Chapter 33

That night, Hep and Aphrodite had sex for the first time in several hundred years. Unsurprisingly, it was incredibly loud, vigorous, and sweaty, as it can only be between two gods who had once been married, and then separated for an age, one of whom is a goddess of sex.

Fortunately for Hep and Aphrodite, none of the rest of the crew were in adjoining rooms. Well, to be honest, it was probably better for the rest of the crew than Hep and Aphrodite. They weren't too worried about the noise, though the salesman in the room on their right and the wholesome family from Utah on their left were thoroughly scandalized and titillated.

Jim had been making the rounds of the motel, but wisely elected not to enter Hep's room when he heard the commotion inside.

The next morning, Hep and Aphrodite emerged from their room, flushed and a little dazed, and went down to meet everyone else and decide where they were going to get breakfast. Scroat could swear that Hep had a spring in his step, which was unusual since Hep had a pronounced limp normally.

They determined that a Perkins would be their best bet for breakfast, and went back to their rooms to gather their belongings. Half an hour later they were all down by the bikes again, ready to go.

They roared out of the parking lot, destined for the pancakes and omelets of victorious heroes. Scroat rode in Hep's side car ("No way in hell am I riding bitch again," he'd said). Charlie rode with Aphrodite in the Corvette.

They filled up most of the restaurant's smoking section, talking, laughing and smoking. Eventually their food came, and they dug in it with a passion. Minutes later they were smoking and talking again, drinking plenty of coffee.

They decided that after they'd paid up, they would ride to the Twin Cities and find Scroat and Charlie a couple of new bikes.

The ride to Minneapolis was uneventful, though every one was in high spirits, and they rode quite expeditiously. In Minneapolis, they spotted a dealership that sold both Ducati and Triumph motorcycles.

"I think we've found our place," Hep yelled to Scroat.

"Damn straight!" Scroat answered.

After a quick stop at a couple banks for cash, they went to the motorcycle shop.

Within seconds of entering the dealership, Scroat spotted his bike. It was a black Triumph Thruxton 900. Low-slung, and very, very black, Scroat grinned from ear to ear the second he sat on it.

"Oh. Hell. Yeah." Scroat said. He began haggling with the salesman immediately.

Hep, Dave and Too Tall wandered around the dealership. Minerva and Athena sat outside.

"Hey, where the hell are Charlie and Aphrodite?" Hep asked Dave.

Dave shrugged in reply. "Haven't see them since we got here."

Hep looked out the window, and saw Charlie sitting in the Corvette, apparently alone. Hep made a "get in here" gesture, and Charlie waved back, smiling.

Hep went back to looking at the bikes. They were pretty, but he thought his was better. Scroat was counting out the cash for the bike, in front of a slightly bewildered salesman.

Charlie and Aphrodite finally came into the dealership. Charlie was all smiles.

"All right, time to find a new Duc," Charlie said to Hep, rubbing his hands together. He wandered through bikes, and stopped when he saw a yellow SportClassic Sport1000. It looked like a motorized wasp. Charlie clapped his hands over his head.

"Hey! Who's going to sell me this fucking bike?" he called.

An hour later and they were ready to head home.

Out in the parking lot, Hep said goodbye to Aphrodite again.

"Come and visit anytime," she said, and got into her Corvette. She beeped the horn twice as she drove away.

"So what now, Hep?" Dave asked him.

"Well, I've got a date with a giant twine ball, and then I guess it'll be time to head home." Hep said. Scroat and Charlie decided to ride along with Hep, but Dave and Too Tall were itching to get back to Denver, so they left on their own.

Minerva and Athena decided to head home too. "We've got a couple of organs to finish, after all," Minerva said.

"See ya round, Hep," Athena said, and they rode away.

Hep looked at Scroat, Charlie and Jim. "Well, let's get moving," he said.

They rode to Darwin. The weather was perfect, there were puffy clouds and plenty of sun. They were a little tired of riding through farmland, but Hep was too excited to see the world's biggest ball of twine to be concerned about such things.

They arrived in Darwin just before 5:00. They parked their bikes and walked up to the pagoda housing the monumental oddity.

"That is one big fucking ball of twine," Scroat said.

