Categories > Cartoons > Avatar: The Last Airbender > Shippers: Rise of the Sues
Chapter Two: Dawn of the Shippers
2 reviewsOur heroes continue in their quest to find whatever surviving members of the Avatar community they can, finding whatever weapons they can use to ward off the threat of the shippers!
0Unrated
Shippers: Rise of the Sues
Chapter Two: Dawn of the Shippers
"This isn't going to work," Kimchi watched with folded arms.
"No, this is foolproof. Just look at the plans I drew in Isaia's sketchbook," Conor reassured the two as he made the final modifications to the potato gun.
They had stopped for gas near a hardware store, the writer insisting that he could properly construct a potato cannon based on something a friend had told him a few summers ago.
Isaia flipped through the sketchbook, stopping on a page that was sloppily marked with illegible cursive and stick figures, a shape resembling the potato gun on the center of the page.
"Is this supposed to be me?" the crossbow wielder questioned as she pointed towards a stick figure in sunglasses.
"Alright, we're ready," he stepped to the end of the PVC pipe, crouching as he grasped the canister wedged into it.
The girls proceeded to demonstrate their confidence in his plan, taking several steps back.
"I'm gonna try to hit that billboard," he nodded. "I want to see its range." He twisted the canister quickly, the pipe bursting as compressed air tore through it, warping the plastic.
"Conor!" Isaia lifted her hand to her mouth as he flew back a few feet, landing on his back.
"Told you!" Kimchi cackled, the scenario hilarious to her.
"Shut up," he muttered, picking himself up off the ground.
The artist helped the writer up, making sure he suffered no major wounds.
"I really thought that was gonna work," he muttered while dusting himself off.
"Why do we even need a potato gun?" Kimchi questioned, feeling the project to be somewhat frivolous despite its hilarity.
"Figured we could use it to pick off shippers while driving," he shrugged.
"With potatoes?" A hint of doubt filled Isaia's words.
"Potatoes kill."
"No they don't," the crossbow wielder interjected as she approached a soda machine, studying its selection.
Conor grinned, lifting a potato from the bag. He aimed carefully, pulling his arm back. Before he could throw, he felt the kind artist's hand touch against his other arm, shaking her head from side to side disapprovingly.
Grumbling, he dropped the potato to the ground.
"Regardless, we're gonna need more than a katana and a crossbow..."
"With silver tipped arrows," she corrected as she began wailing on the machine with the butt of her weapon.
"With silver tipped arrows," he muttered, "if we want to survive."
"Alright. So where can we go to find weapons?" She gave one last forceful strike to the machine, a can of soda falling. Grinning, she picked it up as she made her way back to the two.
"Wal-Mart?" Isaia suggested.
"They do have everything," he added.
"Yeah, but they also sell Avatar toys and DVDs," she sighed. "That means the place'll be crawling with shippers."
"We'll just find a gun shop," he shrugged.
"Where're we going to find a gun shop?" Kimchi answered doubtfully.
"We're in America; I doubt we're gonna have that much trouble finding a gun shop," he answered flatly.
"Around here, I mean."
"We could look it up in the phone book," the artist suggested.
"Okay, so all we need is a phone book." She tapped the top of the soda to remove the possibility of it erupting upon being opened, pulling back the tab.
"Easy, we take it from the pay phone at the gas station," he turned towards the mini-van, picking up the bag of potatoes as he felt for the keys in his pocket.
"Just leave those," Kimchi looked at the bag, curious as to why he would bother.
"No way; never know when you'll need a potato," he answered.
"That's stupid.
"You're stupid."
"You're stupider," she countered as she made her way to the passenger seat.
"Um...Maybe this isn't the best time for this...?" Isaia observed quietly, opening the door to the back seat.
The two muttered as they sat, plugging their seatbelts in.
"How far back is the gas station?" he started the engine, the mini-van crawling towards the street.
"A block, maybe two," she brought her feet up, resting them on the dashboard as she set the crossbow to her side.
"Righ-Oh," his eyes went wide as the car turned into the street, stopping suddenly.
"What is..." Isaia trailed off as she stared, a large wave of shippers staggering down the street.
"You're kidding me," Kimchi's eyes went wide as she observed the size of the mob, at least twice the size of the one they had encountered the day they met Conor.
"What do we do?" the artist whispered from the back seat.
"Alright. Um...How badly do we want that phone book?" he tapped the wheel, nodding his head as he considered the scenario.
"If you punch it, we can just swing by real fast and grab it," she answered quietly, her hand touching against the crossbow.
