《Jackverse: Hit the Road Jack!》


 Chapter 1 - Jacks Compassion

    It was October 11<sup>th</sup> and 10:11 in the morning when the world was synthesized. Hundreds of millions of Jacks had just been created, and none of them knew who the main character was. The main character himself didn¡¯t even know. That main character found himself synthesized in a semi-truck, driving down a highway. The fact that he just came into existence didn¡¯t surprise him nor any of the other drivers on the road with him. From non-existence to existence was a smooth transition, and not a single vehicle even so much as swerved.


    Thank God, Jack the Trucker thought to himself. He was relieved at the fact that he was a simple truck driver, meaning there was no way he was the main character, in his mind. The personality he was synthesized with didn¡¯t want him to have a real role in the story world. Leave main charactering to the more ambitious Jacks. He was fine with just being in the background of this fantasy world.


    He had been synthesized with an understanding of the fact that he was in a story in the Jackverse, but he didn¡¯t have much knowledge besides that. He didn¡¯t know what interstate he was on, where he was going, or what he was hauling. He couldn¡¯t place any city names, although he knew there was only one country in the world, The United States of Jackland.


    He had a GPS on his dashboard, he still had hundreds of miles to go, so it¡¯d be some hours before he reached his destination.


    Just as he had finished his calculation, static came over his radio, and then, when it cleared, a voice came on and said the following message:


    ¡°Uh¡­ hello. This is¡­ DJ Jack, I guess, here at KCAJ. Welcome to the Jackverse. Welcome to existence. I¡¯m here to inform you that our president has just signed the Reckless Driving Initiative into law, which is to cover everyone in this broadcast area. All interstate travel is to be done in a reckless manner, in order to make the world more interesting for whoever the main character is. So you may speed, engage in light road rage, and drive drunk to make the world a more dangerous place.


    ¡°I¡¯m told that representatives from both sides of the political aisle were present at the signing and found it to be a most excellent development. When asked if there was an afterlife for us to go to, the president said he wasn¡¯t sure, so be reckless, but be safe, too. That¡¯s it. This has been DJ Jack. Please now enjoy the song ¡°I don¡¯t know where I am, but I¡¯m home¡± by Jack the Bard, who is performing it live in our studio. And may Jack Himself look over us all.¡±


    Jack Himself look over us all indeed, Jack thought. He didn¡¯t have much time to think to himself before traffic next to him started acting erratically. It was gradually speeding up, so he supposed he should speed up as well. He smashed the accelerator to the floor and started shifting gears. Due to the size of his truck, it was still a rather gradual process.


    Jack the Trucker was driving through a desert landscape, broad and flat. He could see for miles ahead. He rolled down his window. The desert air was a dry heat, and the incoming wind felt good against his flesh. His acceleration steadily increased. So far, speeding was the only thing the vehicles near him were doing. He needed to be careful, as one of them might get it into their head that they needed to start driving crazy. His personality was made in such a way that he didn¡¯t want to be responsible for anyone¡¯s death. There was not yet any indication about what mood Jack Himself was in when he made this world, and no indication that he¡¯d be a benevolent God.


    What was this, anyway? Who was authoring the thoughts of the background characters, if they¡¯re not actually in the main narrative itself? Did he even exist? He thought surely he must, otherwise he¡­ well¡­ he wouldn¡¯t be thinking these thoughts right now, would he? ¡®I think, therefore I am,¡¯ he thought. Yes, he must exist. A voice in his head told him something about a ¡®World Maker,¡¯ a being that creates the backgrounds of fantasy worlds. The stuff that never gets in. But all that was a bit too cosmic to be thinking about. He needed to be in the here and now, for the sake of road safety.


    There was an exit coming up, a town named Jack¡¯s Compassion, an odd sounding name to Jack the Trucker¡¯s ears. He saw on the next sign that there was a Jack¡¯s Truck Service and Eatery at the exit. That¡¯s what he needed to do, to stop and get his bearings. He was feeling hungry, too. He guessed he wasn¡¯t preloaded with breakfast in his belly.


    Before the exit to get off, there was a billboard on display. ¡®Trust in Jack,¡¯ it read. How did he feel about that? Fine, he supposed. He wasn¡¯t a totally devoted believer in The Author, but he did have a little appreciation for the world that had just been made. And he enjoyed existing, too.


    The exit was coming up, so he signaled to change lanes, as he had started out this existence in the fast lane. There was another semitruck that wouldn¡¯t let him in. Jack the Trucker tried slowing down but the other truck slowed down with him. And then when he tried speeding up again, the other truck sped up, too. What a jackass. The exit was coming up soon, and he needed to get over a lane so he could get into Jack¡¯s Compassion.


    The driver of the other truck sped up a bit so that their trucks were right next to one another. He rolled down his window, so Jack the Trucker rolled down his passenger side window as well. The other trucker slowly thrust his hand out of the window and flipped him off. The jackass had black aviator shades on and a wicked grin on his face.


    What was Jack the Trucker going to do? Skip the truck stop? No, he wanted to get off. He at least needed to see where this load was going. He needed to orient himself. He blared his air horn and the other truck responded in kind. Jack the Trucker sighed. He really didn¡¯t want any problems with anyone. He started slowly merging to the right towards the other semi. His large truck and trailer inched over the white lane markers, starting to take up space in the neighboring truck¡¯s own lane. The truck started blaring on his horn again, but Jack the Trucker ignored it. He kept inching over.


    Jack the Trucker saw that the other driver was still grinning wickedly. He watched the other trucker turn his steering wheel a bit to the left. The trucks bumped up against one another. When they did, the other driver threw a Styrofoam fountain drink out his window into Jack the Trucker¡¯s cab, hitting him in the face. It was a Jacka-Cola and would get sticky in the heat of the desert.


