5: Enter Frederick and Newman Gerber
"Two twos," Frederick stated nonchalantly as he placed two cards face-down over two other face-down cards that were presumably ones. The name of the game was Bullshit. The rules were that one player sets down however many ones they have in their hand. The next player then sets down the same number of how many twos they have in their hand. The next player sets down the same number of how many threes they have in their hand and so forth. However, if you have less than the required amount of a certain number, you have to bullshit the others. Meaning you have to set down another card in place of the missing card or cards. If a player is wise to your bluffing they say "Bullshit!" and display that either they made a mistake and must take all the cards in the deck or that the player lied and must take back the cards he/she had set down. If you catch a person lying, they have to take a shot of rum. If you try to catch a person lying and do not succeed, you must take a shot of rum. The goal is to get rid of all the cards in your hand first.
"Bullshit!" Veronica, that oh so voluptuous of teens, energetically stated as her long arm shot like a bullet to the top two cards and revealed Frederick's bluff. She held a two and King in her hand. "Drink up, bitch"
Frederick smiled and flashed her the bird before taking back his cards and pouring himself a shot of rum. He downed it and then clenched his teeth and eyes shut. The burning sensation passed just in time for him to shout "Bullshit" at Newman, who had just laid down two cards he was claiming were fives. Frederick grabbed the two cards and then groaned as he spotted Newman's mischievous smile. Sure enough there were two fives in on top of the deck of cards. "Mother fucker!" he shouted in a high voice. Then he glanced at the stairs leading up from the basement. He thought he had heard descending footsteps, but that was apparently in his mind as there was no one on the stairs.
"Shot numero dos and only five turns in," he let out a single, resounding "Haaaahhhh"
"You suck at this game," Robert threw in from beside Veronica, his hand no doubt massaging her thigh under the table.
Frederick took the shot and then slammed the small glass down on the table. "Play me at Dice, you pure-D asshole," he joked.
"I'd smoke ya at that, too," Robert stated confidently.
"Actually..." Newman began. "He's the champ at that game. He's won four out of five games and I ain't fucking bluffing there"
"So you two just sit around all day playing Dice?" Robert asked.
"Yep," Frederick said.
"Okay, then. The Gerber babies don't do shit with their lives"
"One one," Veronica said. She then laid the card down.
"Bullshit," Frederick said and revealed his friend's bluff. There was a ten on the table. Frederick smiled and pushed the bottle of rum across the table to Veronica. "Drink up... bitch"
Veronica sighed and brushed her dirty-blonde hair back from her eyes. "Anyone got a chaser?" Chasers were any alcoholic beverage that had been mixed for the purpose of wiping away the taste and burn of a shot of rum.
Fred glanced to the side. He again could've sworn he had heard approaching footsteps. Again there was nothing there.
"No chasers," Newman and Derrick, who had been dormant until that moment, replied simultaneously.
"You're shuffering mi lady," Robert said in an imitation of Sean Connery. Veronica threw a bad look at him and Robert let out a laugh. "I'm shorry mah dear. Will you ever foind it in yah big ol' hairt to ever forgive ush"
Veronica cracked a smile. "Oh, alright you fag. Shot glass?" Newman grabbed a clean one from the table behind him and slid it over to her. She filled it to the brim and took it all down. She then started groaning and stomping her feet constantly. She let out a big breath and started breathing heavily. "Goddamn! I said 'Goddamn"
Laughter erupted from everyone else at the table.
The laughter was cut off when half of Robert disappeared into the gaping maw of an invisible creature. A spray of blood that splashed over the monstrous shape made visible only by the blood clinging to its skin. Veronica began to shriek. The mutilated half-body of Robert sunk to the floor and the blood hanging in the air making out the shape of a very slightly gorilla-like face moved swiftly over to her and she also disappeared into thin air.
After that they were all running.
Newman and Frederick went straight for the basement stairs and up into
the kitchen. Derrick ran to the basement window and was climbing
through it when the invisible creature pulled him back in and chowed
down on his scrumptious organs. His screams died mere moments after
Newman and Frederick had vacated the basement.
