The police are here. While I would've liked that double pay, I guess I will let them handle it. There's a few police cars, maybe more than I would've expected. Although, why are they taking their time to set barriers before putting a stop to this? It doesn't matter, not to me. This is don-

"Attention everyone present! This zone is officially closed off for the time being, until either side subsides!" Why? Why, who and what compels the police to let this go on further?

"Just in time, brother!" The old man cried towards the chief of police, hidden behind the almost closed door of his house, condoms breaking all around the wall of his house. "As long as I'm the mayor of this city, no one will interrupt!". This is no longer a simple war between a pretentious punk and a mad old man. It's the next in line of a multi million dollar company against the very mayor of the city.

People are gathering around the barriers, wearing masks. They want to see how this will end? Personally, not really. And boss should know by now that his punk of a son is the one causing this problem. In other words, no point in me being here any longer. *Bzz bzz bzz* boss...oh no.

"Christian," this is getting worse, why is he not screaming? "You're there, aren't you?"

"I-"

"Don't try to deny it!!" there he is. Although I wasn't going to deny it. "Anyway. You probably met my son, you can see how much of a sweet angel he is," angel my ass "so I can't have him fight against that dusty old mayor. It will bring my reputation into the ground.". So he says, yet I never heard of his company outside my workplace. "Point is, Christian, you need to put a stop to this.".

"Sir, why do I have to-" the pause was natural. He usually interrupts me, yet he didn't? Then, "why do I have to stop this?"

"You know too much," yikes, this almost sounds like he wants to get rid of me amidst the war, or get a valid reason to fire me. "Which means, you're the only one fit for the job.".

"What do I get?" I don't know where that surge of confidence came from. Maybe the past few days that were way too strange for me, maybe understanding what's at stake. Perhaps, it's the memory of Elise trying to man me up against boss. Whatever it is, I feel alive once more.

"A promo-" I cut him off this time. Adrenaline is rushing through me. The first surge of confidence let my years of boiling resentment for my job come up. I didn't have the time to build up the force to tell him to his face, but now I had plenty of rest, all the cards are on the table. Give nothing, take it all.

"A recommendation...to another post to another company!" This is it!

"You don't me-" I could get used to stopping him like this.

"Handwritten," aghh, I feel unstoppable right now. "If I stop this war, I want my double pay, the handwritten letter of recommendation and for Markus to be fired!" the final nail in the coffin.

"Deal.". War? World's ending? Kids starving? None matter. I will escape the hell I've been living the past four years, by stopping the War of The Condoms. Now-ahh! My knees, my hands, they're shaking! Must be all the adrenaline washing off. Wait, what did I just do? I promised to end the war...how the hell am I going to do that?!

1 hour later

"Finally, they've stopped to drink water and eat," I guess in war, rations are important. Although, I'm no sure how they can eat with this *blegh* smell lingering all around the area. "Their will must be that unbroken, which means," they will not stop. Not now, not anytime soon. "What should I do?"

"Shut it dork! He will hear us again!" what is that? To my left, behind those bushes.

"If he sees us, I can build a contraption to pull us out of this," those brats. And they have a camera again.

"Kids," I approach the bushes "can't you see that this is no place for you?"

"And who are you to tell us that, wanker?" I'm driving back my urge to pick him up like the little bag of red shit he is and throw him in the middle of this.

"W-we were just trying to film you get all smudge in c**," the 'smart' one censored the words for the fatty with bleeps? And what vile behaviour from these kids. Who is letting them rung wild like this?

"You won't get any of that kiddos. Now scramble back home, before I tell your moms what you're up to," that should scare them like before.

"No, bitch," this red dressed midget, testing my benevolence. "Our moms are not even here, dumbass. Do you think they want to smell the sp*** you creepy ass weirdo?" his luck today is that my body decided to push all my energy towards me confronting boss.

"And what if you get caught in this? What will you tell your moms, that puberty hit a bit earlier?" try to argue against that you-

"Actually," here goes the smartass "we have privilege as war journalists.". As if that's a thi-they have permits with the mayor's signature?! Shouldn't their parents know about this?

"By the way, you cuck," I have to meet eye to eye with whomever lets this runt run his mouth like that "shouldn't you stop the war like the obedient pig you are?" Besides the foul words, they listened on me talking with boss. Though, this seems like an opportunity.

