Fanfic: The Successful Failures of El Mentedor, Chapter 9
Title: The Successful Failures of El Mentedor: Chapter 9
Word Count: About 3,400
Rating: PG for action and reflections on the last chapter.
Genre: AU/Comedy/Western
Summary: A Western AU with characters based on those from the movie Megamind.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
FBI Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distrubution of federal law provides severe civil and criminal penalities for the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of federal law. Stay in shool.
Even with her eyes closed, the room was way too bright. She was lying in a bed on her side and her head. Hurt. What had happened? She’d taken Mentedor out to dinner and....
Her eyes shot open as she remembered the feel of their lips pressed together, only to have rays of sunlight mercilessly attacked her pupils. She quickly squeezed her eyelids shut and pulled the covers over her throbbing head.
She lay there gradually remembering, and the more she recalled the more she found herself scrunching her body into a ball under the blankets. The kissing she might have been able to write off as an understandable mistake caused by stress and alcohol. But she had, quite literally, thrown herself at him. And he - Mentedor - had rejected her.
So, this was what rock bottom felt like. Roxanne tried to figure out what she should do next and quickly determined that the most appropriate course of action would be to stay hidden away in this bed for the rest of her life. Hopefully she would starve to death before the innkeeper came in and kicked her out. She wondered if they’d bury her here in Littlesburg or if they’d find a way to get her back home. Maybe she could be buried under her saloon. Yes, she’d like that.
She began wondering what the ceremony would be like. Who would attend. What they’d say about her. She couldn’t imagine all that many people showing up. Maybe a few customers from her bar talking about how good she was at mixing drinks and how much she hated it when her saloon was destroyed. Perhaps someone would mention her various charitable donations. She suspected nobody would say anything about her personality, because...well...nobody really knew her.
Sure, she had made plenty of casual acquaintances and a good number of business contacts. It wasn’t as if she were unlikable. She knew how to carry on a conversation and was always willing to listen to her customers’ problems when she was at work. And certainly more than a few people had shown interest in being friends or more than friends with her.
Regardless, she never found herself motivated to let anyone into her personal life. At the end of each day, she went home alone. She had no gal pals to bond with. No relationships with men outside of the rare one-night stand. And that seclusion was a conscious decision on her part. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of friendship. She had just simply not met anyone who she’d wish to try and form any sort of meaningful bond with.
Roxanne didn’t consider herself a misanthrope. She liked to believe in the general goodness of humanity. She wanted other people to be happy, to be safe and cared for. But she had also meant what she said when she told Mentedor that most of the people in Metro County were idiots. Not bad people. Just idiots. They were cowards - never once stepping up to help her unless they got something in return. They were sheep - believing everything they heard instead of looking with their own eyes. They were superficial - nobody ever seeming to take an actual interest in her feelings unless they were trying to get something from her. And they were boring - every life story and worldview she heard at the bar a slight variation of something she’d heard before.
If she were ever to bother with friendship, it’d need to be with someone...different. Someone who was willing to fight for what they believed in, or someone actually who bothered to think for themselves, or someone who sincerely cared about her well-being, or someone who was even the slightest bit interesting.
To her knowledge, there was only one person in Metro County who had those qualities. And she hated him. Or at least that’s what she intended to continue claiming.
She thought back to last night. She remembered how angry she’d been that he hadn’t taken her. And how convinced he was that if they did go through with it, she’d regret it later. She really hated it when he was right.
She groaned, pulled the covers off her, and sat up. She sat on the side of the bed for a little while, trying to let the pain in her head distract her from the unfortunate reality that she actually was going to continue on with her life. Once she stood up, she reached behind herself and tied her bow, securing her dress back in place. Then she made her way to the door.
She was only mildly surprised to see Mentedor sleeping up against the wall right outside her room. Like a guard, she thought. He seemed to become aware of her presence and opened his eyes, looking up at her. God, he looked hungover. And she couldn’t imagine she looked much better.
He slowly got to his feet and, without saying a word, the two of them made their way downstairs and back out onto the dusty streets of the town. They were silent as they found a place to eat and remained so until they place their orders. Ginger ale and pie for Mentedor. A Bloody Mary and a plate of bacon for Roxanne. And then silence again.
