Six heads in a window
blonde and brown wigs
falling forward
covering the faceless ovals
revealing their bald heads
the red and black
"closed" sign
leans against
their elongated necks

Nine spikes pierce through the back door ripping it off the hinges as a cloud wafts through followed by Pig coughing, waving his hand, his reflection dipping in and out of the oval shaped mirrors that line the walls as he stops in front of one, touches the stub of his lopped ear, turns his head to wince at the cut down his face. Mara follows behind, holding her sword, carefully scanning the room as she steps into the damp darkness of the beauty parlor.

“Can’t you do anything quietly!”

Pig tosses his rake on the counter, plops down in a chair and spins around. She stops him with her foot, her glare softening to worry.

"How do you know they can't see through walls?"

He kicks her leg out of the way and starts swiveling.

“Because they would’ve been here by now.”

She listens to the sirens, the chair squeaking, the cooing and rustling of pigeons nested in the plastic beauty sign bolted to the brick facade. A pink cabinet is on its side, one door on the floor, the other bent back revealing old aerosol bottles, small pictures of women seductively whipping their hair around. She picks one up, frowns, holds it for him to see.

“What?”

“Look what you make women do.”

“Oh, I make them do it.”

“Pigs. Men. You know what I mean.”

He groans.

"This is what you want to talk about after THAT," he says motioning to the door. “How many times do you want to…” His head falls back and his mouth opens to the ceiling. “I can’t. I just can’t with this!” He swivels in the beauty shop chair. “So I like beautiful women.” He spins all the way around and kicks his feet out. “I like beautiful young women. What do you want me to do? I didn't CHOOSE to be attracted to them just like I didn't CHOOSE to be a pig." He stops himself in front of the dresser, peels a Polaroid’s that’s been glued to the mirror.

A pair of teeth
smile back
next to a pink lamp
and a doily
the wallpaper
and the shine of the plastic
obscure her curves
soaking into the couch
and the dark yellow
clouds of emulsion

He fans himself with the photo.

"How do you think it should work? A three-thousand-year-old pig should be attracted to other three-thousand-year-old pigs?

"If you can’t change, you can at least abstain. Just the thought of…”

She shudders.

“Wait, are we talking about sex?”

“What did you think we were talking about?” Instead of answering he whips out his phone. The soft blue glow lights up his wet pig nose. "Great. Now you’re ignoring me. Why don't you do something useful and find out where we are.”

"We're in Gainesville and it's 92 degrees,” says holding it up for her to see, “and there's a little cloud with a lightning bolt so I think it's going to rain." He looks back and scrolls down. "65% chance."

"What if we make it to Big Pine and he's not there? What if he comes back and can’t find us?”

"He'll find us. It doesn't matter where we go. Pretty soon he'll come crashing through the ceiling talking about how we need to go to some god-forsaken place to do some impossible thing. Honestly, I'm glad we got separated. Gives me time to relax."

"How long has it been?"

"Two weeks? Time works differently down there."

"I know how TIME works."

"Yeah? Then stop asking questions you know the answer to."

She sits in one of the chairs and swivels a bit but can't get it going so she kicks her legs, runs her hands up and down the padding of the armrests.

"So…who were those guys?"

Pig arches an eyebrow.

"You don't know?"

She frowns.

"Don't make me ask again."

He slumps in the chair so his hooves raise up higher on the counter.

"I suppose you wouldn't know. Spent most of your time down there,” he says pointing to the linoleum. “Didn't get to see the majesty of heaven." He cradles his head in his palm. "The short version is we're screwed." He looks up trying to think where to start. "You know about Monkey and all the stuff that happened before, right?" She nods. “So the people up there," he says pointing to the drop ceiling, "are not fond of The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. They've been looking for a reason to put him back under that mountain he's always going on about. I imagine this stunt with Darlene was all they needed to send someone after him. After us. You know what I mean."

"Yes, but who?”

"The Four Heavenly Kings. Heard of them?” She shakes her head. “There's Tamon-ten, the leader. He rules the north. He was the guy with the umbrella pelting us with rain. Zōchō-ten’s in the south. The one with the sword that did this.” He traces the line down his face. "Jikoku-ten is the ruler of the east. He had that guitar looking thing. “

"It's called a pipa. How do you not know that?"

"You want to hear this or not?" She folds her arms across her chest and rolls her eyes. "I’m going to take that as a yes.” He clears his throat. “Jikou-ten plays the pipa," he says over-pronouncing, "and...who's the last one? With the serpent. He's the one we have to be worried about because he has this divine eye that can see through…” He sits up. “Damn. I guess he can see through walls.” He throws the photo back on the counter. “So the Four Heavenly Kings are looking for us and we're pretty much screwed. Might as well enjoy ourselves because once they catch us,” he leans forward, “and they will catch us, they're going to haul us up to the Jade Emperor and he’s not going to be happy," he looks down at her sword, "with either of us."

