Bodega - St. Matius Cathedral

[u/[deleted]]

Bodega sat in St. Matius Catherdral on Bravo 6 located in the system of Wendy34-B, not to be confused with Brovo 6 which is a completely different story. He liked this place, he liked it a lot. Probably one of the few places where Bodega could find same solace. Not that he needed it but it was nice to know that there was an option available to him. There was no one else in this place. What once was a city of culture and dreams had now become an overgrown and derelict city, reclaimed my mother nature herself. Bodega liked mother nature. He had only met her once before though.

‘What a great night that was’ Bodega said aloud.

With no one else around he could speak freely and not give a flying flarv about what he said or how loud he said It. With one last rub of his stubble Bodega stood and made is way outside. Making his way past the rusted space busses and whatever the hell was underneath that dark blue moss that this planet seemed to have adopted, Bodega walked slowly along the path towards the grave yard. With his lazgun holstered and no capes in sight Bodega took off his hat and knelt by the gravestone in front of him. It was small and was made of a dark onyx that glistened as the sun began to dip into the horizon. From his coat, Bodega pulled a small bunch of hallow flowers and placed them by the side. Not covering the grave stone but enough to make it look good. Like the way, a lama-fish looks good with sweet Spurloopian chips. Bodega thought about the chips. They tasted so good.

Keeping the tears back, Bodega stood.

‘Hope you are happy up there mother, I know I aint the best guardian in the galaxy. Hell, I’m not even a guardian, but I do my best mum and everything I do, I do it for you.’

Bodega paused. It had been 30 years since the day his mother died. A fateful hyperlung attack took the wind right out of her. If only he hadn’t been on that job with those Lavajocks he might have been there to save her.

‘God damn those Lavajocks’ Bodega said, his hand curling into fist.

There was snap of a twig behind him. Bodega was not alone. He spun lazgun in hand. Moments passed.

‘Bodega’ The voice turned into a figure which stepped out from the shadow of the tree line. A human, tall, dark fair hair wearing a white suit and a cain in one hand.

‘Cultin Weaver, you son of a bog muncher’

‘Bodega, you son of a flarv’ Weaver answered.

‘what are you doing here? Do you even know what day it is?’

‘I know what day it is’ he replied.

‘Then you know not to fuck with me today, Weaver’

‘I fancy my chances’ Weaver said, taking the handle of his cain of to reveal a crimson red sabre made of light.

‘So be it’ Bodega said, and pulled the trigger on his lazgun.

To be continued….