I'm a gangsta, I'm a straight-up g... so I decided to update this more. Believe me, don't try to see the connection between those statements...

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Chapter 4

In the months following Jimmy's ejection from The Traditional Samurai Academy of Samurai, his life was in a piteous wreck. He spent most of his time moping around in other people's apartments, occasionally stopping to eat whatever he could find in those people's fridges. He slept during the day and prowled the streets, and the occasional Wal-Mart (open 24/7, baby), at night. The most consoling thing in his world was the familiarly friendly female voice (sorry... alliteration moment) announcing, "Attention shoppers, our 1 a.m. Extreme Sporting Goods sale has just begun," or, "Attention shoppers, it would probably be a bad idea to leave the store because there are some armed men in the parking lot who seem to be dressed in standard gang attire," or, the ever frequent, "Attention Wal-Mart security, there seems to be a man lying face down in Aisle 3," which for some reason always led to him being picked up off the ground by burly men and thrown out of the store. It seemed his life was in a downward spiral that it could never right itself from.

But one night, all of that changed...

It was about 10 pm, and he had just climbed through the second-story window into the apartment of someone who he once saw at a bowling alley when he was ten (though neither of them would ever know that). He went into a dark corner of the kitchen, sat down, and began to mope. Suddenly, a strange, paranoid feeling struck him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, then, in the interest of safety, took off running. There was something behind him.

An adorable puppy barked somewhere for effect, though no one could be quite sure what kind of effect the puppy was trying to produce. Unfortunately, a lone vulture was circling nearby, heard the bark, and swooped down, gripping the puppy in its talons. Vultures do not usually do that.

Jimmy whirled around, only to find that the only thing behind him was an average refrigerator. Then he noticed what was odd about it. There hadn't been a refrigerator about a foot away from where he was sitting when he entered the kitchen. It seemed to be staring at him expectantly, and, somehow, coldly. Curiously, he opened the fridge door, and was blinded by a burst of light.

Then he saw it.

At first glance the light revealed a standard box of Chinese take-out that was, according to the universal guidelines of Chinese take-out in fridges, apparently several weeks old. But Jimmy could sense that there was something to it- something supernatural. He opened the box.

There, seated upon the fried rice, was a fortune cookie.

"Aww, man," Jimmy whined, disappointed, as he threw the cookie against the wall. As if by magic, the impact against the wall shattered the cookie into thousands of tiny shards which subsequently burst through the plastic wrapper and sent debris shooting around the kitchen in a spectacular display of released energy on a rampage.

"Woah," Jimmy murmured as the dust cleared.

Amidst the crumb-rubble, untouched, was a white strip of paper. A small beam of light touched upon its black type. Jimmy looked at the ceiling, confused, since there was no skylight or any other method for light to fall upon the piece of paper. The light stopped.

Jimmy shrugged and picked up the piece of paper slowly and carefully, since it was obviously important in some way. He held it up to the light from the refrigerator and its text revealed itself.

There is hope.

"Well... that was anticlimactic..." Jimmy murmured, frustrated. "Fortune cookies always say vague things like that." He was about to tear the paper to shreds with his teeth before beginning to mope around again when he remembered one last thing.

"The lucky numbers!" he exclaimed. He turned the paper around furiously to the other side, which he learned probably wasn't the best idea after ripping it in half. Nevertheless, staring out of the paper where the lucky lottery numbers are usually placed was an address. He tried to hold the two halves together and read the address, but it was kind of hard since his hands were shaking. He had a very peculiar feeling tingling through his body. He felt happy! For the first time in months, he realized that there was hope, and with that realization, the urge to engorge himself arose.

So, he pocketed the paper, opened up the fridge, and grabbed the nearest food, which just so happened to be the rice. Unfortunately, the rice not only looked several weeks old, it really was several weeks old. Thus, after a few bites, Jimmy was unconscious.

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Suddenly, a sound interrupted Jimmy's storytelling. He looked up to see that two men were peering over the edge fifty yards above.

"Ho there!" one of them called.

"Hey! Intelligent life!" Jimmy cried in excitement.

"What did that chap say?" one of them turned to the other.

"I believe it was something to do with your wife."

"Now, what's all this about my wife?" the first yelled down. Jimmy looked back, puzzled.

"What are you talking about?!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"What did the lad say that time?"

"It seems he was pointing out some kind of semblance between your wife and a trout."

"What a cheeky fellow!"

"Quite."

"I'll have you know," the man called to Jimmy, "I was thinking about lending some sort of aid to you."

This brought a smile to Jimmy's face. "Thanks!" he yelled. "I'm pretty sure I'm stuck!"

"I couldn't quite make that out."

"It's perplexing, but I'm quite sure he just said he'd have none of this truck."

"Well... that is odd."

"Indeed."

"In that case, I suppose we should be on our way..."

"It seems so."

Jimmy watched the two walk away. "What the-"

"Caww..."

"No, they wouldn't leave me here... they're probably just getting some rope or something..."

"Caww..."

"Well, you're quite the downer today."

"Caww..."

Jimmy looked up after them, then down at the ground, then to Monty. Then he looked back up.

"Oh. Well. That sucks."

"Caww..."

"Alright."

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"Dude... who are you?" the man asked, helping the now-awake Jimmy up off the kitchen floor.

"I'm Jimmy."

"Well, I know that... the narrator said that as I was picking you up off the floor... I was just wondering why the heck you're here."

"Here as in-?"

"In my kitchen."

"I'm not quite sure, but I've gotta tell you- your refrigerator could do with some cleaning out."

The man looked confused. "Dude... I don't own a refrigerator. I eat only the plants I grow in my vegetable garden on the roof of the building."

Jimmy looked around. Sure enough, the fridge was gone.

"So, why are you here again?" the man inquired.

Jimmy ignored him. "Are you sure you didn't have a fridge here last night? One with ancient Chinese take-out on the top shelf, perhaps?"

"No, dude... I already told you that... besides, I don't eat Chinese food- I'm vegan."

Jimmy thought about this, stroking/scratching his elbow ponderously. "You could have ordered fried rice."

"Dude... what part of vegan do you not understand?"

Jimmy looked around for a hidden refrigerator again. "Whatever."

"Okay, dude... I don't mind if you have your little camp-out in my kitchen... just keep your refrigerator stuff and all your weird vibes to yourself. I'm gonna go water my plants." He walked out the door.

"That's really weird..." Jimmy muttered. Then he remembered the address. He reached in his pocket and was happy to find that the ripped paper was still there. He tried to hold the two pieces together again.

The address 6787 Walnut Street appeared.

"Bye," Jimmy called as he exited the apartment of the misinformed vegan that he once saw at a bowling alley when he was ten. But the man did not hear him. He had already been pushed off the roof of the building by someone. Coincidentally, his garden had also been eaten by rabbits.

To be Continued...

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Bonus prize for anyone who really lives at the address 6787 Walnut street... just give me your zip code and I'll mail you something- something special.