniform of some kind walked in; he was whistling a toon and dragging a mop with him. Then he stopped and looked at Cleetus.

  Cleetus is still floating. Look at the guy. “Hey there.”

  The guy slowly lowered his mop and began sneaking towards Cleetus. ‘What in tarnation is this guy doing? I can see him… is he still whistling?’

  When the man finally reached Cleetus, he stood up and pointed at his right chest. “My name is Timmy!” He screamed.

 Cleetus reared back. “Alright, man, chill.”

 Timmy did not chill; he screamed more. “MY NAME IS TIMMY, MY NAME IS TIMMY!”

 Just when Timmy was about to scream his name a third time, a voice from the door stopped him. “Get the fuck out of here, Timmy! You were fired two weeks ago!”

  A short man with a sweaty suit walked in; on his feet are concrete shoes. His skin looks pale and in his mouth is a wet cigar.

 Timmy started whimpering and ran away from the small man. Cleetus looked at the small man approaching him. He slowly sat down on a metal chair that squeaked.

  The small man lit up his cigar and took a deep breath, then slowly he exhaled black oily sludge, which covered his suite with filth. He looked up at Cleetus and nodded. “Name?”

 “Cleetus Clifton Carson.” Cleetus replayed while trying to repose himself better.

 The small man moved his fingers, and Cleetus was placed in a sitting position; he could see the pool of blood he made. “Occupation?”

  “What now?”

 The small man sighed. “Your job, son.”

 “Oh, moonshiner.”

 The man nodded. “Family?”

 “About one hundred and fifty, I reckon… Well, I did not count uncle Bubba on account of him marrying a black girl, but mah mama said he is not family no more.”

The small man gave him a stink eye. “What are you some kind of racists now?”

  Cleetus grew nervous. “Wha… No, I am no racist!”

 The small man summoned a small folder and started skimming it until he stopped at a page. Then he pulled a photo. “Then what the fuck is this shit?!”

  In the photo, a couple of Klan members celebrated, and in the background is Cleetus, who was drinking some blue-ribbon beer. Cleetus sighed in defeat. “Come on, man, I just went there for the beer! And they were having a BBQ… It's free BEER!”

  The small man sighed. “Jesus, they are getting dumber and dumber.” He folded the photo back and took another puff. “Fine, don’t get your panties in a twist, now last question. Where do you want to go?”

  “Hugh home?”

 The man gave him an unamused look, and he tapped his cigar. “Nope, it won’t work. You died.”

  “Wait, how did I die again?”

  The small man sighed and snapped his fingers; a broken old TV popped up next to him; the small man hopped from his chair and began playing with the TV antenna.

  After a while in black and white, a movie started playing, with old-timey music. It showed Cleetus working on a moonshine boiler; next to him were his friends Ford, Don, Lil Don, And Big Donny.

  Then He saw himself standing up in alarm and running into the woods; a black screen showed with text. “Run, it’s the fucking cops!”

  It showed Cleetus running and running, he fell down on some mud, and one of the cops pulled out a shotgun and shot his right hand, but Cleetus ignored the pain and ran some more; he found a river and jumped.

  Cleetus peaked out from the river and looked at the cops searching for him, but then he started thrashing and screaming from the pain; an alligator bit his left arm off. Suddenly the music stopped, and a black screen with a smiley face showed up. “Died from blood loss.”

  The small man sighed and snapped his finger, and the TV disappeared. “Well, there you have it; this is how you died.”

  Cleetus looked at the empty place the TV was on and shrugged his shoulders. “Welp lives by the shine and dies by the shine, I’d say.”

 “What the does not make sense… Never mind, I don’t have all day, so where do you wish to do?”

  “I don’t know, man. I mean, what is going on right now?”

  The small man sat down again. “Look, let me explain this shit, so basically when people die, they get assigned to a department, each department fulfill the person’s wish. Now, as you can gather, we are not fucking rich.”

  The small man began pointing out the flaws in the room, the squeaky and rusty chair, the old black and white TV, the leaking roof of the void room, and finally, he pointed at himself. “I mean, I am doing this gig because I was a bad apple; the mob killed me when I fucking snitched; now I am just waiting to get more points and finally be assigned somewhere else where I don’t have to look at some ugly mugs like yours.”

He took a puff from his cigar. “So, because you did a couple of good deeds, you were assigned to the lowest of the lowest department, ours.”

  Cleetus rubbed his head with his still bleeding stump. “Aight, I get it; so what now?”

  The small man screamed in frustration. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, JUST PICK A PLACE ANY PLACE! I WILL SEND YOU THERE!”

  Cleetus grew angry and screamed. “FUCKIN FINE YA BITCH! SEND ME TO SOME HUNTING PLACE!”

  The small man stopped, and slowly he started laughing. “You fucked up, buddy. Now other departments send you guys with a gift, like food, shelter, powers, and the likes but not us. We are broke as fuck; we can’t even hire janitors anymore. So, we are going to send you in blind.”

  Cleetus grew nervous. “Fuck man, can you at least fix my hands! I don’t want to die again.”

  The small man looked at Cleetus again, and a small amount of pity escaped his dark eyes. “Fuck… Fine TIMMY!” From the door, the skinny Timmy ran in and saluted the small man. “Fix him up. I am going to open the portal.”

  Timmy nodded and approached Cleetu’s hands. He pulled out a bottle of alcohol and poured it on the stumps; Cleetus watched the stumps magically stop bleeding, then a thin layer of pink skin grew. Finally, Timmy stopped and smiled to himself.

  Cleetus looks at the small man; next to him is a green portal; on top of the portal is a sign. ‘Hunter X Hunter’

  Cleetus waved his arms around. “Hey, augh, I still don’t have hands!”

