Debs in the hood
October 22 2002 at 2:00 PM |
Harbinger of Death
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“What are you DOIIIING.” PtheticLosr was ready to smack Honey Bunch in just two seconds if she didn’t stop singing.
“I’m practicing. I heard there’s karaoke at the dead people party and I wanted to brush up on my pop rock.”
“I am going to send you there myself if you don’t stop it right this minute.” His look was, well, murderous.
She looked at him and defiantly brought the microphone to her mouth, pushing “Play” on the Paula Abdul karaoke tape. “Oooh baby, I’m forever your girl.”
He growled and was ready to pounce on her, but TheDeadMan held him back. “Don’t do that, you might not get to the party then,” he advised.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to be throttled too?” PL said accommodatingly.
“He’s a cold hearted snake, OH, look into his eyes,” Honey Bunch sang. SWOOSH.
“You are so lucky,” said PtheticLosr, before noticing his long, reptilian body and wide, spotted hood. “Hoo, maybe you’re not so lucky after all.” He prepared to strike the cobra next to him, but again the third slithered in the way. “Man, what is your PROBLEM?”
“I’m not the one with an attitude,” said TheDeadMan.
“Did you just stick your tongue out at me??”
“Dude, I’m a snake. I can’t help it.”
“Forget you two. I’m a cobra. I’m gonna go kick some ass.” He looked around to scout the best route away from these two when he spotted a pair of beady eyes looking at him. “Whatever! What are you gonna do to me, bud?” He raised his head, and took an aggressive stance.
“What are these things?” asked Honey Bunch, worried about the sleek furry animals that circled them slowly.
“Who cares?” asked PtheticLosr, just as a mongoose attacked him so swiftly he did not have time to react. Two others pounced upon the other snakes, their long claws cutting into cold skin. Each mongoose flung its prey to the ground again and again to daze it, and used its sharp teeth to tear it to pieces. Shreds of snake were dragged to the pack for a community lunch.
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