    God fucking damn it, Jack the Trucker thought. He resisted the temptation to careen into the other truck. That would be dangerous. Instead, he just started slowing down, way down. He wasn¡¯t going to let this get under his skin. The other trucker started to slow down along with him, keeping his truck even with Jack. Jack the Trucker¡¯s semi then came to a complete halt on the roadway, along with the other truck. Cars behind them were honking, and some of them had taken to driving past them on the shoulders of the two-lane highway.


    Jack the Trucker set the air brakes and then opened his door. He first made sure he wouldn¡¯t get hit by a car driving up the shoulder before jumping down. The sun was getting high in the sky and the desert air was hot, which made him start feeling sticky from the soda that dripped from his face. His shirt was soaked, too. That really pissed him off. Why was the other trucker such a fucking jackass?This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Another car was coming up the inner shoulder of the highway fast, and Jack the Trucker had to dodge out of the way lest he be hit. The car honked at him as it passed, and so Jack flipped him off. When it was clear, he walked around the front of his semi over to the other truck. The jackass was still in his cab, watching Jack the Trucker walk up towards his door. He had on aviators, a trucker¡¯s hat and was wearing a trucker¡¯s vest. There was a toothpick in his mouth that moved as the jackass gave Jack the Trucker a big toothy grin.


    ¡°Get the fuck out of my way!¡± Jack the Trucker said.


    ¡°Why don¡¯tchya make me?¡± Jackass asked.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re the main character or something?¡± Jack the Trucker asked.


    ¡°Could be,¡± Jackass replied. ¡°Shit, it could be you.¡±


    Jack the Trucker laughed bitterly. He wasn¡¯t just dealing with a jackass, but also a dumbass. There were things he knew about the Jackverse, and one thing he knew for sure is that neither of them were the main character. Jackverse was about world ripping powers and deep philosophical conversations about the nature of their fictional reality. It was not about driving a truck in the middle of nowhere. ¡°You don¡¯t actually believe that,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°What I believe? I believe I¡¯m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of you,¡± Jackass said as he opened his door and made his way down to the road. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure about it before, but, yeah, I think that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°For the good of the story.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not in the fucking story, you fucking moron! This is just the background!¡±


    ¡°The whole world¡¯s the story,¡± Jackass said.


    Jack the Trucker didn¡¯t have much time to think about that before he got kicked in the testicles. Pain shot through him like electricity. A lot of pain. This was the first time that he had ever felt pain, and he immediately decided that he didn¡¯t like the sensation. He crouched, cupping his injured area. ¡°Wait!¡± he yelled hoarsely.


    Jackass grabbed Jack the Trucker by the shoulders and threw him to the ground. More pain. Then he started kicking him in the ribcage, causing yet even more. Jack the Trucker grabbed his assailant¡¯s foot during one of those kicks and rolled over with it, bringing Jackass to the ground with him, one leg locked in Jack¡¯s arms.


    Jack the Trucker didn¡¯t want to fight. He didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone. Why did this have to be happening right now? He supposed it was happening all across the story world right now. Hundreds of millions of Jacks, and a portion of them were going to be jackasses. That was how it was in the world above, so that was how it was written to be in the story world. The story world was just a reflection of the real world, after all, and that came with reflecting the bad parts, too. It didn¡¯t have to be that way, though. But Jack the Trucker didn¡¯t have time for these thoughts right now. He-


    Jackass used his free leg and kicked Jack the Trucker in the mouth with his boot. One of his teeth broke in the impact. Jack tried to grab that leg but, in doing so, he lost control of the other one. He didn¡¯t have any real fighting skills to speak of. He hadn¡¯t been created with that knowledge. Fuck this shit. There was no reason he needed to be here, anyway. He wanted to get away.


    Jackass kicked some more and freed himself from Jack¡¯s grip, then he jumped back up to his feet. Jack retreated towards his truck as fast as he could. He got to the passenger side of the cab and opened the door and tried vaulting up the steps, but Jackass grabbed him by the back of his shirt while calling him a coward. Jack held onto the door with all his might. He spun around haphazardly, causing his shirt tear, and kicked Jackass in the mouth with his own boot. Jackass recoiled and fell to the ground, hands to his bleeding mouth.


    Jack the Trucker continued getting back in his cab. He slammed the passenger side door and hurriedly locked it and pressed the button to roll up the window. The window ascended slowly. It got about a third of the way up when Jackass jumped up the steps and grabbed Jack by his head and tried dragging him out through the window itself. Jack had to stop rolling up the window lest he be choked with it.


    Jack the Trucker pushed himself back from the door with as much strength as he could muster. He successfully broke Jackass¡¯s grip on his head and landed backwards in between the two seats in his cab. He was free for a moment.


    So, what should he do now? Jackass would no doubt be up the door any second now trying to unlock it to get inside. Driving away wasn¡¯t an option, the big truck would be too slow. Jack the Trucker scrambled back into his sleeper birth, rushing through the blackout curtains that separated the driving area from the sleeping area. He needed something he could use as a weapon.


    There were closets and compartments in his sleeper berth that would be holding stuff. What they held was a mystery to Jack the Trucker, though. He hadn¡¯t been loaded up with any knowledge of his own supplies. He didn¡¯t have time to rummage through each of them; he needed to think fast. He shot a glance over towards the passenger door again and, just as he had expected, Jackass was up at the window, reaching through for the door lock.


    Jack the Trucker didn¡¯t know the layout of his own supplies, but he knew what should be in any truck on the road. He found a latch under the bed which clicked when he grabbed it. The bed was hinged to the backside of his sleeper berth so that it could open upwards and give access to the exterior supply panels from inside the cab. He quickly found what he was looking for.


