Battle Of the Network Zombies by Henry Mark - Amanda Feral 03

Author:Henry, Mark - Amanda Feral 03 [Henry, Mark - Amanda Feral 03]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-01-14T19:14:24+00:00

CHANNEL 12

Wednesday

10:00-11:00 P.M.

Satyr Island 8

Molly finds herself in a hot mess of trouble as Leroy gallops to a victory in the weekly "virginity cup." Will she survive the dreaded interspecies mating prize? Tune in!

Just because things went well with Scott, don't go thinking I started shooting stars and moonbeams out my ass--we are, after all, talking about...me. How I rose to the top of karma's shit list was still a mystery. Another one. I mean, seriously, don't I play my part in alleviating the homeless crisis? Aren't you happy not to have to put up with a herd of patchouli-smelling hippies picketing your favorite boutiques? Haven't I improved the general aesthetic of the supernatural scene?

I'm going with yes.

I'm a fucking giver. I don't care what you say.

So stashing Raj's full-sized cab on the grounds of Harcourt Manor should have been way easier.

It's not like I could just pull it up to the door, Baljeet hollering on and on in that ugly mish-mash of words--the damn radio must have some magical power supply for the beating she put it through. It was bound to draw attention--maybe less so than out in the ghetto neighborhood surrounding the Minions Mansion, where it would either be stripped or used as a shooting gallery, or worse, a toilet--especially with the phone number tattooed across it twenty million times, as if anyone has ever tried to call a cab that just passed them. Come back! No. Doesn't happen. But one of the bitches up in the mansion might just respond to Baljeet's call, just to be spiteful. With the slew of threats the woman had vomited during the drive back, I just couldn't risk it. Apparently she's fond of both eviscerations and amputations, to hear her tell it.

Old Mister Withers, let's call him, the caretaker, shambled up to the gate in a rain slicker, torrents streaming down the folds. He tugged at the lock a few times, finally slamming his fist down on it to get the mechanism going. Fifteen minutes, people. To think he didn't get the finger as we blew past him. Lumpy chastising Pie-hole for an impromptu b-a, an affront to only two people and the intended victim wasn't one of them.

"Get your hairy ass out of my face!" he yelled, causing the dwarf to just shake his wide haunches all the more, ass jiggling like a rap video dancer. Lumpy's aura turned bright red, his face seethed with anger. "Knock it off!"

He swung at Pie-hole and, to my surprise, made contact, doubling the ghost over.

"Jeez. Cool it, I was just fuckin' around."

"Fuck around over there." He pointed to the opposite side of the car. "Or on the roof. Nowhere near my face or I'll do you worse next time."

I curved past Withers's cabin and pointed the cab into a gap in the undergrowth. A squeal echoed as branches dragged their sharp nails against the body and the windshield was showered in pine needles. They wriggled in rainy rivulets like teeming maggots.

"Jesus!" Pie-hole yelled.

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