"So, you three are war journalists. That means, you must have access in the camps while the fire ceases, right?"

"You bet we do, piece of shit," just hold it in.

"How about we make a deal," if there's something I know about kids, is that they will do anything for a couple of bucks, even if they don't understand the value of money. "Ten bucks for each of you, and I have access to the information you gather.".

"Hal-half the salary," the fat one drives a bargain?! "W-we heard you talk with y-your boss," I knew since the first time I had to watch out for this one, but I wasn't expecting him to be as cunning as messed up.

"Half my salary is too much, even for such crucial information," that should make sense to them, "besides, what are you going to do with that much money?"

"Drugs, bitch," wha-what are these kids?! *slap* the 'smart' one slaps the midget from the back.

"It's not really smart to tell him of our intentions," so you want to buy drugs?! "And for the aforementioned point, it's not just information. Privacy also," tsk, maybe I underestimated the smart one. "We won't tell our moms that you gave us money to get stuff for you," maybe just slightly underestimated him. But I still can't allow anyone to know of my involvement, besides these kids, the punk, old man, boss... the list seems to grow larger.

"Half of half my salary," that would be enough for one month of weekly drugs. Maybe I shouldn't quantify my salary in drugs per week.

"D-deal," the fat one agrees. We shake hands to settle our agreement.

"Now, go out there. Tell me everything there is to know about them," and off they go. The midget alone for the punks, and empty glasses and fatty towards the old mayor.

2 hours later

This is taking far longer than I thought. Did they find out about my deal with the kids? Perhaps they're now war hostages. Maybe it's for the best that they died befo-nevermind. They both come out of the camps at the same time. The midget from the skating hole, the fatsy and empty glasses from the mayor's house. We stood behind the bushes, placed ourselves in a circle. "Spillt, what you got?"

"T-the mayor is low on a-ammo," not that many condoms left ay? I guess holding himself inside the house has its drawbacks. "B-but he smiled after. T-told us of a s-secret we-weapon," that doesn't sound good. Whatever that old mind can cook up, is probably through extensive thoughts of mediaeval warfare tactics and the like. "H-he also said that, t-there are reinforcements i-incoming," that's not good. If those reinforcements arrive, this may extend the war, or even tip the war in his favour. Wait, but that would mean the war will end right? Not good, I must be the one putting a stop to this, otherwise, it all goes away.

"Those pieces of shit said they will have a refill on ammo soon enough," vile yet informative. "But shat themselves saying they lack manpower. Something about 'unfavourable' war conditions, weak ass wimps," I see. They have the advantage in terms of supply lines and area of cover, but they're exposed.

"I say the war favours the old man, by my estimations," the little Einstein wannabe says. It does seem that way though, his opinion aligns with my own. "I would say that by tomorrow, the old man will launch the final, decisive attack upon the punk faction," given everything I heard so far, seems to make sense.

"W-what will you do, m-mister?" good question. There's a lot of variables on the table, and it doesn't seem like I can do a whole lot to put a stop to this. Tough spot to be in.

"What if you join the punk side?" empty glasses proposes.

"I don't see what that could accomplish.".

"The whole point is to stop that punk from fighting, virgin," that's uncalled for, and I know that. "So how do you expect to do that, if you stand here like a dumb hoe. Help the punk to win, and the war stops. The praise is all yours, dumbass," good point from this pea-sized human being.

"I see," not a bad idea. "This has been worth my money. You three take care, I'm going in," and I leap out of the bushes. The area is brewing with the criminal smell left by all the life juice spread in the sun. They also seem ready to launch a full scale attack soon. Now that I look at the middle portion, it seems to almost form-there's no way. "A crosswalk," I say as I stand, the kids confused below me, as they can't tell what I'm looking at. "Amidst the chaos, pain and suffering, nature finds a way," and what a beautiful, deranged way to build such a crosswalk. *Clap* I slap my face. I must end this war, can't let these temptations take over me. "But I will cross you over, children of war," pay my respects to such an act of beauty.

As I make my careful way towards the punk camp, I see it, laying naked and smelly in the middle of the road: a crosswalk. "I must temper my desires," my nose can't hold much longer either way, the smell is just that strong, even when I hold my breath.

