me. Maybe I'd get lucky, I'd catch it off guard.

Would have helped with Sally's

beef-cake last night. Damn she had a fine ass. Shit man, there she was hiding like
a squirrel in a tree. I could marry a woman like that, I could settle down and
start over. Make up for things "You know, you're sure pretty You and that feller
from last night? Y'all serious or?" "What!?" Sally exploded, face bunched as a
catfish. The wolf pounced, growling like a chainsaw. I tripped backwards over the
paint sprayer, right into the coiled nest of cables. Shit, I thought, am I minced
meat? Or am I the her? Jerry's pompous, British giggle echoed from his wolfen maw.
People's been laughin' at me my whole damn life. I weren't about to let a werewolf
do it too. Gripping the chrome sprayer, I let Jerry have it Green wood sealant shot
tinted, waxy goop right into his eyes. It bellowed, clawing at the soaking fluid
and grime. Coughing,snorting, sniffing, howling, the werewolf fingered its peepers
and dry heaved. Fucker was sick and blind "Get away from it!" Sally tugged my
collar so hard it ripped halfway to my bellybutton. I took her hand and the two of
us dove like synchronized swimmers into the crawl space. Our hearts pumped
fiercely, hers close to mine. Jerry raged, smashing two by fours and tool kits. We
navigated the inner walls, squeezing through patchy openings of torn up petunia
pattern wallpaper. Looked like we was In the house's rib cage. Blurs of fur and
teeth passed us, in and out of sight, while cruel nails grabbed through cracks in
the drywall. "Quick, down the plumbing" I lowered Sally down the crocked tree of
copper piping. S lappering, green metal rattled as she moved "We'll get underneath
the floor It's too big to follow us". Over my shoulder, hot saliva spilled onto my
bare neck. Sally was almost down I spied the kitchen through a tiny drill hole "I'm
almost there", Sally whispered. Voice mousy and sweet, kind of voice you'd expect
from one of Santa's elves. I'd have bet a nut she could sing too. "Oh my God!" "Th'
hell is it now? Go, girl!". She stopped up the escape and I weren't ready for
another go at wolfie I mean, I'm tough, babe. But I ain't no Hercules Sally
screamed as her feet clattered onto the ground beneath us. Examining the situation,
I saw something I hadn't seen in a long, long time. The dead and man oh man, that
fucker was dead. The corpse must've been one of the crew workin' on the house. He
was little more than a mangled heap of red soaked sticks wearing a hard hat. One
eye squinted in the direction of the splattered mess as if suggesting he'd gotten
something on his boots. He sure did, about eight pounds of small intestine. In,
'nam you'd run into poor schmucks like that, all chewed up and spit out by The man
- didn't matter if it was Ho Chi Minh or the suits back home. Hell, we was just
kids, man Bum gig for America's sons. And even after all of it the fightin', the
dyin' - nothing was worse than getting off that plane. No marching band, no flag,
just a forest of picket signs callin' me a baby killer' Th' fuck did those flower
fuckin' hemp tokers know, anyway? Just a bunch of apple pie communists who knew as
much about real combat as they did about their lubed up peackers. What did they
know? I was in Saigon, man. But then again, we was all just kids. "The contractor
don't look too good" I slid down the last pipe. Sally snatched me up like a teddy
bear. She smelled like a peach cobbler mixed with hot sex and coconut . "It's
alright, girl" I briefly smelled her hair. "He looks like a human pizza". Sally
punched me right in the gut. "Creep!" "Hey! Tough rocks, babe I just tell it how it
is. Ain't nothin' we can do for him now. You're a real firecracker ain't ya?" I put
the moves on her again. "You're sick Freakin' redneck pervert!" It appeared I'd
pushed a sensitive button. But hell, I was a man of the world not some backwoods
hick from Delwerance. I loved stuff like Italian architecture, Vietnamese food,
even French music - though I'll argue that Johnny. Cash was the greatest that ever
lived "I just bailed you out of a heap of trouble, sugar. Least you could do is
show some couth, know what I mean, babe?" I'm not the one trying to get busy on a
corpse" "It's called romance, dol! Who ever said anything about getting busy? Now,
I think I deserve some gratitude!" It wasn't stood Mr. Seaver, damn near four foot
high, kind of squirrelly, with beady doll's eyes. H e had slicked back blonde hair
and a buck-toothed grin. "Good evening, Mr Seaver, I'm here from Verney Insurance.
First of all, I'd like to apologize for being so tardy, traffic was something else"
Traffic? Shit man, after 'bout ten years of making excuses, you plum run out of the
clever ones. Traffic in a town like Verney was as likely as whores in a monastery.
