Harry Guakomoli did not want a funeral or a wake or a memorial of any kind; the man always felt dwelling on the past was a waste of time. What was done was done. His desire to be forgotten was explicitly laid out in his last will and testament, the reading of which was dutifully carried out by its executor, Cornelius Watson, junior partner of the law firm Hildebrandt & Finklestein.
Oslo did not attend the reading of The Guak's will. The death of his friend, a death he squarely blamed on himself, did not sit well with The World's Smartest Cat. He spent his days on the stoop getting soused off of malt liquor and lying in his own sick. This was not much different than how he spent his days before his best friend's demise. Just the reason for getting fucked up.
The Guak left his sidekick the apartment building in which he dwelled and a modest allowance to spend on "liquors, Nutter Butters, and the occasional visit to the cat house of his choosing." Oslo suspected his friend had some money squirreled away; his crime-fighting partner did not hold down a job yet never worried about food nor lodging.
Despite The Guak's wishes, many residents of The City's barrio decided to hold a memorial service for their fallen hero nonetheless. It was conducted at the neighborhood cemetery at a plot paid for by local businesses and adorned with a headstone purchased at cost by city councilwoman Constance Ortega.
Since a body was never found there was some debate concerning what should be buried in its stead, if anything. Finally a consensus was reached that some of The Guak's favorite possessions would be placed in a box in its place. Some of these prized knick-knacks were a pair of his shit-kickers, an autographed photo of Charo post-coitus ("Cuchi-cuchi, mi rey! Amor, Charo"), and an original vinyl pressing of 2 Live Crew's As Nasty As They Wanna Be.
The World's Smartest Cat did not want to attend the service, feeling that it was improper for The Guak's murderer to be present, but Yo-Yo Ramirez would have none of that. She bathed the feline for the first time in ages, the Latin beauty took great care in washing off the vomit, motor oil, grime, tears, and whatever else had caked in his fur.
At the service Yo-Yo, stunning in a black ankle-length dress, held Oslo in her arms, and, despite his feelings of self-loathing, the former sidekick situated his head between her left breast and silky arm and found himself purring.
Oslo looked around at the assembly of mourners. It appeared the entire barrio was there to pay their respects to their protector. Father Bruce, who kept the title despite being defrocked some years before after photographs surfaced of him performing a happy ending with his mouth on a masseur named Bobby Dunning, gave the eulogy. The address was notable for its mind-numbing length (it clocked it at over two hours) and its syphilis-fueled anti-Semitic off-topic tangents.
The Los Fuegos Polos crew, driven out of the barrio by The Guak and Oslo, and before the cat, Tugboat Jones, was in attendance. The gangbangers wore dark suits and their trademark black bandanas emblazoned with red flames. They were there at the insistence of their leader, La Diabla. The deadly chola was recently released from prison due to some absurd technicality and chose to pay her respects to her fallen foe.
A few years prior The Guak rescued Dylan, Trevor, and Cody, collectively known as Laser Canopy, from a burning ten-scooter pile-up. The band decided to honor their savior in song. They played a short fifteen-minute set, ending with an ironic mid-tempo rendition of Clapton's "Tears In Heaven." Oslo glared at their wide ties and skinny jeans and wanted to force-feed them their dark thick-rimmed glasses.
Notably absent was the aforementioned Tugboat Jones. Last Oslo heard the vigilante was still in The City; he merely relocated to Bridgeside. The Guak refused to explain the how and the why behind the crime-fighting duo's parting of ways, but the subject always infuriated him so The World's Smartest Cat opted to live up to his sobriquet and left well enough alone. But in attendance was Tugboat's lady friend, the always fly and foxy Nubia Zulu. Fly and foxy in a terrifying bad-ass mama sort of way. She stood with arms crossed under her bosom clad in a black leather halter top. Her black jeans clung tightly to her curves and tucked into combat boots. Her perfect afro-puffs remained in place despite the occasional gust of wind.
Standing close to Nubia yet not close enough to incur her wrath was another street-level anti-hero. His name was Travis, last name unknown, and not even The Guak's death was cause enough for him to deviate from his normal attire of aviator glasses, camouflage jacket, well-worn blue jeans (which he called "dungarees"), and black high-top Converse All-Stars. The Guak and Travis would occasionally join forces to take down local kingpins and their minions. Oslo always enjoyed these team-ups, but The Guak found Travis off-putting; the mohawked ass-kicker had a penchant for teenage prostitutes. Oslo liked his fruit under ripe but would always get pissy due to Travis' unwillingness to share.
Father Bruce's eulogy was making Oslo sleepy, though the five 40 oz. bottles of St. Ides he chugged before the service may also had played a part. But someone out of the corner of his eye snapped the feline back to full consciousness: the lieutenant from the rubble-filled crater that was once Neuneuschwanstein. The man was decked out in a slate-colored suit, his platinum locks cascaded off his shoulders. To his right stood a petite woman with raven hair done up in a pair of braids. The World's Smartest Cat figured the shawty couldn't have been more than two or three inches taller than five feet. She was as pale as the lieutenant but a hell of a lot easier on the eyes.On the other side of that fast-talking son of a bitch stood another man, lanky and six and a half feet tall. He had a darker complexion than his two companions but just barely. His rose-colored glasses protected his eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. The top of his bald head glistened, clearly demonstrating that it was recently waxed. Oslo snickered.
But The World's Smartest Cat cut short the snarky thoughts running through his brain when he remembered his first encounter with the lieutenant. What Oslo had done to Frank and wondered if there would be any retaliation. For the remainder of the memorial he never took his eyes off the trio. He wondered what would happen if they did make a move on him. He imagined ripping out the jugulars of the men Roadhouse-style and then fucking the girl to spare her a similar fate.
Yet there would be no retaliation...at least that day.
"And so we bid a fond farewell to Harry Guakomoli, one righteous dude," spoke Father Bruce as he wrapped up his eulogy. "Perhaps even the most righteous dude of them all. May he spend the Afterlife violently cornholing every dead Yid bastard and Zionist cunt on the planet. Amen."
The crowd could not disperse quickly enough. And as La Diabla left she stated it was time to retake the barrio.
