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Ms GO: Welcome back to Hell, thanks for joining us!
Morg: Now, now, Hell is just a tiny bit of an exaggeration.
Ms: That is a false statement
Morg: Nuh-uh. Let’s call it Purgatory.
Ms: Pls. I think I know the most about hell between the two of us
Morg: True true.
Ms: So do we have to write in dialect because I CANNOT
Morg: It would be more fun. But a lot more work. So laziness prevails.
Ms: Hell yes. Are you Huck or Tom?
Morg: Ladies first. I chose last time.
Ms: Then I’ll be Huck because I have more street smarts :P
Morg: Boy oh boy
Ms: Ohmygod what is wrong with us??? XD
Morg: I think you mean what is wrong with the rest of the world
Ms: True story. You start, baby!
Morg: Goddammit. Do we have a plot-like thingamabob?
Ms: Think… Adventure
Morg: Like that’s useful
Ms: You’ll figure it out ;)
Now as folks should know, but probably don’t, there ain’t much that can beat playin’ hooky and going out for a spin with a pal. Of course, that’s generally with a lack of dangerous circumstances. And Huck an’ me ain’t the type that have the kinda luck to avoid those. Before this outing, I gotta say that I never knew how hard the river can pull a body down from the surface at just the wrong time.
I do think of myself as a good swimmer, but at this moment that ain’t too obvious. And Huck looks to be about in the same boat I am, what with the both of us gettin’ washed downstream at breakneck pace. I guess the best way to get through this is gonna be to stick together. While I can’t control this here river, what I can do is control myself. I start tryna swim in Huck’s general direction, but that ain’t no easy task neither. Because before I know anythin’ Huck’s gone and disappeared.
I'm looking ‘round for ‘im- cause a body can't just disappear - but I can't see him nowheres. I calls out for him- but all the use that does is get me a mouth full o’ water so I quit. I tells myself that he’s all right. He’ll turn up down the river aways, like they do in the books and all. I’ll just wait for him down on the shore, so I start swimmin’.
I don’ know how the hell we got here. But we’s here all right. One minute Tom and I is driftin’ down the river, peaceful like, next I know, we’s about to be drowneded. On any other day, I say myself a strong swimmer, but I ain’t ‘customed to swimming in whitewater rapids or whatevers they call this out there in the west. Or… out here in the west. Either way, I don’ put much stock into this water.
‘Side from that, this water is just straight cold . I haven’t the slightest where Tom went and… well… I’m worried about him. He gets his head full up of crazy ideas and if he’s got stuck, he gonna try to think up a way out of it ‘like in the books’. And that, sir, is gonna get him drowneded.
I’m just thinking that I’ve hit a calm spot and that I might swim ashore to go a lookin’ for Tom, when the water catches me by the foot and drags me under. Alls of a sudden, I’m a twistin’ and a turnin’ and don’ know which ways up and which ways down . My elbow smacks on a rock hard and I try to holler, but I ain’t got no air no more.
My chest is hurtin’ considerable, and I keep pawin’ at the way I think is up, but this river got no mercy and by the time I’ve got a hand up to fresh air, my head lands on a rock and everything goes black.
It seems to be takin’ ‘im an awful long time, but then somethin’ comes a-floatin’ by. It looks almost like Huck, ‘cept for ben’ face-down. The current pushes a hand to the surface, and then I know. That’s my Huck Finn, and he looks to be in no small bit o’ trouble. Havin’ no choice in the situation, I jumped in anew to try and get ‘im out, like them princes in the books.
Well I managed to grab ‘im and get ‘im up on the shore, but he doesn’t look good. This is bad. He’s my friend, and I can’t let him die! But is he really dyin’? Is he even alive?! How’m I supposed ta know? A body can’t know ev’rything, but he’s my best friend an’ I gotta do somethin… Anythin… Anythin’ that’ll keep him alive, but I don’t know what. An’ when Tom Sawyer’s outta his depth, it don’t seem like there’s nothing anybody can do.