Roxanne looked over to see Mentedor rubbing his head, not looking at her. She figured she really should say something to him. She didn’t want to, but the silence that hung between them was becoming a painful reminder that one of them would have to speak eventually. And there was something in particular that needed to be said.
“About last night...” she said, quietly, and he looked up at her. She paused. “Thanks.”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“We’re, uh...” continued Roxanne. “We’re both kinda idiots aren’t we?”
“It would appear so,” agreed Mentedor.
They each smiled a little and didn’t say anything for the remainder of their time at the restaurant.
When they returned to their horses, Mount smiled at them. “Señor! Señorita! You’re both looking well this morning!” This obviously wasn’t true, but neither of them called him out on it. Roxanne mounted Scooter and Mentedor scooted into place on Mount and the four figures started making their way out of town. Mount never questioned where they had been or what they had been doing, instead opting to play some soothing melodies as they road off. He really was a fantastic fish.
By the time they’d made it past the edge of town and out into the desert, Roxanne was feeling much better. She considered herself particularly talented at recovering from hangovers. And to look at Mentedor, apparently he possessed the same talent. Maybe something to do with his giant head? Soon both parties looked fully recovered.
They were riding across the top of a hill when Roxanne pulled on Scooter’s reigns, bringing it to a stop. Mentedor and Mount noticed this as well and turned around to join her.
“What are you...?” asked Mentedor.
“Something’s going on down there,” said Roxanne.
Mentedor opened a hatch in Mount’s robotic body and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He hadn’t looked through them for more than a few seconds before Roxanne grabbed them away and held them to her own eyes.
“Hey!” he objected. “Give those back! What kind of a woman goes around snatching up other people’s stolen property?”
Roxanne was ignoring him, focusing instead on what she saw through the lenses. Five men were sitting casually around the edge of a small pit of quicksand. There were also five horses, apparently belonging to the men. And in the middle of the quicksand was an old Native American man. The quicksand was up to his waist and none of the other men seemed to be making an effort to help him.
“That old man is in trouble!” said Roxanne in an alarmed hush.
“Yes, it would appear so,” said Mentedor, his tone acknowledging that this was an unfortunate situation, but not reflecting any of the panic in Roxanne’s voice. “Well, let’s be grateful we’re not him.” He grabbed the binoculars back and motioned for them to move on. “Shall we?”
“Hold your fish! We can’t just leave him here!”
“Roxanne, I don’t think he just tripped and fell into that quicksand. In all likelihood those other men, for whatever barbaric reason, wish to see him dead.”
“You’re right,” she said, looking down at the scene and narrowing her eyes. “If we don’t do something he’s done for. Okay, here’s the plan!”
“The plan?”
“I’m gonna go down there and draw the other guys away. Then while they’re chasing me, you find some way to get that old man to safety! You ready?”
“Not even remotely.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for starters, that’s easily the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“And that’s really saying something!” noted Mount.
Mentedor glared at his friend and the fish looked a little regretful.
“What’s wrong with my plan?” asked Roxanne.
“Besides the fact that it will, in all likeliness, result in the termination of your own life?” asked Mentedor.
“I’ll be alright! You told me yesterday that Scooter runs faster than your average horse, right? Plus he doesn’t seem to fatigue. There’s no way they’ll catch me!”
“Oh, and that’ll be really comforting when they pull out their guns and shoot you in the head!”
“Okay, then what would you suggest?”
“I’d suggest we leave.”
“And just let him die?!”
“Well, you have to admit, the guy does look pretty old. I suspect he only has a few years left anyway.”
“I can’t believe you! Don’t you care at all?!”
“Of course I care! I’m not so uncivilized that I’d ever wish such a fate upon that man. But from a practical standpoint, we have no say in this matter! If either of us goes down there to intervene, we won’t be coming back up!”
“Oh, come on! You’re always putting yourself in life-threatening situations! How is this any different?”
“The difference, Miss Ritchi, is that I only place myself in scenarios where the probability of my survival meets my own standards of acceptability.”
“What about back on the train? I heard you admit that those guys were about to kill you before Wayne showed up.”
“That was...different.”
“Different how?”
