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| Fiction V.1.5 Don't
"don't fuck with superman's cat" said the old rotting zombie.
"why not?" asked my Elvin companion. I considered killing him right there. He had proven worthless so far, and this addition didn't help any. Plus it might shock the zombie out of compliancy. But those days were behind me, so I just sighed. "just don't fuck with superman's cat" said the zombie quietly, as if he were imparting a great wisdom. and looking back now, I realize that he was. If I could only have taken his advise. Instead, in my youthful ignorance, I said, "what about his dog?" The old zombie man calmly ripped out his earring, tearing his pseudo-flesh in the process. He promptly swallowed it for safekeeping, and then began to pull at his own head. It made a sick tearing sound as ligaments that had rotted together over the centuries were torn asunder. I fled for my life as he began flinging various body parts at me.
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| Wistful I was walking down the road. Well, really it was more of a side street, a well-worn path. It's width was such that a small car could squeeze by, but I doubted that had happened anytime in recent memory. Back at the hotel, I had left a poker game when the conversation became dominated by talk of theoretical guns. I had only been included me out of pity in the first place, and I had nothing more to contribute. Things had started to look up with the next crowd. I sat and drank bitter coffee with three men and two women, all in there late thirties. Maturity was what I needed, people with real world concerns, children. Salt of the earth. The tallest woman began complaining about her son, who she had brought with her to attend school here. He was having a difficult time adjusting, and as a result he had come back to the hotel bruised and bloody, in decidedly low spirits. Upon further inquiry, it appeared a mob had taken after him because of a failed attempt to flirt with the wrong girl. The mother blamed her son for being so weird and not being able to fit in. I suggested that the very least the ruffians should bear some of the blame, or at least their parents. At the very least anyone with honor confronted the outcasts in fair combat, one on one. A duel at least affords the offender a choice in weapons. Her child was attacked en mass. The level of chill that settled over the group could only mean one thing. I had somehow insulted her parenting ability. On the way out I decided my group of mature friends were probably swingers, possibly at least engaged in a threesome. So this evening I allowed myself a few moments of self-pity as I thought about poker hands I could have had, and bluffs I would have pulled off if I had the heart for it. I was so lost in these melancholy thoughts that, when a large dog of unknown breed and temperament came upon me, I was unprepared to react. Nonetheless I did react, and stepped backwards, before recklessly deciding to plow on forwards. Perhaps with a some minor adjustments in my chosen path. One that conventional roads were unprepared to handle. I was quite far out of town already, but the houses were still grouped close together. Who lived year round at such a strange place I wondered. What did they do for a living? Why did they keep such vicious dogs? I considered tearing off my metal leg and beating the dog with it. I touched my leg, and it was made only of flesh and bone. Violence is rarely the answer. Backing away as a strategic part of my frontal assault, I happened to cross the green lush grass of a small white house. I knocked a small ceramic garden duck onto its side, and hit my head a hanging plant as I bent over to recover the duck. A sensor caused a security light to flash on, and a short young woman with ear length black hair appeared in the screen door. "Hello" she said, wrapping the white robe around her closer to avoid the chill in the air. "Sorry about that" I said, quite embarrassed over the whole situation. The dog growled at her. She ignored it completely. Soon enough it wandered away. Apparently this propriety, whatever its difficulties for me, was outside the realm the dog claimed for itself. "If you want you can come in" she said calmly after a moments pause. "My parents are asleep upstairs, but they won't mind". I nodded dumbly and followed her into the house. The inside was white and clean. She sat on a couch, and indicated for me to sit on a cushion in bowel shaped chair. I sat on the edge, and the entire chair tilted slightly. She smirked, and unpaused the TV. We watched Daria. For whatever reason, it wasn't until after I left that I remembered that technology such as TV’s and electricity didn't function here. |