Hissing Sid
Member
The Lezzed of Us. A story of the Nocockallowedonlipse.
A small group of survivors manages to make it into the sanctuary shelter of the Cathedral just as the first of the pursuing zombies hurls itself headlong against the the reinforced doors hurriedly closed by the guards.
Still panting from exhaustion one of the group looks up at the approach of a tall elderly man, his face lined with age, his eyes intense with worry.
The tall man speaks.
‘Brother Pannykin did you secure the supplies? The medicines? Why are there so few of you? Where is brother John?’
......
‘Your grace, they came upon us suddenly and without warning. We lost many in the initial attack and half our number again during the flight back to the cathedral...’
‘And John?’
‘I’m sorry your grace, the last I saw of your son he was surrounded by the undead.... We were.... we were unable to reach him....’
The man stumbles and is caught by one of the gate guards. The sentry gently lowers the old man to the ground and glances worriedly in the direction of the main doors. The din from outside is increasing. He speaks urgently.’
Your grace! We must get inside the inner compound. There’s a chance the doors will not hold and we cannot be here if they give way. Come, come quickly!’
The clergyman roughly knocks the outstretched hand away.
‘Leave me alone! My son is dead, I no longer wish to live. Go, leave me here. Leave me alone I say! ....’
Brother Pannykin gets to his feet and stands beside the guard.
‘Your grace there is worse news yet to report.’
The grief stricken father looks up through bitter tears and scoffs.
‘Worse? Worse you say? Worse news? Our bravest and best gone! Our supplies gone! Our medicines exhausted....! The world a living nightmare of screaming ghouls that exist only to rend the living flesh from our bones! .... And now .... my son, dead! ..... What words could you utter that could possibly be worse?’
The informant shifts nervously from foot to foot.
‘Your grace.... we dun gone found ourselves a lesbian!’
Complete, stunned silence.
....
Suddenly the main doors burst open allowing a sea of monsters to flood into the hallowed chamber.
Paralysed by homophobia, nobody moves.
A herd of giraffes stops briefly to examine the commotion coming from the large building before continuing profoundly on their way.
Ende.
A small group of survivors manages to make it into the sanctuary shelter of the Cathedral just as the first of the pursuing zombies hurls itself headlong against the the reinforced doors hurriedly closed by the guards.
Still panting from exhaustion one of the group looks up at the approach of a tall elderly man, his face lined with age, his eyes intense with worry.
The tall man speaks.
‘Brother Pannykin did you secure the supplies? The medicines? Why are there so few of you? Where is brother John?’
......
‘Your grace, they came upon us suddenly and without warning. We lost many in the initial attack and half our number again during the flight back to the cathedral...’
‘And John?’
‘I’m sorry your grace, the last I saw of your son he was surrounded by the undead.... We were.... we were unable to reach him....’
The man stumbles and is caught by one of the gate guards. The sentry gently lowers the old man to the ground and glances worriedly in the direction of the main doors. The din from outside is increasing. He speaks urgently.’
Your grace! We must get inside the inner compound. There’s a chance the doors will not hold and we cannot be here if they give way. Come, come quickly!’
The clergyman roughly knocks the outstretched hand away.
‘Leave me alone! My son is dead, I no longer wish to live. Go, leave me here. Leave me alone I say! ....’
Brother Pannykin gets to his feet and stands beside the guard.
‘Your grace there is worse news yet to report.’
The grief stricken father looks up through bitter tears and scoffs.
‘Worse? Worse you say? Worse news? Our bravest and best gone! Our supplies gone! Our medicines exhausted....! The world a living nightmare of screaming ghouls that exist only to rend the living flesh from our bones! .... And now .... my son, dead! ..... What words could you utter that could possibly be worse?’
The informant shifts nervously from foot to foot.
‘Your grace.... we dun gone found ourselves a lesbian!’
Complete, stunned silence.
....
Suddenly the main doors burst open allowing a sea of monsters to flood into the hallowed chamber.
Paralysed by homophobia, nobody moves.
A herd of giraffes stops briefly to examine the commotion coming from the large building before continuing profoundly on their way.
Ende.
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