But then again? "Ah yes, Mr. Dennis is it? No need for apologies we can get started
right away", Jerry said in a thick accent. He sounded English, maybe Aussie. "Of
course, sir I've got your plan right here in my briefcase, all you need to do is
sign a few forms and we'll have this place insured" I tapped the suitcase, praying
to God I didn't leave any forms floatin' around in the backseat of the Charger.
Jerry smiled with tightly pursed lips. He wore a tight, yellow spandex single suit
with blue stripes.

Man, I hoped he worked out you know, cardio? Threads like that could get a peller
killed in Mississippi Yes, yes Come right in you can see I'm having a lot of work
done. Bloody contracton's been out fon weeks I'm quite annoyed with him I think lll
have to hire out a new company" "Sorry to hear it sen I tell you what, all make a
few phone calls y you'd like I know some guys in town that do poxtures Still
talkin' out of my ass, I'd make up anything See, you've got to seem like you're
really helpful Clients dig a problem solver, especially one who cares not that I
did on anything Shit, I didn't care about tomorrow & only cared about makin enough
money to drink myself back tisenty years. Maybe stock up a few cartons of menthol
cigarettes prom Rainbow ferry led me through the door into the house Nice place
walls decorated with some of that fire china, looked like a collection There were
paces painted on them, like everyday folks you'd see around town One quy looked
like this old part named Barney that worked a pissa joint in the early mornings &
bummed cigarettes off of him wherever I was by Bastard looked like a nightmare
version of myself meaner, older fatter Anyway, I'd go in there from time to time
after a long night, onder myself a Hawaiian That old pucker'd heckle me pence you
ever been in a sinkin ship boy? You ever mess ununsels on the deck on a destroyer?
Old guy served on the US. S. Arigona the survived the Japanese attack at Pearl
Harbon That must have been a tough gig too anyway, the guy's face hangin on the
wall looked just like him Spittin' image 'I make them myself I enjoy capturing
people's faces, Jerry explained "Alright, we can settle in the kitchen May I get
you something to drink, Mr. Dennis Jerry eyed the pit stains welling up under my
arms "Oh gosh, that'd be great, sir and call me Bucky, all my friends do Bucky
Dennis, after my uncle Mickey "Buck" Dennis a semi-pro ball player in Kentucky
until he was arrested fon mopery mopery with the intent to expose himself it
happened in my teens thell of a ball player, almost signed a gew times it's gunny
how nobody remembers that though just him streakin' by that senion center with his
junk in the breeze "Bucky them, interesting name" Jerry opened the vintage
refrigeraton and poured me a glass of pineapple juice Must be a health food nut,
but it explained the stretchy threads Damn, pineapple juice went down smooth and
tangy "Nice place you got here, sir" Small talk's the way to keep em interested
People buy the salesman not the product tell & know I would There was this one time
in Bangkok... Yes well once the place is finished it's a vacation home really a
place to get some primacy Jerry waved his arm around. The kitchen had a granite
island in the center, looked like all the cabinets needed to be put in though
Cereal boxes and the tin cans of that Jacksonville Spaghetti lined the exposed
shelves That Brit wasn't much for taste, but that's how it was over there Right?
Bad food. Crooked teeth "Where you vacationing prom?" "London, actually I'm a
trader there" the was smug about it too. Yeah, I bet there's a lot of stress that
goes along with that gig" "Oh yes it's killer But I have my dish painting and I
used to play a great deal of cricket in the spring" Jerry plicked his gingers
trying to communicate something. Took a sisig of pineapple juice
"Yeah cricket, that's were once the norm Mr. Merryweather would never forget
Barry's selfless act which restoned his faith in the prison system, and he now saw
no need to keep his office in such immaculate condition Sometimes, when the mood
struck, he'd even have a roll around in his own faeces. Grace Honeysuckle, who'd
grown up into an average, well-adjusted teenager, the sportt brat she'd once been a
thing of the past, remembered how Barry had taught her one of the most important
lessons a person can ever learn the'd shown her that padure is an important part of
life and that it's not something to be ashamed of, it's how you come back grom &
that counts. Grace had gone on prom her defeat at the hands of Barry's chess-
playing genius to become a better chess player, but more importantly, a more
rounded and wholesome person Of course, this didn't take into account the addiction
to crack, crystal meth and heroin she'd since developed, but then no one's perfect
foe Kearns, the slimy manager from hell who'd handled Barry's chess playing career
had spent most of the day reclining on his private beach in the tropics
occasionally exerting himself to sip on cold mango juice In fact this was how he
idled away the bulle of his life now after another hard day's wonk he forced
himself to catch the genesis of interstellar travel despite his absence of interest
beyond his own personal paradise. Now sitting, listening to Barry's wonds of
wisdom, he unenthusiastically trawled his mind back to how he'd sucked his
vulnerable employer dry fon everything he was worth, begone tossing him away like a
used handkerchief Kearns's cold exterion was pierced with guilt, but then Barry had