This wave of fear and helplessness washes over me, ‘cause nothing like this happened in any of the books- the characters always wake up. Feelin’ hopeless for the situation at hand, I fall to my knees on the sand, an’ end up lyin’ on the shore next ta Huck. Bitter, frustrated, helpless tears start to roll down my cheeks, and it looks to be all over.
Everythin’s still black as the night, but I can hear things now, I says to myself that this must be because I’ve gotten out of that cursed river. Now, a body’s sitting beside me- where ever beside me may be- and that body’s praying somethin’ considerable. And they’re crying too. I can hear it all right. A kinda choked sobbing- sounds like death I ya’ ask me.
“I know I ain’t the best person to send you prayers, but you ain’t gotta take it out on Huck Finn…” Why, that’s Tom Sawyer if I ever knew ‘im! “You gotta let ‘im wake up, please . I know I ain’t nothin’ butta… butta low-life, but you can’t take Huckleberry Finn from me! You can’t! I… I need him…”
Now what the hell does Tom Sawyer need me for?
“...I know you don’t… like it, but I… I love him.”
He what?! He… loves me…? Tom Sawyer loves me ? Of all the people in this country… ME ! Tom’s still cryin’- harder than he ever was- and I wanna reach out an’ touch ‘im an’ tell ‘im everything’s all right. Because him cryin’ like that is makin’ me sick an’ feel bad an’ I want ‘im to stop. An’ I ain’t dead anyhows!
I try to say his name, but it comes out a cough like death, but I can breath ‘gain, so I try his name one more time, but ‘fore I can get it out, he’s suffocatin’ me back ta dead an’ layin’ a top me an’ huggin’ me like there ain’t tomorrow.
“H-Huckleberry F-Finn if you ever, ever, ever scare me like that ‘gain I’ll- I’ll- I’ll-”
“Don’ call me Huckleberry,” I tells ‘im. Then I says, “Now get off of me Sawyer, I can’t very well breathe with your deadweight sitting on me!” He scrambles back and I try to sit up. “What were you prayin’ ‘bout o’er there, Sawyer…?”
His face turns red as blood an’ he looks off to the bubblin’ river next to us. He’s really a very beautiful person… “O-Oh nothing at all!” He laughs awkwardly and scratches his neck.
“Nothing your grandmother, Tom Sawyer!”
“W-What?!” He snaps his head back to me an’ he’s got panic in his eyes. “I wasn’t sayin’ anythin’ other than the Hail Mary !”
I grab him by the chin an’ look him dead in the eye. “I know what you said, Sawyer, don’t go messin’ with me.” The boy looks about on the verge of hyper-ven-o-lation. He’s sputterin’ all sorta nonsensical apologies and whatnot. I just smile at him an’ he shuts his trap good and fast. “Ya’ know, Tom Sawyer? I think I need you too…”
“Huck…” He’s so close I can feel his hair brushin’ against mine. ‘Fore I can think what I’m thinkin’, I’m kissing him. I’m kissing Tom Sawyer. I’m kissing Tom Sawyer . An’ he’s kissin’ me back and I realize how much I wanted this. How much I needed this. All too soon, he pulls away from me an’ he looks ‘bout like cryin’ again. “Huck… We can’t…”
“We just did,” I says, wanting his lips back.
“Huck, it’s… Huck this is wrong .”
“Why’d you say that?”
“The Bible, Huck! There’s rules ‘bout things like this!” He’s started cryin’ ‘gain and I wipe the wet off his face.
“Tom, we’re already goin’ ta hell anyhows, I don’t see no problem in it.”
He stares at me a long while an’ finally he just laughs, sets back and laughs. “I guess you’re right, Hucky. I guess you’re right.”
“‘Course I’m right,” I says, grabbing him by the waist. “So shut your trap and lemme kiss you.”