12:45 Sunday July 16th, 2012
ARMY Recon Chopper – 500 Feet in the Air
Every man, woman, and child was ripped apart in the town of Powell, Wyoming.
“The cocker spaniels are on the move, heading north East about 12-15 miles an hour,” Captain Hillard said to General Graft.
“Start the evacuation of Cody,” General Graft said into the microphone of his helmet.
1:15 PM Sunday July 16th, 2012
3rd Street Catholic Church, Cody, Wyoming – Emergency Response Town Meeting
A man stormed into the middle of the meeting. He was sweating, with grass stains on the knees of his jeans, holding a bottle of Jim Bean Whiskey.
“Can we help you?” the Priest asked.
“Now listen up! I’ve killed every kind of beast your heathen God has shat into existence. Vampires, Werewolves, Mummies, Asian Trolls, Warlocks, I even fucked a Witch once but I never killed one, fucking should have though… Dirty bitch.” He took a swig from the bottle. “Also shot down three alien space ships, started a riot in Harlem, and stole the frozen head of Walt Disney.”
A young woman, a third grade teacher, who was often talked about by the PTA as a possible “lesbian” on account of her never been seen with a man, raised a hand. He gestured at her with the bottle of Jim Bean.
“Sugar tits,” he said.
She flinched slightly before speaking and the blood rushed into her cheeks. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Jimbo. And that’s all you need to know.”
“Frankly, your language is appalling and I think you must be crazy. Vampires? There’s no such thing as Vampires.”
“As of yesterday there was no such thing as killer cocker spaniels. But today is today and what the fuck do you know about Vampires? You live in Cody, Iowa.”
“Cody, Wyoming,” the Priest informed him.
“I don’t know, nor do I care,” he took another swig. “What I do know is that you are plagued by a pack of vicious cocker spaniels. Let’s face it. You may like cock,” he winked at the Priest. “But I don’t. And I fucking hate the Spanish. We’re going to get every man, woman, and child a firearm and a sharp stick. We ain’t taking no fucking prisoners!”
“You need to leave right now,” the Priest said.
“I ain’t no ten year old boy, I don’t have to do what you say.”
“Now that’s just uncalled for,” said a large man standing up in the front row.
“Look at all you peasants getting riled up. Liable to let you just get eaten by the beasts at this rate. Haven’t even discussed my fees yet.”
“No, we aren’t paying you a dime,” an obese woman in a flower print dress said.
“Son, you’ve 30 seconds before I lock you up for being an asshole!” the Sherriff said. A collection of clapping came from the crowd.
Jimbo turned around and started walking out.
“And don’t come back!” the flower print dress woman yelled.
Jimbo suddenly stumbled and then raced for the communion fountain. He began to throw up into the holy water a roast beef sandwich he’d stolen for breakfast earlier.
“Oh Jesus!” could be heard coming from a few of them.
When Jimbo was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then took another drink spitting it back out on the ground.
“I even shot my own dog when it got the rabies… Pay me the $500 bucks and some of you might just make it to tomorrow.”
He walked out drinking the rest of the bottle.
A confused roar of comments came from the crowd.
“That man is crazy!” “Who does he think he is?” “Alcoholic!” “Must be from Canada.” “In the fountain.” “Baby Jesus!” “$500!” “Was that dried semen on the front of his pants?” “Vampires!” “Disgusting!” “He should be arrested.” And so on…
But slowly the sound of howling in the distance quieted them. The beasts were approaching.
“Maybe $500 isn’t so bad,” someone said.
12:45 Sunday July 16th, 2012