Those boomerangs were suggestively sharpened.
“W-w-w-w-w-w-hat do you want?” I asked with tonally abject fear.
“Oh, you know,” he replied brandishing those boomerangs in a stunningly objective way.
Suddenly there was a clatter behind me and Slait’s eyes widened in unabashed unease.
“W-w-w-w-w-w-hat is THAT?” he asked in a dumbfounded way.
I turned around and there was Jerome minus a dangling dead head sprinting into the room. With a scream he headed towards Slait who dropped the boomerangs and then dropped himself to the floor.
After a few twitches, he lay still.
“Is he……dead?” I asked in quite the lackadaisical way.
Jerome walked over to the prone body, tore off his own head and pummeled Slait’s still body with the head until it was nothing more than a puddle of mush and bones.
“Well, he is now,” Jerome’s head said without a trace of animosity as he headed back to the basement/laboratory.
Then the doorbell rang. Since it still is the season for PCH, I stepped over the growing puddle of grue and flung open the door.
Instead of PCH, I found myself staring down the barrel of a slew of kittens.
Behind those kittens was Slait Piperiz.
And he looked really angry.
“Remember me?” he asked as he forced his way into my home.
More Lunatic Ravings…
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