Tommy found her crouched in the corner, confused, more than likely wondering what all that noise was. He felt pride in her safety, and sheer elation that he could cram this all in the scientist’s face later.

The Rescued Woman only felt sick to her stomach. Tommy Tony had a racoon sized wound in his shoulder with a log of wood sticking out. Every few seconds blood would spray out of it like a garden sprinkler.

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?!”

“This?” Tommy Tony shrugged, then yanked the wood from his shoulder. The skin stretched to the sides, resembling a hotdog splitting while cooked in a microwave. “This is nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Tommy Tony’s blood was now erupting from the wound like a geyser. The Rescued Woman tried to duck out of the way, but was having little luck.

“That seriously has to be a gallon of blood at this point.” The Rescued Woman’s eyes went wide with horror when blood landed in her mouth and on her lips. It was slick and lubricated every crevice.

“This is just my body’s way of saying I had too much blood to begin with.”

He wasn’t joking. He honestly believed that. She would have mentioned that he was an idiot, but she was too busy trying not to accidentally swallow.

“Don’t worry, I rescue people all the time." With an intense stare, he grabbed her shoulders. "I’m going to get you out of here and back in the arms of safety!” 

Blood was now smacking her in the face like it was thrown from a bucket. Dodging only seemed to change which orifice the blood found its way into.

“Where are they?” she asked between sprays.

“Who?” Tommy Tony questioned.

“All those people you rescued,” she continued. “Why aren’t any of them here helping you?”

“Well I mean…”

“They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“If I were to put a percent to it maybe about ninety-eight?” Tommy Tony tried to look everywhere but the woman’s eyes.

She stared blankly at him. “Am I the other two percent?”

“Maybe.”

She took a deep breath. With each passing moment in this man’s presence, she felt less and less like she had been rescued. Maybe the llamas had killed her, and this was her new hell. After a long, calming sigh, she looked upon her would-be hero once more. He was holding a llama carcass by the armpits and making it dance around. He smiled deeply, expecting the act to get a laugh out of her.

A tear escaped her eye.

“I’m just saying, as a man who has studied your people extensively, I know for a fact that llamas do not molt.” Ben Jeremy walked beside Mwah through the carnage Tommy Tony left in his wake. He repeatedly stumbled over any and all debris situated to his left.

“Just like a human, thinking he knows more about llamas than a llama.” Mwah was baffled by the scientist’s inability to realize his dirty glasses were the cause of his clumsiness.

“Firstly, you have fur, Mwah. Fur. Not scales or feathers. Secondly, have you ever molted?”

“I have not, but that is simply because I am still but a pupa,” Mwah answered defensively.

“I’m just going to ignore that. Tell me then, have you ever seen another llama molt?”

“I haven’t witnessed it,” Mwah spit back, getting aggressive.

“Then what makes you so confident?”

Mwah paused, trying to think of a defense. “Have you ever had sex, scientist?” The answer seemed so simple once it came to him.

“Well I… That is… I haven’t yet. I’ve just been too encompassed by my research!” Ben Jeremy was clutching the briefcase to his chest.

“If you’ve never had sex, how do you know that scientists can?” Mwah asked smugly. Smug was a hard emotion for a llama to show with facial expressions.

“That is not the same thing! I know humans have sex because there are babies! I was a baby! I’ve heard others talk about sex before!” Ben Jeremy couldn’t help shouting. He was enraged at his lack of knowledge with this particular subject.

“What if I’ve heard other llamas talk about molting then?” Mwah crossed his arms.

“Tell me, Mwah. Tell me one llama you have ever heard say that they molted.”

Mwah stammered, unprepared. Perhaps he should have seen this coming, but he was a mercenary not a white coat. He decided to shoot from the hip. “Mwah. No wait. Shit. Furry FurFur?” Mwah’s pitch raised as he said the name.

“Well, then, I can’t wait to meet them! When all this is done, you’ll have to introduce me. That’s what we’ll do. Save the world. Finish our mission. Then I can sit down and have a nice chat with this Furry FurFur. Hell, maybe we’ll even fall in love!” Ben Jeremy laughed the words out, then managed to trip on a large rock. Larger than a normal rock, but still not quite a boulder.

Mwah knew he had been defeated. Even worse, it was by the puny scientist. He began to feel shame, which soon morphed into hatred, a hatred that had only one release valve.

“Hey white coat!  Have I ever shown you the different settings I have on this here laser rifle?”