O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
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“Shit,” cried Bob, in full sprint. “What are these guys so pissed
about?”
“Aw, man. I stole one of those guys’ wallets when they came
around looking for Harvey,” said Wade, his pendulous belly
threatening to bounce itself free from his body.
“Those dudes look really mean,” Leonard said, panting, “You
think they’re gonna kill us?”
“I don’t know,” Wade grunted. “Hey! Let’s go jump on that stage
over there. They’d never kill us on stage.”
“Right!” said Bob.
As they approached the outdoor theater, it became evident that
there would be no way to get past the beefy security guards at the
front, so the three of them opted to run in the side entrance.
Fortunately, it was unmanned. Their pursuers followed them in. The
pursuer of the pursuers also followed. It was very dark backstage,
and difficult to figure out how to get to the front. In all the
commotion, Melinda got trampled and suffered a minor concussion.
Luckily, her hair cushioned most of the blow. Backstage security,
acting fast, managed to successfully subdue and contain some of the
trespassers. A few slipped through, though.
As fate would have it, of the three of the fugitives, only Bob managed
to reach the stage.
As fate would have it, of the two of the pursuers, only Gareth
managed to pursue him onto the stage.
As fate would have it, Muchoman was there too.
As fate
nearly
had it, Florence Henderson would have been one
of the individuals responsible for the fate of the human race. Florence
Henderson was at that time one of the most enlightened human
beings on Earth, and would have been an ideal candidate.
But fate put its money on Deaf Lemon Hopkins.
There was a blinding flash.
And then another one. Two more followed, and then two more.
An aroma of finely charred flesh permeated the area where the
audience stood. Many people rubbed their eyes and tried vainly to
make the spots disappear from their field of vision. A sort of
commiserative laugh was heard. Most were a little annoyed that the
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