Biggie and Ed had been more than just friends for well over 20 years. Best buddies since the hitman had persuaded the former professor to give up his life in academia, and go and do something interesting. The two of them performed different functions in their dysfunctional friendship. While Ed was the driving force behind most of what they'd got up to, Biggie was the brakes. The voice of reason within the chaotic insanity that was Ed. In some ways they'd rubbed off on one another. Not in that way of course, get your mind out of the gutter. They were both straight. Biggie had become more impulsive and Ed had learned a smidgeon of self control. It was in short supply so used sparingly.
It wasn't Biggie's fault. Six weeks of trying to shepherd Ed towards retrieving the lost ones, had worn down some of his resolve. Ed's enthusiasm had become infectious. Biggie's partial immunity had worn off. He'd agreed to the bucket list thing after too many hot dogs and far too much theme park excitement. There was no plan for things to go according to. This made both of them far more inventive and creative. This was a bad thing in some ways. The first clue being the sinking of the Hindenburg, followed by the blowing up of the Titanic. There was no need to learn from history when you could fuck about with it to your heart's content.
Flush with the success of their inspired shenanigans they both became giddy. Excitedly exploring all those stupid, lame brained excesses men are prone to. Ed and Biggie had become childish. The fault of that inner child of Ed's in all probability. It was all very well doing the big complicated things like sinking an airship. The simple fact was that doing silly things took a lot less preparation and they were a lot more fun. Which was why they ended up in this dive bar. Being silly. Biggie standing on the pool table with the two broken halves of a cue in either hand. Ed swinging the leg of a barstool. Taking on all comers. This wasn't an establishment you went to to pick fights. It was a bar where the fights picked you. Clubbing left and right Biggie kicked the 9 all right into the face of his next opponent. Neither of them was unscathed of course. They relished every bruise.
They were on a roll after that. Next stop was gatecrashing a garden party at Buckingham Palace. Regrettably hosted by one of the lesser Royal's. The Queen was on a state visit to Poland. From there they moved on to a fashion show in Milan, where they first threw fashion models off the catwalk, then security and a couple of designers. Over the next few days they eventually exhausted their playfulness. Biggie had strained his shoulder punching a wrestler in the groin, while Ed had been lightly stabbed a few times. During an argument about kittens. It was his own fault. He shouldn't have pushed it. The woman was quite justified in trying to hack him to death.
The two of them sat on a grassy tuffet. Battered and bruised. Their clothing torn and dirty. Laughing their heads off as they threw bread at some ducks. Having stunned a fair few of them they finally relaxed. Ed pulled two cigars and a couple of cold beers out of his pocket. Sharing this bounty with his best friend. Opening their cans they both took a long draft of the amber fluid.
"Why are we here again?" Biggie asked rhetorically.
"Is that a trick question?" Ed responded, pressing his glasses back on his nose.
His friends head rotated towards him.
"How could it be a trick question? I already know the answer. Although I suppose to you it could be viewed as a trick question. Assuming it isn't, a trick question, what would your answer be?"
"How many goes do I get?"
Biggie shoved Ed's shoulder playfully.
"As many as you like. It's not multiple choice though. You can't pick option C I'm afraid."
"Damn. That's my goto option for multiple choice questions. This is a guess. I'm going to say we're here to find thingummy, whatchamacallit and the other one." He looked at his friend expectantly. "How did I do on the test?"
"A lot better than I expected Ed. Have we got this out of our systems yet, do you think? Are we likely to start searching for Caroline, Daisy and Andy until they find you?"
"It's a strong possibility."
"Unless you get distracted again."
Ed clapped his hands on his thighs.
"No. I'm putting 100% effort into this from now on. Playtime is over for me. Of course you're an adult, you can make your own decisions as far as these things go. I'm not going to force you. Stop rolling your eyes. I mean it. No more distractions for me."
Biggie stood up, dusting himself down. Ed joined him.
"So how do we do this thing then? How do we get them to find you? And before you answer, please bear in mind simple is always best."
His friend delved into his pocket once more.
"Well in that case, you're going to love this." He announced, drawing forth a broken compass. "All we have to do is follow a bearing of 359 degrees."
"Given we've got all of time and space to go through, how long do you reckon it will take?"
"I don't know. I've never left it this long before following the bearing. Your guess is as good as mine. Normally it only takes hours. As long as nobody's been eaten. That always causes delays."
The hot spring was far behind them now. Daisy and Caroline strolled across the grass, while Andy was skipping. Even a backpack stuffed full of 50 pounds of dried hallucinogenic mushrooms, wasn't going to slow him down. Not while he was tripping balls at least. The ladies had chanced across a very handy way to make him slightly less annoying. He still talked bollocks a lot of the time, but it was interesting and amusing bollocks for a change. You just had to have a very broad interpretation of the word interesting. The amusement consisted of Andy's erratic behavior. One moment he was scampering ahead of them, the next he was staring intently at a rock. Most of which he attempted to engaged in conversation. His underwear was out of sight for now, but there were other compensations.
Panting like an excited dog he flashed past them, before coming to a halt about 50 yards ahead. As the ladies caught up they found him staring at his hands. Turning them slowly, his eyes riveted to their movements. He engaged eyeball zoom. It was now a thing he did, while smacked off his tits. His hands moved up until they covered his eyes. After examining them he looked around. Searching for something, the women assumed.
"What's up Andy?" Caroline inquired as they drew level.
His head was twitching, meerkat like. He flapped at some invisible objects.
"I don't think he heard you." Daisy observed.
A messianic look overtook his average features.
"Oh I hear everything. I see everything. I taste everything. Only by doing so can I achieve harmony with the being and doing of creation. My life is to ponder its mysteries."
"So what mystery are you pondering right now?" The blonde continued.
Andy brought his hands up to his eyes again.
"I've lost all the hairs on the palms of my hands young novitiate. Is this a portent of that which is to come? A warning sent back from the future? I've searched my pockets, but all I can find is fluff. The voices in my head aren't telling me their secrets, apart from their recipe for parsley dumplings. I must return to the old ways before I am undone."
Daisy turned to Caroline.
"See what I mean? He really is better company when he's under the influence of powerful pharmaceuticals. If it wasn't for those mushrooms he'd be boring our asses off right now. Isn't this preferable?"
Her friend nodded.
"He definitely seems more Ed like, when he's under the influence. I'm not going to say it's better. Not until we find out any potential side effects to long term drug use. He's different though. Curiously, in a very Andy like way."
"Are you tempted to give the mushrooms a try then?"
"Oh dear God no. There's no telling what they're doing to his brain. We don't have any idea what a safe dose is for them."
"So what you're saying is, we should up the dose tomorrow morning?"
"Yes. Don't get too heavy handed though. We don't want to run out before we get back."