"Stop right there or you're going to get defiled!" Penk warns me.

"It's me Penk!" I raise my hands, my face red from holding my breath.

"I know, I saw you staring like an idiot from the bushes at the road," god dammit.

"I want to join your side, help you defeat the old man," he starts letting the half filled small condom down, considering my words.

"Why the change of heart?" he asks, unaware of the new deal with boss. Perfect.

"He tried to kill me yesterday, remember?!" I cry to him, reminding him of some unsettled dispute between us, although I don't care about it.

He didn't seem totally convinced, but looking around him, seeing the few remaining punks, he probably felt like he could use any help coming for him. "Very well then, come on bro, let's get you suit-" before he could finish, his attention was distracted by the doors opening on the other side of the road. It was the old man, a bunch of old people too, in their hands, XL condoms with large condoms strapped to them, then standard, then small. They were tied with special kinds of knots, the kind you wouldn't see anyone bother coming up with. He launches one with a large crossbow, modified like all the others, the cluster of condoms so heavy, it had to be launched upwards, so it would form an arc. The large, standard and small ones spinning around the XL one.

"Grenada!!" someone screamed. They all abandoned the skate hole, I ran with them away towards a further away hole. As I look behind, I see the splash. It hits the wooden planks placed as defence, but it doesn't matter, the large one explodes, covering a whole plank, while the smaller ones spread all around, spraying juices on the concrete and inside the hole. If anyone was in there, the trauma might've not washed off for months after. Soon after the first one, more rained down.

"Retreat! To the second row!" Penk refers to the smaller, more distant skate holes. They are skating away, doing tricks for no reason along the way. Once inside one of the holes, half of us, the other hide in another, we draw our breath.

"Dude, that's messed up. I'm done with this," one of the punks protests. "Me too!" another raises, then, soon all have left me and Penk.

"This is not good Penk, it seems like this war might-" he is smiling. His troops are scattering, yet he's smiling. Why is that? "Penk, do you realise what's happening? You probably lost the war just now!" yet he laughs harder, his mind might've broken with this loss.

"Old fools, young fools. All of them Christian!" yeah, outright mad. "Thinking this war can be won so one sidedly? This! This is a mere fight I lost, nothing more," yet there's not one besides you and me to fight. This is a massacre Penk, wake up to reality...

"Calling-calling-do you receive Beta 2?". What is this? From inside his backpack, the sound of someone communicating through the radio.

"Beta 2 here. Beta 2 here," Penk pulls up a large military radio and answers.

"Delivering multiple packages as requested, landing target on position?"

"On position. Deviation, one degree west. I repeat, deviation one degree west," I couldn't have guessed that a punk like Penk knew how to coordinate an ai-aircraft?! Is this an actual war?! He turns and smiles at me, "The rewards will be great, for you sided with the to be commander of the local navy!". The navy, of course. That explains the power of boss' screams. "And with connections to the HSDB or, Horse-" so that's how he was going to win this. Horse juice.

*Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud* two smaller containers, and three really large ones parachute down. Kicking and whines of horses coming from the inside of the large ones. From behind the skate park, many figures start showing up. Some are wearing suits, some are wearing gloves, all of them are wearing gas masks.

A tall, muscular man, maybe in his twenties, buzz cut, salutes Penk. "Sir! We brought the veterinarians, strategy advisors and support personnel!" This is getting way too serious. Maybe I still have time to-

"Bezz, this is Christian. He's been hired by my father to help me, but he doesn't care about that anymore, he's here to enact revenge upon the old fool and his troop of dinosaurs!" too late.

"Sir!" don't call me sir! "Let us discuss the plans for what's to come!" let us not. "Soldiers!" they salute him "Raise the war tent! Ensure there's nothing wrong with the ABS plastic!". They respect his command and get to work. The old man sees all this, ceasing his attacks. He probably can tell, this is no longer a simple snow battle, not that it was after the police got involved, it's all out war. They are going to use every resource in their capacity to win, evident by the fact that the old mayor is on the phone, probably talking to these 'reinforcements'. There's also the secret weapon. I doubt that the cluster bombs were all he had, he's way too much of a mediaeval warfare fanatic for him to show off all his cards as of yet. He probably expected a siege, since long ago, now becoming more visible with Penk's arrival of troops. In all of this, I have to wonder...how in the nine circles of hell am I supposed to end this, when it escalates at every step?! I'm also at the central point of every escalation. Maybe it's the me factor that builds up to the worsening of ot.

