Seconds to Scramble

Dorge perked up out of the passengers seat and told Adver to slow down. To which Adver replied This ain't Drivin' Miss Dorgey, which was hilarious but lost on Dorge. They were coming to a stoplight anyway, and so the desired effect was achieved.
Dorge had been acting funny lately. Lapsing into longer periods of silence, acting...off. They were no where near their destination and there seemed to be a case to just head back to where they'd come and forget the whole thing. But on they pressed, just because the weight of the thing was like a lodestone and they were trapped in the orbit of their own revolution. They knew that turning back would just be to press on in another direction, and so why not just keep their heading even if that inverted temple which they sought never crested the rise.
You see that? Dorge asked, not looking at Adver. There was a white van parked on the street that said BLIND WIZARD down the side. I mean, that's strange, isn't it?
I guess? I'm not sure? Adver was waiting for the light to turn green. Millions of years of evolution to swing those eyes into the predatory position just to watch a light turn green.
What does a blind wizard do with a van? You think he's set up shop there or something?
Sometimes I can't tell if you're being stupid, or if you're really fucking reta- Adver was surprised when Dorge threw open the door and started running toward the van. The light had turned green, but he was hesitant to keep driving with his door hanging open like that. Dorge was yelling now, and Adver thought he was holding a sword, too. So he kind of parked the car and turned the hazards on.


Dorge was standing on the hood of the blind wizard van swinging his sword back and forth menacingly, looking up into the sky. Descending, incredibly, was a man-sized yellowjacket, who admittedly seemed confused as to what Dorge was doing, and holding up it's insect hands. It seemed to be saying "Whoa, brah" in it's agonizing insect language.
Dorge spoke a word and the sword he was brandishing started gushing a thick black smoke from the blade, which the yellowjacket didn't seem to like and started buzzing around trying to avoid it.
It seemed to Adver that the yellowjacket was trying to avoid this situation altogether, but something can only fight against its own nature for so long. That's the conclusion he made when he saw the perfect tear of venom drip from the yellowjacket's stinger and onto the street below. The smell was sickening and sweet.
There was a crowd gathering now. The yellowjacket was doing its best to avoid the smoke coming from Dorge's sword, its eyes making a crazy light-dance as the sun exploded a thousand times in the facets.
Adver kept an eye out for more yellowjackets, while his hand went down to his belt, just in case. Dorge! The yellowjacket thrust the stinger, swooping in an insectile arc toward Dorge. But Dorge spun aside just in time and raked the tip of his sword down the thing's thorax, the exoskeleton splintering and shattering against the steel's edge. Pockets of green ooze welled up and streamed down the yellowjackets legs. The sound it was making now was not so alien that it was meaningless. It was the sound of rage and pain.
Adver wasn't convinced that yellowjackets normally had exoskeletons, and so any pity that he might have had for this guy was gone. If he was packing an exoskeleton, then his "Hey, I'm just selling magazine subscriptions" bullshit was all done.

Get the wizard! Dorge yelled, a huge swing of his sword severing one of the yellowjacket's legs. Then he was jumping up onto the roof of the van, his Merrells finding easy purchase against the smooth glass. He thought the leg coming off would give him a few seconds to scramble up there, but insects can lose legs all day long, and when his back was turned the yellowjacket was on him, his belly pinned down to the roof of the van, the yellowjacket clicking some weird promise into his ear, barbed, fuzzy appendages pushing and pulling against his shoulders and ribs. Don't scream, don't scream, Dorge mantra'd. The sword had been knocked out of his hand onto the pavement below. Dorge tucked his chin and then brought his head up hard, trying to ram his skull into the yellowjacket's face, but ended up getting his nose broken instead when the insect used all of it's considerable force to slam Dorge's head back into the smooth white roof of the van.

Things were getting a little hazy then, and Dorge could taste blood. This was not a good thing because Dorge was hemaphobic, and then he started to panic. Where the hell was Adver?