    The miniature fire extinguisher was in the supply panel compartment on the right. Jack grabbed it out of its holder and spun around with it just as a bloody Jackass climbed through the now open door. He sprayed Jackass in the face with it, blinding him. Jackass let out a growl as he tried wiping his face off, dazed long enough for Jack to hit him in the head with the canister. It let out a loud, satisfying metallic thump. Jackass fell back toward the truck¡¯s dashboard in a daze.


    ¡°Get the fuck out of my truck!¡± Jack the Trucker screamed. He wailed on Jackass with the extinguisher a second time, breaking his nose and knocking out his front teeth. He hit him again and again. After a few more hits it occurred to Jack that Jackass wasn¡¯t moving any longer. And also, his face was caved in. He let the extinguisher drop from his hands in a stunned silence. He watched the blood drip down in a large pool below his opponent. Jackass didn¡¯t move an inch. He wasn¡¯t breathing. His head was a caved in tomato. He had¡­ he had just killed him.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Jack said aloud. He went to him and checked for a pulse. There was none. ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Jack the Trucker hadn¡¯t wanted to kill him. He didn¡¯t want to be a murderer. Jack hoped against hope for an afterlife. Jackass was a jackass, but he was just acting out the personality and dispositions that he was synthesized with. ¡°God damn it,¡± Jack the Trucker said. ¡°This is, ultimately, your fault, you know? You didn¡¯t have to be such a dick.¡±


    And now what the fuck was Jack supposed to do? Were there police in this world? He wasn¡¯t sure. He could call 911, he supposed, patting the phone in his pocket. It was self-defense, right? Right? He wasn¡¯t sure what the law would say about it. He was no lawyer. There was no telling how serious or comical the legal system was created here to be. No, best he avoid entanglements with the law, at least for now.


    So, what was he going to do? He thought about dumping the body on the roadway and leaving it there. That¡¯s evidence, though. Maybe he could stash the body somewhere and forget about it. What he really needed to do was get his bearings. Figure out a little bit more about the world that had just been created. At that point he could figure out what he needed to do.


    He needed a shower, too. He was covered in blood and soda. And he was damned hungry, too, even still after murdering Jackass. Time to finally get to that truck stop, he thought. Jack the Trucker went up and drug Jackass¡¯s body into the sleeper berth and went through and closed the curtains. Then he closed the passenger side door and got in his driver¡¯s seat. Cars were streaming in front of the two trucks, having driven over the shoulders. He looked over at Jackass¡¯s truck. A Jackbilt 379, an older model of truck. Everything was just created, but some stuff was older than others. The name ¡°JJJ Trucking¡± was emblazoned on the door. ¡°Rest in peace, you fucking asshole,¡± he said back to his dead passenger.


    Jack the Trucker unlocked his airbrakes and put the truck in gear. Then he started slowly taking off, eager to get to the truck stop and take care of business. He rode down the interstate a ways and signaled to change to the right lane. He had to assert himself over the four wheelers to get in there, but they let him in in the end.


    Jack the Trucker was still bleeding and sore, still missing a tooth and in a ripped shirt. Still sticky. His truck¡¯s cab was in no better state, there was blood everywhere.


    ¡°Welcome to Jack¡¯s Compassion,¡± the sign read as Jack took his exit. ¡°All good things come from Jack.¡±

 Chapter 2 - Jacks Truck Service and Eatery

    Jack¡¯s Compassion was a sad little rundown town in the middle of the desert. Why was it rundown? A fantasy world could just as easily have all new stuff, Jack the Trucker thought. All its people could be rich and live fancy lives. That wasn¡¯t how it was in this story world, though. That wasn¡¯t how the author made things. Jack¡¯s Compassion indeed.


    Jack the Trucker pulled into Jack¡¯s Truck Service and Eatery and found he was the only trucker there. He found a parking spot far from he entrance and set his air brakes. He took a few minutes to sit back in his seat to relax and reflect on all that had happened in such a short amount of time since the story world began.


    Jack had a broken tooth, he was covered in blood and wounds, and his shirt was ripped. There was a corpse behind him just past the curtains of his sleeper berth. He had just been materialized as a background character in a freshly made fantasy world that he hardly knew anything about it. As a matter of fact, he hardly knew anything about himself or where he was, either.


    Jack reached for the phone in his pocket. It was a smartphone, which was good, but he frowned at the message that came up when he turned the screen on: ¡°We don¡¯t want the main character, whoever they are, just sitting on their phone for hours, all features except for phone, text, camera, and GPS are temporarily disabled.¡±


    He swiped the message away and confirmed for himself that the phone only had the most basic of necessities available. Phone, text, camera, and GPS. No internet, then? How was he supposed to learn anything about the world without access to the internet? There wasn¡¯t even a phonebook app on the thing, just a keypad to enter numbers manually! How was he supposed to call his company? Now wasn¡¯t the time to think about that, though. It was time to prioritize.


    Jack the Trucker needed a shower, but before he could get one, he needed to do something about all the blood that covered him. He couldn¡¯t waltz into the truck stop covered in blood. He threw off the rags of his torn shirt and then rummaged around in the numerous compartments of his truck, careful to step around the corpse of his dead assailant. He found some Jack Wipes in one of the compartments, so he used that to get off the worst of the blood, including much of the blood on his tan work boots. There were celtic sailor¡¯s knots burnt into them, and on his black jeans were columns of embroidered white skulls that went down the length of his pants legs. A bit flashy, in his opinion, but maybe it was normal here. He went back to his closet and looked for a new shirt to wear.