“I put you in the situation. It was...it was my obligation to get you out of it. Neither one of us, however, have any obligation to this man.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point! You’re not law enforcement. You don’t have a role you need to play in this scene. Honestly, if you’re really that eager to die in a blaze of heroic glory, you could at least do it in a situation with a bit more of an audience. If you gave me some advanced notice, I could even throw together some fitting theme music and pyrotechnics to accentuate your sacrifice.”
“It’s not about glory or playing roles! It’s about doing what’s right!”
“You are being completely irrational! Look, you hit your head pretty hard last night. I think that perhaps...”
“Are you gonna help me or not?”
“I decline.”
She scoffed. “Some friend you are!”
“I...wait. We’re friends?”
“Well, obviously not. Look, you do what you want. I’m gonna go down there.”
“And do what?!”
“Well, if you’re not going to help me, I guess I’m just gonna have to try and appeal to their good nature.”
“Good nature? Roxanne, they’re murdering an old man down there! You can’t honestly tell me that you think reasoning with them is going to end in success.”
“Maybe not. But I’d rather die doing what I believe in than live life as a coward. I’d have thought you of all people could understand that.” With that, Roxanne snapped the reigns and her and Scooter took off down the hill.
“Roxanne!” cried Mentedor. He let out a groan of frustration. “You see, Mount? This is why women shouldn’t be allowed to ride horses!”
“You gave her that horse,” replied Mount. “And since when are you a chauvinist?”
“I’ll be chauvinistic when it darn well suits me!”
Mentedor looked back to Roxanne, who was riding down the side of the hill toward her own death. He sighed. What was wrong with her? People didn’t act this way. They just didn’t. Everyone looked out for themselves. The idea that altruism was anything more than a hypothetical idea seemed ludicrous. And yet, here she was. Throwing her life away for the mere chance of saving someone she’d never met before. Going against all social conventions in a foolhardy attempt to adhere to her own sense of morality. She truly was an idiot. And Mentedor had never felt more in love.
“God, she’s perfect, isn’t she?” he noted with some sad reverence.
“Uh...señor?” said Mount.
It was then Mentedor noticed that one of the bandits had a gun pointed to her head and she was getting down from Scooter. “Oh, geez, they’re gonna kill her!” Mentedor began to panic.
“What are we going to do?” asked Mount, also clearly concerned.
“Hold on, let me think!” Mentedor’s eyes lit up. “Mount, I just came up with a brilliant plan!”
Meanwhile, Roxanne was once again loathing the fact that Mentedor actually was, on occasion, correct. Maybe she should have thought this whole thing through a bit more. She stood on the ground next to Scooter and looked nervously at the man who was approaching her, gun pointed straight at her head. She attempted a smile. “Hey, come on,” she appealed in a kind tone, trying her best to mask the trembling in her voice. “We’re all reasonable people here. I’m sure if we all just sat down and talked about our feelings, we could find a nice compromise that would benefit everyone.” Yeah, she was gonna die.
The sound of flamenco guitars filled the air. Roxanne instinctually assumed her bar was about to get trashed before realizing they were nowhere near her bar. She turned toward the noise and a paper airplane hit her in the eye. “Ow!” she said, rubbing her eye as the folded paper fell to the ground. Then she looked up to see Mentedor a several yards away, standing confidently on Mount’s back, hands on his hips, a smile on his face, cape billowing in a seemingly non-existent wind.
Mount’s robotic body continued to project his master’s theme song as Mentedor spoke. “Buenos Dayos, my intellectually-inferior ban-dittos! Oh, I certainly do not envy the perilous situation you find yourselves in now. For soon you shall see that your quicksand of evil will be swallowed whole by my much quicker sand of greater evil! Seh-nor-it-a! The poster!”
Roxanne just looked at him. He seemed to want her to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. He stayed frozen in place for a moment, then his eyes gaze went down to the paper airplane on the ground, and back up to her, smiling with restrained frustration. She bent over and picked up the paper airplane, unfolding it. It was a wanted poster of Mentedor.
“Gentlemen, feast your eyes upon the fearsome image of the harbinger of your doom!” continued Mentedor.
Roxanne held up the poster so that the men could see it, putting one hand below and looking sideways at it with an awkward smile.
“Might I call your attention to the reward?” said Mentedor. “Clearly a man with such an incredible bounty on his giant head is not someone to be trifled with! And, if you are not properly intimidated, allow me to call attention to the print that says ‘WANTED ALIVE’. That’s very important, you know.”