"Yep," Hep said, and grinned.

"Well, that was pretty fun. What do you say we get some fucking dinner?" Scroat asked.

"Sounds good to me," Hep said. They walked over to the nearby Twine Ball Inn. It was clean, but somewhat run down inside. The staff eyed them warily, and one of the waitresses finally showed them to a table.

They had a decent, Minnesotan dinner of meat and potatoes. They didn't linger, because Scroat and Charlie were both itching to get out and play with their new bikes some more.

They went out to their bikes, and started them up. As they were putting on their helmets, Scroat asked Hep "So now what?"

"Let's go home," Hep said.

"Sounds good to me," Scroat said.

They rode south.

***

After a series of blunders - including falling into an uncovered manhole, getting hit by a pizza delivery man, a school bus, and a very surprised robin - Jeb finally found Seth.

Seth was giggling madly, and greeted Jeb by asking "Have you heard of the nomadic tree? Apparently now and then it just packs up its' trunk and leaves."

Then he burst out laughing, nearly convulsing with the apparent hilarity of his comment.

Jeb didn't quite know what to make of that, but he untied Seth, who walked away from him still laughing and entirely uninterested in Jeb.

Jeb debated helping Seth, and decided discretion is the better part of valor, and the better part of discretion is knowing when to split.

***

Hep, Scroat, Charlie and Jim found a quiet place to camp for the night just across the border of Nebraska.

That night they were awakened by the sound of a single two-stroke motor. Hep walked over to the scooterist, and saw that he was carrying several cameras. It took Hep a minute to realize that he'd seen him before. The last time, though, he'd been wearing a red shirt.

"Hey man, what club were those guys who helped you with?" he asked Hep.

"They're the UTMC," Hep answered.

"Any idea how I could become a member?"

"Man, they don't have any members," Hep said, and laughed. "Go down to Denver if you want, though. They're a good bunch of guys."

Hep went back to the spot where he'd been sleeping, and the scooterist rode off.

***

The next morning, Hep woke up and saw that Scroat was already up, fiddling with his new bike.

"Damn, Scroat, obsess much?" Hep asked.

"Aw, fuck you. You're just jealous," Scroat said.

Eventually Charlie got up and once they were packed up they rode on to Aspen. When they arrived at Charlie's house, he invited them in for dinner and to stay the night.

Once again, they cooked meat over the fire pit in Charlie's back yard, and got roaring drunk on rum. They spent a good while dizzily throwing axes at a tree stump Charlie had on the far end of his yard. They mostly missed.

Late, late that night they turned in, and slept deeply.

The next morning they woke up to the sound of someone pounding on Charlie's door. Charlie got up, and stumbled to the front door, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

He opened the door, and was very surprised by who was standing there.

"Hey Charlie, how have you been?" Elvis said.

"Pretty good, Elvis. Come in, come in," Charlie said. He led Elvis in, and then wandered into the kitchen to make some coffee. Once the pot was percolating nicely, he moved to the kitchen table, where Elvis was already sitting. Soon Hep and Scroat joined them. Jim was outside exploring Charlie land.

"Howdy gentlemen," Elvis said. "The word on the street is that you've saved the world, again."

"So it would seem," Hep said. "What brings you out this way?"

"Well, I just couldn't wait to see you guys in person and hear the news from your own mouths," Elvis said and grinned. "You done good, fellas."

"Aww, it was nothing," Hep said.

"Yeah, nothing," Scroat said sarcastically. "Easy to say for the guy who didn't get killed this time around."

They had coffee, and shared some of the funnier moments of their trip with Elvis. They all laughed heartily about the time Jeb threw a giant hot dog at them, as well as their adventure chasing a penguin through a hotel in Wyoming, only to get thrown out.

Elvis told them that he'd heard Seth was sent back to the Upper Realms of Ra.

"Being the voice of thunder can't be so bad," Hep said.

"I don't know. You ever heard of a thunder bucket?" Scroat asked, and laughed.

"What happened to Jeb?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I don't rightly know," Elvis said. "I'm sure he'll turn up, though."

"Yeah, and that fucker still owes me money," Scroat said.

