Bustin' Out

Bustin' Out is the fifth episode of Cyberpunk. The previous was The Shawshark Redemption, and the next is A Fresh Start.

Story
Frank rushed into the door or his apartment to find his wife, Darla, holding a bundled newborn with her midwife by her side.

“He’s…here?” said Frank. “The baby’s finally here?”

“Yes,” said the midwife. “And I have good news and bad news.”

“What’s the good news?” asked Frank.

“You have twins,” said the midwife.

“Twins?” said Frank. “Then where’s the other one?”

“That’s where the bad news comes in,” said the midwife as she uncovered the blanket that hid the infant starfish’s two heads.

“What…what is that?” squeaked Frank.

“He’s our child!” said Darla. “They’re our children.”

“No,” said Frank. “That’s no child of mine!”

Frank ran out the apartment, holding back tears. Darla called after him, but it was no use. Frank left the apartment, left the family, and he would never see either of them again.

20 years later, Ron woke up with a throbbing headache. He looked around and noticed that he was sitting in the lobby of a police station.

“What’s going on?” muttered Ron.

“What’s going on?” repeated a furious Pat, much to Ron’s shock. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! You just threw SpongeBryan under the bus!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Are you telling me that you don’t remember anything? Were you really that drunk?”

Pat told Ron about the arrests and the interrogation, and as he listened, Ron’s face grew more and more dismal.

“I really did all that?” said Ron.

“Yes,” said Pat. “You and that damn liquor.”

Ron cried. “I’m sorry…I’ve tried to stop…but I can’t. I just can’t. Whenever I get these terrible dreams…”

“Wait,” said Pat. “Dreams? About what?”

“Our dad,” said Ron. “I have dreams about our dad and how he abandoned us.”

Pat sighed. “Oh.”

“But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is making sure that our friend doesn’t spend another minute in that jail cell.”

Ron threw his empty bottle of wine into the nearest trash can and went with his brother to the office of the detective in charge of the investigation.

“I want to retract everything I said to you during my questioning,” Ron said to the detective. “I was under the influence of alcohol when I made those statements.”

“Oh, really?” said the detective. “Well, it’s too late.”

“Too late? What you mean?” said Pat.

“As we continue to build a case against the sponge, we’re getting eyewitness testimonies from every corner of the Upper Ring that incriminates not only him but both of you,” said the detective. “You can very well retract your statements, but you’d be forfeiting our deal in the process and setting yourselves up for a lifetime in the Alvean petitionary.”

Ron said nothing. Pat said nothing. The detective smiled.

“I think it’s safe to say that this little meeting is over,” he said. “You can feel free to leave the station if you want. We have no further use for you.”

Pat and Ron left the police station with a sick feeling in their stomach.

“What do we do now?” said Pat.

“We’re getting SpongeBryan out of there,” said Ron. “With or without the copper’s help.”

Pat and Ron ignited their rocket boots and flew to their apartment, where they grabbed a laser gun and mirror then said a short prayer to Neptune before heading back towards the police station.

SpongeBryan sat in his jail cell, his eyes interlocked with those of his guard.

“Don’t I get a phone call?” asked SpongeBryan.

“You’re not getting a phone call,” said the guard. “You’re not getting jack. You’re lucky I haven’t finished you off right now. You have no friends, no family, nobody to care. The detective might be a little pissed, since he’s working to get you convicted, but he’s not gonna care, either. Not really.”

The guard, a 500-600 pound lobster, hated SpongeBryan after he robbed Third National Bank, which the guard was responsible for protecting. The robbery led to the guard being fired from his post at the bank and given a lower-paying job as guard at the police station.

“You’re wrong,” said SpongeBryan. “I do have friends.”

“What? The freak?” laughed the guard. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” said SpongeBryan. “They’re the best friends I ever had. And they’re probably having an even harder time in their cell.”

“They’re not in a cell,” said the guard. “They were given amnesty in exchange for turning you in. They left the station a few minutes ago, in fact.”

“No! You’re lying!”

“When will you accept it? Accept that your friends betrayed you.”

“No!”

SpongeBryan stood up and punched one of his static bars, electrocuting himself.

The guard gasped. “Did he just…?”

The guard disabled the bars and ran to SpongeBryan, feeling his pulse. Suddenly, SpongeBryan punched the guard and ran out of the now-open cell. The guard pulled out a laser gun and chased SpongeBryan into the lobby. He looked around for signs of the escapee, but SpongeBryan jumped onto him from behind. During the struggle, SpongeBryan squeezed a pressure point on the guard’s neck, knocking him out immediately.

“Alright, now to look for my friends,” said SpongeBryan.

“That won’t be necessary,” said the detective as he walked out of his office with a laser gun pointed at SpongeBryan’s head.

SpongeBryan raised his arms and backed away slowly. He looked down and noticed the guard’s laser gun at his foot.

“Don’t even think about picking up that laser gun,” said the detective. “Make one single move, and I’ll shoot you dead. I will not hesitate.”

SpongeBryan cursed and looked back up.

“You should’ve stayed in your cell,” said the detective. “I’ve seen kids like you all the time. Determined, always to a fault. But don’t worry. A few more days with us and you won’t have any determination left to spare.”

As the detective walked towards the helpless SpongeBryan, Pat and Ron flew into the police station with their rocket boots.

“You two again?” hissed the detective.

Pat and Ron blasted at the detective with their laser gun. He dodged the blasts and returned fire. SpongeBryan used the opportunity to pick up the guard’s laser gun and join Pat and Ron in their attack. The detective, overcome by laser shots, dropped his gun and ducked into his office.

“How did you manage to escape?” Pat asked SpongeBryan.

“How did I manage to escape?” repeated SpongeBryan. “How did you manage to escape?”

“He doesn’t know,” whispered Ron.

“Let’s keep it that way,” whispered Pat. “He’s gone through enough today.”

Suddenly, the detective jumped out of his office with an automatic laser gun and started firing at the three with a rapid pace. Ron took out his mirror and deflected all the lasers while grabbing SpongeBryan and flying out the police station with his and Pat’s rocket boots. Once they were a safe distance away, they landed with their hearts pounding.

“Looks like we’re fugitives now,” said SpongeBryan.

“Yeah,” said Pat. “Where do we go now?”

“I don’t know where you guys are going,” said Ron. “But I’m going to rehab.”