"Right," he slammed his foot on the gas, the wheels screeching as they tore against the pavement. He flipped the turn signal on, looping into the gas station parking lot. The car skid to a halt next to the pay phone, a few feet from the back seat window.
"Damn," he muttered, looking towards the kind artist. "Isaia, can you grab the book?"
She grasped the handle, staring up at them worriedly.
"It won't open."
"Did you lock the doors?" she looked at him curiously.
"No, I didn't touch them. Did you?"
"Why would I ask you if I did it?"
"Then wha-Oh, God damn it," He slapped the wheel. "It's child locked, isn't it?"
"Why would it be child locked?!"
"It's a mini-van, probably belonged to some soccer mom!"
"Whatever; Isaia, try leaning out the window!"
She nodded, rolling down the window as she leaned out towards the pay phone. She groaned, swatting her hand at the book just out of her reach.
"Here; switch places with me!" Conor rose up from the driver's seat, realizing he had forgotten to disconnect his seatbelt. Correcting the problem, he hurried to the back seat.
The artist hurried to take his place at the wheel, buckling herself in.
He reached out quickly, grasping the phone book before pulling himself back into the car. He tugged at the chain connecting the book to the payphone, growling as he attempted to break it free.
"Drive!" he called out, staring nervously towards the oncoming shippers.
"I don't have a license!"
"Are you kidding me with this?" Kimchi narrowed her eyes.
With a look of embarrassment, the artist shook her head from side to side.
"No one's going to pull you over, just drive!"
She tapped her foot to the gas nervously, the mini-van lurching forward. Pressing harder, she gripped the wheel as the vehicle took off.
"Oh em gee Zuko and Sokka oh tee pee!" the shipper grinned maniacally as it rushed towards Conor's arms, still clinging to the phone book.
"Not today," he grinned, the chain holding the phone book snapping as the mini-van tore towards the street.
"Yes!" Kimchi threw her fist up as they escaped, laughing happily.
Isaia smiled with relief, looking back towards the writer as he gripped the book.
"Christ," he opened his eyes, looking down at the book. He set it down beside him, regaining his breath as the car continued down the street, the Zukka shippers disappearing behind them.
Time passed, Kimchi glancing back towards the book.
"Hey. Want to look up a gun shop?"
"Sure," he grasped the binding, lifting the book to his lap as he began flipping through it. He glanced out the window, his eyebrow rising as the mini-van slowed to a stop.
"What's wrong?" she glanced towards the driver.
Isaia simply stared out the window silently.
"...No," he shook his head from side to side in disbelief.
Kimchi's jaw dropped, her eyes narrowing as she observed what lay before them.
A gun shop sat before them, not two miles from where they had struggled to acquire the phone book.
"Y'know what? No. No, I'm not even commenting on this. Not a word," she shrugged as she lifted her crossbow, kicking the passenger side door open.
He stepped out of the car calmly, speeding up as he threw the book down a nearby alley to relieve some of the frustration the irony of the situation had imparted on him.
Isaia locked the doors before walking towards the shop, pulling at the glass door's handle.
"It's locked."
"No it isn't," he muttered, throwing a metal trash can at the window. It hit against the glass, leaving an intense pattern of cracks.
"Nice," Kimchi noted sarcastically.
"That would've been a lot cooler if it just went right through. Y'know, just one quick smash," he explained as he lifted the trash can again, hitting it against the glass to shatter it.
They moved through the store quickly, taking whatever looked like it would be relatively useful in their journey. Before long they had cleared out as much as the van would carry.
Conor secured a dual pistol holster around his waist, looking out to see if they had missed anything important.
"Have you ever fired a gun?" Kimchi looked towards Isaia as she strapped a rifle to her back, hoping at least one of them had.
"No," she worried quietly, looking at the pistol holstered to her side.
"Let's get out of here," he suggested quickly, hopping out of the shop window, looking agitated as he neared the center of the street.
"Oh c'mon!" Kimchi screeched as she threw her hands up to the air, the Zukkas in the distance infuriating her.
The two reached back for the guns they had recently acquired, glaring as they aimed.
"Wait!" Isaia called out from behind them.
"What?" He looked at her curiously.
"I mean...Should we really shoot them...? What if there's some way to change them back?" The question had been eating at her for awhile.
"Back to what they were?" he lowered the weapon slightly.
"Right," she nodded.
"Slash artists and sue-generating crack shippers?" Kimchi questioned.
"Yes, I suppose..."
The two looked at one another, pulling at the triggers rapidly as they opened fire on the mob, their eyes wide as they considered both realities to be hazardous. Upon running out of bullets, they proceeded to throw their guns at the group before diving into the mini-van.
