Chapter 2

Tired of twiddling his thumbs, Pintear decides to test drive his new limo out on the never-ending lines of bitumen that lie begging to be caressed by his tires. The walk downstairs seems more enjoyable now that he feels there is some purpose to his existence. Stepping outside, he sees the sun is shut out, clouds pour over the sky casting a gray glow to the land, yet this does not dampen Pintear's chipper mood.
The limo bobs as he climbs in to gawk at all the various details of the vehicle that were overlooked from previous distractions. Upon his further inspections, he realizes there are far more features on the dashboard than previously seen. An inset monitor is centered on the console where there are a multitude of switches, buttons, and knobs that are marked with cliché labels such as caltrops, oil slick, and eject, though others were more practical such as answer, directions, and N.O.S.
Now moderately familiarized with the layout, Pintear feels confident to push his new vehicle to its limits. He floors the accelerator. Smoke diffuses with screeching fury as the tires abrasively grind the asphalt below them. The limo lurches forward with impractical speed. Signs, cars, people, buildings, all blurred into a tunnel vision as the vehicle makes its way to open roads.
The limo glides on glass as the speedometer needle flickers on 125 miles per hour. Pintear feels invigorated from the sensation of flying on wheels, observing the scenery flash by for a millisecond then disappearing in to the distance behind his cloud of dust trailing his limousine. A large red switch catches his attention which is promptly pressed by Pintear. The engine roars, sending the limo far faster than Pintear expected the “hyper drive” switch to throw him with the needle now pointing to 250 miles per hour.
Looking ahead, Pintear notices the road starts to curves violently. Pintear begins to panic, but quickly thinks to reverse the switch to return to a normal speed. His endeavors are too slow and he reaches the turns at break-neck speeds. Without a chance of deceleration, he has no alternative but to ride the waves of blacktop. As if by instinct, he takes the turns with grace and precision that he never knew he possessed. Excited from his newly discovered talent, he executes a hairpin turn using his emergency brake and successfully turn around the bend to slow to a stop.
He looks at the bends and turns he just conquered with glee and new found confidence. These thoughts of self-admiration were broken by the dashboard ringing. Pintear looked at the console to see a glowing answer button. The limo continues to ring until Pintear presses the glowing button by the monitor. Monty's face is soon shown on the little monitor with a peaceful expression.
“Good day,” said Monty, “I see you have been enjoying the new toy. Since you are out, would you come by to drive me to the theatre?”
“Sure, but I forgot where your home is at. It was all so fast,” replied Pintear.
“Not a problem the information is being transferred to the limousine as we speak. See you in a little while. Good bye.” The monitor that turns to black soon lights up to show a map and driving directions to “Monty's Mansion,” as listed on the screen. With a turn of his wheel, Pintear is on track to his destination.
Pintear arrives to a large ornate iron gate that opens as he drives to the main entrance. Closing his door after he exits the limo, he is astonished by the mansion. The building dwarfs anything Pintear has seen before being eight stories high and a quarter mile wide. He enters the fifteen foot high doors that were opened by two butlers. The walls were made of white marble with paintings by world renown artists, the floors were polished to shine like mirrors that reflected all of the rooms, all of the ceilings were painted by master artisans and molded with elaborate designs, and the finest furniture laden the hallways and rooms.
A voice echoes over the intercoms throughout the hallway, “I am in my study; fourteen doors on your right.”
Pintear, still amazed, continues to walk down the endless hall and absorbing in the immensity of the structure. As Pintear counts the doors, he smells pastries being baked that awoke his stomach and caused it to growl in frustration. Finally finding the fourteenth door, Pintear knocks on the heavy oak door.
“Come in,” called a muffled voice from behind the door. Pintear enters and sees Monty sitting at his gigantic mahogany desk. Looking about as he walks towards the desk, he sees old artifacts from distant regions of the lands, books of all colors and origins fill the shelves, and a caged song bird in the corner by the window that hung behind Monty.
