Sunday, November 21, 2004

Chapter 9 part 2

Word Count: 1042
Total: 18,077
There's more to come today. My vacation has begun.

A good percentage of Misses Crablebottom was carved up when several police cars pulled up outside the front of the house. She had long since passed out, but her initial screams, coupled with the headless cab driver in the driveway, had prompted the neighbors to call the authorities.

"Come out with your hands up!" a voice rang out from a megaphone.

"I thought they only said that in movies." Imp said.

He then pulled a 357 magnum out of his suit, and smashed a window.

He stuck his head out the window to yell, "You'll never take me alive copper!"

Imp let off a few shots out the window, and then ducked to wait for return fire. Skip was also on the ground now, hoping to avoid being shot. The return fire did not come.

"What the fuck are they waiting for? I want some gunplay." Imp said.

"Isn't it enough that you just carved up an innocent lady and fed her to her cats?" Skip replied.

"Hey, it's the best meal those cats have ever had. They look healthier already. Besides, that lady was a worthless sack of shit. She's better off dead." Imp said, and let off a couple more rounds out the window.

A few moments later the voice on the megaphone cracked on "Hold your fire, we want to send in someone to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Imp said. "Are these some kind of pussy cops? I thought they only negotiated before you fire shots at them."

Imp stood up, picked up the last plate of Crablebottom cat food, and walked to the door.

"This ought to make things interesting for the boys in blue out there." He said, and opened the door to toss the plate out on the lawn.

Imp then held the door open for a flood of cats to rush out toward the plate. The negotiator approaching the house found himself between the cats and the plate of food. He turned to run, but they were already under his feet. He stumbled, and 5 cats leapt on his back. He tripped again and fell to the ground.

While the other officers stood dumbfounded by the site of their negotiator being mauled by a pack of domestic house cats, Imp led Skip to the garage. The car housed there was the furthest from what Skip would have expected to find in the garage of a crazy lady who owned 101 cats. It was a black 1973 Ford Falcon, with the engine sticking out of the hood, and two machine guns mounted on the back. The front end was reinforced with thick black steel bars. It was straight out of Mad Max.

"Why would that lady have THIS car?" Skip asked.

"Well, she was crazy." Imp said, and hopped in the driver's seat. "Hop in, lets take this baby for a spin."

"I don't know if you noticed, but the city's entire police force is out there. By now they've probably called in the national guard." Skip replied.

"That's what the machine guns are for." Imp said, and started the car.

Skip resigned, and sat down in the passenger's seat. The inside of the car was modernized. It had an electronic dash, and a monitor with cross hairs in the center. Imp pressed a button, and a joystick popped out from the glove box.

"So I guess I'm supposed to control the guns?" Skip said.

"Boy, you're quick." Imp replied, and slammed his foot down on the gas petal.

The tires squealed, and the car turned the garage door to splinters. It sped out and veered hard to the left. They skimmed by the cab, and crashed head on into the fronts of two patrol cars. The Falcon had no trouble pushing the patrol cars out of the way with its reinforced front end, and supercharged V-8 engine.

The car careened through a hail of bullets and onto the street. Imp swerved back and forth through the light suburban traffic, as a swarm of police cruisers followed in hot pursuit.

"Don't just sit there! You're the gunner dammit, gun!" Imp yelled.

Skip took hold of the joystick, and maneuvered the crosshairs around the monitor. He aimed at the nearest police cruiser and pulled the trigger. Shots rang out from behind them. Skip watched the on the monitor as the guns shredded the front end of the cruiser. A bullet struck the engine block, and big plumes of smoke billowed from under the hood.

The chase continued, and soon they were leaving the suburbs and approaching heavy city traffic. Imp swerved around a corner and onto a main street. They drove forward 2 blocks, and found themselves stuck at a traffic light. Black smoke rose up from the tires as Imp slammed on the breaks and spun the car back in the opposite direction.

The police came screaming around the corner to block their escape. A wall of flashing lights and sirens now stood between the black Ford Falcon and a clean getaway. Imp revved the engine.

"Now what?" Skip asked.

"Just wait a minute. They should be catching up." Imp replied.

"They? What are they?" Skip asked.

"They are a little surprise for the keystone cops out there." Imp said.

Several more police vehicles arrived, along with the swat team, and a helicopter. A man wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet stepped forward with a megaphone.

"Step out of the car, and put your hands on top of your head!" The man yelled over the megaphone.

"Here kitty kitty kitty..." Imp said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a giant house cat came running from the side street and bit the officer in half. The big cat held the top half of the man's torso and began pulling out his innards with its teeth. All of a sudden there were a dozen more giant house cats, rampaging through the streets, and eating the unsuspecting pedestrians.

The police completely forgot about the black Ford Falcon with the machine gun turrets mounted on the back. They were now preoccupied with a heard of hungry house cats the size of grizzly bears. The traffic jam cleared up, and Imp drove away with the rest of the afternoon commuters.


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2:18 PM  

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