#clopinxchip

Why Thomas’s car? the twins might wonder.

Because they needed something generic to blend in with the traffic of New Orleans, just in case things went wrong. The Dune Buggy of the Gods tended to bring some attention to it, and given their rather sneaky activities tonight, they didn’t need that. And they needed a trunk for their purposes. Not an open one like in the pick up trucks, and it didn’t need to be particularly spacious. It just needed enough room for Esmeralda.  He could probably have asked for the car, Thomas was a nice enough guy, but it might come with questions. He was more of a beg forgiveness rather than ask permission kinda fella anyhow. Despite not having to beg for a very long time.

He didn’t have a costume on this time. Just black t-shirt, black pants, purple and gold shoes. He couldn’t help himself with those. He had to get a new pair after Kuzco did because he got jealous of those cute strawberry kicks, so you know he had to get some to match. In his own damn colors. And put in an order for Piper as well.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Clopin would say once everyone was inside, starting the engine of the mid-size car, making it crawl away from the house and then gained speed the further that they went. “Kuzco, babe, you’re gonna be the distraction. You’re gonna talk to her, give her one more chance to come around.” He still never went into detail with Dale or Chip about why they were handling Esmeralda. “And since she’s stubborn, I’ll be sneaking around from behind, knock her out, and I might need the help of you boys to get her back to the car, my arms aren’t quite what they used ta be. We’ll take her to my old alley which they assured me is empty tonight, and Dale - you do your thing. It goes south, I’ll dispose of her and no one should be any the wiser. Any questions?”

Clopin really was outside in the boisterous gold and purple dunebuggy. God, he loved this thing. Best way to get around. Not the most road legal vehicle in New Orleans either, but most of the cops just watched it go by because dude, it’s a dunebuggy. You don’t get to see those everyday.

Since they were going into the city, he had on one of his many disguises. He was going for a look that was originally supposed to be more on the Nikki Sixx side of things, but actually looked a good deal like Jetsam. The black mullet wig with the bandana, costume tattoo sleeves under a denim jacket, leather trousers. Papa Cougs made a rather nice leather Daddy. And of course the eyeliner hidden beneath sunglasses.

He lowered these glasses when Chip would make his appearance. “You n me, we’re having a chat,” He said, in a rather un-Clopin like serious tone. Now that in itself was rare. Most important talks were had in silly rhyme speak to try to soften the blows. But this - this had to be a serious matter.

Being from the streets, Clopin did have to learn very quickly now to make something from nothing. To make food appear. To make shelter appear. To make weapons appear. To make money appear when the first three things were pretty damn hard. And he still had that mentality. On their private island, they had to make do without all of the hustle and bustle of city entertainment, without going on a wander to a store to stock up on candy. Brave the elements. But weapons?

Does anyone really think that Clopin had just walked into some Reaper department store and picked out whatever scythe caught his fancy? Non, non, non monsieurs. He made something out nothing.

Which he was doing with Chip’s prize. Dale was still the only one who could use his scythe on special occasions but he could make Chip his special weapon like it, but with that flair of the weapon he had used during the zombie hunt. Using what he had around the purple and gold house to make it a handheld beaut.

And what did he have?

Cans.

Beer cans, soup cans, tomato sauce cans. Now that the best cooks were outta commission - one in New Zealand and the other a vampire who didn’t give a fuck about food anymore, he was back to eating a bit of slop sometimes, but it was tasty slop. So he blacksmithed a fucking axe out of tin and a fire he’d light in a garbage can to give it that real flair. Melding it all together. He could have asked Dale for help but no, this was a prize, he wanted to do it on his own.

Clopin: Firebug is out of the running for most satisfying kill 2021.

Clopin: But make no mistake, we'll still have our fun. In fact now, it's really begun.

Clopin: Whaddya say we go get some hot dogs

Clopin: Also I'm not asking