The men exchanged glances for a moment. “Let’s get ’im!” yelled one of them and they quickly mounted their horses.
Mentedor took this moment to throw a length of rope at Roxanne and he and Mount took off quickly across the desert, the five men chasing in hot pursuit.
“See?” said Mentedor, legitimately pleased with how well this was going. “I told you this was a brilliant plan! Now Roxanne can take care of helping the old man while we distract them.”
“Isn’t this just basically Señorita Ritchi’s idea?” asked Mount.
“Oh, do be quiet, Mount! Now, you see that rock formation over there? That’s our destination.”
“On our way, señor!”
Back at the quicksand, Roxanne threw one end of the rope around Scooter’s neck.
The old Native American man, who had now sunk down to his chest, called out to her. “Have you heard the good news?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“Huh?” said Roxanne, bringing the rope around and beginning to tie a knot.
“Jesus Christ died for our sins!” continued the man, with a huge smile.
“Okay, first of all, I’m not sure that’s exactly news....” Roxanne secured the knot and grabbed the other end of the rope.
“Have you accepted Zeus as your personal lord and savior?”
Roxanne walked toward the edge of the quicksand. “Look, Christianity isn’t exactly my....” She stopped, registering his words. “Wait, what?”
“You must open your mind, my child,” explained the old man. “For once you discover Om, you shall truly find inner peace and become at one with the universe. Quetzacoatl deems it so!”
“Yeah, that’s great. But right now would you mind grabbing onto this rope?” She tossed one end and it landed in the sand near him. He grabbed it and Roxanne motioned for Scooter to walk away from the quicksand. It did so and began slowly dragging the old man toward safety.
“You know, my friend,” continued the old man, “there’s a yin to every yang. Have you found your yin?”
“I’m fine with just the yang, thanks,” said Roxanne as the man was pulled up on solid ground.
“I have been saved!” he cried. “Praise Allah! L’chayyim!”
Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Look, do you live somewhere around here? I’d like to get you to safety before those hooligans get back here.”
“Oh, that would be delightful! By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to be traveling with a Hindu god. Could I possibly get an autograph?”
“No.”
Meanwhile, Mentedor had managed to reach the rock formation with ample time to carry out the next step of his plan. Which was to hide. Rather than riding across the ground into the flat opening at center of the formation, Mentedor had taken a detour up a stone slope. Now he sat looking over a ridge and down into the large gap, quietly hoping that the bandits chasing him would make their way to the area below them. He was in luck. All five of the hooligans rode into the opening and stopped for a moment to wonder where their fugitive had gone. Mentedor smiled evilly and pulled out his gun.
Mount had parked himself back a little ways and winced as his rider shot several blasts downwards, laughing maniacally as the men’s cries echoed from down below. When Mentedor finally relented there was a stillness, and he stood up, holding his gun proudly and surveying his handiwork. Beneath him the dust cleared to reveal that all five of the bandits were unharmed. The passageway that they had taken to get where they were, however, was now blocked by several large boulders.
“Don’t worry,” said Mentedor. “With a little teamwork, I’m sure you’ll find a way out of here in a few hours or so. Luckily by then, my comrades and I will have already rode off dramatically into the sunset!”
“It’s the middle of the morning, señor,” interjected Mount.
Mentedor turned back toward his companion, looking annoyed. “Do you mind, Mount? I’m trying to gloat here!” He returned his focus toward the men looking up at him. “Now where was I? Oh, yes! You all! Grovel in the wake of your defeat and know that evil shall always triumph over evil! Bow before the glory that is El Ment...”
Mentedor let out a shriek and stumbled back as several bullets were fired his way. “Mount, they’re shooting at me! Can they do that?!”
“It would appear so, señor.”
“Oh, forget this! Come on. We’re va-moose-ing!”
And with that, they were off.
Preview: In the next and final chapter of The Successful Failures of El Mentedor: Roxanne is faced with an important decision, and we all say goodbye. Yes, unfortunately the suits over at FOX don’t know a good thing when they see one and have decided to cancel my fanfiction after only ten chapters. The good news is that I have been approved to write a one-shot follow-up which will hopefully be posted sometime later this month. Anyways, how will this series end? Will our two protagonists finally...oh, you know the drill. Tune in next time!
