Our friends tread carefully into the dilapidated house.
It's a dump, but at least they can hear the raging storm outside, so they understand that they are rapidly approaching freedom...
When a voice cuts them all to the quick.
As opposed to cutting them to the slow.
Which would be taking dramatic license too far.
All they could hear prior to this interruption was the sound of their own thumping hearts. The amplified sound of the evil voice made their hearts beat faster.
"So you made it," the voice announced. "You got through the sewers and the factory. Well done. But here is where your journey ends..."
"What the fuck is this prick talking about?" Buck asks.
"Ssshh! I know this voice," Abel Zorro says. "It is the voice of a bad man, a man who beats women. He wants to do us harm."
"You got that right," the voice says. "You bastards lost me 6,000 points that I worked my ass off for. I worked so hard voting for myself and you all fucked it up."
"What the hell is he saying?" Abel Zorro asks.
"I dunno, but fuck him anyway," Buck says. "The shitbag wears bad suits and beats up on middle-aged women. I recognise that voice too Abel. It's that fucking limpdick who invaded our territory and pissed off our friends. You know the prick I'm referring to?"
"I think I do," Abel says. "It's that asshole who says he'll give up drinking brandy, but won't sacrifice his beer and wine. The prick who hurts innocent women..."
"You wouldn't ever hurt me Abel, would you?" Fran implores Abel Zorro.
"Of course not," Abel Zorro snorts. "I don't do that shit."
Then the voice breaks the silence again.
"Come on guys. You wanna play or what?"
Abel Zorro wants to play.
Buck wants to play.
Even Todd wants to play...
"Hey, you wife beating, zombie fucking, beer and wine sucking piece of shit!" Buck shouts. "You wanna fucking fight, then bring it right on you fag bastard!"
"You're my hero," Fran whispers into Abel Zorro's ear.
"Leave me the fuck alone for a moment woman," Abel Zorro says. "I got a job to do here. You do have quite outstanding breasts, and I appreciate that, even though I'm a happily married man. Just back off while I take on the devil"
"Okay," Fran says.
Something runs chattering at phenomenal speed in front of our band of brothers and sisters.
"I got this!" Abel Zorro says.
"No you don't my friend," says Buck. "That's the dreaded SFO. I'll take him. He's mine. He claimed I picked on him. He's a goddamned liar. He's working for a greater evil. Leave this to me..."
As the chattering supersonic entity whizzed around the room again, Buck raised a hand.
It was game over.
The thing that was once the San Francisco Onion lay bleeding and breathless on the ground.
"What?" Buck asked his buddies.
"How did you do that bro?" Abel Zorro mused.
"Louisville Slugger amigo. Zombies, running backs, English football hooligans...makes no difference. The Slugger takes em out in in one. No problem."
"Okay," says Abel Zorro. "But we have to spin this story out a while longer yet if we're gonna get a movie deal."
"I hear that,"" Buck says. "Let's see what happens."
"Come into my parlour," the voice announces.
"Let's go get the motherfucker," Buck says.
"Yeah. Come on. Let's do it," says Abel Zorro.
Our team move on.
To be continued...