Isaia stared, taken off guard by the sudden bursts of fire.
"C'mon!" Kimchi yelled to her as she hurried for the passenger seat, waving to her friend.
The artist followed quickly, shutting the back seat tightly behind her.
"They're still coming," he glanced back over the driver's seat.
"Just make this left and look for a highway," she waved her arm out to the street, loading the crossbow.
He lashed his hand out, activating the signal before turning.
"What are you doing?!" Kimchi's eyebrow rose.
"Driving!"
"Why did you signal!?"
"You're supposed to signal!"
"Not when you're being chased by shippers!"
"What, you'd rather I got pulled over?!"
"Who's going to pull you over?!"
"Look, it's the law!"
"Yeah, but then they know you're going to turn left! If you're going to signal, signal in the direction you're not turning!" She looked over her shoulder, cursing under her breath as the shippers chased after them. "Isaia, hold them off!"
She nodded, looking towards the open rear window of the mini-van. She brought the handgun up, aiming carefully towards the ravenous mob. Securing the shot, she proceeded to throw the firearm at them.
"No, you're supposed to shoot it!"
She fished through the back of the vehicle, pulling up another gun. Aiming it nervously, she gasped as it fired.
"Keep going!" Kimchi grinned, watching an overweight cosplayer fall to the ground.
The car turned, pulling towards a nearby exit.
"Stop signaling!" she yelled again, looking towards the overly cautious driver.
"Look, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right!"
"You drive like an old lady!"
"What, you think you can do better?!"
"I know I can do better!"
"Fine, then you drive!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Fine! Pull over!"
"Fine, I will!"
"Fine, go ahead then!"
"Fine, I'm doing it!"
Isaia glanced towards them, curious as to their overuse of the word "fine."
The mini-van pulled over to the side of the highway, the two stepping out and slamming their doors behind them before passing one another. They sat back down, Isaia firing fearfully at the approaching shippers.
She pressed her foot against the gas, tearing down the highway with a nonchalant look.
The artist sighed a breath of relief as the shippers disappeared from sight, dropping the shotgun to her side.
"Nice blinker." He commented dryly, kicking his feet up onto the dash.
"Shut up," Kimchi muttered as she switched it off.
Isaia laughed softly, fishing through the guns for her sketchbook. Drawing it out, she proceeded to sketch the scene before her, smiling gently.
Chapter Two: Dawn of the Shippers
"This isn't going to work," Kimchi watched with folded arms.
"No, this is foolproof. Just look at the plans I drew in Isaia's sketchbook," Conor reassured the two as he made the final modifications to the potato gun.
They had stopped for gas near a hardware store, the writer insisting that he could properly construct a potato cannon based on something a friend had told him a few summers ago.
Isaia flipped through the sketchbook, stopping on a page that was sloppily marked with illegible cursive and stick figures, a shape resembling the potato gun on the center of the page.
"Is this supposed to be me?" the crossbow wielder questioned as she pointed towards a stick figure in sunglasses.
"Alright, we're ready," he stepped to the end of the PVC pipe, crouching as he grasped the canister wedged into it.
The girls proceeded to demonstrate their confidence in his plan, taking several steps back.
"I'm gonna try to hit that billboard," he nodded. "I want to see its range." He twisted the canister quickly, the pipe bursting as compressed air tore through it, warping the plastic.
"Conor!" Isaia lifted her hand to her mouth as he flew back a few feet, landing on his back.
"Told you!" Kimchi cackled, the scenario hilarious to her.
"Shut up," he muttered, picking himself up off the ground.
The artist helped the writer up, making sure he suffered no major wounds.
"I really thought that was gonna work," he muttered while dusting himself off.
"Why do we even need a potato gun?" Kimchi questioned, feeling the project to be somewhat frivolous despite its hilarity.
"Figured we could use it to pick off shippers while driving," he shrugged.
"With potatoes?" A hint of doubt filled Isaia's words.
"Potatoes kill."
"No they don't," the crossbow wielder interjected as she approached a soda machine, studying its selection.
Conor grinned, lifting a potato from the bag. He aimed carefully, pulling his arm back. Before he could throw, he felt the kind artist's hand touch against his other arm, shaking her head from side to side disapprovingly.
Grumbling, he dropped the potato to the ground.
"Regardless, we're gonna need more than a katana and a crossbow..."
"With silver tipped arrows," she corrected as she began wailing on the machine with the butt of her weapon.
"With silver tipped arrows," he muttered, "if we want to survive."