Word Count: About 3,400
Rating: PG for action and reflections on the last chapter.
Genre: AU/Comedy/Western
Summary: A Western AU with characters based on those from the movie Megamind.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
FBI Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distrubution of federal law provides severe civil and criminal penalities for the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of federal law. Stay in shool.
Even with her eyes closed, the room was way too bright. She was lying in a bed on her side and her head. Hurt. What had happened? She’d taken Mentedor out to dinner and....
Her eyes shot open as she remembered the feel of their lips pressed together, only to have rays of sunlight mercilessly attacked her pupils. She quickly squeezed her eyelids shut and pulled the covers over her throbbing head.
She lay there gradually remembering, and the more she recalled the more she found herself scrunching her body into a ball under the blankets. The kissing she might have been able to write off as an understandable mistake caused by stress and alcohol. But she had, quite literally, thrown herself at him. And he - Mentedor - had rejected her.
So, this was what rock bottom felt like. Roxanne tried to figure out what she should do next and quickly determined that the most appropriate course of action would be to stay hidden away in this bed for the rest of her life. Hopefully she would starve to death before the innkeeper came in and kicked her out. She wondered if they’d bury her here in Littlesburg or if they’d find a way to get her back home. Maybe she could be buried under her saloon. Yes, she’d like that.
She began wondering what the ceremony would be like. Who would attend. What they’d say about her. She couldn’t imagine all that many people showing up. Maybe a few customers from her bar talking about how good she was at mixing drinks and how much she hated it when her saloon was destroyed. Perhaps someone would mention her various charitable donations. She suspected nobody would say anything about her personality, because...well...nobody really knew her.
Sure, she had made plenty of casual acquaintances and a good number of business contacts. It wasn’t as if she were unlikable. She knew how to carry on a conversation and was always willing to listen to her customers’ problems when she was at work. And certainly more than a few people had shown interest in being friends or more than friends with her.
Regardless, she never found herself motivated to let anyone into her personal life. At the end of each day, she went home alone. She had no gal pals to bond with. No relationships with men outside of the rare one-night stand. And that seclusion was a conscious decision on her part. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of friendship. She had just simply not met anyone who she’d wish to try and form any sort of meaningful bond with.
Roxanne didn’t consider herself a misanthrope. She liked to believe in the general goodness of humanity. She wanted other people to be happy, to be safe and cared for. But she had also meant what she said when she told Mentedor that most of the people in Metro County were idiots. Not bad people. Just idiots. They were cowards - never once stepping up to help her unless they got something in return. They were sheep - believing everything they heard instead of looking with their own eyes. They were superficial - nobody ever seeming to take an actual interest in her feelings unless they were trying to get something from her. And they were boring - every life story and worldview she heard at the bar a slight variation of something she’d heard before.
If she were ever to bother with friendship, it’d need to be with someone...different. Someone who was willing to fight for what they believed in, or someone actually who bothered to think for themselves, or someone who sincerely cared about her well-being, or someone who was even the slightest bit interesting.
To her knowledge, there was only one person in Metro County who had those qualities. And she hated him. Or at least that’s what she intended to continue claiming.
She thought back to last night. She remembered how angry she’d been that he hadn’t taken her. And how convinced he was that if they did go through with it, she’d regret it later. She really hated it when he was right.
She groaned, pulled the covers off her, and sat up. She sat on the side of the bed for a little while, trying to let the pain in her head distract her from the unfortunate reality that she actually was going to continue on with her life. Once she stood up, she reached behind herself and tied her bow, securing her dress back in place. Then she made her way to the door.
She was only mildly surprised to see Mentedor sleeping up against the wall right outside her room. Like a guard, she thought. He seemed to become aware of her presence and opened his eyes, looking up at her. God, he looked hungover. And she couldn’t imagine she looked much better.
He slowly got to his feet and, without saying a word, the two of them made their way downstairs and back out onto the dusty streets of the town. They were silent as they found a place to eat and remained so until they place their orders. Ginger ale and pie for Mentedor. A Bloody Mary and a plate of bacon for Roxanne. And then silence again.