"Sir!" stop that. "We erected the tent, let's begin the war meeting!" war meeting. In what kind of desolate world do we need war meetings for such things?

"Look, Penk, Bezz," they both look at me. Better suffer some mild consequences before I'm dragged into it too deep. "I don't think that I-"

"Wow. You're his friend, asshole?" the kids?! I forgot they're journalists in this war.

"C-can we join? W-we need to make o-our reports on the w-war," I would deny access if I were Penk, but I doubt he will.

"Of course you can. People must know in detail how we won this war. Not with petty tricks, but cunning and bravery!" there's no bravery in fighting with condoms!

"Anyway, Penk. As I was sayi-" hollow brain interrupts me.

"Did you know we told him to join you sir commander?". Traitor! "We told him everything about you and the mayor," shit. His running mouth just denied me leave.

"Is that so?" him and Bezz look at me, the kids as well! I can't deny it. But if I don't, then I can't leave, he will think I will join the mayor, try to sell information or something.

"I-uh, yes. I have all the information," I had to confess.

"Well, good thing you're on our side. We wouldn't want you in the old man's side, for I might ensure you never find work again! Hahahaha!".

"Hahahaha!" I laugh along, trying not to cry.

"Sir commander! We intercepted a message, best you hear!" a man from inside the tent called.

"Let's go kids, Bezz, Christian," sir..yes sir. What can I say.

*How large?* one of the voices coming from a radio says. *Could cover the entire park. But we need two more days* sounds like the secret weapon.

"You hear that Bezz?" Penk looks over the round table as he listens, maps of the region placed all over.

"Yes sir commander, atomics," I guess you could say so. Although, knowing by now how the old mayor acts, it's not atomics. It's some other mediaeval atrocity.

"How long until our own are ready?" we have 'our' own atomic condom bombs?!

"Three days, sir," I guess they arrived too late.

"The old man will definitely launch it as soon as it's rea-" they all look at me? Oh shit, it escaped my mouth!

"Well spoken Chrisitan," Penk pats my shoulder. "So we must prevent the old bones from using his weapon," how? And why am I getting into this. Is it the male urge for war that strong?

"What are you suggesting, sir commander?" isn't it obvious?

"A total front assault," I slam my fist on the table, not realising the war demon possessing me.

"But sir, that would need a lot of-"

I slap Bezz's face across the round table, he doesn't flinch. "Don't we have horses?! Use them!" Penk puts a wide smile on his face.

"Do as he says Bezz. He's not here for nothing, he wants to win as much as we do," damn right I-well actually. I do want them to win, but I also wanted to leave before I got myself deeper into this. Now my involvement is more direct. How I wish I could enjoy a nice crosswalk now.

"Sir yes sir!" he salutes, accepting the command.

"Now we need to get go-" *Splash! Splash!* heavy fire ensues from the residency side. Looking through the only transparent plastic window within the tent, there they are. Mini ballistas, two old people for each, using four of them through the windows of the houses. Launching large bolts, with tips of condoms, inflated in such a way that they seem they might pop at any moment. "Don't stand around fools! Bring out the automatic rifles!" sounds like new condom technology. And sure is. The bullets are mini condoms, made of sturdier plastic. Instead of gunpowder, they have the mysterious liquid, when shot, the bullet leaves a small trail of the liquid, and on impact, splashes its full contents. Truly, a marvel of modern technology.

Twenty shooters against the four ballistas and twelve crossbow users. The war, once more, resumes at full scale. The Mod-Punk side uses modern shields to defend, advancing back to reclaim the tainted zone. The elderly side launch a relentless attack, not allowing the 'punks' to advance more than a centimetre or two. The *splash* two on the punk side, three on the elderly, they got drained in the liquid. They will need to back off and wash themselves before rejoining, if they have the mental stability to do so anymore. Amidst this chaos, peeking through right ahead, I can still see it. The crosswalk, now more etched into the street, expanding on both sides. As if the war has chosen this majestic pattern for me, as if to...draw...me...in