Part 4: Chapter Six

     "SKABADOUCHE!" said the portal as Holden was launched through.

     Our dashing hero looked around, taking in his surrounding. The air smelled of clay pots and marble pillars. A quick estimation determined that slaves made up forty percent of the population. Holden majored in population studies.

     "This must be Ancient Rome," said Holden.

     "Right you are!" said a stupid voice.

     "filius canis," cussed Holden. "What are you doing here, The Rock?"

     Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson stood before Holden. He looked extra stupid.

     "The Rock has traveled back in time," he said, "to go to the Colosseum and win the ultimate tournament!"

     "But aren't you an eight time WWE champing?" asked Holden.

     "That doesn't matter. Everyone knows that The Rock was only in it for the money."

     "Yeah, I guess. You're kind of a huge butt hole."

     "Yes I am. Now, get out of The Rock's way," said The Rock. "The winner gets eternal glory and some fancy piece of technology!"

     "Wait," said Holden. "Is it fancy to them because they live in the past and don't have toilets, or would we consider it fancy in the future?"

     "I've seen a drawing of it on a clay pot," explained The Rock. "It looked like a part of some small handheld device. Maybe it was part of a recompiler."

     "Dang it, The Rock!" shouted Holden as he executed a perfect enziguri kick to The Rock's skull. It was vintage Holden.

     Holden then decided to venture deeper into the ancient city to find out more about this tenement. After about an hour of searching, he found the Colosseum.

     "Hey, dude!" Holden yelled to a man standing by the entrance. "Is it too late to join the tourney?"

     "You actually want to enter?" replied the man. "The monster has killed every challenger it's faced!"

     "If I can survive my mother-in-law's cooking, I think I should be fine," laughed Holden as one of this book's authors made a shallow attempt at adult humor.

     "Listen," said the man with no hint of a smile, "if you want to gable with your life, be my guest."

     "I think I already did that when I invested in the Dow Jones!" said Holden; attempt number two.

     "Just go in there and  take the second door on the left," said the man blank faced.

     "Geez, you remind me of my ex-wife. Get it? Because we fought a lot and she wanted me to sleep in another room. Come on, this is comedy gold!

     "Is that your attempt at humor?" asked the man. "Are you even trying?"

     "That's what I said during the Bush Administration," said Holden. The man didn't respond. "Alright, I'm going." Holden sulked into the coliseum.

     After following the man's directions, Holden was able to find his way to the holding room that lead into the arena. The room was completely empty except for the occasional tumbleweed or cricket chirp. Once the coyotes started howling, Holden decided to man up and go inside the arena.

     The place looked exactly like the Roman Colosseum with a pile of dead warriors in the middle, because it was the Roman Colosseum with a pile of dead warriors in the middle. There, now there's no point in describing it.

     Suddenly, a six-foot-four man arose form the pile. The crowd shrieked with fear. This tall-- but not freakishly tall as most educators lead children to believe--man turned around to look at Holden. The sunlight bounced off of his metal top hat. It was Mecha Abraham Lincoln!

     "Four score and seventy gigabytes of RAM ago," said the Mecha President, "I decided to whoop you all kinds of robo-crazy!"

     "OH NO!" screamed Holden. "That bullet must have been from the future! It probs fused with our fifth president and turned him into a monster!"

     The Mecha President charged at our harrowing hero and slammed into him with the force of an elephant.

     "Ow," said Holden. "That smarts!"

     Holden knew that he had to come up with a plan fast. But, as we all know, he isn't too smart.

     "How the heck do you defeat a robot?" he questioned, scratching his chin. "BRAINBLAST! I'll spill water on them!"

     Holden pulled out his wand and yelled "Rain rain don't go away, come again every today!"

     Clouds began to gather over the arena. The humidity skyrocketed, breaking Holden's humidity reader. It was the perfect storm.

     Mecha Abraham Lincoln then decide to punch Holden in the head very hard.


Two days later...


     Holden awoke with a splitting headache. He was lying in a bed with the only light coming from torches on the wall. The room looked to be about ten meters wide and eleven meters long and twelve meters tall--you know, in case you were curious. An ordinary door seemed to be the only way in or out.

     Holden was unimpressed. He had a door at least 2 times better at his mom's house.

     "What the pelotas is going on?" asked Holden to the mediocre door. Suddenly, the lackluster door opened wide and Dlanor, dressed in traditional Roman Pagan garb and wearing a leafy crown, stepped into the room.

     "Hiya, Holden!" Dlanor exclaimed.

     "D-Bag Money Swag?" asked Holden, using one of his favorite, yet rare, nicknames for Dlanor. "What the diddley are you doing here?"

     "After you killed me last time, I respawned here!" said Dlanor. "Isn't it weird that we always find each other? Maybe somehow we are connected by some force that links every molecule of the universe together."

     "Nope, probs not," said Holden. "Yeah, I definitely don't think that's how it works."

     "You sure?"

     "Do you want me to kill you again? Cuz I'll do it."

     "No, don't!" pleaded Dlanor. "I really like it here. They think I'm Julius Caesar."

     "Hold up, hold up, hold up!" stammered Holden. "Why would they think that?"

     "Funny story. I spawned on a road just outside of Rome, and who do I see running from the city? Why, it was the one and only JC! That's right, Julius Caesar. He said he needed to take a little break from the pressure of running an empire. Then he asked if I wanted to take his place as emperor since we looked so similar and all--"

     "Hold up, you don't look like him," said Holden.

     "Yuh-huh. Have you ever seen a picture of him?" asked Dlanor.

     "I guess not."

     "Well," said Dlanor, "he was a ginger kid covered in freckles just like me! Now, back to my story. He gave me his crown and wished me luck. It's crazy, we look so similar!"

     "I'm surprised you haven't destroyed the city yet."

     "I know, right! It's been almost twenty minutes and everything is still fine. The worst that's happened is that people have been giving me dirty looks, and they all keep slowly pulling knives out of there pockets. Kinda funny, huh?"

     "Yeah, um, Dlanor? You do know what happened to Caesar, right?"

     "Duh, I just told you. He went on vacation!"

     "I mean like, historically?"

     "No, and I'm guessing you don't either. You're an idiot!"

     "No, YOU'RE the idiot Dlanor! I did tons of research on him when I was trying to discover the secret recipe to his pizza."

     "Well, what happens to him?" asked Dlanor.

     "Well..." Holden began to explain, but then an evil looking man walked into the room.

     "Oh, hi Casca," said Dlanor. "Have you met Holden? Hey," Dlanor said, turning to Holden, "Holden, this is Casca. He--"

     "DIE!" Casca shouted, producing his dagger. He made a glancing thrust at Dlanor's neck, but the imperator moved too quickly for him, catching Casca's arm before he could hit his mark.

     "Casca, you villain. What are you doing?" asked Dlanor.

     Casca, frightened, began to shout.

     "Help, brothers!" he screamed. Within moments an entire group of Romans, as well as Holden, were striking Dlanor as he attempted to get away. He made it to the steps of the palace, but tripped and fell when blinded by his own blood dripping down his face. The men continued to stab him as he lay defenseless on the lower steps of the Palace.

     "Well that was a hoot!" Holden said happily after the good deed was done. "Let's all grab some brewskies!" This was met with approval from the mob, and they made their way to the Round Where Bar and Grill.

     Once the mob had left, Holden searched the bloody mess that was once Dlanor, finding the Age Decompiler.


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