Flash Fiction Friday: Prompt: ANYTHING GOES – Battle Royale with your favorite villians, monsters and myths.
The bus driver was speeding along the decrepit Florida interstate trying to avoid the genetically engineered mega-pythons that stalked anyone unfortunate enough to break down and have to pull over when I saw the banner hanging across the road. It read, “The Living Are Friends, Not Food!” reminding me that the annual Vegetarian Zombies Association convention was in town and that it would be a bitch to find a motel room. Given the increased radiation levels and toxic fallout drifting up from the Dick Cheney Memorial Waste Dump located where the Everglades use to be all the good rooms were sure to be long taken. A tough break, but in my two-thousand years of living few of my professions have offered more in the way of getting to really know people than the occupation of private detective that I currently practiced.
A couple of hours later I was on the other side of Orlando inside the enclosed aerodrome sipping cocktails. While waiting for the call to board I fingered the old plasma blaster I kept for protection trying to decide what I would do when I found them. My boss had left their fate in my hands with his only request that I be “creative.” I had plenty of time to figure that out how I would accomplish that, until then I would indulge my darker side and dine on pan-fried calamari.