Oenus was ecstatic!

It had been a while since he and the dragon talked about ‘wheelmen’ and, finally, after all this time, Eta’s new meat suit was almost ready. A good thing, too, since Thomas’s remains were nearly gone. Other than himself, Eta, and Thomas’s remains, he had nothing left to feed Mister Jenkens.

And if Mister Jenkens didn’t get his dues willingly, he’d take them by force and devour the remainder of Oenus world. His little town was barely making ends meet as it was.

Just having his world devoured wouldn’t have been so bad. Oenus already resigned himself to abandoning it when Eta ascended to godhood. He planned to join her in the world she’d create as an ordinary bunsack, letting her take care of him for all eternity.

However, if Mister Jenkens devoured his world before then, Oenus would be devoured along with it, no matter where he was. The biggest issue with becoming a god was his fate was now tied to his world’s. If his world truly ended, so would he, at least, if he was a god at the time.

That fate scared him more than anything.

He’d caught a glimpse at Mister Jenken’s grisly machinations when that cunt first arrived. It was bloody chaos, that cunt determined to make up for lost dues. After he collected, all Oenus was left with was his little town, the one he’d surrounded by walls and a ceiling so he’d never have to see those grisy machinations again.

Caught up on his debt, all Oenus could do was make sure it stayed that way. Once Thomas was devoured completely, he’d have to resort to more—uh—extreme measures, measures he wasn’t ready to take, yet.

The flesh of Oenus’s current god bod had power, loads of it, the last of his true fortune. The flesh of bunsacks simply couldn’t compare. And, though Eta’s new meat suit would be strong, it wouldn’t be enough. And Oenus was determined to give her every advantage he could.

As soon as Eta became a god and gave Oenus a true name with her blessing, he’d be free from this place, just another ordinary bunsack to be taken care of for all eternity.

He sat on the roof of the retirement home, preparing to celebrate the good news with Eta. Thomas’s head was cradled in Oenus’s lap while he scratched his old friend’s eyeball affectionately.

Eta would need one more advantage when she created her world. Though the last part could wait, Oenus was simply too giddy to hold back.

He pricked his finger on Thomas’s tooth and turned ‘Prometheus’s Jumpstart Guide’ to the back cover. With the blood squirting out his finger, he scrawled:

  'Wheelmen aren’t stoo—'

Shit! What an expensive mistake. He started over, and with the blood squirting out his finger, he scrawled:

  'Wheelmen aren’t stupid.
  'To Eta.'

With that dedication and the power in his godly blood, Oenus was satisfied. Now, not only would Eta know what to do with the book, she’d be capable of reading it on her own. He wrapped the gift in a Christmas tree, completely satisfied with his decision.

“Genius,” Thomas said.

“I know, right?” Oenus replied to his dead friend.

Granted, he had to work his friend’s mouth for him, but it was nice to have someone other than himself to talk to.

“You should have done this ages ago,” Thomas said.

“It’s not everyday a savior is born,” Oenus replied.

“Best begin the festivities. Eta deserves a grand entrance.”

“Totally agree. After all, it’s Christmas! My savior is about to be born!”

Christmas wasn’t a holiday that could be celebrated often, the book was clear on that. Oenus set his friend off to the side and picked up his handsaw. The saw wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, but Oenus figured it’d work great for sawing through wood, too.

For he had a grand entrance to make! Happy, happy Christmas!

*****************************

Sometimes Scrub-bucket slid through the door, other times he crawled through the window. Eta thought she had him all figured out. That was until today. Today, Scrub-bucket used the ceiling.

Her knitting was interrupted by a handsaw scraping through the wood above. At least, it sounded like a handsaw. The tiles of the drop ceiling obscured her view of the roof, but it didn’t take long for all her doubts to be put to rest.

Right in the middle of her room, a square chunk of the roof crashed down, exploding wood and foam bits all across the floor. A haze of dust engulfed the spot and Eta’s jaw fell open. Her first thought was quickly replaced by a second, then a third and a fourth. By the time she got to her twentieth, the situation began to make sense.

Scrub-bucket was out of a job.

His infamous boss was a dick. The bossman might not mind his radio contraption or the banana can phone, but this scene, cutting the building apart with a handsaw would likely be the final straw for her precious Scrub-bucket. That fellow always seemed to be on thin ice with management and, now, his job was toast. They’ll still let him visit, right? Please don’t be too hard on him, Boss.