Mara puzzles over this as Pig starts scrolling on his phone. She hops out of her seat, reaches in the window, pulls out one of the blonde wigs and puts it on. He looks up.

"Yeah, that's not going to work.."

"You can transform yourself can't you?" she says throwing open up some cabinets.

"Sure. I'm not as good as Monkey but..."

She disappears in the back.

“There’s an apartment back here!” She returns in an oversized blue dress, twirls in front the mirror then her eyes narrow at Pig’s reflection. "If you say one sexist thing I'm going to open that scar across your face."

He opens his mouth, stops himself, then starts drumming his belly, sighs, then spins the chair and when it comes around he’s a young tattooed punk. She nods in approval.

"So you prefer this to my fat ugly pig-headed self?"

"It's an improvement. Let's just leave it at that."

"Because I could make myself uglier and fatter if you wanted."

"This is fine."

"So we're in our disguises. Now what?"

Mara bites her lip and squints.

"We'll steal a car.”

"Neither of us know how to drive."

"Then we'll find someone who does."

"And what about our weapons?"

She disappears in back, comes out wheeling a full-bodied mannequin, armless, glass eyes, long thick lashes and two unmovable legs that extend down to the armature base. She picks up his rake and fits it so the handle runs up her back. Pig nods approvingly as she pulls out her sword, stands in front of the mannequin trying to find a place for it.

"God damn it," she says. "Close your eyes." Pig closes his eyes as Mara sticks the sword up through the torso then runs and gets a long dress to cover her up. "Ok, you can open them."

"You don't think I know what you did? I know what you did."

"You would've made it weird."

"What makes it weird is telling someone to close their eyes." Pig looks at her next to the mannequin, the slightly askew blonde wig, the dress four sizes too big, her golden boots shining in the light. He stands, cracks his back and lets out a big yawn that turns into a stretch. "I just want to go on the record,” he says making his way to the front, “that I think this is a stupid idea and that we're going to get caught the second we step out this door.” He kicks it sending it flying into the street. “But that being said, I'm ok with going out this way."

He saunters out pushing the mannequin as Mara follows behind scanning the sky.

"No cars," she says nervously.

They walk as bits of white fall from the sky. Pig reaches up and lets one land in his palm, smears it grey, looks up to an office building with a smoldering hole, black smoke pouring out, bits of paper and ash floating down.

“I do not remember doing that.”

They stop in front of a red Pontiac. The driver, who swerved onto the median then abandoned the car, made it about five steps before a falling concrete gargoyle split his head open on the sidewalk. They stand over him as Mara crouches down. Pig, sensing a break, gets his phone out and starts scrolling.

“Don’t you ever feel bad?”

“What?” Pig throws her a disappointed look then goes back to texting. “You mean the killing? Sure. When I think about it.” He finishes and puts it in his pocket. “But then I get hungry or tired or I start thinking about something else and it goes away. How bout you?”

She stares at the man.

“Only when I see their faces.”

Pig moves her aside then steps on what’s left of his head and squishes it into the asphalt.

“Better?”

“Your impossible,” she says wandering over to the car. “Hey, he left the key’s inside.” She climbs through to the passenger seat and buckles her seat belt as Pig bends down and looks in.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s just give it a shot, ok?”

He looks at the controls, wrinkles his forehead then slumps in the seat.

“I'm driving because I'm the man?"

"You're driving because my legs aren't long enough to reach the pedals."

He slams the door, looks at the steering wheel, rotates it back and forth, turns the key and a bunch of bright lights and numbers illuminate the dash.

"I've seen people do this a thousand times," he says pushing on the brake. He tries the gas and the engine revs, pushes it down to the floor and it roars. He fiddles with a slender black arm sticking out on the side and the wipers turn on, water sprays across the windshield.

"I think you have to pull this thing," Mara says tugging the shifter. They lurch forward, fishtail down the street then smacks into a lamp post. The airbags deploy as Pig’s head is left resting on an inflatable pillow. He lifts it up just in time to see the lamp post crash into the second-floor window of the post office, sending sparks up from the street that sets a row of hedges on fire. He watches it burn then reaches down, opens the ashtray, finds a pack of cigarettes, holds it out to Mara.

“I don’t smoke.”

He shrugs. Lights one. Sits smoking awhile.

“That…” he blows a smoke ring that hovers, “could’ve gone better.”

“I can’t believe we’re so bad at this,” she says pushing on the airbag in front of her. “Two immortals and…”

“Semi-immortals.”

“Whatever.”

“We’re…immortalish.”

