It was that perfect spring day.

60 degrees fahrenheit at 9 in the morning, warm breezes blowing gently through the trees, families were wandering happily through the attractions at Busch Gardens. The laughter of children danced like tufts of pure pleasure above the heads of a happy, amused throng.

So it was one big fucking surprise when the 1979 Blue Monte Carlo launched itself over the high gate near the entrance. Sparks flew like maddened animals from its crash spot, and the car all but collapsed in its own crater.

Then, with a roar like the God of Thunder passing a meteor-sized gall-stone, the BadAssMobile blew through the front gates, skidded out in front of a concession stand, and licorice-whipped a trashcan fifty feet into a crowd of bystanders. Before it had even fully stopped, its engine still revving like a madman screaming, Bad Mother slid out of the back seat through the window and fired three shots at the approaching security guards, dropping them all.

SuperBad kicked in the parking brake and stepped outside. The sun reflecting in his sunglasses looked like the last stars of a dark universe. His blue sharkskin suit shone in streaks of glaring white. He pulled a gun from his shoulder holster and walked to the Monte Carlo, Bad Mother whooping and dancing a mad dance behind him, waving his guns at the crowd.

SuperBad reached in through the window and pulled a skinny sumbitch through the shattered window by his shirt sleeve. The stranger's face was bloody, his nose broken; his dazed look clearly indicated a concussion.

"Solid Junior," SuperBad threw him against the side of his smoking wreck of a car, "What are we gonna do with you? I know I scratched my paint driving through the gate like that, and we are seriously stomping all over these fine folks' pleasant holiday excursion to this fine locale of amusing diversions. You gave me serious heartache, and stressed me out making me chase you when all you had to do was give me what is mine,rightfully. Plus, I'm gonna have to go through the trubble of shooting you like a bitch. Where's my Valentine Card?"

"Jaysis SuperBad," he drawled through shattered teeth, "I don' hae it, I ne'er deed. I handed the box off t'Manpower Malone in Iowa after I got it from SugarBomb, and he moved it on to Bad Daddy Brown in Vegas, and I didn' even see the 'Card.' You know I wouldn't play yeh. I never e'en SAW the 'Card!'!"

"Well, damn, escept I KNOW you're playing me, Solid Junior. Malone's been dead since Thursday, before you even picked up the package. Where's my Valentine's Card!?"

"I DON' KNOW!" Blood gushed from his pulsing temple.

SuperBad turned to look over his shoulder at Bad Mother, watching him whoop and dance around, singing "Funk soul brutha check it out now, yeah, I got more rhymes than the Bible got Psalms, soul brother!" He rolled his eyes and barked "Bad Mother!"

He stopped in mid-step, hovering like a bird caught mid-flight. He peered at something in the near distance. "Uh" he hesitated "What?"

SuperBad sighed. "Bad Mother, Solid Junior say he don't have the Valentine's Card."

Bad Mother continued to stare off into space. "Yeah?"

"Well, what are we gonna do about it?"

There was silence for a long time. Bad Mother's jaw grew somewhat slack. Breaking the quiet after several minutes - cause even the crowd had grown deathly silent - Bad Mother spoke.

" I wanna ride the roller coaster."

SuperBad just stared. Solid Junior ceased his wimpering and clutched his open wounds, keeping his life giving essence from leaking on the brick walkway. Bad Mother just continued to stare to the distance.

SuperBad spoke slowly, disbelieving. "What was that?"

Bad Mother didn't hesitate this time. "I wanna ride the roller coaster. It's called Apollo's Chariot. It's the bestest roller coaster in the world. Fabio totally got his nose crunched on it. I saw it on the news. I wanna ride the roller coaster, can I?"

SuperBad raised an eyebrow and stood stock still. He spun his head and glared at Solid Junior, ensuring that his intended victim was still rooted to the spot. Slowly, he turned back to Bad Mother. "I don't suppose it can wait until we're done with this?" he said, waving his gun casually towards Solid Junior.

Bad Mother was hopping up and down, his eyes ablaze with childlike glee. He was grinning madly. "No, I wanna do it now. I wanna ride the roller coaster."

SuperBad just stared.

***

Bad Mother came back , a few minutes later. SuperBad was still standing where he'd been left, Solid Junior still lay sprawled against the car.

"Well, you enjoy yourself?" SuperBad asked sarcastically.

"It was the best." Bad Mother kept grinning.

"Great, I'm happy for you. Can we finish this up now?"

"No!" Bad Mother frowned sullenly, "I wanna ride again. Then I want you to buy me a cap and a Coke."

"Bad Mother, you are sorely pressing me."

"Kay, I'll be right back," and he skipped off.

***

SuperBad was sitting on the ruined fender of the mangled Monte Carlo, his gun listlessly aimed towards Solid Junior who dozed lightly against the bloodied, dented door. Bad Mother came running towards them, cotton candy in one hand and a balloon in the other. "I rode it twice this time!" he cheerfully quipped.

SuperBad looked up, his head cocked wearily. "Beaver, I am so gonna kneecap you in a minute."