Pintear situates himself in one the four chairs in front of the desk.
“I see you have been playing with the features of your new limousine,” said Monty with a chaotic smile as he polishes the golden apple he is holding. Monty is an older gentleman with a thick aristocratic tone of voice that showed his status. He is wearing a dark blue suit with a red handkerchief in the jacket pocket, a white shirt of the finest cloth, and a crimson tie. His white hair and mustache, and weathering face show many years of deep thought and wisdom.
“Yes sir. I am really grateful for your, and Falcon's, generosity,” complimented Pintear.
“No need. You are doing a service for me. Falconpunch is the generous one,” replied Monty, “I invited you to get to know you better, but I can see that you are far too nervous for conversation right now.” Pintear looks up not realizing he was fidgeting with his yellow buttons on his shirt.
“I-I'm sorry. I just fe-” said Pintear, blushing, as his stomach growled.
“Ah. You are hungry. Well my chefs were making some tarts. Let us go see if we can make some up for you. After you eat we will go,” said Monty with a cheery smile.
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Pintear can see the lit billboard as he nears the theatre. There is a large queue of people waiting to see the evening show observes Pintear at the curb of the street where he parked to escort Monty out of the vehicle. As Pintear helps Monty out of the seat, he feels a tap on the shoulder. Pintear turns to see who tapped him and feels himself being thrown to the ground. The action was too fast for Pintear to react. Lying on the ground, slightly shocked, he sees Monty being attacked by three large men, one of which is wielding a hand gun.
The men are grabbing at Monty, but some how they can't quiet acquire a hold of him. Pintear sees a gun fly into the air and land next to his head, then looks up to see Monty with his flatten fingered palm in the air then sharply meet the face of the another assailant. Pintear looks over at the gun and without thinking enfolds it with his phalangic pompadour then expediently points the gun at the nearest aggressor and fires it leaving a smoldering red hole in the man's right shoulder. Shrieking in pain he drops to his knees groping at his now crimson backside.
Monty elbow thrusts one man in the throat leaving him to gasp for air then roundhouse kicks the other man, in the back of his neck, that had turned around to see his partner fall in pain. Pintear's head becoming more cognitive, he jumps to his feet to see if Monty is injured. Monty is dusting off the poor from his jacket when he spies Pintear with a terrified look of almost having lost someone.
“I'm fine, m'boy. Are you hurt? You took a hard fall there,” said Monty.
“Are yo-? How did yo-?” Pintear said with stumbling words.
“This is not the time nor place for questions. Can you still drive?” asked Monty. Pintear checks himself for anything hurting and finds nothing to be broken or even bruised, so he shakes his head at Monty to confirm he was able and fit. Monty sits back in the car and Pintear closes the door for him, then returns to the wheel and drives back towards the mansion.
The rear view mirror becomes a portal to flow the conversation between Pintear and Monty as Pintear glances into the reflection to see his passenger. Cautiously watching the road, Pintear questions, “How did you do that?”
“I should say the same with your pompadour.”
“I don't usually let people see that,” wiggling his extending bangs.
“There had to be a reason I chose you to help and you proved you had the guts to do it.”
“Do what? All I did was just fall down.”
“That is besides the point. You did exceptionally well. I will set things up for you as soon as I return to my money. Er... home.”
“Who were those people and why did they want to hurt you so badly?”
“Need not concern yourself with those details right now. You should go home and rest. You have had quite an experience today.”
The queries Pintear had been throwing at Monty had distracted him. They were idling at Monty's front gate. The large ornate gates open once again to let the long car drive up its previously guarded driveway. He parks the car then steps out to open the door for Monty. Pintear sees an eery absence of any physical trauma marks anywhere on Monty besides his suit being a little ruffled. Monty turns and bows courteously to Pintear.
“You are free for today. I need to make preparations for you. And do try and rest,” said Monty worried.