Don't look at me; just listen to me... This is my story. --these words echo in Greggo's mind all these years later.
The waves of this beautiful shore reveal many answers that history never taught its blind listeners to seek. The waves are particularly powerful this time of day as another hard crash of white water sends an object up onto shore... right up to a young Kyle Anderson who is walking along and enjoying his day off of school. "Oh wow... cooool!! There's something in it!" Kyle's face lights up with excitement as he scoops the old bottle up and pulls some seaweed off of it. He brushes the bottle clear of sand and other residues so that he may hold it up to the sun and behold the unthinkable... This bottle - about the size of an average wine bottle - appears to be housing a small hand!
"What the!!!"
Kyle involuntarily drops the bottle out of pure shock the moment his senses communicate to his brain that he's looking at a severed hand. The bottle lands on a sharp rock in the sand and immediately shatters; its contents dispersing evenly around the rock and revealing much more than just somebody's missing hand, for what lies before Kyle now is so much more...
"Well...?... Are you going to... pick them up?"
Young Kyle spins around as soon as he hears those words behind him. Greggo.
"What? Who are you?" Sure, it's a valid question but in Greggo's mind he sees this as a reason to act offended. Smiling and licking his lips, Greggo is most certainly going to try to use this situation to his advantage and get a cheap feel. "Who am I? Why I never was so offended in all my life..." Greggo pulls a dagger with about a five inch blade from his belt and haphazardly waves it at Kyle's face while using his free hand to gently caress his own inner thigh. Kyle backs up and actually trips over that same sharp rock that broke the bottle open, so when he falls right into some shards of glass it is of no surprise or concern to Greggo.
"Foolish lad... if you'd have known my name I bet you wouldn't be bleeding from your anus right now." The enormous smile on Greggo's face is utterly terrifying as he leans in to extend a hand to Kyle, helping the youngin' up to his feet and grabbing his butt. "Hey!" Kyle smacks Greggo's hand away. "And I'm not bleeding from my anus, sick-o! My arm is what's bleeding because it went right into that damn broken glass. Thanks a lot, man!" Kyle turns around and storms off, completely disregarding the contents of the bottle that are still littered around that sharp rock in the sand. Greggo watches Kyle as he runs off... that look in Greggo's eye resembling that of a wild lion eyeballing its prey. "Mmmmmm..." --that hard, rough groan out of Greggo signifies that he's really, really trying to fight back the urge to run after that ass. His sexual urges often take precedence over, well, anything/everything... but right now "something" seems to be drawing his attention down...
Down...
Down...
Greggo's eyes finally are able to be pried away from Kyle's buttocks in the far distance and he begins to examine the items in the sand. He kneels down and picks up...
1) A small, scratched up, silver key. Greggo looks closely at it to see some tiny letters engraved into it. It looks like the last of the three letters is worn out and can't be identified, but the first two letters are definitely "D" and "R" as Greggo smiles and places the key in his pocket.
2) A tiny piece of some kind of durable rag paper with what looks like a map printed on it. "What... the... ???" Greggo stares at the tiny map, certain that he's not looking at anything resembling the terrain of Earth but at the same time questioning his own geographical knowledge since he can't even locate Texas on a map of the US... Needless to say, he pockets the map for safe keeping.
3) A skeleton key, but not just any. Greggo carefully runs his finger along the very sharp teeth of this key and blood begins to trickle down. Grinning and wagging his tongue for just a split second, he lifts his finger to his mouth to drain his own succulent fuel right back into his own, perfectly unbalanced system. "Aaaahhh..." Greggo very happily places the skeleton key into his pocket for future use.
4) The photograph of a man. "But why?" Greggo's own curiosity confounds him as he stares at the small photograph of this man, cocking his head to the side and even scratching his ass to help himself think. "I've seen this guy before... but where?"
Into Greggo's pocket it goes. Maybe one day he'll be able to remember why that man seems familiar. Greggo has done a lot. A lot. A lot. Let me emphasize the fact that it's A LOT of drugs that Greggo has done. So with that said, it's easy to understand why he might have trouble remembering even a person he saw earlier in the same day, let alone in his distant past.
5) The hand - smaller, fuzzier and darker than any human hand would be - it becomes clear this is some kind of small monkey's hand. Greggo kisses the hand and realizes its tightly clenching something... What could that be, he wonders? It takes him a few seconds to pry open the tiny fingers of this hand that somehow hasn't decomposed over the years, and a small coin falls out. It appears to be a gold coin with somebody's head depicted on the face and when Greggo turns it over he sees his own reflection in the perfectly clear, mirror-like back of the coin.
Smiling like a kid in a candy store who has a drooling problem; Greggo holds that coin out in front of him so he can stare into it and look at his own golden reflection. It is then that a cold, hard revelation shoots up his spinal cord like electricity through a cage: SOMEBODY IS BEHIND HIM.
Greggo palms the coin and twirls on his heel, ending up in a stance with his legs spread far apart like he's ready to tackle somebody. Greggo naturally expects that anybody sneaking up behind him is either, A) here to hurt him, or B) here to fuck him. Either way, it's essential to spread those legs and open up those hands.
"Arrrr! I'm not here to hurt you," says a deep, grumbling voice as Greggo's face transforms into quite the WTF look. Greggo straightens up (only physically; not sexually) and stares at this guy for a few more seconds looking confused as humanly possible. Nothing could prepare Greggo for what would happen next; a monkey with only one hand comes scurrying out of the waters and runs up Greggo's leg! It bites his dick and then while Greggo is screaming in pain, the monkey takes that severed hand from Greggo. It's a perfect fit! The monkey has retrieved its hand! It runs over to the visitor and climbs up onto his shoulder as Greggo looks at the strange man and his monkey. It's then that it hits Greggo; all of this must be connected! The map... the key... the monkey... the hand... this man standing before him... "Are you here to take me to... a buried treasure?"
The hope in Greggo's eyes is overwhelming and finally, after a few seconds, pure joy overtakes Greggo as the man nods... "Yes... I'm here to take you to a... "treasure"... like no other. We're going to set sail on a journey of heroic proportions, you and I. We'll scour these waters and comb every inch of land if necessary... because WE, ARRRR, HIS!"
Greggo isn't sure what all of that means but he's interested... oh, he's damn interested. Greggo licks his lips and slurps in some of the drool that had been collecting as he stares in amazement at the unexpected visitor who is about to
change
his
life
forever.
"ARRRRRR, me maties... Hoist the anchor!"
Is Greggo about to unknowingly unleash a cancer upon the XWF that has long been thought dead?
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