Title: Say High to Horror
Author: moi
Disclaimer: Despite repeated wishing I still do not own Constantine, Hellblazer, Warner Bros, or a boat no not even some sort of floating raft.
Rating: people swear, occult references (well it is Constantine), jokes followed by a drum going 'boom! Tish!', smoking( its bad for your health, did ya see the movie! Yikes), flashbacks to junior high (shudder). There may be punning.
Synopsis: John goes back to his high school reunion and hopefully zany things occur. I thought I take a break from 'serious'.
John was sweating profusely. The sweat making his $200 dollar shirt stick to his back like a sweaty wet shirt sticking to someone's back.
His shoes were fine. But he got them on sale anyway plus some gnomes owed him a favour.
A large dark package sat on his table. This table had seen many evil things pass it surface. Scarred from exorcisms and riddled with skid marks from John slamming some s.o.b of a demon across its face before deporting the bastard to hell it was on its last legs.
God damn it Constantine. Get your shit together. You've faced fucked up Arch-angels, Lucifer and his family, the IRS! (apparently you can't claim $200 dollar shirts as a work expense).
He could sense this powerful aura radiating from the package. How the hell it got past his doorway was a complete mystery to Constantine. The markings on his door should have barred something so overtly dark as the package that sat so innocently in front of him.
How the hell did it get there. The post master not even speaking to me after tried to send a demon via express post.
" We'll send anything everywhere my arse."
Some powerful sinister force was at work, Constantine could feel it. This was no ordinary dilemma.
There was nothing to it. He would just have to call for back up.
John Constantine, THE GREAT John Constantine picked up his phone and began to dial a number only to be greeted by a repetitive beep beep beeep your call could not be connected next time pay the bill you cheap bastard!
He then put down the phone, cursed himself first in latin then English before heading out to the nearest payphone.
Dodson. Angela Dodson. Detective of the L.A Police Force. One mean mother in a fight, with an expert aim and a mean right hook. She had faced murders, drug lords, irate drivers who wanted no frickin' tickets and oh yeah hell itself.
Angela Dodson. Detective Angela Dodson was currently very, very pissed off.
The target of her wrath was a tall skinny man clothed in black with greasy dark hair slicked back attempting to smile charmingly while swinging a set of well-worn keys.
" I've got nothing to say I want a lawyer. Yeh Hear me bitch! I know my rights. I've watched t.v. Law and Order twice a week bab ARRRGGHHH". Toby was cut off from finishing his sentence by the careful application of one fluffy bunny slipper in his mouth.
"Look mister" fingers jabbing into bony flesh.
Angela leaned forward menacingly and then when she realized she was still in her bathrobe leaned back a bit but continued the prodding.
" Keep your jive talking to yourself. I got home from a 14hour shift covered in other peoples blood, yes blood, I haven't slept in 36 hours, and all I want is a nice warm bath. Get it warm not freezing. I swear that my rubber ducky has turned into a penguin."
"fdgdske skhske fskyfsueq"
Pulling the slipper put of his mouth, Angela fixed him her best 'i'm taking no shit look' which was a squint followed by a raised eyebrow. Which actually made a suspect more puzzled than afraid, but the gun strapped to her leg, and arm and elbow helped a lot.
" I'm going to count to three and if I don't…"
brrrinng bring ok I have no idea how to type a phone noise, any suggestions
"Crap" Angela turned to her phone, strapped to her other leg just as the poor landlord squirmed out of her hold and slammed his door shut.
Outside Anglea could hear the bolts being slide back and the high pitched giggle of a man who had just excaped death or the very least suffocation by fluffy bunny slippers. She could also hear a triumphant pumping of the fists followed by more giggling
"Jive talking hahahaha 24 hour hot water ohohohahahahahahah now that kills me"
Angela pulled the gun off her elbow and prepared to go into terminator mode when her phone rang again.
This had better be good.
Fuming she marched upstairs to get dressed and strap on yet another gun. When it came to John Constantine it was always good to be prepared.
They get to school eventually!
Angela rushed up the stairs like a mad demonic dog was chasing her.
Bracing herself she slammed shoulder first into the flimsy door smashing it and startling a by now drenched in fear John Constantine.
She dived behind the couch and while shooting the hell out of the light fixture tackled John to the ground before throwing away her empty gun in disgust, pulled out another and shot all the legs off of the dinner table.
Only then did she notice that John was wearing funny shoes.
"I got them on sale. Hey do you think shirts like this one fall off the back of a truck?"
Rolling her eyes till they did a 360 Angela demanded to know what the big deal was that it couldn't wait till morning.
As bits of plaster wafted down covering John till he looked like someone suffering from a really bad case of dandruff; he shakingly pointed a finger towards the package which despite all the commotion and ammo flying was sitting intact on the table. Now with no space between it and the carpet.
Angela crept up towards the package and then realized it be better if she walked on her knees towards it.
It was surprisingly light and pretty innocuous looking. Brown paper tied with brown string devoid of any special markings except for the initials JK.
"Hey this isn't even for you" she cried out
John mopped his brow with some plaster.
"Look underneath that"
Turning the package Angela saw the words Busboy.
"oh yeah its for me Angela. I don't know what deal they made with the devil but they have finally found me."
"Who? Who has found you" Angela pleaded with her voice while her eyes eyed John's presumably working shower.
" The committee"
"Of demons hell bent on destroying the human race and bringing about death and destruction!"
"No" John shuddered displacing some plaster. " It's my High School alumni committee. They've found me".
Why is John so freaked out about a reunion? Will Angela finally get to wash her hair? Soon as I get some time I'll figure it out and write it down. In the meantime reviews would be welcomed. Happy reading and writing all.