Acme Holiday
On an ordinary moonlit night, with
the stars shining, night settles over a nondescript laboratory in the middle of
an unnamed city.
Inside, tiny voices can be heard...
“What are we going to do tonight,
Brain?”
“The same thing we—no.” There is
a long pause. “I’m tired of this rat race, Pinky. The same thing night after
night. We’re going on vacation!”
“Ooooh, Brain. Narf!”
“Narf indeed. Are you thinking
what I’m thinking, Pinky?”
“I believe so, Brain. But where
would we get the purple frilly tutus to wear on the teacup ride at
Disneyworld?”
“To the closet, Pinky!”
~*~
The Truth About Manfredi and Johnson
Amidst sparks and the smell of
fish, came the question...
“Are they ready, Kowalski?”
“Aye, aye, Skipper. Project Agent
Clones is a go!”
Two years later...
“That’s the last of them,
Skipper. The last of the clones are dead.”
“A moment of silence, boys, for
the fallen. Manfredi and Johnson. The end of their line. Good soldiers, one and
all.”
A hush fell, before Skipper continued,
“A true tragedy, but really who could’ve predicted it. Struck down by a rogue
herd of buffalo.”
“I believe it was bison,
Skipper.”
“Really? I could’ve sworn it was
buffalo.”
“No, it was bison.”
~*~
End of Twilight
Black scars and broken glass marred a once beautiful house, with its landscape razed to resemble a war zone. Over the trees rose smoke and an acrid smell wafted off the smouldering piles of ashes and corpses.
Across this recent battle ground gathered the victorious army, bloodied and weary. A lone soldier bowed to the commander.
“They are all dead, Count Dracula. Bella, Edward, their ridiculously named daughter, even the werewolves.”
“Good. Then the war is over! Those mutated abominations have been vanquished! True vampire kind has finally prevailed!”
A cheer rose with the smoke of the enemy's funeral pyres.
© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights
Reserved
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