Friday, December 14, 2012

TFW CH 22 GOT A CLUE



The Sea   By Exitmusic









JOEY 

GOT 


CLUE






Lion Man, I mean, Joey, …well, he pulled himself up by the boot straps.  His ears rang from the icy screech of Katheena, and it woke him the fuck up.  He was in driving mode.

He looked over at the damage he had caused with the big truck.


The cement block structure glowed with flames and sizzled and sparked.  He rubbed his jaw.  He made sense of his shituation.  His mind reminded him of his mindlessness.

He had left his two buddies alone in an abandoned mansion, and he felt kind of bad about that.  Joey wished that the impact amnesia would return, but it didn’t. 

He looked at the ghost girl standing before him for a clue. 

Her icy glare frosted his balls.

Joey got a clue.


He headed to the little truck that purred, awaiting the next direction.








AVISON










The little girl with the deep blue eyes looked down at her king.

Such a sad thing for a girl to do.

One must never look down upon a regent, a sovereign, a savior.


No One, I mean, Tellesco,  …well, he was kind of fucked up.  You recall, he had followed Big Bryan into the fight with them Purple Robes.


You should also know these three things:

  1. Them Purple Robes at this First Engagement at the destroyed mansion were very low on their totem pole of power and ability.  All that they truly held was a belief in their armament; their guns.  And this had not served them well.
  2. There was a Walkin, an evil dude from a foreign country, one who liked to torture people, and he had Walked-in to one of them Purple Robes, higher up on the totem pole.  He would rise and do you know,  he would take over.  His name was Sven Slindlivrenn.
  3. There were now 10 hours to all-out war.



Avison bent down and kissed his cheek.  No One’s eyelids fluttered, and he looked about. He had felt the cool breeze on his cheek, and he saw the red moon rising.  He touched his cheek.  It felt as cold as the breath from a grave.

Avison whispered into his ear, and he heard her.  She said, “Mister King, you need to rise up.”


No One shook his head to clear things up.  The scent of the cornflower blossom entered his nose from nearby, but it was mixed with the earthy smell of a long-forgotten grave.

He remembered where he was, what he was supposed to do, and this occurred in a moment.  Such a hard way to wake up. This brought tears to his eyes. 

He saw her now, knelt beside him, bent over him, with her blonde hair hanging down and brushing his face. She was looking right into his eyes.  She was awaiting his next response.


He gritted his teeth.

Of course he would lead.

It was in his blood. 


He simply did not know that he was a blood relative to the evil man called Sven, down from the ages.


He also did not know that he was a relative to another leader, one called The Glinty.


That old cowboy preacher, Glinty,   well, he would be showing up soon.



Tellesco put his hands to the ground behind him, and he began to rise.


He said, "Little girl you make me cry."



Avison said, "You sure do cry a lot for a King."



Tellesco got up and put her up on his back.



He whispered back to her as he looked around at the broken bodies of them weak Purple Robes with their guns all skittered about.


He said, "I ain't no king.  I don't have a clue about that."


He looked up at the red moon almost over head, and he frowned.  The little girl was waiting for something, and he finally got a clue.


Tellesco McFlintlock whispered back to her, "I do what I say I will."



And that, my friend, 


well,   



...That is what it's all about, isn't it?








S H E R R Y








The infection of the Walkins grew in an exponential way.  One fresh victim of an infected Walkin passed on the infection to five more.

Five times five times five times five…  Well, you get the idea.  Do the math, baby.




Sherry found the exit and she staggered down the dark stairwell and tripped.  She fell head long down the rest of the steps and landed at the next turn below.

Her face hurt.  Warm fluid dripped from her nose down over her lips, and she licked them.  It tasted like metal, like rust. Her tongue ran over her front teeth, and these came away and fell out onto the steps.

Blood dribbled out of her mouth.  She vomited again.  She was not used to this new way of living.  It was different.


Sherry felt the sharp pain of broken roots in her upper jaw as she sucked in a deep breath.  It was the raw nerves in her broken teeth that caused this to make her feel such pain.


She did not like this new body.


She did not know that she could find another one to inhabit.


A Walkin can do what a Walkin wants.



The Walkins would.






See you next time, my friend.



God Help You.


God Help Us All.


---willies out.









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