    Every one of Jack the Trucker¡¯s shirts was orange. Every one of them. In fact, the exterior of his truck was orange, too, he realized upon reflection. Curious, he stepped out of his cab and down onto the pavement still shirtless. He had a newer model Jackliner Jackadia and it was all orange with black pinstripes. He saw the name ¡®Jack o¡¯ Lantern Trucking Services¡¯ written on his door. When he went around to the front of the truck, he noticed the initialism J.O.L.T.S. written above his windshield, the ¡®O¡¯ a little Jack o¡¯ Lantern. There was a large one made of orange and yellow lights tied to the front grill of his truck, too. He sighed.


    Jack got back in his truck and grabbed a more muted orange shirt to put on, it had a Jack o¡¯ Lantern face on the front and J.O.L.T.S. on the back, and then grabbed his shower bag hanging from the door of his closet. He made his way through the parking lot, through the fuel islands, and into the truck stop. He saw a clerk sitting at the check-out counter reading a magazine called Beanstalk, which Jack the Trucker somehow knew was a periodical that covered all matter of subjects, from looking one¡¯s best to financial advice to survival skills to news from all across the story world. The clerk was in a light green polo that had the name of the truck stop above the left breast pocket. He also had green glowing irises that matched his polo.


    The clerk jumped when he noticed Jack the Trucker. ¡°A customer!¡± he said. ¡°Uh¡­ can I help you?¡±


    ¡°I need a shower,¡± Jack the Trucker said.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be ten Jackbucks.¡±


    Jack the Trucker pulled out his wallet and opened it. There was a golden coin inside, but he was a little light on paper money. ¡°I¡¯m your first customer, aren¡¯t I? You should give me a discount.¡±


    ¡°This ain¡¯t no charity shop, pal,¡± the clerk said, eyes furrowed. ¡°Ten Jackbucks or you can hit the road.¡±


    Jack the Trucker sighed. Another jackass. How many of them could there be? He pulled out a tenner from his wallet and handed it to the clerk, who grabbed it stingily and set it next to his register. The clerk printed out a receipt and handed it to Jack. It had a code to let him into one of the shower rooms: 10010311.


    When Jack got into his shower room he went to the mirror. He was handsome for right now, save for his missing tooth. Handsome and ripped and with light blue glowing irises. The jackass that attacked him and the store clerk had been handsome and muscular, too, for that matter, so maybe this world only had attractive people in it. That¡¯s a cool perk of living in the Jackverse, he thought. Everyone started equal. Jacks would magically and automatically cycle looks every so often so as to allow the readers freedom in their imaginings of what the characters looked like, and to switch things up a bit. Not that that meant that Jacks couldn¡¯t distinguish between one another through these changes. It was a magical sense. He wondered how much magic was in this world. Any tropes from fantasy to horror to science fiction were fair game in the Jackverse.


    Jack the Trucker¡¯s belly started to gurgle. He sat down on the toilet that was in the room and took him a good long dump. Why would fictional characters need to use the bathroom, Jack wondered. They could have just as easily done without that fact of nature in their fantasy world, but here he was. He used his time to examine the contents of his wallet. He first went to the golden coin.


    On the front of the coin was the face of Jack Himself, the face of the actual author of the world. The front of the coin had the inscription ¡®In Jack We Trust¡¯ on it. On the reverse face was a picture of a skull, with the inscription ¡®Memento Mori¡¯ on it.


    Death. Jack the Trucker was mortal. He could die. He could have easily died earlier on the interstate. His thoughts turned to the jackass. He was dead. Hopefully there was some kind of afterlife. That¡¯d be nice. And it¡¯s something that could easily exist in the Jackverse, should Jack Himself will it. There was no reason not to have one, Jack thought, but then again, there was no reason to make him have to use the bathroom


    Other than that, in his wallet, he had twenty jackbucks left. He had his commercial driver¡¯s license, which showed his current visage and would magically change along with him. His name was Jack 6A61636B and he was from a place called Spratsberg, Jacksylvania, wherever that was. He had a credit card, a debit card, insurance cards, a med card, a social security card, a joker playing card, a ¡®get out of jail free¡¯ card, and a few business cards to various people: a lawyer, a doctor, an accountant, his dispatcher, et cetera. He wondered what kind of money he had on his debit card. He¡¯d have to call the bank at some point and see, as he was low on paper money. He¡¯d need to call his company, too.


    Jack finished up on the pot and cleaned himself and then disrobed and got into the walk-in shower along with all his showering accoutrements: his shampoo, conditioner, face wash, and so on. The hot steamy water felt good on his wounded, sticky body, and it was nice to get the rest of the blood out of his crevices. He felt at the tooth that had been knocked out. Screw the jackass that had attacked him. Jack still had to hide his body, too, he reflected as he washed himself. He wondered how long it would be before highway patrol got around to investigating Jackass¡¯s abandoned truck. Would they just have it hauled off or would they investigate it further? Maybe stopping at a truck stop this close to the crime scene was a bad move.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Jack said aloud to nobody. ¡°What comes, comes.¡± It wouldn¡¯t be too bad anyway, with everyone being ordered to drive wildly. There were bound to be crashes everywhere. The highway patrol would be too busy to deal with some random missing trucker. He was going to finish his shower slowly and go and get himself a nice hot meal, consequences be damned.


    Jack finished his washing routine and stood there in the hot shower water for a while, his mind empty, focusing only on the sensation of the water hitting his body. After that he washed his boots as best he could and then got out, put on some deodorant, brushed his teeth, and dressed himself.


    Jack the trucker found the eatery as empty as the rest of the truck stop. He took a seat at the counter and placed his shower bag in the seat next to him. He took a few minutes to look over the menu and then dinged the bell on the counter. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the waitress come through the kitchen doors.


