2.d.v
The orange
Halloween haze and black-lit colors faded from Mr. Jones’s sight leaving him in
the fluorescent ache of the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. The Greed-boy leaned against a store display,
tapping his foot and rocking in an agitated manner.
“Finally,”
said The Greed-boy. “You know, you
should get yourself checked. Zoning out
like that in the middle of a fight.
Gonna get you killed some day.”
Mr. Jones
glanced around. His eyes were confused
and lost until he spotted Tanya and her box of freezer bags. Then the clarity returned.
“Leave that
boy alone, Greed,” Mr. Jones said.
“Ah yes. That’s it,” said The Greed-boy, the deep
gurgle returning to his voice. He
sauntered forward a couple of steps.
“The boy is mine and will be for his entire life.”
“Fight him
boy. Cast him out!”
“Arrghh! No!” yelled The Greed-boy.
“Be like… Dick
Danger,” Mr. Jones said spotting the rocket man image on the boy’s shirt. “Be a hero.
Be upstanding and honest.”
“Arrh. Oh no.
What’s happening to me?” The Greed-boy screamed, clutching at his lower
abdomen. “I can’t stand it. It’s… It’s… not working this time.”
The Greed-boy
stood upright and smirked with the boy’s mouth.
“Fight him
boy. Fight,” Mr. Jones tried again.
“Do you even
know what kind of space ranger Dick Danger is?” asked The Greed-boy, the gurgle
in his voice slightly diminished. “He wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of
any situation in order to get what he wanted.
He’s not like the upstanding, noble heroes you used to get. After all these years, the heroes these kids
look up to are more like me than they are like you.”
“I… I…” Mr. Jones
stammered.
“Wait, wait,
wait,” said Tanya. “This? This is that big moment your were blathering
on about while Jonesy was in his trance?”
The Greed-boy
smiled, and with a low, gurgle-choked voice he said, “Not exactly. It went a little more like this.”
The possessed
boy raised his arms and a dozen nearby Price Killers Wholesale Superstore
customers lifted off the ground, a dirty, translucent, slimy tentacle jammed up
their backsides. They swayed back and
forth, held aloft like filthy puppets.
“I’m deep into
most of America
these days,” The Greed-boy shouted over the rising screams of the un-puppetted
shoppers. “Look around your Corporate Man. It’s my kind of world and you’re just an
insignificant clean spot waiting to be stained.”
More customers
throughout the superstores rose up from the ground. Cracks fissured through the concrete floor
and beastly greed-tentacles erupted all around.
The Greed-boy waited just a moment longer, for effect, and then he
started swinging Price Killers Wholesale Superstore patrons at Tanya and Mr.
Jones; like a sludgy octopus deftly wielding people-mallets.