never far been away from him, constantly haunting his thoughts day and night yet
before we get carried away with Kearns's zeelings of remonse, we must remember that
the buxom wenches that now waited on him hand and foot because of the money he'd
stolen did help to ease the pain somewhat Maggie Broomfeld, Barry's Mum, had a wall
inside her house covered in newspaper clippings that documented her son's
incredible achievements the glorious chess career, the revolutionary scientific
discoveries, the genius-she couldn't be more proud Seeing his face being broadcast
across the airwaves and into her home, made her feel closer to him than she'd fellt
for years She got on her knees to bring her face only inches away from his It was
heart wrenching for her to be so close when in reality she was so far from him and
nothing tore at her more than seeing him as lost as he was, other than when goe
Mangle's wife died on Neighbours She just wanted to hold him the way she had when
he was a child but their relationship had long since fell apart, besides, she now
had two meat hooks for arms after been involved in a moped collision The real
tragedy of Barry Broomfield's lige was not the unsettled and demoralising
childhood, his father's abandonment, the frustrating adolescence, the countless
female rejections, the failure of his window cleaning business, the disintegration
of his sanity, the period of homelessness, or even the time spent in prison the
real tragedy was that he didn't realise there were people who'd miss him, who cared
for him and he would never know that he had affected the lives of others for the
positive People did remember him, thinking about him every day, recognising that he
was a unique kind of freak Kredendum was watching Barry's sob story on one of the
big screens, still cloaked by his invisibility backpack he thought Boohoo
Broomfield, just get the hell on with it I have something else that I feel I must
say before I go There's an underground military base in the New Mexico desert at
approximately these coordinates Barry held up the to the cockpit camera a piece of
paper that he'd written The Complex's location upon Down there illegal genetic
experiments are being performed on thousands of innocent people, one of them I know
personally a man named Charles Delve a torrent of fighter jets and helicopter
gunships were bearing down on the Broomanaton's position, intent on destruction
Barry knew they were coming, he could see them on his spaceships in-built Enemy
Detection System Noticing they were beginning to get a little planes to intercept
this madman Those inside Mission Control were not quite as gast to react, fon a
significant moment of time after the unveiling everyone was at a loss for what to
say The Head of the control centre certainly wasn't about to say anything because
he was still lying on the gloon unconscious Progesson Schriever's voice was the
first to be heard through the Broomanator's onboard radio What the hell do you
think you're doing Broomfield? Barry ignored the question and said 'le anyone trues
to attack me on board my ship they'll be toast. ble had his hands porsed
purposefully on the controls of the phase beam turrets. its a pairly sage bet to
say that at about this point in time the US government was regretting their
decision to appoint a convicted armed robber as their Chief of Advanced Propulsion
I'd just like to leave the world with a few words of my wisdom, now that I know
you're all listening" Barry sighed I guess I've reached a sont of what you'd call
enlightenment after realising there isn't a single person that cares now, on ever
will about my being alive it's true l've always been an outsider, a loner, but now
I see there was a reason for my solitude Have you guessed what it is yet? No? Well
let me tell you it's because the human race is a dead duck, a dead, cantankerous,
disease-carrying dirty duck So, I'm off. If I make it into deep space I'm getting
my own place, it'll be called Barry's World, and none of you are invited During
Barry's address almost everybody thought this was the ramblings of a man clearly
suggering with psychosis, and they'd be right, but a miniscule number were sont of
able to grasp what this incoherent shambles was about Peter, Barry's ex-window
cleaning apprentice, now a multimillionaire, watched the unfolding events on a
giant television inside his country mansion The opulent wealth that surrounded him
wouldn't exist if it hadn't of beer fon Barry, taking him as a youngster under his
spicy chicken wing The way he'd repaid the man that'd made such a positive impact
on his liye, by robbing his livelihood, made him geel very naughty Big Jobias
Robinson, Barry's first cellmate inside Weirdiways Prison watched the broadcast at
home with his budding family his wife was smiling as she held their beautiful
baby daughter The priendship he'd had with Barry had stopped him from going the
same way as his previous cellmate it was Barry who'd gwen him hope and made him
think was it really wonth killing himself de now knew taking his own live *** would
have been the biggest mistake he could have possibly made Jobias wished he'd told
his old friend just how much he was in debt to him, he was going to, but he'd gone
and forgotten, having been so busy running his spectacularly successful drug cartel
Sammy Nammy, now a Bricklayer, was watching Barry's outpouring of pain on a
portable telly while he laid bricks Sammy had been Barry's second inmate at