"Alright. So where can we go to find weapons?" She gave one last forceful strike to the machine, a can of soda falling. Grinning, she picked it up as she made her way back to the two.
"Wal-Mart?" Isaia suggested.
"They do have everything," he added.
"Yeah, but they also sell Avatar toys and DVDs," she sighed. "That means the place'll be crawling with shippers."
"We'll just find a gun shop," he shrugged.
"Where're we going to find a gun shop?" Kimchi answered doubtfully.
"We're in America; I doubt we're gonna have that much trouble finding a gun shop," he answered flatly.
"Around here, I mean."
"We could look it up in the phone book," the artist suggested.
"Okay, so all we need is a phone book." She tapped the top of the soda to remove the possibility of it erupting upon being opened, pulling back the tab.
"Easy, we take it from the pay phone at the gas station," he turned towards the mini-van, picking up the bag of potatoes as he felt for the keys in his pocket.
"Just leave those," Kimchi looked at the bag, curious as to why he would bother.
"No way; never know when you'll need a potato," he answered.
"That's stupid.
"You're stupid."
"You're stupider," she countered as she made her way to the passenger seat.
"Um...Maybe this isn't the best time for this...?" Isaia observed quietly, opening the door to the back seat.
The two muttered as they sat, plugging their seatbelts in.
"How far back is the gas station?" he started the engine, the mini-van crawling towards the street.
"A block, maybe two," she brought her feet up, resting them on the dashboard as she set the crossbow to her side.
"Righ-Oh," his eyes went wide as the car turned into the street, stopping suddenly.
"What is..." Isaia trailed off as she stared, a large wave of shippers staggering down the street.
"You're kidding me," Kimchi's eyes went wide as she observed the size of the mob, at least twice the size of the one they had encountered the day they met Conor.
"What do we do?" the artist whispered from the back seat.
"Alright. Um...How badly do we want that phone book?" he tapped the wheel, nodding his head as he considered the scenario.
"If you punch it, we can just swing by real fast and grab it," she answered quietly, her hand touching against the crossbow.
"Right," he slammed his foot on the gas, the wheels screeching as they tore against the pavement. He flipped the turn signal on, looping into the gas station parking lot. The car skid to a halt next to the pay phone, a few feet from the back seat window.
"Damn," he muttered, looking towards the kind artist. "Isaia, can you grab the book?"
She grasped the handle, staring up at them worriedly.
"It won't open."
"Did you lock the doors?" she looked at him curiously.
"No, I didn't touch them. Did you?"
"Why would I ask you if I did it?"
"Then wha-Oh, God damn it," He slapped the wheel. "It's child locked, isn't it?"
"Why would it be child locked?!"
"It's a mini-van, probably belonged to some soccer mom!"
"Whatever; Isaia, try leaning out the window!"
She nodded, rolling down the window as she leaned out towards the pay phone. She groaned, swatting her hand at the book just out of her reach.
"Here; switch places with me!" Conor rose up from the driver's seat, realizing he had forgotten to disconnect his seatbelt. Correcting the problem, he hurried to the back seat.
The artist hurried to take his place at the wheel, buckling herself in.
He reached out quickly, grasping the phone book before pulling himself back into the car. He tugged at the chain connecting the book to the payphone, growling as he attempted to break it free.
"Drive!" he called out, staring nervously towards the oncoming shippers.
"I don't have a license!"
"Are you kidding me with this?" Kimchi narrowed her eyes.
With a look of embarrassment, the artist shook her head from side to side.
"No one's going to pull you over, just drive!"
She tapped her foot to the gas nervously, the mini-van lurching forward. Pressing harder, she gripped the wheel as the vehicle took off.
"Oh em gee Zuko and Sokka oh tee pee!" the shipper grinned maniacally as it rushed towards Conor's arms, still clinging to the phone book.
"Not today," he grinned, the chain holding the phone book snapping as the mini-van tore towards the street.
"Yes!" Kimchi threw her fist up as they escaped, laughing happily.
Isaia smiled with relief, looking back towards the writer as he gripped the book.
"Christ," he opened his eyes, looking down at the book. He set it down beside him, regaining his breath as the car continued down the street, the Zukka shippers disappearing behind them.
Time passed, Kimchi glancing back towards the book.
"Hey. Want to look up a gun shop?"
"Sure," he grasped the binding, lifting the book to his lap as he began flipping through it. He glanced out the window, his eyebrow rising as the mini-van slowed to a stop.
"What's wrong?" she glanced towards the driver.
Isaia simply stared out the window silently.
