Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: East of West, Issue #28 – “The Fall of the White Tower”! In the previous installment, Thomas shoots that motherfucker Ezra “Prophet” Orion, which instigates a massive riot. Millions upon millions of Message pilgrims start trying to kill the treacherous Chosen, which leads to Wolf’s death and possibly Narsimha’s. Most of them pile into the ship to get away. Archibald and Constance stick around to blend into the mob.

Stuff is really getting out of control. And still, Xiaolian remains safe and sound humping naked women in her private bathhouse. I’m imagining that in my head. Quite vividly, actually.

East of West, Issue #28 [July, 2016]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“The Fall of the White Tower”

A jacked Death is hanging out in the desert with his walking eyeball buddy. “We’ve been chasin’ the sun for two days. How much longer ‘til we find my son?” he asks the Roamin’ Rhymin’ Eye. “Soon, soon, you’ll see. You’ve got to be believin’ me,” it coos all syrupy. The tracker still works, Mr. Eyeball is on top of things. Relax, guy. We just need to wait a little while longer to, you know, finish the triangulation and whatnot!

“So you’re telling me our meanderin’ – and your general lack of urgency… is because you’re waitin’ to find out the precise location?” he frowns, staring daggers at the eyeball with his one eye. It’s eyeball vs. Eyeball, and I think the Eyeball would win this staring contest.

Well, that is spot on, yes. Eyeball wants them to make a straight beeline toward Sonny Boy. Death is antsy because the kid is toast if the scouts find him first. This is when Eyeball backpedals and agrees that “their time could’ve been put to better use”.

This doesn’t sit well with our favorite #1 Cuddly Guy, so he grabs Mr. Eye and does a big, rough squeeze. Even through this it’s all poetry. “No don’t do anything you’ll regret. It’s me you need – best not forget. Don’t be mad – I know what to do. From now on, our path will be true!”

It’s all very cute, isn’t it? Death has had enough. “You’re an eye… I’m assumin’ that means you work the same way as a regular one.”

Then he sticks the eyeball in his pants and bullies him into looking at his dick. Well, that would be happening if I wrote it.

Death wants to see what the eye sees, and all he needs is light and a place to project the image on… so he prods a poker into their bonfire and sticks it up the Eyeball’s ass, so to speak. Image is projected on the ground.

Start talkin’ Eyeball Jones. I can rhyme too, I got the stones.

The map is of Ahab’s Pass, so that’s where they’re headed at dawn. I’ve got a good feeling about this! Something tells me nothing is going to go wrong whatsoever!

“Run. Run as fast as you can.”

“The future is coming to kill you.”

A group is waiting at Ahab’s Pass. They look like a real dream team of shaggy, lumpy men. A flying robot bug guy comes back to the group with a report that Babylon must be close. He discovered two abandoned campsites along the river, and the distance between them will tell them roughly how much time it will take before they show up.

A Republic of Texas looking motherfucker named Billy Blackgun – a man who refers to himself in the third person – already sent word to the Atlas with no response. He thinks Hunter might be dead.

A woman in a hood says that it don’t matter. If he’s dead, he’s dead. They still have a job to do: kill him.

A jumpy man named Wyatt, who is missing an eyeball, isn’t comfortable with continuing the job if Hunter is dead. They’ll all have a big target on their backs! Fuuuuck that!

Pop a Xanax, Wyatt. Calm the fuck down, I can see your tonsils.

Billy Blackgun ain’t afraid of no bullseye! Put it on Billy’s head, it don’t mean no never mind to Billy! It definitely ain’t mean no such as not at all never mind! He rambles like a psychotic lunatic for about four speech balloons and then suggests they split up. Some keep going. Some go back to the Atlas.

Flying robot bug guy disagrees. What appears to be the words of the man he used to be are spoken in between sentences of the conversation. “I remember fields and flowers. My wife and my children. What has happened to me?” and “My son was Jonah. He was five and just learned to ride a bike. My daughter was Hannah. She loved to sing in the choir.”

A woman named Ursula at the Atlas is spearheading this mission, and she wants the job done first dangit. The plan is as follows, now listen up because it’s very important and very hard to remember. Ready: they wait until nighttime and they look for a campfire.

Then it’s settled! Red Team and Blue Team. Red Team, go do stuff. Blue Team, sit on the couch and eat pizza rolls! Annnnnd, go!

Wyatt storms away. He wants money and this doesn’t sound like money. Screw you guys, I’m goin’ home.

As he tries to ride away, someone caps Wyatt on the side of his abdomen. “Wat dis? Wat dis!?! You done gone shot me over dis? You gone shot me cause I wanna get paid? Cause I want my money? You listen here – Wyatt ain’t no free boy! Wyatt ain’t no–”

He gets shot again, lmao. Right through the skull this time.

Not about the money. It’s about finishing the job. “Oh my God, we shot that man,” speaks the robot bug guy’s inner voice. “We killed him. Who am I? What have I become?”