“That’s not the point. We’ve been on this earth for thousands of years and we can’t even drive a god damn car.”

Sirens echo off the buildings. They scoot down in their seats and peer out the window only to see a van turn the corner. The bright lights shine in their eyes as it pulls up next to them. A man's face pokes out, looks at the crashed car, the hedge on fire, the smoking building and the sparks shooting out from the base of the pole.

"You guys need some help?”

Before the words leave his lips Pig’s thrown the mannequin in back and Mara is climbing in. He slams the trunk then joins her in the backseat.

"Pretty crazy," the guy says weaving around abandoned cars, mailboxes blown off the bolts, glass covering the sidewalk, dark green awnings ripped to shreds and hanging.

"Crazy," Pig says. "What's your name buddy?"

"Billy.”

“We’re Billy too,” Pig says winking at Mara then mulling it over. “I’m a ‘y’ and she’s an ‘ie’. He looks around the interior. “Nice van.” The second row of seats has been pulled out and the mannequin is lying face down behind him. He reaches back and arranges her dress so the sword is covered then notices a bundle of rope, some nylon ties and an ax lying to one side with plastic bags inside other plastic bags marked with red and black X’s.

“Sorry about the mess.” Billy says nervously. “Haven’t had time to clean.”

Pig turns around. Laughs to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Mara asks quietly.

“I'll tell you later.”

“Are you guys brother and sister?” Billy asks looking in the rearview.

“No, we’re a couple. We come from a religious sect where it’s ok for grown men to marry children.”

“Oh.” Billy looks confused.

“I’m just fucking with you Billy. She's my sister. How bout you? Is there a Mrs. Billy out there?”

"Mrs. Billy. Uh. Yes.”

"Where'd you meet?"

"We met..." They pass a sign for the beach. "At the beach."

“That's a great story Billy. We met at the beach too," he says putting his arm around Mara who immediately squirms away.

"I thought you were brother and sister?"

“We are, but my mother, God rest her soul, gave birth on the beach and I was the one that delivered her.”

“Oh.” Billy scrunches up his forehead, not sure what to say. “Neat.”

"It is neat. Pretty damn neat.” Pig leans forward putting his elbows on the seats in front of him. "You've really got a way with words Billy. Has anyone ever told you that?" He looks up nervously, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. "Where are you taking us? You never asked where we were headed."

"Right. I…forgot. Where are you going?"

"The Keys," Mara says.

"That's...far."

Pig leans back in his seat.

"Billy, I'm going to tell you something and I want you to listen real close." Billy nods as he turns onto 441 South. "My sister and I have been on the road for a while, and when you're on the road you get a sense for people. You develop an intuition. A feeling. And you learn to trust that feeling, even though sometimes it leads you astray. You ever been led astray by a feeling Billy?" He nods but doesn't answer. "That's what I like about you Billy. Man of few words. Why elaborate when you can just nod. Not many people take advantage of a good nod but you strike me was a man of tradition. Am I right Billy?" Billy nods uncertain what he's agreeing to as he takes the Sweetwater exit. "Sweetwater," Pig says reading the sign. "It feels good to say what you see. Ever noticed that Billy? Like, right now for instance, I'm sitting here and I see a sign like this one up ahead and then I say it right as we pass. Waffle House. Just like that. It feels good to say it out loud. Say it with me Billy."

"Waffle House," Billy says rolling through a stop sign.

"Feels good, doesn't it? Why is that Billy? Why does it feel good?"

“Leave him alone," Mara says elbowing Pig in the ribs. “If you’re trying to impress me it’s not working.”

The van pulls into the Sweetwater Wetlands then loops around to the main building, which is deserted. Billy pulls over and parks in a small gravel lot, turns off the car, takes a deep breath and pulls out a gun, points it at Pig and Mara.

"You think you’re real fucking smart don't you? Do you feel smart now? You feel like running your mouth now? Everything’s just a big fucking joke to you. You act like you’ve got it figured out. But you didn’t figure this out did you? Well, the ride’s over pal.”

"The ride’s over," Pig repeats back then over to Mara. "He thinks we’re pals.”

"Get out of the car!"

Pig turns so he’s facing her.

"What do you think we should do?"

Mara shrugs.

"We need to get to The Keys and he knows how to drive."

"Yeah, but it's five hours. Do you really want to spend five hours with this guy?"

"He's got a van and the mannequin’s in the back."

"Damn.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I forgot about the mannequin.” He looks over to Billy. "You got us in a real pickle here Billy. On the one hand, I gotta say, I don't really care for your conversational skills up to this point BUT I'm also incredibly lazy and I gotta say, this whole," he waves his hand around, "whatever this is, has me intrigued."

Billy pushes the gun against Pig's head.

