Posts Tagged ‘creepy and hatboy’

apparently there ain’t no cure. we’ve been sitting here, in the television room, watching old doctor who episodes for some way to deal with davros, and also because there’s nothing else to do than watch him eat jelly babies. we considered calling him, but he’d never get here on time. i’ve been drinking a lot [...]

“did you find any evidence, creepy?”
“i’ve found a few crumbs. a possible partial bitemark. and there’s this scuff mark right here which might be helpful,” i pointed at the empty pot. “i think this was the murder weapon.”
he covered his eyes with a gasp. “put it away, creepy! wash it first, but put it away! i can’t stand to see the foul weapon of noodle destruction!”
i put the pot into the sink, watching as some leftover spicy soup drained away like the echoes of a hideous murder.
“oh, the noodlemanity.”

hatboy and i live in a house which doubles as both a place within which we engage ourselves in a battle of wits over control of the remote, and as a secret base of operations from where we pursue all manner of evil villains and force them into understanding that violence is not the answer to their own twisted childhood experiences.
sometimes we even make smoothies here.
ninjagirl lives here, too. we call her a squatter. she calls herself a roomie.

we crouched behind a barricade of splintered furniture and empty bookshelves. i’d piled everything else in front of the door.
we would have dug a trench, but we didn’t have a shovel.
hatboy’s been playing prison blues on an invisible harmonica because i won’t lend him my blues harp.
we sometimes hear sounds coming from behind the door. they sound like voices, only they shiver with evil.
hatboy says we might try to communicate with them. maybe, he says, they’ll respond to reason.
i point out that these are students who go to university. they know ninjagirl. they’re addicted to sugar and shopping malls. they had long nails and longer teeth.
“hey, boys,” a girlish voice giggles through the door. “aren’t you gonna come down and show us your manly bosoms?”
hatboy looks at me. “we’re doomed, creepy. doomed.”