Monday, 25 April 2016

Xander interview

Here you go, my first interview with the decade old maestro Mr Xander Presley-Best.

1) How many tattoos do you have and which one is your favourite?

How does one measure tattoos when they grow into full sleeves or full trousers? (or whatever the tattooing term for covered legs is)
I have two full sleeves, a couple dotted here about on my back and chest, a half leg and numerous others on every limb and appendage. I don't have any in any rude places. So, for the answer to 'how many', I'll say approximately lots. My favourite one is probably my Ghostbusters sleeve.

2) What's your favourite book?

My favourite book ever is called Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I highly recommend you go out and acquire a copy, there's nowt in it that you wouldn't see in Adventure Time or The Simpsons and it's funny as Hell and Heaven to read.

3) What's your favourite book that you made?

So far, I'm really proud of my current WIP (work in progress- a cool writer abbreviation for you there!). It's called 'FUR' and it's my first attempt at part of the horror genre I never thought I'd unleash (<<< that's a pun that's about to get hysterical), about werewolves! ( :-D BOOM!) 
Either that, my first novel 'Pinprick', due out June, or my first novella 'The Cat Came Back' which is due this year too.

4) Will you be making horror books that are suitable for children?

I'm always up for a challenge and that's something I'd love to do. I grew up reading Roald Dahl books and I don't care what anyone says there's quite a bit of horrific goings-on in those books.
And look at the amount of horror in fairy tales?!
And look at this:

           Xander's Meanders.
     By Matthew Cash
The scenic countryside whizzed past the windows, grass, mountains, quaint little chalets and wooden farm buildings.
Xander leaned against the glass of the train window testing the boundaries of the travel sickness that his continuous staring at close passing by objects was inducing. He wondered if he were to lean out of the window and expel a hot geyser of puke how far and how fast it would travel before hitting the ground. An image of a immaculately dressed business man leaning out of a window the opposite end of the train getting hit with the lumpy milkshake of his breakfast made him smile to himself. But trains were safer now, apparently, in the olden days when his Mum had been young people used to have to lean out of train windows and open the doors with an actual handle. They had windows you could actually lean out of. He had seen an episode of an ancient sitcom at his Dad's once where some ginger metalhead had leaned out of a moving train window and had his head decapitated by a passing train. He had then proceeded to stumble headlessly along the railway track kicking his own head as it shouted obscenities at the decapitated body. It was silly, but kind of amusing. Not only would you not be able to survive decapitation, but he seriously doubted the vocal chords would be intact to enable talking. It was stupid really.
He considered putting his mum's knowledge on decapitation and the effects on the human anatomy to the test but she was a flurry of arms, like Dr Octopus in Spiderman, giving drinks, taking drinks, wiping, and fussing over his two little sisters Alexis and Rebekah. Isobel, his other sister, was watching something on her tablet, headphones in, oblivious to the beautiful sights outside.

He turned and smiled at his mum, her hair was red this month, he said she should have dyed a white cross up the centre of it so her hair would resemble the flag of the country they were in. Switzerland. His eyes caught the glance of the weird looking man a few seats away. He looked like one of the old Doctors in Doctor Who, the one with the crazy white hair who drove around in an old yellow car. The third Doctor it had been. This guy could've been going to a convention or something, he looked like he was trying to be The Doctor with his eccentric clothes, red velvet jacket and bow tie.
A male voice announced in German before a female translated into English, "the train is now approaching Bathsaltz."
His mum whizzed about packing everything away getting his sisters in check as the train slowed down into the old mining town.

They had to take a cable car up the mountain to get to the caves, he and his sisters three had their noses and hands pressed against the glass watching as they rose through the air. He never thought a cable car could hold so many people, there were at least twenty people in this one, including the weird staring Jon Pertwee man.

