From Yesterday

“Look alive sunshine.”

Sweat poured down a young man’s neck as he fiddled with the dusty radio knob, electric blonde hair matted to his forehead.

“Hurry up will ya?” his dark haired friend demanded impatiently.

“I got it!” he exclaimed triumphantly as a clear sound emanated from the speakers.

“109 in the sky, but the pigs won’t quit. You’re here with me, Dr. Death defying, I’ll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter. Pumpin’ out the slautomatic sound to keep you live, a system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan. Louder than God’s revolver and twice as shiny. This one’s for all you rock and rollers, all you crash queens and motor babies. Listen up!”

A rush of screaming guitars and voices in harmony blared in what could only be described as rock and roll music. The four men scattered throughout the cluttered garage bobbed heads to the beat in an appreciative manner as they prepared for the road for the millionth time. But this wasn’t an ordinary road trip, far from it, for these were not ordinary men. They are the Killjoys.

There’s Party Poison the leader of the gang. He’s strong, determined, and always has a plan, but his determination is often swayed by his emotions. Fueled by anger and hatred, he is more poison than he is party. A troubled soul out for vengeance against those who wronged him, nothing can bring him down.

Jet Star is always recognizable with his huge poof-like Afro hair. He is the quiet genius, the man behind the curtain, or simply the brains. He is always tinkering away trying to create new gadgets to help them with their mission, and he has a big heart.

Fun Ghoul, what words to describe him? He’s crude, rude, and you’d be lucky to catch him without a cigarette dangling between his lips. He isn’t afraid of anything, and he couldn’t give a shit about what you think. He’s often underestimated because of his size, but that’s never stopped him from tearing down what ever is in his way. Albeit his tough exterior Fun Ghoul is a great guy, even if he does try to hide it.

Last but certainly not least, there’s Kobra Kid, the little brother of the gang. Literally Party Poison’s younger brother looks up to his older sibling immensely, and will fight for him until the end. His gangly frame, and hyperactive antics are always entertaining the group. He really is the baby brother of every Killjoy.

Now how does their story unfold? I don’t think I can tell you that yet, you’ll just have to wait and see.

This brings us back to the present, except this time a few miles away from the Killjoys’ dusty garage. A girl lays breathing heavily on a dirt road, she’s not sure how long she’s been there or if she’s even still alive. Finally tired of the rocks pricking at her flesh, she pushes on her elbows with all her might, lifting herself into a standing position. Her bright blue hair hangs lifelessly around her face; she wipes her chin and spits blood from her mouth. Only a few short hours ago this girl was nearly killed by his henchmen, our poor rebel heroine was nearly beaten to a pulp. But if this girl is anything it isn’t weak, a simple beating can’t slow her down.

She looks herself up and down to examine her injuries, nothing but a few cuts and bruises. Nothing she hadn’t survived before. Her light gray T-Shirt was slightly ripped but still wearable, and her already torn jeans were solid as ever. Her eyes searched the ground around her until they landed on a shiny purple object. She jogged over to her previously discarded ray gun, and cradled it gently. She inspected it for damages, but it was fine so she stuffed it into the back of her jeans.

When she turned around she was faced with nothing but the blinding sun, and a never-ending dirt road. This was a pretty common sight out in the Zones. She raised her arm over her eyes; it was a weak attempt against the bright sun. The sweltering heat hit her from all sides as she plotted her next move. She was about to turn and head west when she heard the sound of loud music coming towards her. She spun around quickly, and spotted a dirty white car with a neat black spider painted across the front. The man driving the car spotted her and slowed to a stop.

“Hello?” he called out to the mysterious girl. She turned and started to walk in the opposite direction again. “Hey, wait!” he said and drove up along side her at walking speed.

“Look, just leave me alone,” she stated, not even glancing in his direction.

“You look hurt, can’t we drive you somewhere?” Party Poison, the driver of the car, continued to pester the girl.

“I don’t need your help,” she hissed though gritted teeth, before turning to glare at the pink haired man.

“Come on, you can trust us,” he pleaded.

“You can’t trust anyone these days,” she replied bitterly.

“She’s got a point there,” Fun Ghoul chimed from the back seat.

“Alright, I’ll get in the fucking car,” she gave up, and jumped into the back seat.

“Great,” Party Poison said before driving again. “Well I’m Party Poison, that’s Kobra Kid,” he gestured to his brother next to him who smiled lightly, “Jet Star,” he pointed to the man with the Afro who waved, “and Fun Ghoul,” he nodded in the direction of the man next to her.

“Well, Hello,” Fun Ghoul said, looking the girl up and down. She gave a disgusted sigh, and rolled her eyes.

“So, do you guys always pick up random chicks off the side of the road, or is it just my lucky day?” the blue haired girl asked dryly.

“You look pretty beat up, plus you look like one of us,” Party Poison stated.

“And you would be…?” She trailed off.

“Killjoys,” he replied.

“You guys are the Killjoys!” she nearly jumped out of her seat. They all nodded in agreement, slightly amused by her reaction.

“What about you, what’s your name?” Fun Ghoul asked once she’d calmed down.

“Danny, Danny Danger.”