“Do you know him?” Jack the Trucker asked Jackie the Waitress, who shook her head.


    “You two must be my neighbors!” the stranger said. “I live two doors down. I saw you pull in on my walk, so I came over to give you a hello! How are y’all liking existence?”


    “Hello,” Jack the Trucker called out. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion, so what should he say here? He supposed he could—


    “We’re busy!” Jackie the Waitress yelled. “Get lost!”


    Jack the Trucker gaped at Jackie who looked at him questioningly. “What was that?” he asked silently.


    “Well!” the neighborly Jack said. “What rude people!” He stalked off in a huff.


    “See?” Jackie said. “It worked.”


    “It could have not, though!” Jack complained, putting the wheelbarrow back in motion. “He could have come over here and wanted to fight, or something. You need to be more careful!”


    “Hey, it worked, though!” Jackie the Waitress said, grinning sheepishly.


    “Just come on,” Jack the Trucker said, trying to hurry without being reckless.


    They made it behind the trailer while only spilling the rug wrapped corpse once when Jack tripped on a rock. Jackie pointed out the septic lid and they carted over the wheelbarrow. She opened the lid and they got the rug covered body out. Jack looked around the area for prying eyes but didn’t see any. It was the outskirts of town, and they were relatively safe.


    “Hold on,” Jack the Trucker said. “Put him down on the ground first.”


    “What?” the Waitress said, but she acquiesced.


    “I want to say a few words,” Jack said.


    “Oh my God. We’re dumping him into literal shit, you know?”


    Jack the Trucker opened up the rug and looked at the visage of his fallen foe. It had changed magically since he had fought him, but he still recognized him through some strange Jack-sense. He knelt down and fished his wallet out of his back pocket.


    “Jack LM24601J,” Jack said, reading from his license, “You were a jackass. There’s no getting around that, but I don’t think you would balk at the term. I think you liked being a jackass. You certainly did a good job of being one, so you can consider your life a success. It was a brief life, like a fast-burning flame. You died doing what you loved. May you rest in peace, and if there’s any goodness in the Jackverse, you’re in a very nice afterlife. A place much better than this hellhole. Uh… amen.”


    “Rest in piss,” Jackie the Waitress said. “Get his money.”


    Jack the Trucker scowled at the Waitress, but what she said did make sense. He didn’t know how much was in his bank account, and he wasn’t sure about his credit card either. Also, maybe he should try to not leave a paper trail for a while…. “No,” he finally said. “It’s his money. It goes with him.”


    “He doesn’t need it down there!”


    “It’s not ours to take,” Jack said.


    “He literally does not need any money where he’s going! You’re being wasteful. Throwing away money! Jesus, Jack really made you a goody two shoes, didn’t he? You don’t even think you’re in the story, so why are you trying so hard to look like a good guy? Not that you’re being successful at it, mind you, you look like an idiot right now. I’d say-“


    “Alright! Alright, fine! I’ll murder him and then I’ll rob him. Fine! Should I get his damned boots, too?


    “Stop overcompensating for the fact that you killed a guy! It was self-defense! You don’t need to be a puritan for the rest of your life to pay for it.”


    Jack the Trucker was taken aback by this. Was that what he was doing? Overcompensating? He supposed she did have a point about wasting money. That was like throwing food away, wasn’t it? Maybe… maybe she was right. “Okay,” he finally said.


    The dead Jack had fifty Jackbucks in his wallet, which Jack the Trucker took and split with Jackie the Waitress. She snatched her half from his hand and tucked it into her bra. “There, you see?” she said, grinning. “You’re growing as a character. And I’m helping you do it.”


    “Oh, fuck off,” Jack the Trucker said dismissively. “Help me dump him.”


    They covered the body back up with the rug and threw him down the hole into the septic tank. It made a splashing sound as it hit the corrupted waters, and then they covered the hole back up. They had blood on them: Jackie the Waitress some, Jack the Trucker a lot. “I need to wash up and change my clothes again,” he said.


    “Yeah, me too,” the Waitress said. “We should clean the truck first, though. Then we can clean ourselves up.”


    Jackie the Waitress’s trailer was a drab and dingy thing, not quite falling apart, sparsely furnished and decorated, although there was a portrait of Jack Himself on the wall.


    “I’ve got car detailing equipment, too,” the Waitress said. “It was going to be my side job.”This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    “Oh!” Jack said. “That’s good! That’ll really help us.”


    They grabbed the equipment and some more cleaning supplies from a closet and made their way back to the truck. It was covered in blood, it was everywhere. They got to work mopping and scrubbing and vacuuming the cramped quarters. Some time through the process, Jack turned on the radio for some background chatter:


    “…sworn in on the Jackiversalist bible. This is the first swearing in ceremony of our story world. President Jack Two still faces the problem of what to do about the secret service. Is the organization completely compromised or was the shooter a lone wolf? For right now, the newly made president has been relying on members of the presidential cabinet to personally provide armed security for him. Only time will tell how this segment of history will turn out, but hopefully, whatever happens, it will make for interesting news.


    And on top of that, it’s an election year! The president sure has a lot to do in such a short amount of time. Have you decided who you’ll be voting for next month? November 5^th will be here before we know it. Stay tuned for more updates on this thrilling sequence of events. But for now, let’s have a little music. Jack the Bard, here live in our studio, will be playing a rendition of “Nearer My Jack to Thee” as we continue memorializing our dearly departed President Jack One, may he rest in peace. This has been DJ Jack, of KCAJ, your home for all things Jack!”