Even that concern was quickly replaced by an deeper one. As the dust settled, Scrub-bucket knelt in the middle of the floor, posing just like the superhero entrances outlined in his book. It took half a beat for her to realize the pose wasn’t intentional. His leg, the one curled back behind him, was completely shattered. It warped like a noodle, flaps of skin displaced by bone shards jotting through.

She’d never seen a broken leg before nor even heard tell of a real one, but she’d read about them. What the book said about them was terrifying.

Her mouth agape, Eta kicked herself for staring so long. She tried to roll over, to crawl out of bed, but her body wouldn’t move. It was completely useless.

All she could do was call for someone worth more than herself. “Boss! Boss!”

Lifted out of the haze of chaos, Scrub-bucket stuck his hand up like it was some kind of puppet. He worked it around like it was scouring the room for the source of Eta’s screams. Eventually, it settled on her.

“What!? What is it?” His puppet mimed. “I came running! What…what is the meaning of this?”

In her panic, Eta answered. “I don’t know! I don’t know! Scrub-bucket—he’s always been such a good boy. Please, help—” What the fuck?

Eta left her last plea hanging in the air. She’d just answered a hand puppet.

“Sorry, Boss,” Scrub-bucket said.

Shouldn’t he be screaming in pain? That’s what the book said would happen.

“This—this is coming out of your check!” His hand puppet yelled.

“You poor bastard! You haven’t paid me in weeks,” Scrub-bucket replied.

He shouldn’t talk to the boss like that…wait, fuck! It’s a puppet. He’s just so convincing.

“Argh!” Hand puppet attacked Scrub-bucket’s face. Scrub-bucket fended him off with…a miniature tree?

Isn’t that tree from Hank’s window display? Now, he’s got Hank to deal with, too. Not just the Boss…fuck! It’s a puppet.

“Please, stop!” he cried. “You’re gonna ruin it. Don’t hurt the tree.”

His hand puppet stopped. It looked at Scrub-bucket, then at Eta, then at the tree.

“Hmph,” it scoffed. “She deserves at least that much. I’ll let it slide this time, but if it happens again…don’t let it happen again.”

Scrub-bucket nodded frantically. She even saw relief on his face. Holding the tree straight up in the air, he dragged himself across the floor, scooting through all the debris as he crawled closer to Eta. With an ‘umph’ he pulled himself onto the bed, his noodle leg flopped up at the wrong angle.

She’d always wanted to get him into her bed, but this was ridiculous. His hulking frame curled into a little ball at her feet and he rested his head on her knees. Right then, Eta cursed herself. Perhaps it was the shock, but all she did is watch him struggle up the side and never offered to lend a hand, not that her hand would do any good.

Hold it. His leg. Where is everyone today? Shouldn’t he have attracted everyone’s attention with that stunt?

However, the facts were the facts, no one was coming. Thinking of the only solution left, she snatched the banana can off her nightstand and pulled the string tight to her ear. Before she could even get out a single ‘bwing’, Scrub-bucket shoved the mini tree in her face.

“You like it?” He asked.

What…you know what? This fucking kid. Ridiculous. His careless attitude, quite frankly, pissed her off. Why did she care more about his injury than he did?

She dropped the banana can, knocked the tree out of her face, and grabbed both his ears, wrestling his head off her knees. He didn’t resist, which was good, she hadn’t the strength to fight him.

Forcing his eyes to look at her, she said as sternly as she could muster, “I know you like your games and I love you for it, but this is too far. You’re leg—”

She swallowed her stomach bile at the sight of it and continued her scolding. “You need to take care of yourself. This is ridiculous. Get your shit together.”

The look he gave her after she said that last part, it was haunting. There wasn’t any anger. His face just slumped further than she thought possible.

“…” He grumbled something.

“Speak up, boy,” she forced herself to chide.

“I said, I know.”

Hearing that, it took every ounce of her self-control not to pull him into a hug and rock him to sleep. And not sexually mind you. There wasn’t even the mildest urge at indecency, right now, he needed her.

Useless as she was, Eta racked her brain for a solution. Nobody was coming, that was for sure. Why, she hadn’t a clue, but the facts were the facts. The banana can was her only option. She let go of his ears and his head nearly fell onto her stomach. He caught himself right before it landed, like some barrier prevented him from slumping down there. He pulled back and curled over her knees once more.

That was fine. It freed her up to do what needed to be done.

She picked the banana can up from where it dropped and pulled the string tight to her ear.