Once they were a little more awake, Charlie made a huge breakfast for them, and they ate until they could barely move.

"I don't think I even need to see any more biscuits and gravy for a long time," Elvis said as he sat back and pushed his plate away from him.

Scroat belched in agreement.

"Thanks Scroat, I'll take that as a compliment," Charlie said.

Charlie came inside. "Man, you've got a lot of land out here," he said to Charlie.

"Yep. It's good to be a god, here in god's country," Charlie said, and laughed.

After a while, Hep and Scroat began packing again, getting ready for the last stretch of road before they got home. As they loaded up their bikes, Charlie, Elvis and Jim stood nearby shooting the breeze. Charlie showed off his new bike to Elvis, who was duly impressed.

"Always loved that Italian styling. I should tell you about my Pantera sometime, I've got some great photos," Elvis said.

Soon, Hep and Scroat were ready to roll out. They went over and shook hands with Charlie and Elvis, and started walking back to their bikes. Jim drifted along behind them.

"Say Jim," Elvis said, "how'd you like to come back to Portland with me?"

"Really? You mean it?" Jim said

"Sure, I can use a fella with your talents," Elvis said. "You'd make a fine fly on the wall, I think. That is, if you're up for some more adventure."

"Sure! That'd be great!" Jim said.

Hep and Scroat glanced at each other.

"Well, good luck Jim. Stop in and visit sometime," Hep said.

"Only don't leave any shit behind so we have to chase you down and give it back. That's just a dick move, got it?" Scroat added.

"Yeah, I got it. Bye guys. See you around." Jim said.

Hep and Scroat fired up their bikes and got moving. Soon they were headed southwest towards the deserts of Arizona, and their home outside of Tucson.

On their way home, they cut through New Mexico. Hep wanted to see Roswell. He was a bit disappointed, since the vibe of the town was more "poor" than "otherworldly."

They also stopped at an odd surplus shop that was half cold-war museum and half appliance boneyard.

Eventually they got into Arizona. It was dark and the rode through the desert was cold. They were eager to get home, and rode fast and hard to get there.

They finally got to their house, and pulled their bikes into the garage. They stumbled through their house, and both fell asleep within seconds of falling into their own beds.

That night, Hep dreamt of Tommy. He and Scroat were hanging out on the patio at a nice bar, drinking fine tequila with beer chasers. Tommy came up to the table.

"Hey, guys, how you been?" Tommy asked.

"Not too bad, not too bad," Hep said, and took a pull from his glass of beer.

"Glad to hear it," Tommy said, "So..."

Hep interrupted him, "Hey Scroat, wasn't there something you wanted to give Tommy?"

Tommy looked mildly confused.

"Oh yeah! Yeah, I got something fucking important to give you, pal," Scroat said. He stood up, directly in front of Tommy.

"I've been meaning to give you this since we left on that fucking trip," Scroat said, and hauled off and kicked Tommy as hard as he could straight in the balls.

Scroat smiled at Hep and sat down again.

"Damn, I feel a whole lot better now. Thanks Hep!" Scroat said.

"No problem," Hep said, smiling slightly.

Tommy laid on the ground, gasping for air. Eventually he stood up again, and left the bar, limping. "See you guys around," he muttered.

Hep and Scroat enjoyed the rest of their drinks, and then went back to their own dreams.

***

The next morning, Hep crept into Scroat's room, carrying his favorite hammer. He slammed it down next to Scroat's head.

"Who the fuck made you king shit of fuck mountain, you rotten bag of fuck?" Scroat yelled as he snapped awake.

"Yeah, it's good to be home," Hep said, and smiled again. He left the room and went into the kitchen to make coffee.

After he got the coffee going, he went to check their answering machine. He skipped through the multitude of automated telemarketer messages, and stopped when he got to a message from a familiar, masculine voice.

"Hey, Hep, it's Ellie! Man, have I got a great opportunity for you! I'm going to be down in that area sometime next week, I'll see you then!"

"Aw, shit." Hep said.

"Who was that?" Scroat asked.

"Ellie," Hep answered.

"Aw, fuck!" Scroat exclaimed.

And that, dear reader, is

THE MOTHERFUCKING END.