    Jack the Bard played the tune on an acoustic guitar. The music was easy going and serene, and Jack the Bard had a lovely singing voice. Jack the Trucker paused, feeling contemplative over what he had done, over what he was doing. This wasn’t the path he would have chosen for himself. He wished it hadn’t happened, but it had. He thought briefly of turning himself in, but ultimately thought better of it. It wasn’t really his fault, anyway, he could only do what the World Maker had him do. He was, in essence, a marionette on strings. They all were. That was the nature of living in a fictional universe.


    “There!” the Waitress said, getting up from the floor where she was scrubbing and putting her hands on her hips. “That’s looking pretty good! What do you think?”


    “Yeah,” Jack the Trucker said. “I’d say it’s looking fine.”


    It was, too, Jack thought. He was very pleased with the car detailing equipment, it had really done work on the passenger side seat, where they had dragged the body. “Yeah, I think we’re done here. Thank you for this, by the way.”


    “Cleaning up a crime scene on my first day!” the Waitress crooned. “Exciting stuff! My story is shaping up nicely. I need to go get a shower and change, and you do, too. I also need to pack, so I’ll do that while you’re in the shower.”


    Jack grabbed some clothes from his closet and then he and the Waitress made their way to the trailer, stopping at the hose to clean off their shoes. The shower was sad compared to the one he had had in the truck stop, with tepid water and bad pressure, but he didn’t complain. He was lucky he was able to get a shower at all. That was his opinion. He knew that life on the road didn’t always afford you the opportunity for one.


    He got out and dried himself and put on his new clothes, a pair of milk bone underwear, another J.o.L.T.S Jack o’ Lantern shirt, and a pair of dark blue jeans that had white stars embroidered on it near the feet. He was feeling as fresh as could be and came out to see Jackie the Waitress was completely packed, with a suitcase and two duffel bags.


    “You really like your showers, don’t you?” the Waitress said with a grin. “I hope you didn’t use up all my hot water. And I thought truckers never showered.”


    Jack the Trucker sighed and rolled his eyes at that but otherwise said nothing, wanting to cut the chatter so they could get back on the road as soon as possible. The Waitress made her way to the bathroom with a change of clothes in tow.


    As he waited, Jack the Trucker decided to flip on the television. The news came on, Jackland National News Network, JNNN. They were just finishing up a segment about the secret service member that had killed the president. Apparently, he hadn’t said a single word since his deed. They couldn’t get a thing out of him. The head of the secret service wanted President Jack Two to give him leave to torture him for information, but there had not yet been a response. Next a commercial break. Jack in the Bell, Nimblemart, Jackfuel, xJackx Online Technical College. And then back to the news:


    “We have a report that Speaker of the House Jack Chaos C1, the current most senior member of the Chaos Party, has publicly condemned the assassination of President Jack One. For those Jacks that still don’t know, the president was the most senior member of the Order Party.


    “While a little bit of chaos is good for the story world,” the Speaker of the House said when the news cut to a video feed of somewhere in the capital. He was wearing a business suit that had dozens of company names on it, kind of like the jumpsuits they wear in NASCAR, “and while this turn of events is certainly interesting, we don’t want to descend into complete anarchy. Order and Chaos are the yin and yang of our world. It is its engine, a controlled explosion that powers our country. We need rulers and rulebreakers both existing in unity. I categorically condemn the assassination and call for the secret service member behind it to be skinned alive on national television, so as to send a warning to anyone else that wanton disregard for the law and initiatives of this country is to be met with swift retribution. I call for this even if it comes out that he was, Jack forbid, a fellow Discordian.”


    “Sir, sir!” a voice said from somewhere off camera. “What if he’s the main character, sir? Are you seriously calling for him to be tortured?”


    “I will answer no questions at this time,” the Speaker said, before walking off.


    The video cut back to the newsroom. “Even in the light of this tragedy, we show us coming together as a nation,” a news Jackie said. She had purple curly hair and was wearing a sharp black dress covered in the letter ‘J.’ “a golden outcome for this eventful day. Next up, we’ll be looking at the state of traffic in the Eastern states of our country. With the Reckless Driving Initiative now in full effect—"


    “Done!” the Waitress said, walking out of the bathroom. Her visage had magically changed since she went into the shower. She was still cute and slender, mouselike. All her faces had been cute. She was wearing blue jeans with embroidered flowers at the bottom and a black t-shirt that was for a band called ‘The Jacks,’ the name in fancy font over a sigil of stylized guitars, flowers, and guns.


    “Who are ‘The Jacks’?” Jack the Trucker asked.


    “What?”


    “Your shirt.”


    “Oh,” the Waitress said, looking down at her top. “I don’t know. I guess I’m a fan of them. Maybe we’ll hear them on the radio.”


    “You ready, then?” Jack asked, switching off the television. “Let’s go.”


    The Waitress grabbed her purse and the suitcase while Jack the Trucker grabbed the two duffel bags. They made their way to the truck and situated the belongings in the top bunk and netted them in. They saw the Jack from earlier on his porch staring at them as they drove off. He flipped them the bird.


    They made their way back to the truck stop and as they were pulling in they noticed two cop cars parked at the front of the trailer they were coming to get. The cops were standing outside their cars, standing alongside the line cook and the store clerk. One of them was wearing a trench coat and a fedora, a classic detective getup. The line cook pointed at Jack’s truck when he saw it coming into the parking lot. Jack the Trucker’s wind left him.