Saturday, February 13, 2010

SHOPPING FOR DIVERSION

Indigo Dug was flustered, fatigued, but dead set on success.

Her socks had come unglued from her skinny shins and they were pushing her sneakers off.

“Damnit, If I lose these sneakers then I’ll have feets of ice for the next two months!”

Unlike the socks, Winter was holding fast, killing birds, plants, good spirits and diminishing the glow of skin.

Winter was eating them up.

ID estimated she aged ten years every Winter, then shed nine and a half of them each spring.

After entering through the back stairs, she took the cats out of the bag and attached the small harness to them, bribing them with catnip, tuna, rubber balls and a sizable injection of speed in the neck. When the sled was in place she dropped the human head stuffed with firecrackers into the captain’s seat, lit them up, and kicked the cats in the ass.

They took off.

Through hordes of shoppers returning their underliked and illfit Christmas gifts the cat cart tore. Tripping up elderly ladies dragging bedsore-aggravating chair massagers, bouncing off awkward young men grasping too large underwear with muscles only dreaming of bonecrushing strength. More-Men with boxes of wedding rings were knocked off their feet to be caught by huddles of wives, matching grandchildren watching aghast. The Pious-Us dropped to their knees and prayed, twisting an ankle here, shattering a hip bone there. One went down with a bottle rocket screeching into an eye socket. Anyone not within the range of chaos received Flix on their implants, spreading the insanity building wide. The Ma-SecuriTeam was on the scene before you could eat two burgers and a gallon of fries. One young girl leapt from the third floor to splatter next to a sunglass salesman, who jumped backwards ten feet, flattening his kiosk, which crushed the leg of a saintly school teacher. She would never walk again.

In the panic ID pocketed an ipod and some stickers, tried on some slippers and a knit hat, snacked on a chocolate bar and helped a hammock find it’s way into her bag. She introduced herself to a wallet that was dozing in the pocket of a GangstahYoungstah and checked the time.

“I wonder what’s playing in the Cineplex!?”

1 comment:

  1. Red Book, and write the second fun now, what I read the comics? I bet that Andy will.
    Hello, my name is John Collins McCormick. Thanks for the comic. What happens then ever before.

    ReplyDelete