Their parents had been gone for the night so they were alone in the house. "What the FUCK WAS THAT?" Newman screamed.
"No clue!" Frederick replied. "No clue! No clue! It ATE them! Jesus H. Christ it DEVOURED them"
"I
know! I know! It was invisible! IT WAS INVISI-FUCKING-BLE!" It was dawn
and the group had gotten together to drink and smoke pot. They had been
driving around the full night beforehand smoking joint after joint in
Newman's car. They had returned with sleep on their minds, but had
decided to party some more before crashing out. This invisible creature
had jolted the two surviving brothers to a state of full awareness
despite them having been stoned and slightly buzzed off of alcohol.
There
were ascending, heavy footsteps on the stairs leading into the kitchen.
Fred suddenly understood that he really had been hearing something that
whole time they were playing the game.
"IT'S COMING!" Newman exclaimed and ran outside of the house. Fred followed after hearing the slapping of meaty feet on the floor of the kitchen. He didn't want to see the blood hanging in mid-air again.
Outside screams were raising into the early morning air. Fires raged up and down the street. Distant gunfire cracked.
Three
imps passed by their house chasing after a motorcyclist speeding
head-long down the street. A flying skull tore a chunk out of one of
their neighbors' faces and was hit by a car which subsequently crashed
into a house and ran over two people in the process. A biomechanical
dog/bull chased down a pre-teen on a bike and shredded them to ribbons.
Five floating heads sprayed balled static electricity over the land,
catching trees, bushes, and lawns on fire.
The two were
cemented to their patio in fear and disbelief. Only when a red,
floating, cycloptic balloon noticed them and fired its patented static
electricity ball at them did they run. Newman dodged to the right and
Fred to the left. The welcome mat burst into fire as did the invisible
beast that had been moments from ripping both of them a new one
simultaneously.
The floating head gracefully flew down into the
patio and stared at its accidental kill. Fred hoped it would be
indecisive about which of them it would go after. The hope was futile
as the head rotated to face Newman and took chase, shooting at him.
Fred ran after Newman and the head with no idea of what he was gonna do
when he caught up with them. His mind was just running random thoughts
through and committing random actions. His rational mind had taken a
momentary vacation.
He ran through people's backyards and across
streets. Most demons around were luckily too busy maiming and killing
other innocents to give a damn about Fred or Newman.
A few streets south of their own Fred found Newman running back at him with a dazed look in his green eyes. "RUN! RUN!" Newman brushed past Fred and sprinted back in the direction from which they had come. Fred looked to see what all the commotion was about.
What
he saw was the deflated body of the floating head engulfed in blood red
flames. He wondered what was so frightening about that, then he saw
what had killed it. He suddenly felt like a tiny insect waiting to be
squished. It was an eight foot tall, red minatour with two devilish
horns sprouting from the sides of its head. Its cloven feet scuffed the
sidewalk as shuffled closer to look at its kill. It then let out a
scream of victory that shook him to his very bones just before it shot
two pure red fireballs from
its wrists at the dead, burning body.
Then it spotted Fred.Fred ran. He ran faster than he had ever ran in his life, passing by his sprinting brother before long. His mind was in a state of pure panic. He was too worked up to even think about his three dead friends in the basement of his house. He was too horrified to grieve for them.
When he reached the house again he tore his brother's car's door open and jumped into the driver's side seat. He then snatched the ignition. Of course there were no keys and of course Fred could not ignite the car's engine. He screamed in frustration and dismay just before Newman piled into the passenger seat and shoved the keys violently into the ignition and started the car.
"DRIVE MOTHER FUCKER! DRIVE!" Fred threw
the car into reverse and burned rubber getting out of the driveway. He
then floored the car and they took off down the street going faster
than they should've. They wound their way through the city and avoided
accidents. A flying skull slammed into their rear bumper, but that
caused almost no damage at all to the car.
In this apocalyptic world, the two brothers disappeared from sight and waited for the initial attack to subside.