    ¡°J¡­ Jill?¡± Jack asked breathlessly, his wind knocked out of him. ¡°Is¡­ is that you?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°No,¡± the Waitress said with a scowl.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°¡­What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m like you, idiot. I¡¯m a Jack.¡±


    ¡°H¡­ how?¡±


    ¡°Jack, in His eternal glory, decided to put me in a female body. I don¡¯t know why, but there are others that are the same way. We¡¯re called Jackies, or at least that¡¯s what they said on the news. Jill doesn¡¯t exist in this world.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Jack said. That made sense. The woman was far too slender and young looking to be a Jill. She was short, more cute than beautiful, with large round eyes with glowing pink irises. She had short pink hair in a pixie cut and she was wearing a classic diner waitress uniform, light blue with white collar and cuffs. It was printed all over in stylized ¡®J¡¯s. She was also wearing an apron with the name of the truck stop on it.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jackie the waitress said. ¡°So what do you want?¡±


    ¡°What do I want?¡±


    ¡°To eat, numbskull!¡± she said, getting out a notebook and pen. ¡°Jack created you kind of dumb, didn¡¯t He?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Jack said, fumbling the menu. ¡°Uh¡­ I think I¡¯ll have the flapjacks. And a glass of orange juice. ¡­ Or wait, you know what? Do you have any vodka? Make me a screwdriver.¡±


    The Waitress rolled her eyes at that but finished writing with a flourish and went over and put the ticket on the order wheel at the serving hatch and spun it towards the kitchen and dinged a bell. A cook came up and took the ticket. Then the Waitress went back to the kitchen herself.


    Jack was a cruel God, Jack the Trucker thought to himself. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d think had he woken up as a woman. Still though, it could be much worse. The imagination could conjure up any number of depravities. Luckily this world, while full of jackasses, was still somewhat benign. He wasn¡¯t currently on fire and he wasn¡¯t being skinned alive, so Jack Himself wasn¡¯t completely evil.


    The Waitress returned after a few minutes with a glass of iced orange juice that even had a sliced orange on the rim. Jack the Trucker took a deep sip from it, almost gagging. Maybe ordering orange juice after brushing his teeth was a bad move. Still, he enjoyed the sensation of the vodka as it ran down his throat. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said.


    The Waitress looked at him for a few moments critically. Jack stared back briefly but then looked away awkwardly. He had thought the world was just going to be full of Jacks¡­ ¡®male¡¯ Jacks. ¡°You¡¯re a trucker, right?¡± she asked. ¡°Where are you headed?¡±


    ¡°Jack Sin City. It¡¯s east of here.¡±


    ¡°I know where it¡¯s at,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°Jack didn¡¯t load you with any geographic knowledge? And you¡¯re supposed to be a trucker?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ no. I don¡¯t even know where I live. It¡¯s in a place called Spratsberg, Jacksylvania. Where is that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s further west. The world is just a copy of the United States, except flipped. North is south. East is west. The big cities are the same, location-wise, but the in-between is different. Jacksylvania is Pennsylvania, Spratsberg is probably Pittsburgh. There¡¯s no Mexico or Canada, just the Jackadian and Jaxican seas. What happened to your face?¡±


    ¡°Fight. I don¡¯t want to get into it,¡± Jack said, taking another bitter sip of his screwdriver.


    ¡°You start it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ve been watching the news,¡± the Waitress said, nodding to a television that hung on the wall. ¡°It¡¯s a little chaotic out there from what I¡¯ve seen. Lot of jackasses. The president was just assassinated by a secret service member on live tv.¡±


    ¡°Jesus!¡± Jack the Trucker exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not good! The president?! Did¡­ did the news say if there¡¯s any afterlife?¡±


    ¡°There was a report on the news. There¡¯s a small group of Jacks that are Christians. They say they¡¯ll go to heaven when they die.¡±


    ¡°Christian Jacks, really? I¡­ I never considered that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s jacking stupid! We don¡¯t have souls! We¡¯re not even really alive! How are we supposed to go to the in-real-life heaven when we don¡¯t have in-real-life souls? There¡¯s this other group that says there¡¯s an in-universe heaven for us. They¡¯re called Jackitarian Jackiversalists. They¡¯ve got a bible, too, and they say it says there¡¯s an afterlife.¡±


    ¡°A book created by Jack Himself? It says there¡¯s an afterlife?¡±


    ¡°Technically yes, it was created by Jack Himself, but everything¡¯s been created by Jack. All the truth, all the lies. The in-universe religion may just be a critique of the in-real-life religions. That¡¯s what some people are saying, anyway. Let¡¯s get off that, though. I want to talk about Jack Sin City.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about it.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it. It¡¯s Las Vegas, for starters. You know there¡¯s magic and sci-fi stuff in the world, right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°I want to go to Jack Sin City. I want to find a gender bender machine. Or gender bender wizard. Whatever it is.¡±


    ¡°You really think that exists in this world? Why would Jack write it so you were all females if you could just change it later? Jack made you how he wanted you.¡±


    ¡°He made me to want to change,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°I don¡¯t think Jack would have written me that way if he didn¡¯t want me to make that my personal arc.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have an arc,¡± Jack the Trucker said. ¡°You¡¯re not the main character. You and me, we¡¯re not even in the story.¡±


    ¡°The whole world¡¯s the story,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°How else would we exist if we weren¡¯t in a story?¡±


    ¡°The World Maker,¡± Jack the Trucker said. ¡°Jack makes the story, the World Maker does all the background stuff, the stuff that never makes it in. No one knows who or what the World Maker is, not even Jack Himself.¡±


