“Hey hey hey! What’s this? You’re having a massage party and didn’t invite me?” a deep, hoarse yet jovial voice rang out.

The question was so incongruous that everybody was stupefied!

“‘Assage... ‘arty?” lisped Mr. Drop-and-Roll in slack-jawed amazement.

“Yes! I’m hurt that you left me out! HURT! After all, I’m the original Party Animal!”

Slowly, with small faltering steps, Wukong slouched into the circle of stunned bounty hunters, coming to a stop beside Trip and Mr. Drop-and-Roll. He pointed at the pistol pressed against Trip’s forehead.

“You all can’t fool me! I recognize this, it’s the World’s Number One Head Massager, Mark 1! It’s supposed to be SO comfortable, you can’t help wanting MORE!”

He sidled closer to Trip while bending lower, with his face beside hers, looking upwards at the pistol muzzle and Mr. Drop-and-Roll.

“C’mon, be kind, let me have the first go. It just so happens that I’m having this nagging headache that just won’t go away. How about it? Hey? Do this Monkey a favour, why don’t you?”, said Wukong, while wriggling his head between the pistol muzzle and Trip’s head, only stopping when the barrel of the gun was pointing at the center of his forehead, directly beneath the golden circlet fastened there.

PIAK!

With a sudden clap, Wukong clamped his hands on top of Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s hands. Startled by the sudden movement, the noise, and the feeling of pressure on his hands that were holding his precious weapon, Mr. Drop-and-Roll reacted by jerking backwards and pulling the trigger, shooting Wukong in the head!

Soundlessly, Wukong collapsed into a furry, untidy heap. Mr. Drop-and-Roll kicked the sad pile of bones and fur that was Wukong a few times, to no effect. Breathing a sigh of relief, the bounty hunters all started to relax, then…

“Ooooooooooooo…”, a low moan emanated from Wukong. All the bounty hunters focused their attention on Wukong, eyes wide open. Even Mr. Drop-and-Roll pointed his pistol at Wukong, forgetting that it was now empty.

“OoooOOOO… WAHHH!”, shouted Wukong, as he sprang up and clamped his hands on top of Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s hands again. All eyes, even Trip’s, were on Wukong’s forehead. Except for some smudges of gunpowder residue, it was entirely unmarked!

“So comfortable! No more headache! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, Wukong grinned, while pumping Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s hands up and down, in the most enthusiastic double handshake he had given in centuries. As he felt his arms straining to pop out of their sockets, Mr. Drop-and-Roll screamed “Get him!”

All the bounty hunters had been staring at Wukong in horror. What manner of creature was this, one that was impervious to bullets? Stunned as they were, they reacted instinctively to the screamed command. Some charged at him, while some shot in his direction… which resulted in a crossbow bolt sticking out of Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s right shoulder.

Meanwhile, Trip felt the grip around her wrists slacken. Still on her knees, she leaned forward violently, until her chin touched the ground, as her right leg thrust up and out behind her to strike the bounty hunter holding her wrists, hitting him between the legs. As the sound of walnut shells cracking was heard, the bounty hunter collapsed to one side with a whimper.

Springing to her feet, Trip darted towards the bounty hunter holding her knife. With a deft strike at his wrist, she caused him to drop the knife, which she snatched out of the air as it fell. With a reverse slash, she drew a red line across his neck, then darted towards the other bounty hunters, only to find them in complete disarray.

Wukong was gripping both of Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s wrists in one leathery Monkey paw, dragging him along while running to and fro, chasing after the other bounty hunters. When he came within reach of them, he would either give them a sloppy kick, sending them flying backwards for a few feet, or slap them with his free hand, bowling them over.

One particularly muscular bounty hunter did not run. By then, he was the last bounty hunter standing, but he showed no fear. He stood firm, and focused his steely gaze on the furry agent of havoc. He tore off his tunic and flexed his pride and joy (The words “Pride” and “Joy” were tattooed on each of his pecs, which were admittedly impressive examples of chest muscles). He gripped his sword tight, then with a resounding “Yaaaah!”, charged forward to hack at Wukong. With both hands, he raised his sword high up above his head, then swung down with great force to hit Wukong on his shoulder and… the sword just stayed there. It was like hitting a rock covered in layers of tough leather. All the force was absorbed, and not even a hair was cut.

“Oh hey, more massage? You’re too kind! Here, let me return the favour!” said a grinning Wukong. He jumped up and used his leg like an axe to chop the shoulder of Mr. Pride and Joy, who was instantly driven to the ground, flat on his face.

Mr. Drop-and-Roll, who had been struggling to free himself all the while, had gone very still. His face was as pale as freshly steamed tofu. That was because, with that last jump of his, Wukong had dislocated his arms.

Like a child losing interest in a toy, Wukong let go of Mr. Drop-and-Roll, letting him collapse into a heap. Without even another glance at the bounty hunter, Wukong hurried towards Trip, who was methodically checking each bounty hunter, while gathering up anything useful. She had found her backpack, and was using a bounty hunter’s jacket as a makeshift sack to store the bullets, bolts, and coins that she was liberating from the bounty hunters. Some of them were either dead or unconscious, while others were quietly moaning or gasping on the ground. All of them were, without question, out of the fight.

“Mistress, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Trip nodded, with a slightly embarrassed half-grimace on her face. “Help me look for my gun.”

“Immediately, Mistress!”

“Miss Tang, I have located your revolver. It is right here, underneath this person.”

White Dragon, who had been conspicuously absent during the fight, had reappeared. He had activated the blue beams in his eyes, but this time, the light beams had been narrowed down to pinpoint lasers, directed at Mr. Drop-and-Roll’s waist.

Immediately, with long and quick strides, Trip walked over to the prone bounty hunter and rolled him over. Tucked into his pants was her revolver. After taking it back, Trip immediately began wiping it with her jacket-sack before reloading it, then holstering it. Having the revolver back seemed to reassure her.

Kicking Mr. Drop-and-Roll lightly, Trip said, “You, take us to your camp. Now.”

The bounty hunter stared back at her. Though his face was pale and covered in cold sweat, his was gritting his teeth and his expression was one of defiance.

“Or, I’ll get Wukong here to pull your arms off.”

Wukong immediately grabbed the bounty hunter’s arms, while grinning widely, exposing his large canines. “Just say the word, Mistress, and it shall be done!”

In the face of Wukong’s gleeful enthusiasm, the bounty hunter seemed to deflate. With great difficulty, he got to his feet and indicated a direction with his chin. “This way. In return, please let my brothers go.”

Trip swung the jacket-sack over her back, looked at White Dragon and Wukong, and said “Let’s go.”

“Mistress, shall I... clean up those that remain?”

Mr. Drop-and-Roll tensed… then sighed quietly in relief, when Trip replied “No Wukong. Leave them be.”

Under the moonlight, a woman, a monkey, and a horse followed a man into the silent forest.

-- Chapter 7, End --