Roxanne looked over to see Mentedor rubbing his head, not looking at her. She figured she really should say something to him. She didn’t want to, but the silence that hung between them was becoming a painful reminder that one of them would have to speak eventually. And there was something in particular that needed to be said.
“About last night...” she said, quietly, and he looked up at her. She paused. “Thanks.”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“We’re, uh...” continued Roxanne. “We’re both kinda idiots aren’t we?”
“It would appear so,” agreed Mentedor.
They each smiled a little and didn’t say anything for the remainder of their time at the restaurant.
When they returned to their horses, Mount smiled at them. “Señor! Señorita! You’re both looking well this morning!” This obviously wasn’t true, but neither of them called him out on it. Roxanne mounted Scooter and Mentedor scooted into place on Mount and the four figures started making their way out of town. Mount never questioned where they had been or what they had been doing, instead opting to play some soothing melodies as they road off. He really was a fantastic fish.
By the time they’d made it past the edge of town and out into the desert, Roxanne was feeling much better. She considered herself particularly talented at recovering from hangovers. And to look at Mentedor, apparently he possessed the same talent. Maybe something to do with his giant head? Soon both parties looked fully recovered.
They were riding across the top of a hill when Roxanne pulled on Scooter’s reigns, bringing it to a stop. Mentedor and Mount noticed this as well and turned around to join her.
“What are you...?” asked Mentedor.
“Something’s going on down there,” said Roxanne.
Mentedor opened a hatch in Mount’s robotic body and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He hadn’t looked through them for more than a few seconds before Roxanne grabbed them away and held them to her own eyes.
“Hey!” he objected. “Give those back! What kind of a woman goes around snatching up other people’s stolen property?”
Roxanne was ignoring him, focusing instead on what she saw through the lenses. Five men were sitting casually around the edge of a small pit of quicksand. There were also five horses, apparently belonging to the men. And in the middle of the quicksand was an old Native American man. The quicksand was up to his waist and none of the other men seemed to be making an effort to help him.
“That old man is in trouble!” said Roxanne in an alarmed hush.
“Yes, it would appear so,” said Mentedor, his tone acknowledging that this was an unfortunate situation, but not reflecting any of the panic in Roxanne’s voice. “Well, let’s be grateful we’re not him.” He grabbed the binoculars back and motioned for them to move on. “Shall we?”
“Hold your fish! We can’t just leave him here!”
“Roxanne, I don’t think he just tripped and fell into that quicksand. In all likelihood those other men, for whatever barbaric reason, wish to see him dead.”
“You’re right,” she said, looking down at the scene and narrowing her eyes. “If we don’t do something he’s done for. Okay, here’s the plan!”
“The plan?”
“I’m gonna go down there and draw the other guys away. Then while they’re chasing me, you find some way to get that old man to safety! You ready?”
“Not even remotely.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for starters, that’s easily the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“And that’s really saying something!” noted Mount.
Mentedor glared at his friend and the fish looked a little regretful.
“What’s wrong with my plan?” asked Roxanne.
“Besides the fact that it will, in all likeliness, result in the termination of your own life?” asked Mentedor.
“I’ll be alright! You told me yesterday that Scooter runs faster than your average horse, right? Plus he doesn’t seem to fatigue. There’s no way they’ll catch me!”
“Oh, and that’ll be really comforting when they pull out their guns and shoot you in the head!”
“Okay, then what would you suggest?”
“I’d suggest we leave.”
“And just let him die?!”
“Well, you have to admit, the guy does look pretty old. I suspect he only has a few years left anyway.”
“I can’t believe you! Don’t you care at all?!”
“Of course I care! I’m not so uncivilized that I’d ever wish such a fate upon that man. But from a practical standpoint, we have no say in this matter! If either of us goes down there to intervene, we won’t be coming back up!”
“Oh, come on! You’re always putting yourself in life-threatening situations! How is this any different?”
“The difference, Miss Ritchi, is that I only place myself in scenarios where the probability of my survival meets my own standards of acceptability.”
“What about back on the train? I heard you admit that those guys were about to kill you before Wayne showed up.”
“That was...different.”
“Different how?”
“I put you in the situation. It was...it was my obligation to get you out of it. Neither one of us, however, have any obligation to this man.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point! You’re not law enforcement. You don’t have a role you need to play in this scene. Honestly, if you’re really that eager to die in a blaze of heroic glory, you could at least do it in a situation with a bit more of an audience. If you gave me some advanced notice, I could even throw together some fitting theme music and pyrotechnics to accentuate your sacrifice.”