    ¡°The World Maker and Jack are the same thing.¡±


    ¡°Impossible,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a million million Jacks across a million million in-real-life parallel universes,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°All of them writing each individual Jack in this story world.¡±


    ¡°The vast majority of people¡¯s lives are boring and uneventful,¡± Jack said. ¡°Those parallel universe Jacks would, in your theory, be mainly writing uninteresting stories. You really think any Jack wants to write about a waitress working some truck stop in the middle of nowhere? Or some random trucker who just drives all day, every day? The Jackverse is about larger than life characters, interesting people.¡±


    ¡°I think everyone lives an interesting life in their own way,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°Jack Himself is making an artistic statement. And besides, look at the state of the world we live in. There¡¯s enough interesting stuff happening to make interesting stories from anyone¡¯s perspective. You yourself got into a fight earlier.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s only one main character in this world,¡± Jack said. ¡°And no one knows who that is. That¡¯s a canon fact. And that character will be the most interesting Jack in the world, not somebody like us.¡±


    ¡°Even if what you say is true,¡± Jackie the Waitress said, ¡°which I don¡¯t believe that it is, but for the sake of argument, even then, Jack Himself wouldn¡¯t want the True Main Character to be able to tell he was the main character, would he?¡± the Waitress said. ¡°As soon as a few interesting things happened to them then they¡¯d know they were the main character. They¡¯d know they were on a hero¡¯s journey. But if everyone in the world is on their own hero¡¯s journey, if everyone has a story, then the True Main Character would never be able to tell that theirs was the One True Character Arc.¡±


    ¡°That¡­,¡± Jack said, trailing off, unable to think of a response.


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°That¡¯s canon.¡±


    ¡°That is not canon,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Well, I think it¡¯s canon,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°Or at least it is in my story. The physics of this universe is such that everyone gets a personal story arc.¡±


    Jack thought about that for a moment, working it out in his mind.


    ¡°Order up!¡± the cook yelled from the kitchen.


    The Waitress walked back and got a steaming plate of flapjacks from the serving hatch and brought it back to Jack the Trucker along with a pitcher of syrup. Jack buttered his hotcakes and drizzled syrup over the stack. He took a bite and slowly chewed it for a moment, thoughtful, him and the Waitress looking at one another.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Jack the Trucker finally said.


    ¡°Alright? Alright what?¡± the Waitress asked.


    ¡°You win,¡± Jack said. ¡°The argument, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Just like that?¡± the Waitress asked.


    ¡°At least for now. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s right, of course, but you¡¯ve won the debate for the time being. I¡¯ll have to think about it. I¡¯ll give you my thoughts when I come back through these parts, but it might be a while.¡±


    ¡°Can I come with you?¡±


    ¡°You want to come with me?¡± Jack said with a mouth full of flapjack.


    ¡°My character wasn¡¯t given knowledge of how to drive, and I don¡¯t have a car. I could carjack somebody and wing it, but I¡¯d prefer to stay a good guy.¡±


    ¡°You really believe all that about having your own story, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°Can we stop by my place so I can pick up a few things? It¡¯s really close by.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t said yes yet,¡± Jack said, taking a sip of his screwdriver.


    ¡°Yet,¡± the Waitress repeated with a grin. ¡°Well, when you do, can we plan to stop by my place first?¡±


    Jack sighed. Then he remembered about the body in his truck cab. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to bring you along.¡±


    ¡°Why not? This is a perfectly reasonable thing to have happen in your story. You really want to spend your time in existence all alone?¡±


    Jack dawdled. It did sound like a fun thing to do. It sounded like an adventure. He may not be the main character, but he could still do fun things, couldn¡¯t he? What would she say about the body, though? Maybe he could stash it, clean his truck, and then come get her later, making out like he changed his mind. Another trucker could come in at any time, though, and she could hitch a ride with them¡­.


    ¡°I may have killed somebody,¡± Jack the Trucker finally said, breaking eye contact.


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ and¡­ and maybe their body is in my truck¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe?¡± the Waitress asked.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jack replied.


    ¡°Are you a serial killer?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Truckers are known for that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a serial killer!¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°Serial killers are only serial killers if they kill multiple people. Now that I think about it, you probably only had time to kill the one guy, didn¡¯t you? Tell me he had it coming, though. You¡¯re like¡­ a good serial killer, right?¡±


    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t have it coming!


    ¡°So you kill randomly?¡±


    ¡°No! I mean¡­ God¡­ I mean nobody has it coming. It was an accident. We were fighting and I got heated and I accidentally killed him. He attacked me for literally no reason! He came into my truck!¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what happened then why didn¡¯t you just call the cops?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to go to prison.¡±


    ¡°It would have been self-defense!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what the legal system is like here. The... the president was just assassinated. There¡¯s too much chaos to not be overly cautious.¡±


    ¡°True¡­ true¡­,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°So can I come with you?¡±


    ¡°You still want to come with me? Maybe¡­ maybe I am a serial killer. What then?¡±


    ¡°Then I guess I¡¯ll see if the Jackiversalists are right. Or maybe I could be your sidekick.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t want to wait for somebody else?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll do,¡± the Waitress said.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Jack the Trucker said softly.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Okay,¡± Jack finally said.

 Chapter 3 - Transporting the Body

    Jack the Trucker finished his flapjacks and drank the rest of his screwdriver while the Waitress was in the kitchen letting the line cook know that she was going to leave with him. The news played on the television on the wall.