Hey, we haven’t seen Babylon in a while, speak of the little devil! He’s trying to fight a warthog that he sees as one of those Hell Demons that Orion wants to buttfuck so badly these days. Well, not these days. He’s dead now. Other days, though.

He fights while the warthog tries to chew him in half. Unfortunately, he’s not successful.

Tear his ass up, Warty! I wanna see some guts!

The warthog even starts licking him playful, and then begins to doze while Babylon flumps on top of him. “See Balloon. I told you I didn’t need to kill him.”

Balloon calls him quite fortunate. Babylon doesn’t agree. In fact, after doing a bit of thinking, Babylon says they got to him before the world did. “If there’s anything you’ve taught me, it’s that conditioning starts early.”

“Oh? Did I?” Balloon responds. “I don’t remember teaching you that? In fact, I don’t think that was in your programming at all.”

Well, yeah, Balloon never explicitly said anything. Babylon just… well, he’s drawing from his own experience. Whoops, we’re starting to think freely! That ain’t good! Balloon’s going to have to pop this kid before the kid pops him. Like a balloon.

Babylon has an idea! When they tear down the world and build up a better one, shouldn’t they have child farms so they can cull the shitty kids from the better kids? Eugenics! Balloon thinks this idea is top drawer! “Maybe you could give it a catchy name. Something like… a school,” Balloon smiles.

“Hmmm. Babylon’s school for little piggies. I like it!”

Ummm… they called you a “stinky butthead”, ma’am. And that your butt smells really bad.

Let’s go to New Shanghai. We haven’t been there in quite some time. Xiaolian sits alone on her steps.

An envoy returns with news from the Southern Gate and the gathering of the nations. That shit was wack. The Chosen started fighting, a riot ensued. It was kind of cool, actually. Wish you were there!

Problem is, Orion’s stupid army of believers are going to start closing in on the Endless Nation. They are allies, as one might recall, and Orion’s stupid army of believers currently stands at dozens of thousands! DOZENS OF THOUSANDS! That’s a lot of thousands.

Xiaolian sits nervously. She looks like she’s wearing one of those pointy Madonna bras. She lifts up the locket Death gave here. The one she can speak into and he’ll hear it, but she’ll never know if he heard it. A really cool gift. I gave one of those to my wife the other day. It works, I swear.

Among other things, the House of Mao will start eliminating threats like they were stains and she’s, like, stain remover. “If you are listening…” she says into the lump of metal, “If you hear me… We are out of time. The end is here. So I beg you… Ride, my love… Ride like you have never ridden before.”

Oh, he rides all right. He’s got that Death face that looks like he’s trying to poop out a wrench coming out sideways. Find their son now, or he’ll be lost to them forever. Poopypants Babylon, gotta go fetch him.

Someone’s gonna have to kill that kid for Death to be able to find him. Calling it now.

Poopypants Babylon and Balloon are at the bottom of a canyon. “I don’t feel lost,” Babylon argues, but Balloon knows what lost is and Babylon doesn’t know what lost is at all. So, yes, they’re lost. Don’t fucking talk back, kiddo.

“Pfft. That’s just knowing where you’re headed, Balloon,” Babylon talks back after Balloon mentions technological malarkey like orbital satellite triangulation and magnetic field directors and vibrators with AAA batteries in them. “It doesn’t have anything to do with being lost. I know exactly why I’m right here at this very moment. Do you?”

Looks like Babylon’s trying to keep things emotional instead of literal. You are never lost when it comes to FRIENDSHIP! ♫♫ Babylon and Balloon forever… ♫♫

“You’re becoming a very frustrating young man, Babylon,” Balloon mutters all salty. Babylon doesn’t think Balloon should be frustrated at all! It’s beautiful outside! A good place to set up camp.

This little psychopath is finally starting to make some sense to me!

When Babylon asks if the Earth will burn as hot and white at the stars in the sky, well… it was really quite touching. It brought a tear to my little eye. And with the comfortable thought that the fiery extinguishing of the Earth will be a beautiful sight to behold, Babylon settles in for his evening slumber.

“BABYLON! WAKE UP!” yells a distraught Balloon, “We need to break camp and look for cover immediately!

Oh no, what is it? Bandits?! UFOs?! Traveling circuses?! Amish families selling pies?! Balloon discovered movement in the distance! It’s not an animal, it’s something more… sinister. We’re not ruling out the UFOs just yet, but Balloon instead suspects it’s “the worst sort of humans there are. Ones that have no problem at all hurting children like you.

And yes, it’s the group of real winners we saw early. Some really smart cookies. Some real good Samaritans. Some real salt of the earth pie-selling old school Christians. Robot Bug Guy. Billy Blackgun. Some others.

Babylon’s gonna ruin these guys.

Final Thoughts

Characters are converging again. We’re gonna see some serious shit in the final issue of the storyline! Strap yourselves in, bootlickers! It’s Chinatown!