"If you say another word I swear to god I'm going to..."

Pig smiles feeling the steel of the barrel against his forehead.

"Which God Billy? You know there are a lot of them up there and I gotta tell you, and this is going to hurt,” he leans forward pushing the gun with his head. “They don't know who you are. I mean, look at all these people." Billy looks out at the empty park. “Not right here. On the planet. It’s a lot to keep track of.” Pig puts his hands on the headrests, the guns still poking into his head. “Do you have a favorite rock group Billy? Do they still call them rock groups?" he says looking over to Mara, who is doing her best to ignore him. "What’s your favorite rock group Billy?"

"The…the Rolling Stones?"

"You said that like you were unsure. Your voice went up a bit at the end like it was a question. That's fine. The Rolling Stones is a pretty boring pick Billy. Basic. Isn't that what they say now?" Mara is still ignoring him. "The Rolling Stones have a lot of fans. Lots of people want to meet Mick Jagger. But he's only one man and he only has so much attention. It's the same up there," he says pointing. "People are under the impression that gods are infinite, that they're all-knowing and all-seeing. But that's not true. Gods are just like Mick Jagger. They have God problems and their God problems are a lot more complex than Billy problems, you know what I mean? So when they get up in the morning they don't say to themselves, 'How's Billy doing? I wonder what I can do for Billy? I really need to make sure Billy's life has an arc that's meaningful and satisfying.' See what I mean?"

Mara lets out a deep sigh.

"I'm getting bored. Either kill him or let's get on with this."

Pig nods.

"What's your plan here Billy? Doesn't seem like a robbery. You some kind of serial killer? Are you planning on dragging us into the woods, cutting our heads off and rearranging our bodies into some freaky altar because you had a messed up childhood that, I don't know, made you weird inside? Are you weird inside Billy? You some kind of pedophile trying to take advantage of sweet little Mara here? Because I've got news for you," he leans in sending Billy scrambling back, "she's a little older than she looks."

"What is wrong with you! You're both insane!"

"We're insane? You just picked two people stranded in the middle of a disaster and drove them out to a park to do god knows what. And we're the crazy ones." He sits back in the seat and puts his arm around her headrest. "You're right though. There is something wrong with me. Should I show him what's wrong with me? You want to see what's wrong with me, Billy?"

His body starts to shake, his belly enlarges as his face mutates into a hideous looking Pig.

"OH FUCK!"

"Oh fuck is right, Billy. You are about to have the worst day of your life, and the first thing you can do is stop waving that ridiculous thing around and put both hands on the wheel in front of you. Can you do that for me?"

Billy pulls the trigger and a bullet goes into Pig's shoulder, who lets out a yelp, thrashes around in the backseat, then grabs the gun and throws it on the floor. He looks at the giant bruise on his shoulder, a little blood trickling out.

"Did you know they could do this?"

"I've never been shot before," Mara says still staring out the window.

"Damn! These things have gotten stronger."

Pig hits the seat in front of him sending Billy's head into the windshield. A small crack spiderwebs out as his body falls into the passenger seat.

"Great. You killed him."

Pig reaches over and pulls him back up, his head falling limply to the side.

"He's fine."

Billy's vision fades to black as he hears the murmuring of Pig and Mara’s voices, the opening and closing of doors, birds calling from the swamp then…nothing. His eyes slowly open. The fuzz and blurs come into focus as he realizes both his hands have been duct-taped to the steering wheel. He tries to pull them off but they won’t budge. He looks down and his torso is duct-taped to the driver's seat, looks to his right and Mara is sitting in the passenger seat holding his gun. A monstrous-looking Pig is in the rearview, splayed out in the back eating a bag of Taki's, his fingers and lips red with melted powder.

"Oh God," he lets out and starts crying.

Pig finishes the bag, making sure to get the last of the crumbs at the bottom.

"I was wrong about you Billy. I mistook you for a Cool Ranch man. I said to myself, ‘A man whose favorite band is the Rolling Stones must like Cool Ranch Doritos.’ But you surprised me. Fuego Taki's. Nice.”

"Don't listen to him," Mara says poking him in the chest with the gun. "Drive."

Billy looks at his hands.

"I...I can't shift."

"Damn," Mara says looking back at Pig. "We forgot about the gear thing."

"Shift it yourself," Pig says throwing the bag on the floor.

Mara tries but it won't budge.

"You need to turn the key first," Billy offers.

Mara turns the key then shifts it all the way down.

"It's got to be where the R is."

She looks at the letters and shifts it to R. Billy pushes on the gas and they pull out.

"Now you have to shift it to D."

She shifts it again as they loop around and get back on the highway.

“Look at us,” she says smiling back at Pig. “We’re driving!”