"...No," he shook his head from side to side in disbelief.
Kimchi's jaw dropped, her eyes narrowing as she observed what lay before them.
A gun shop sat before them, not two miles from where they had struggled to acquire the phone book.
"Y'know what? No. No, I'm not even commenting on this. Not a word," she shrugged as she lifted her crossbow, kicking the passenger side door open.
He stepped out of the car calmly, speeding up as he threw the book down a nearby alley to relieve some of the frustration the irony of the situation had imparted on him.
Isaia locked the doors before walking towards the shop, pulling at the glass door's handle.
"It's locked."
"No it isn't," he muttered, throwing a metal trash can at the window. It hit against the glass, leaving an intense pattern of cracks.
"Nice," Kimchi noted sarcastically.
"That would've been a lot cooler if it just went right through. Y'know, just one quick smash," he explained as he lifted the trash can again, hitting it against the glass to shatter it.
They moved through the store quickly, taking whatever looked like it would be relatively useful in their journey. Before long they had cleared out as much as the van would carry.
Conor secured a dual pistol holster around his waist, looking out to see if they had missed anything important.
"Have you ever fired a gun?" Kimchi looked towards Isaia as she strapped a rifle to her back, hoping at least one of them had.
"No," she worried quietly, looking at the pistol holstered to her side.
"Let's get out of here," he suggested quickly, hopping out of the shop window, looking agitated as he neared the center of the street.
"Oh c'mon!" Kimchi screeched as she threw her hands up to the air, the Zukkas in the distance infuriating her.
The two reached back for the guns they had recently acquired, glaring as they aimed.
"Wait!" Isaia called out from behind them.
"What?" He looked at her curiously.
"I mean...Should we really shoot them...? What if there's some way to change them back?" The question had been eating at her for awhile.
"Back to what they were?" he lowered the weapon slightly.
"Right," she nodded.
"Slash artists and sue-generating crack shippers?" Kimchi questioned.
"Yes, I suppose..."
The two looked at one another, pulling at the triggers rapidly as they opened fire on the mob, their eyes wide as they considered both realities to be hazardous. Upon running out of bullets, they proceeded to throw their guns at the group before diving into the mini-van.
Isaia stared, taken off guard by the sudden bursts of fire.
"C'mon!" Kimchi yelled to her as she hurried for the passenger seat, waving to her friend.
The artist followed quickly, shutting the back seat tightly behind her.
"They're still coming," he glanced back over the driver's seat.
"Just make this left and look for a highway," she waved her arm out to the street, loading the crossbow.
He lashed his hand out, activating the signal before turning.
"What are you doing?!" Kimchi's eyebrow rose.
"Driving!"
"Why did you signal!?"
"You're supposed to signal!"
"Not when you're being chased by shippers!"
"What, you'd rather I got pulled over?!"
"Who's going to pull you over?!"
"Look, it's the law!"
"Yeah, but then they know you're going to turn left! If you're going to signal, signal in the direction you're not turning!" She looked over her shoulder, cursing under her breath as the shippers chased after them. "Isaia, hold them off!"
She nodded, looking towards the open rear window of the mini-van. She brought the handgun up, aiming carefully towards the ravenous mob. Securing the shot, she proceeded to throw the firearm at them.
"No, you're supposed to shoot it!"
She fished through the back of the vehicle, pulling up another gun. Aiming it nervously, she gasped as it fired.
"Keep going!" Kimchi grinned, watching an overweight cosplayer fall to the ground.
The car turned, pulling towards a nearby exit.
"Stop signaling!" she yelled again, looking towards the overly cautious driver.
"Look, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right!"
"You drive like an old lady!"
"What, you think you can do better?!"
"I know I can do better!"
"Fine, then you drive!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Fine! Pull over!"
"Fine, I will!"
"Fine, go ahead then!"
"Fine, I'm doing it!"
Isaia glanced towards them, curious as to their overuse of the word "fine."
The mini-van pulled over to the side of the highway, the two stepping out and slamming their doors behind them before passing one another. They sat back down, Isaia firing fearfully at the approaching shippers.
She pressed her foot against the gas, tearing down the highway with a nonchalant look.
The artist sighed a breath of relief as the shippers disappeared from sight, dropping the shotgun to her side.
"Nice blinker." He commented dryly, kicking his feet up onto the dash.
"Shut up," Kimchi muttered as she switched it off.
Isaia laughed softly, fishing through the guns for her sketchbook. Drawing it out, she proceeded to sketch the scene before her, smiling gently.
Sign up to rate and review this story