    ¡°¡­mourns the loss of the first president of the United States of Jackland, President Jack One¡± a Jack on the news said. ¡°The secret service member that allegedly killed him has been detained and is reportedly undergoing questioning by officials. The entire nation wants to know why he did it. Was he a radical member of the Order Party upset over the Reckless Driving Initiative? Or maybe he was a radical of the Chaos Party, thinking it didn¡¯t go far enough. Or he could have just been unhinged. No one knows anything at this point. This is the first major piece of news of this story world, and people are even wondering if that secret service member could be the main character. We¡¯re joined here by Jack the Professor of Violence at Jackmouth College, an expert on violence of all types. Professor, tell us, what do you make of all this?¡±


    ¡°Well first I¡¯d like to thank you for having me,¡± the Professor said, being connected by satellite from his college office. ¡°This is an exciting development for the story world. The Kennedy assassination was the last time a president of the United States had been assassinated in the real world, and that was by a lone gunman. This situation, however, is markedly different with a secret service member being the shooter, a member of an organization who, in the real world, is trusted the most with the president¡¯s life. What does it say about the nature of our world that the most¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡­he¡¯s killed somebody!¡± a male voice yelled from the kitchen in the back of the eatery.


    ¡°It was self-defense!¡± the Waitress yelled back.


    So, the line cook now knows Jack the Trucker killed somebody. This wasn¡¯t good, Jack reflected. Who else would he tell? Would he call the cops? Maybe agreeing to bring the Waitress with him had been a mistake. And he had wanted an adventure. God he was so stupid, he thought. He considered making a run for it right then and there, but the Waitress came through the door as he was getting out a tenner to leave on the counter to pay.


    ¡°You told him?¡± Jack the Trucker asked.


    ¡°No,¡± the Waitress said, taking her apron off and throwing it on the counter and grabbing her purse. ¡°He overheard our conversation from the back. He¡¯s a sneaky little jackoff. But he¡¯ll be fine. He¡¯s just mad that he¡¯s going to have to take the orders now. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re slammed anyway. You¡¯re done eating?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    Jack the Trucker walked hastily out of the eatery and through the truck stop towards the doors, the Waitress following behind him.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± the clerk asked the Waitress.


    ¡°I just quit!¡± she said gleefully. ¡°I¡¯m going to Jack Sin City!¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± the clerk said, flipping a page of his Beanstalk magazine.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± the Waitress told Jack.


    She went up to the clerk. ¡°Give me a pack of Jacky Strikes.¡±


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± Jack the Trucker said.


    ¡°Five Jackbucks,¡± the Clerk said.


    The Waitress paid and got the pack of smokes. Then she and Jack the Trucker made their way out of the truck stop and over to Jack¡¯s truck. Outside it was hotter than before as it approached noon.


    ¡°You drive a pumpkin,¡± the Waitress said.


    ¡°Jack o¡¯ Lantern Trucking Services, at your service,¡± Jack said. ¡°Now let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the rush? Don¡¯t we have to hide the body?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want your boyfriend back in the eatery calling the cops on us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a man, dude,¡± the Waitress said, scowling. ¡°A straight man. Or at least I¡¯m going to be as soon as we find a gender bender machine. Or wizard.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s go!¡± Jack the Trucker said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about Cook, he¡¯s sneaky but he wouldn¡¯t call the cops. You can trust me on that.¡±


    ¡°You and he were just created earlier today, how can you be sure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± the Waitress said.


    Jack thought about it for a moment. He sighed. He looked over the flat plain of desert over towards the interstate. He could see that the jackass¡¯s truck was still there, no cops or crashes around it either, just cars flying past it at breakneck speeds. It hadn¡¯t even turned into a bottleneck, the interstate didn¡¯t have enough traffic density for that. ¡°Okay,¡± he finally said. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Jack unlocked his truck door and opened it and got in. He looked around inside at all the blood everywhere, along with the legs and boots peeking out from underneath the sleeper berth curtains. ¡°It¡¯s pretty bad,¡± he said. ¡°I can do this on my own.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°If it¡¯s that bad then you need the help.¡±


    The Waitress climbed into the truck behind Jack and looked at the grisly scene. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding, were you?¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± Jack the Trucker said.


    ¡°So what happened, again?¡± the Waitress asked, taking a seat on the passenger side.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Jack sighed and took his seat and then went through the story of his morning. He recounted everything, from the jackass not letting him off the exit to slowing down to a stop on the freeway to the fight in between the trucks to the jackass coming into his truck and Jack ultimately killing him.


    ¡°What a jackass,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°I¡¯m glad he¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Jack said. ¡°He was only acting as he was created to do.¡±


    ¡°And so were you,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°And so am I. So how do you want to do this?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± Jack said. ¡°I¡¯ve never done this¡ªer, I mean I don¡¯t know what to do in this situation.¡±


    ¡°We could chop him up into bits and put him in a trash bag,¡± Jackie the Waitress said.


    ¡°That¡¯ll take time. I want to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± Jackie said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going back to my place so I can pick up some things. We could drop him in my septic tank.  That and I¡¯ve got plenty of cleaning supplies there.¡±


    Jack thought about that for a few moments. He didn¡¯t know what the right answer was, but he wanted to get back on the road and away from here as soon as possible. ¡°Okay,¡± he finally said. ¡°Am I going to be able to get to your place in this big truck?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Jackie the Waitress said. ¡°That might be a little difficult.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bobtail,¡± Jack said. He grabbed a large padlock from the compartment above his seat and hopped out of the truck. He was putting down the trailer¡¯s landing gear when the Waitress came down and joined him. He finished cranking the feet and went and unhooked the airlines and released the fifth wheel. Then he moved to the back of the trailer to lock it up.


    ¡°What are you hauling, anyway?¡± Jackie the Waitress asked, following him..


    ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± Jack the trucker replied.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you curious?¡± Jackie asked.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter to me,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s see,¡± Jackie said.


    There was no seal on the doors, so Jack opened them up. Inside were numerous large crates on pallets. They hopped up into the back and looked inside the first one and found that it was full of blackjacks.