“It’s not about glory or playing roles! It’s about doing what’s right!”
“You are being completely irrational! Look, you hit your head pretty hard last night. I think that perhaps...”
“Are you gonna help me or not?”
“I decline.”
She scoffed. “Some friend you are!”
“I...wait. We’re friends?”
“Well, obviously not. Look, you do what you want. I’m gonna go down there.”
“And do what?!”
“Well, if you’re not going to help me, I guess I’m just gonna have to try and appeal to their good nature.”
“Good nature? Roxanne, they’re murdering an old man down there! You can’t honestly tell me that you think reasoning with them is going to end in success.”
“Maybe not. But I’d rather die doing what I believe in than live life as a coward. I’d have thought you of all people could understand that.” With that, Roxanne snapped the reigns and her and Scooter took off down the hill.
“Roxanne!” cried Mentedor. He let out a groan of frustration. “You see, Mount? This is why women shouldn’t be allowed to ride horses!”
“You gave her that horse,” replied Mount. “And since when are you a chauvinist?”
“I’ll be chauvinistic when it darn well suits me!”
Mentedor looked back to Roxanne, who was riding down the side of the hill toward her own death. He sighed. What was wrong with her? People didn’t act this way. They just didn’t. Everyone looked out for themselves. The idea that altruism was anything more than a hypothetical idea seemed ludicrous. And yet, here she was. Throwing her life away for the mere chance of saving someone she’d never met before. Going against all social conventions in a foolhardy attempt to adhere to her own sense of morality. She truly was an idiot. And Mentedor had never felt more in love.
“God, she’s perfect, isn’t she?” he noted with some sad reverence.
“Uh...señor?” said Mount.
It was then Mentedor noticed that one of the bandits had a gun pointed to her head and she was getting down from Scooter. “Oh, geez, they’re gonna kill her!” Mentedor began to panic.
“What are we going to do?” asked Mount, also clearly concerned.
“Hold on, let me think!” Mentedor’s eyes lit up. “Mount, I just came up with a brilliant plan!”
Meanwhile, Roxanne was once again loathing the fact that Mentedor actually was, on occasion, correct. Maybe she should have thought this whole thing through a bit more. She stood on the ground next to Scooter and looked nervously at the man who was approaching her, gun pointed straight at her head. She attempted a smile. “Hey, come on,” she appealed in a kind tone, trying her best to mask the trembling in her voice. “We’re all reasonable people here. I’m sure if we all just sat down and talked about our feelings, we could find a nice compromise that would benefit everyone.” Yeah, she was gonna die.
The sound of flamenco guitars filled the air. Roxanne instinctually assumed her bar was about to get trashed before realizing they were nowhere near her bar. She turned toward the noise and a paper airplane hit her in the eye. “Ow!” she said, rubbing her eye as the folded paper fell to the ground. Then she looked up to see Mentedor a several yards away, standing confidently on Mount’s back, hands on his hips, a smile on his face, cape billowing in a seemingly non-existent wind.
Mount’s robotic body continued to project his master’s theme song as Mentedor spoke. “Buenos Dayos, my intellectually-inferior ban-dittos! Oh, I certainly do not envy the perilous situation you find yourselves in now. For soon you shall see that your quicksand of evil will be swallowed whole by my much quicker sand of greater evil! Seh-nor-it-a! The poster!”
Roxanne just looked at him. He seemed to want her to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. He stayed frozen in place for a moment, then his eyes gaze went down to the paper airplane on the ground, and back up to her, smiling with restrained frustration. She bent over and picked up the paper airplane, unfolding it. It was a wanted poster of Mentedor.
“Gentlemen, feast your eyes upon the fearsome image of the harbinger of your doom!” continued Mentedor.
Roxanne held up the poster so that the men could see it, putting one hand below and looking sideways at it with an awkward smile.
“Might I call your attention to the reward?” said Mentedor. “Clearly a man with such an incredible bounty on his giant head is not someone to be trifled with! And, if you are not properly intimidated, allow me to call attention to the print that says ‘WANTED ALIVE’. That’s very important, you know.”