  The small man shrugged and walked to Cleetus. Then, he took hold of his feet and dragged him to the portal. “Not our job, son… Don’t die.” Suddenly he pushed Cleetus into the portal, and the next thing he knew was darkness.

 

 

   

     Cleetus opened his eyes, he looked at a small creature that looked like a crocodile hatchling, but it had small white feathers and eyes bigger than its head. He saw the crocodile looking at him.

  The creature walked up to him, and it gazed at his eye. Then without warning, the tiny creature opened its maw, and he saw ten small tentacle-like tongues attach themselves to him.

  Cleetus jumped from fright and started thrashing around; he banged his head on the ground freeing himself from the nasty crocodile. He opened his eyes again to see the tiny creature limping away from him; the beast turned its head and hissed at Cleetus.

  “What the fuck is that shit!” He stood up and looked around; the ground was covered in green mud. He could see small plants floating in the mud, the trees around him produced blue gas, then in the distance, he saw a wooden cabin covered in weird black moss.

  He slowly looked around more and more; he saw creatures he never saw before. Plants, fish, rocks, and weird shit.

 Slowly he moved through the mud; while walking, he could feel strange creatures rubbing his bare feet.

  Fearing for his life, he walked faster and faster. Finally, the cabin was near him, and just as he was about to sigh in relief, he heard a gurgling sound; Cleetus turned his head. A massive twenty-foot monster, covered with blue feathers, its massive jaws opened and roared, twenty tentacle-like tongues thrashed around.

  He saw one of the tongues move and hit a small tree, sending it into the air and leaving nothing but a broken stump. So Cleetus did the only thing a proud red neck like himself would do. He screamed like a little bitch and legged it. “FUCK!”

 He ran towards the cabin, and he could feel the earth and the mud shake with each step it took.

 Cleetus ran and ran; he turned his head and found the monster getting really close; he swallowed, and he looked ahead. “Come on, Cleetus, you can do this!” So he jumped from a mossy rock and into a small stream. And finally, when he crossed the stream, he jumped on a rock and leaped across to the cabin.

  Cleetus smashed into the wooden border of the cabin; his breath was knocked out of him, panicking. He turned around and saw the monster rushing, its mouth wide open. It had this gleam in its eye, and Cleetus knew that he was done for, just when the monster was about to reach him, he heard a tiny tick from the cabin, and a rope launched out from the window. On the rope, he saw a jar filled with a strange liquid. The pot smashed into the monster, and Cleetus heard the monster yelp and run away from him.

  Cleetus sighed in relief for whoever saved him; he placed his stump on the mossy wooden floor and pushed himself up. “Fucking hell, what the fuck was that!” he breathed some more, trying to catch his breath. “I need a drink.” He moaned.

 Cleetus touched the black mossy walls of the cabin and traced his stump on it; he gently approached the wooden door and pushed it.

  A small amount of dust scattered from his entrance, and he looked around; he saw a bed made out of black moss, the same as the one outside. He saw a kitchen or what counted as one; it's more of a hole with stones. Dried leaves are hanging by a string.

  Cleetus took one step in and looked up; he saw a huge amount of contraptions, jars, wires, and more. He slowly dragged himself next to the bed and sat down.

  The bed made a sloshing sound, and he knew that it was filled with liquid. Then, just when he was about to relax and think of all that happened to him, he saw a book on the nightstand.

  Cleetus took a small peak. He saw letters he never knew before, but something happened; the letters shifted and changed themselves to English. “Earthling’s guide to HXH world, by Hamza Al-Haroon.” This caught Cleetus’s attention. “What the hell? We have Arabs here?” He slowly moved his stump to the book and flipped it to the first page.

  The letters on the first page started shifting from that weird language to Arabic and finally to English. “Hello! You miserable bastard. I hope you survived the fall. HAHA! Sorry, it's an inside joke me and Dave always tell each other, isn't that right, DAVE!?”

     Cleetus saw a drawing of a doll with an arrow pointing out that it was Dave. “Fucking hell, he is mad too.” But he continued reading. “Now I am sure that you are weirded out and mad from the department for dropping you in like this, but hey, you have to ask yourself, Is banana pudding better than chocolate pudding? THE ANSWER IS FUCKING NO; MEAT PUDDING IS BETTER!”

  “Sorry, my mind went in the wrong direction, so, yes, Basically this is an introduction on how to survive this fucked up anime world you found yourself in. Keep in mind the department is horrible at its job; so far, only I survived the fall because I am a badass motherfucker… I may have been lucky. ANYWAYS!”

  “I built this nice place, survived, and saw more people falling from these damn portals. Heck, even at 2 AM in the morning, they drop them! FUCKING ASSHOLES, LET ME SLEEP! But we are getting off track; I tried to save them, but… look to your right and see this blackboard I made.”

  Cleetus turned his head and saw a board filled with lines. “Yeah, for every line, it is one hundred people.” Cleetus stopped and counted, then he grew pale. “Yup, one hundred thousand bitches died instantly HAHA! As you can read, it made me quite unstable. I really did try to save them, but fuck is it hard!”

  Just when he read this line, he heard a scream from the outside. Cleetus jumped from the bed and peeked out, just to see the same monster holding five people with his tongues. First, he saw the monster tearing their bodies, splashing blood all over the place, then the monster slowly began chewing on them.

  Cleetus grew nervous and sat back down. He opened the book again. “Now, I am sure you will try the same, but here is my advice, use my fucking cabin. Recover and learn my fucking lessons; I hope you read the fucking manga because if you didn’t, this book would help you! HAHA MANGA SOUNDS LIKE MANGOS HEUEHUEHUE!”

  Cleetus shook his head and looked up at the sky. “Why.” Then he heard another scream from the outside. “Fuck it, I hope this Arab knows what to do.”