    They were just packaged haphazardly in a pile in the box. Jack and the Waitress each pulled out a blackjack and confirmed that they were real.


    ¡°Blackjacks?¡± the Waitress asked.


    ¡°Blackjacks.¡± Jack the Trucker replied.


    They opened another crate and found this one was full of tasers, all loaded into a crate without any real care.


    Curious, they opened the rest of the crates. There were more batons and tasers, bullet proof vests, 2-way radios. Shotguns and pistols and ammunition, too, although they saw the ammo was non-lethal, bean bag rounds and rubber bullets. There was also some full of drones and controllers. There was a crate full of Halloween masks and stage makeup, which didn¡¯t make any sense to Jack.


    ¡°Where are you taking this all anyway? A police station?¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case then why the masks? The bill of lading is back in the cab.¡±


    There was a box in the very front of the trailer, too. It was about three and a half feet long. Curious, Jack opened it up. Inside was a gold plated JK-47, along with a box of real ammunition for it. Jack and Jackie both marveled at the gun, but Jack quickly closed the lid and put it back where he found it.


    ¡°That¡¯s nice!¡± Jackie exclaimed. ¡°I bet that¡¯s worth a lot of money.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not ours.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was!¡±


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go,¡± Jack said, making his way to exit the trailer.


    He closed the doors and put on his padlock and then they both got back to the cab and took their seats and Jack the Trucker got out the bill of lading. They were delivering to the Jack Sin City Jacklegiant Stadium. On the GPS it showed that it was in the middle of the city itself. ¡°I hate delivering to cities,¡± Jack the Trucker said. ¡°It¡¯s always so cramped.¡±


    ¡°What do you think it¡¯s for?¡± Jackie the Waitress asked. ¡°It¡¯s got to be a cop convention, or something, masks or not. It is October, after all. Maybe it¡¯s a cop/Halloween convention.¡±


    ¡°God that¡¯d be just my luck. Kill a man in the morning and go to the cop Mecca in the evening.¡±


    ¡°We need to hide the body and clean up the truck,¡± Jackie said.


    Jack the Trucker didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He pulled his tractor away from the trailer and bobtailed out through the parking lot towards the road. On his way out, he saw the line cook outside the truck stop taking a video of them with his smartphone, the clerk was with him having a smoke, staring them down. Jack pointed this out and said, ¡°I don¡¯t like that.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just trying to intimidate us,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°He won¡¯t call the cops.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I swear. He¡¯s good people.¡±


    ¡°And the clerk?¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really know him, to be honest. Cook wouldn¡¯t tell him anything. Take a right at the road, in towards town.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Jack¡¯s Compassion looked even worse up close. The people were living in absolutely impoverished conditions and there were four separate bars for the small town. Jackie the Waitress gave directions, and it wasn¡¯t long before they were at her mobile home. It was on the outskirts of town, with lots of space around it. Jack liked that, hopefully that meant there were fewer prying eyes. Jack pulled into the driveway and set his air brakes.


    ¡°The septic is around the back,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ uh¡­ got a rug? Do you want to use that to cover him?¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a movie!¡± Jack the Trucker said, feeling frustrated.


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a fictional story,¡± Jackie the Waitress said. ¡°Nothing wrong with using some tropes, eh?¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should cut him up, like you said,¡± Jack said, ¡°but that¡¯d still take too long! Damn it!¡±


    ¡°We got all the time we need, man,¡± Jackie said.


    ¡°No,¡± Jack said, ¡°we need to get back on the road. I¡¯m done with this place. Get the rug.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± the Waitress said, leaving the truck and heading toward her trailer.


    Maybe he should leave her here, Jack the Trucker thought. He could deal with the body later. It¡¯d be just his luck, though, that he¡¯d run into a weight station and get stopped for an inspection. No, better to deal with this now.


    The Waitress came back with a large rug in tow. It was a large shaggy purple rug, which Jack thought maybe meant it would be more absorbent. She brought it into the truck awkwardly and maneuvered it so that it was in between their two seats. ¡°This is going to suck,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s too cramped. Let¡¯s just pull him out on my side and roll him up on the ground.¡±


    ¡°We do it in the truck,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°There¡¯s no one to see on this side,¡± the Waitress said. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine!¡±


    Jack looked out the passenger side window. What the Waitress said was true. There was nothing out there but desert as far as the eye could see. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°Okay.¡±


    The Waitress hopped over the body towards the bed in the sleeper and grabbed the corpse at the armpits. Jack the Trucker got his legs, and they heaved. The body was heavy and awkward and the whole ordeal of getting it up and out of the walkway and over the passenger side seat and out the door was a Herculean task. It got blood all over the seat. Jack slipped on the steps down from the passenger side and fell to the ground, and the body fell on top of him, Jackie the Waitress having lost control of it.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Jackie said. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Jack shoved the body off him. He was covered in blood again. Great. ¡°Just get the rug,¡± he said from the ground.


    Jackie threw the rug down on top of the corpse and hopped down from the truck. Rolling the body up in it was positively easy after the hassle of getting the corpse out of the truck.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a wheelbarrow,¡± she said.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Jack said.


    Jackie the Waitress ran off and came back with a large blue wheelbarrow. They picked up the rug covered corpse and threw it in and started rolling it towards the back of the Waitress¡¯s trailer.


    ¡°Hey, hey, hey!¡± a cheerful voice said from the street.


    Jack the Trucker felt his stomach drop. There was a Jack on the street, staring at them and smiling like a fool.

 Chapter 4 - Dumping the Body

    ¡°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¡ª


    ¡°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<sup>th</sup> 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¡ª"


    ¡°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.