"I wanna ride it again."

SuperBad slid off the car. "Let me remind you of our current facts of life, Opie Taylor. We have killed some people and wrecked our cars in a major theme park, and there are probably cops coming. I WAS gonna torture this dumb bastard here until he told us where to find our valuable - and I stress valuable - loot, but we're running out of time so I may just have to shoot him dead and write it off as a loss, and we don't REALLY HAVE TIME for you to ride Apollo's gaddamn chariot again. Are you with me?"

Bad Mother put his lower lip out and pouted. "There aren't hardly any lines and I just want to go one more time, and it'll be real quick please please please."

SuperBad stared daggers. "I should kill you now."

***

As the full moon shone the only light in the park, Solid Junior readjusted himself against the Monte Carlo door. SuperBad played Solitaire, looking towards the roller coaster periodically, hearing Bad Mother's delighted screams. The park was empty.

"Um," Solid Junior looked up at his captor. "Now that things have settled down a little, any chance that reason has prevailed and you can call me an ambu-"

"No, shut up."

In the distance, the clatter of the ride died down. The brief interim of silence was punctuated by laughter, and the sound of roller coaster moving once more about its path. SuperBad had heard these sounds over and over for the last several hours.

"Um," Solid Junior ventured again, "So. Um. What's in the 'Valentine's Card,' anyway?"

SuperBad pulled back on his ebony black cigarino and reshuffled. He sighed a cloud of grey smoke. "It's a cardboard box wrapped in bright red foil. Insides, it's got thirty thousand Swiss Francs , a kilo of heroin, four ounces of frozen champion bull semen and a packet of lesbian porno photos the Winsome Bitch did back when she was just a sprat. I was gonna blackmail her for em. Or post em to the internet for a fucking laugh. Whatever. It's all lost to me now."

Bad Mother cheered in the background.

***

"Well FINA-fucking-LLY! Are we done here?" SuperBad was a weary lump on the broken down Monte Carlo.

Bad Mother's hair was only slightly tousled, his clothes a little wrinkled. Sneering a cruel smile, he nodded towards the BadAssMobile. It was well past midnight.

"About damn time," SuperBad belly-ached as he hopped from his perch. He stomped to the car leaving Solid Junior alive and sleeping behind him.

"'Hold up,' says Bad Mother, you forgot something. Wake UP, Solid Junior" and with that Bad Mother pulled his sidearm and plugged the groggy bitch.

SuperBad slid into the driver's seat as Bad Mother collapsed into his pile of empty Jack bottles in the back. "Damn near drove off without you. What the hell was you up to today, you sappy motherfucker?"

Bad Mother leaned over the front seat, grinning slyly, the reek of Jack Daniels spilling from his breath. "APRIL FOOL'S, SUPERBAD! I got your sorry ass!"

SuperBad gripped the wheel tightly. "What?"

"April Fool's SuperBad! I rode that rollercoaster just to trick you! I got you!"

SuperBad said nothing.

"Yeah dude, I was riding that rollercoaster all day, just getting my lance waxed from every single chick in the park today, smoking big blunts, drinking straight Jack. Just getting blowjobs, smokes and riding around on that damn rollercoaster all day and leaving your sorry ass alone at the front gate, bitch! April Fool's!" Bad Mother laughed into his full bottle of Jack, dribbling his hooch over his chin as he chuckled.

SuperBad gunned it, speaking over his shoulder as the engine roared loudly. "That's all well and good, Bad Mother, but we still lost the 'Valentine's Card.'"

Bad Mother laughed. "No way dude, April Fool's! I had it all along!" Bad Mother produced the torn, stained red foil-wrapped package from under his stack of near-empty bottles. "I had it all the time dude! HAHAHAHAHA!"

SuperBad grinned, despite himself. "Ha. Okay, yeah, that was pretty good. Hand me that package Bad Mother."

Bad Mother leaned over into the front seat, and dropped the package in the passenger side. He was still laughing "I gotta warn you. Them Winsome Bitch pictures are kinda all stuck together."

SuperBad was smiling now, shaking his head at the joke. "It better not be bull semen, that's all I'm saying. That shit's expensive."

They drove in silence for a long time, the wreck at Williamsburg far behind them now. Eventually, SuperBad spoke again. "Suddenly I don't feel so bad about the April Fool's joke I played on you."

Bad Mother stirred from his bottle nest. "Yeah SuperBad? What'd you do?" he asked, grinning.

"'Member that hooker I got you in Alberta last week?"

Bad Mother squinted, staring into the distance as if peering for his alcohol-muddled memories. "Oh yeah, red headed Mexican girl. I remember you were all about payin' for her for me, dude. What about her?"

SuperBad snickered "She's got the worst case of GONORRHEA IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD BAD MOTHER FUCKER! APRIL FOOL'S! You're gonna be PEEIN' STRAIGHT NAPALM for the REST OF YOUR LIFE! HAHAHAHAHA!"

As the BadAssMobile shot like a rocket towards the vanishing horizon, the faint laughter of Bad Mother and SuperBad could be heard echoing across the empty nighttime highway.