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All right, boys and girls.   Just one quick horror story before I head out to paint the town red tonight…

Yesterday, after the Cat saga I told you about earlier, that morning chem test I failed, and then some other classes I’m deliberately trying not to bother remembering, Kane and me were meant to be playing some kind of team school sport thing.   Luckily the sports teacher broke up with his girlfriend last week when he found out she was secretly selling off his Dr Who figurines on Ebay, and he’s still pretty distracted.

So Kane and I are sitting (in the shade) against a convenient wall while our school chums fuck about pointlessly on the sports field. And we’re arguing pleasantly about which organised sport does in fact cause the most horrendous physical damage in the long-term (I’m going boxing, but he reckons ice hockey – and yes, I’m kind of swayed.   That shit does end in some seriously fucked-up violent altercations, and the teams are all armed with big sticks and foot-blades…)

Anyway.   Mitch comes up.  

Uh oh.   Fish boy Mitch.   The one that got away.   The kid Py trussed up and left for my consumption that wild weekend, but I’d caught and eaten my fill and so threw the little shit back.

He stands in front of me, blinking down with the sun in his pale watery eyes.

“Hey, Jonathon?”

My mind is working fast – there’s no way he knew I was involved.   There’s nothing fishy about this.   Be normal.  

“Dude.   We’re talking here.   Piss off…”

He shuffles.   “Yeah, but – Jonathon?   You know that night I was kidnapped…” (okay – true)   “… and held at gun point…” (beg pardon?)   “…and I fought them off and escaped?” (Oh geez – pull the other fin…)

Kane interrupts: “Yeah, yeah – whatever, Mitch.   We’ve heard all that.   Cute story.   So what’s it got to do with us?”

(Funny you should ask, Kane…)

Mitch fidgets some more and takes the bait.   “Well, see – I was thinking, man.   You reckon it was the same gang of killers that took out that couple next door to you, Jonathon?   It was that very same night, man.   That very same night.   The parentals think it was my brother’s buddies, but I know what I went though, man.   Reckon I escaped a gang of serial killers?   Do you?   Do you reckon?”

I look over at Kane, who rolls his eyes and sneers a bit which translates as “Fucking kids – get rid of this loser, dude.”   I wink slowly back and turn to Mitch very seriously, and say very sweetly:

“Hell, yes, Mitch.   You were lucky to get out of there alive.”

He fell for it hook, line and sinker.




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