Weirdways and was aware his old cellmate had fought desperately with Mr
Merryweather to grant him a psychiatric evaluation It was then with deep regret
that hed never been able to thank the man who'd gotten his live back on track
Thanks to Barry he'd overcome the mental illness that had agglicted him so terribly
and subsequently pound lige to be full of delight. Because of this newfound joy in
existence he desperately hoped nobody noticed the foul smell emanating from under
his floorboards, the source of which being the dismembered bodies of his latest
murdervictims genny Dast, the only woman to ever fall in love with Barry watched
through teary eyes, wishing now she hadn't abandoned him on that night in London's
Empire Hotel She lamented not having made her feelings clear to him knowing he was
different and couldn't read the emotion of others. But it had all been just too
painful after seeing him in that hotel room with dirty dirty Sandra If I had just
told him how & pell, thought the stringy geekette abomination Mr Merryweather, the
whindiways Prison Warden and Barry's greatest enemy during his incarceration, had
Barry to thank for showing him that there can be goodness even inside the most
dangerous criminal Inmates of Windways no longer had to tolerate the same level of
inhuman treatment and conditions that enthusiasm just how destructive the
alterations were They'll cause some carnage those will They make nukes look like a
child's precrackers Boooom, oh yeah, that's it hot stufe cooking in the kitchen
tonight baby Yeah, do me, harder, harder, harder! What said. Barry horrified Well
you can't be too careful can you, anithing could be out there Barry didn't really
see why it was necessary to equip his creation with more armaments than a Klingon
Bird of Prey the took these reservations to Progesson Schreven Why may I ask has my
ship been turned into a harbinger of death and destruction? The Broomanaton is for
exploration I didn't build it as cudgel for you barbarians And you didn't, replied
Professon Schriever dismissively, not having time for what he considered to be a
hissy et on Barry's part. What do you call these then? Barry began pointing to the
various cutting edge armaments his once innocent spacecraft now possessed along
with the photon torpedoes, the Broomanaton now had phase beam turrets, pulse
detonation guns, molecular disintegration bombs, nerve-gas canisters, acture
camouflage and an exterion coated in matt black, radar-deflecting technology,
similar to that used on the Stealth Bomber The spacecraft was geared up to the
teeth to partake in one thing and one thing alone, mankind's favourde pass time-war
Progesson Schriever looked over Barry with lightless eyes you invented the warp
drive and anti-matter reactor You didn't build the weaponry did you on the ship
itself fon that matter? I won't allow it I won't allow my inventions to be used as
tools of tyranny Kredendum was right I'm afraid you don't have that choice Mr
Broomfield because the Broomaraton is US government property, besides, you needn't
worry as the armaments are only fon defence purposes, sust in case Captain Rico
encounters anything hostile Every piece of his small logic told Barry this was a
lie The nerve-gas, canisters especially couldn't be there just for defence as that
weapon has only one use and that is to be dropped on a large area like a city and
Barry also didn't forget the stealth technology and active camouflage that had
oberously been installed to allow the
Broomnaton to creep up on an unsuspecting enemy and take them by surprise. Feeling
a panic attack coming on, Barry felt helpless upon foreseeing burning alien
settlements, the steady march of black boots and the shockwaves of terron tearing
through the gallaxy as the pirst human waves hit The black hole had just been
trumped as the most destructive fonce in the universe Somewhere in the spiritual
world the Grim Reaper was sighing the bonewhite skeletal face looked even more
miserable than normal what with the knowledge that I'd probably be doing a lot more
overtime from now on Walking around the hangar, apparently in a trance, Barry began
pawing over blueprints pinned up on a wall that detailed the mass production of the
Broomanator as he trned and looked around at his kind while they bussed themselves
about his craft, tooling it up with yet more weaponry he was sure he could gaintly
make out the distinctive sound of the Imperial Death March, the one that Darth
Vader was partial to That horrible suffocating peeling that occurs when you know
you've cocked up big time was pelt plainly by Barry at this moment, only it was
ampliqued by a million because he knew he just might go down in history as the git
that destroyed the entire universe What have I done? What have I done? These apes
will destroy everything I told yer said. Kredendum Barry had taken the underground
shuttle back to The Complex Over some tea and crumpets he discussed with his best
friend the mess he'd inadvertently created and how to go about cleaning it up
What'll I do? I can't let this happen Kredendum paused in thought for a second
before saying You're the only person who knows how the warp drive and anti-matter
reacton really work aren't you? "The only human yeah They haven't produced anymore
Broomanatons have they? No not yet, but they're planning to once they've properly
tested this one, and after that happens all hell breaks loose "Why don't you
destroy the single Broomanator and all the plans of how it's built? Thinking
brightly at first that this was a fne