“Bwing, bwing,” she said. “Bwing, bwing.”

Oh God, please answer! Someone, anyone.

After the fifth bwing, a gravely voice came on the line. “Yellow?”

“Boss? Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” She could hardly contain herself.

“Boss? I like that.” The voice paused. “You got your balls in a vice?”

“What? No, no, I need help. Please send somebody to Shady Oaks. I’m in room 102 and my…my dear companion shattered his leg.”

“Oh? You got a bunsack with a shattered leg? How did that happen?”

“Superhero landing.”

The gravely voice merely grunted. Either he had no idea what that meant or he thought it explained everything.

“That’s beside the point,” Eta urged.

“Lop it off,” the voice replied.

So callous. Eta pleaded more and more, but his answer never changed. She would have kept going, but Scrub-bucket pulled the banana can slack, ending the conversation.

His expression was still slouched, but he pushed the mini tree toward her again.

“Open it,” he instructed.

She was torn. He didn’t even seem to care about wearing a noodle leg. It didn’t pain him in the slightest.

“Your leg—” she began, but her voice fell flat after eyeing the tree.

Determined as he was, it seemed he’d gone through all that trouble just to bring her a present, though his methods…

He forced a grin. “Leg’s no problem. It’s tenderized. See? Quit fussing, it all worked out in the end.”

Eta grabbed one of his ears, gently this time. “I’m only going to open it after you get some help.”

“You are helping me.”

 

***********************************

‘She keeps talking about my legs, even called Dragon about it’

‘They are magnificent.’ Oenus answered himself.

‘I know.’

‘And tender. She’ll appreciate that.’

‘Maybe she’s worried about all the little bone pieces?’

‘Those aren’t hard to pick out, she’ll hardly even notice them.’

It took a lot of back and forth before Oenus managed to talk her into opening his gift, and she had a lot of trouble unwrapping the Christmas tree, but the look on her face when she saw the book, it was priceless.

Okay, it was actually clueless. What to say…this was their first Christmas, together. She was probably overwhelmed.

‘Or she hated it.’

‘Shut up!’

Christmas would take some practice to get good at. After all, it wasn’t a holiday that could be celebrated often. It’s not everyday a savior is born. Hopefully, they’d have plenty more Christmas’s together in the future as Eta advanced along her path.

She’d like the next gift better.

After their little party, Oenus hopped out of the room on his good leg. The relief Eta showed when he left bothered him more than it should have, but that was fine. A god didn’t need to like her bunsacks. That would just maker her job harder than necessary. Nope, Eta didn’t need to care about him. He just needed her to eventually care for him.

That was the true spirit of Christmas.

Giving gifts to his future savior was easy. Heck, he’d even gift her his realm if that would do any good. Unfortunately, this place was doomed the minute that cunt showed up.

The walls around the town and the ceiling kept Mister Jenkens out for the most part, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. Really, that protection was worthless, but it kept everyone from having to see those machinations. That cunt was…maddeningly scary. He knew that from a glimpse.

This place might be doomed, mostly because Oenus was unsuited for management, something Boss was all too keen on reminding him about. But Eta, she was the best of the best. She had to be. She was the only one left.

‘That also means she’s the worst.’

‘Okay, she’s the best of both the people in existence here.’

‘That goes without saying.’

‘Then why’d you say it?’

‘Cause I knew it’d piss you off.’

He didn’t even need to worry about getting saner anymore. Dragon was going to help them. Of course, he would. Dragons had a weakness for rescuing fair maidens, that was why Oenus sought him out, and Eta was as fair as they came.

‘Mister Jenkens is also fair.’

‘He’s a dick and cruel.’

‘But he’s fair as long as you pay those dues.’

Oenus hopped down the hall and into the kitchen. It had been a long time since he used this place. Eta probably forgot about food the same way she’d forgotten about sleep.

He found the biggest cleaver there and plopped his butt right on the counter. His squiggly leg took some effort to get up on the chopping block, but he managed.

She’d like his next gift better. Oh! Maybe he should even cook it? She’ll appreciate the extra effort. He didn’t want her to be disappointed again.

Eta needed all the help she could get, and Oenus was determined to give it to her. After Thomas’s remains ran out, Mister Jenkens didn’t need to devour all Oenus’s god bod, right? Surely, he could spare some for Eta.

What was that recipe for Barbie-skewers, again?

Even if she didn’t appreciate the book, Eta would like the next gift better. She needed to grow up big and strong.