The men exchanged glances for a moment. “Let’s get ’im!” yelled one of them and they quickly mounted their horses.
Mentedor took this moment to throw a length of rope at Roxanne and he and Mount took off quickly across the desert, the five men chasing in hot pursuit.
“See?” said Mentedor, legitimately pleased with how well this was going. “I told you this was a brilliant plan! Now Roxanne can take care of helping the old man while we distract them.”
“Isn’t this just basically Señorita Ritchi’s idea?” asked Mount.
“Oh, do be quiet, Mount! Now, you see that rock formation over there? That’s our destination.”
“On our way, señor!”
Back at the quicksand, Roxanne threw one end of the rope around Scooter’s neck.
The old Native American man, who had now sunk down to his chest, called out to her. “Have you heard the good news?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“Huh?” said Roxanne, bringing the rope around and beginning to tie a knot.
“Jesus Christ died for our sins!” continued the man, with a huge smile.
“Okay, first of all, I’m not sure that’s exactly news....” Roxanne secured the knot and grabbed the other end of the rope.
“Have you accepted Zeus as your personal lord and savior?”
Roxanne walked toward the edge of the quicksand. “Look, Christianity isn’t exactly my....” She stopped, registering his words. “Wait, what?”
“You must open your mind, my child,” explained the old man. “For once you discover Om, you shall truly find inner peace and become at one with the universe. Quetzacoatl deems it so!”
“Yeah, that’s great. But right now would you mind grabbing onto this rope?” She tossed one end and it landed in the sand near him. He grabbed it and Roxanne motioned for Scooter to walk away from the quicksand. It did so and began slowly dragging the old man toward safety.
“You know, my friend,” continued the old man, “there’s a yin to every yang. Have you found your yin?”
“I’m fine with just the yang, thanks,” said Roxanne as the man was pulled up on solid ground.
“I have been saved!” he cried. “Praise Allah! L’chayyim!”
Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Look, do you live somewhere around here? I’d like to get you to safety before those hooligans get back here.”
“Oh, that would be delightful! By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to be traveling with a Hindu god. Could I possibly get an autograph?”
“No.”
Meanwhile, Mentedor had managed to reach the rock formation with ample time to carry out the next step of his plan. Which was to hide. Rather than riding across the ground into the flat opening at center of the formation, Mentedor had taken a detour up a stone slope. Now he sat looking over a ridge and down into the large gap, quietly hoping that the bandits chasing him would make their way to the area below them. He was in luck. All five of the hooligans rode into the opening and stopped for a moment to wonder where their fugitive had gone. Mentedor smiled evilly and pulled out his gun.
Mount had parked himself back a little ways and winced as his rider shot several blasts downwards, laughing maniacally as the men’s cries echoed from down below. When Mentedor finally relented there was a stillness, and he stood up, holding his gun proudly and surveying his handiwork. Beneath him the dust cleared to reveal that all five of the bandits were unharmed. The passageway that they had taken to get where they were, however, was now blocked by several large boulders.
“Don’t worry,” said Mentedor. “With a little teamwork, I’m sure you’ll find a way out of here in a few hours or so. Luckily by then, my comrades and I will have already rode off dramatically into the sunset!”
“It’s the middle of the morning, señor,” interjected Mount.
Mentedor turned back toward his companion, looking annoyed. “Do you mind, Mount? I’m trying to gloat here!” He returned his focus toward the men looking up at him. “Now where was I? Oh, yes! You all! Grovel in the wake of your defeat and know that evil shall always triumph over evil! Bow before the glory that is El Ment...”
Mentedor let out a shriek and stumbled back as several bullets were fired his way. “Mount, they’re shooting at me! Can they do that?!”
“It would appear so, señor.”
“Oh, forget this! Come on. We’re va-moose-ing!”
And with that, they were off.
Preview: In the next and final chapter of The Successful Failures of El Mentedor: Roxanne is faced with an important decision, and we all say goodbye. Yes, unfortunately the suits over at FOX don’t know a good thing when they see one and have decided to cancel my fanfiction after only ten chapters. The good news is that I have been approved to write a one-shot follow-up which will hopefully be posted sometime later this month. Anyways, how will this series end? Will our two protagonists finally...oh, you know the drill. Tune in next time!