The caves were cool, dark, cold and dripping as all caves should be. Interesting stalactites and stalagmites, one dragged his attention from the other members of the tour. It was exactly the same shape as naked bum. To anyone with eyes this should have been a form of amusement and Xander was astonished that he guide hadn't exhibited it as part of the tour. "Behold, the famous butt rock."
When the hand clamped down on his shoulder he instantly thought he was going to be told off for looking at the bum boulder. Xander turned to see the torch and headlights of the tour party bobbing far off. Swallowing back the fear of being told off he pulled his most innocent face and turned to the owner of the hand grabbing his shoulder.
It was the Jon Pertwee man. The light of his headlamp made him look sinister like a wizened old gargoyle as he smiled down at him.
Xander was lost for words so didn't say anything."
"Anything louder than hushed voices could cause a cave in. Do not scream."
The man's accent was German.
"Er, why would I need to scream?" Xander asked in a hushed voice.
The man frowned, "Er, Hello, I'm a old man grabbing a young boy in a dark secluded place. Do they not teach you stranger danger in British schools?"
Xander thought about this, "What's your name?"
The man seemed taken aback, "Victor Krauss."
"My name's Xander, my mum was a Buffy fan." Xander said trying to shrug the man's hand off his shoulder.
"I killed my mother and made her skin into a leather settee." Victor said menacingly.
"Woh," said Xander, " she must have been so, so, so unbelievably fat! Or it was a tiny sofa, was it a child's sofa or one for a doll's... "
"My mum was not fat!" Victor said seemingly hurt. "You're missing the point."
Xander scratched his chin as the realisation hit him, "Oh, did you have other skins available and like sew them together or something?"
Victor was dumbstruck, what the hell was wrong with children these days? Here he was, a unstoppable serial killer, about to claim yet another victim, and the kid wasn't phased. They let them watch too many things they shouldn't be allowed to watch these days. "I'm the one that the newspapers of the world are calling 'the suitcase killer'!" That should scare the little sod, thought Victor.
Xander giggled, "You wouldn't be able to kill our suitcase, my mum said it almost killed her getting on the train."
Victor groaned loudly and withdrew a knife from his red velvet jacket, "look, I'm going to skin you and make you into an umbrella stand." he raised the knife, "It's going to hurt. A lot."
Too right, thought Xander as he ducked out of the knife's trajectory and elbowed the old man in the gonads, I hate umbrellas.
The knife missed him and plunged straight into the central crack on the previously mentioned bum rock.
Xander couldn't resist a snigger but soon stopped as the smooth buttocks of rock began to split apart and open a large fissure in the cave flooring.
Victor lost his footing and slid into the aperture, not before grabbing Xander's ankle.

Xander and Victor the Suitcase Killer fell, fell and then when they thought they were going to land they fell some more.  The ground surprised them, as ground often did when you were falling towards it at a rapid speed in total darkness, but luckily a jagged piece of rock caught up in the elastic on Xander's Adventure Time pants and slowed his descent. He landed on something soft that made a noise like a dog laughing.
Something tickled his face and he instinctively clapped his hands as though catching imaginary flies, quite coincidentally, and in no way at all a really lame reason for the author of this to add some much needed lighting for the following scene, a clap-on clap-off light was activated.
Xander wasn't expecting the scene before him. He was in a small room covered in swastikas and other Nazi regalia and some would say memorabilia, flags that hadn't seen the light of day for seventy years, and crude graffiti along the likes of 'Hitler was 'ere!' but obviously in German.
Just to the left of where he sat was an open casket with a dried, mummified corpse in brown clothing, a small toothbrush moustache and the haircut made it all clear to Xander that he had found the body of Adolf Hitler. He noticed he had fangs, long, sharp, pointy, ouchy looking ones.
Xander was no fool, "It's a good job I didn't cut myself and bleed on you. Everyone knows how that would end."
He noticed that he was sitting on the Suitcase Killer, that was the soft thing he landed on. Being a little bit grossed out, he shifted his weight only to be further disgusted as a red arch of arterial blood sprayed from a fatal wound in the Killer's neck. "Urgh!" Xander grimaced and watched the blood spray onto Hitler's vampiric cadaver. Straight onto his face and trickling into his dead mouth.
Xander then said a very bad word, a swear one, and instinctively looked about to make sure his mum wasn't going to pop up and shout at him. But she wasn't there so he said it again, twice.
The dry leathery skin of dead Hitler absorbed all of Victor The Suitcase Killer's blood and was regenerating at a rapid speed.
Hitler's eyes snapped open and Xander was a tiny bit impressed that his irises were red and the black pupils swastika-shaped, that's dedication. His lips drew back from his fangs and he hissed and Xander evilly, in German.
Ever the quick thinker Xander leapt up and ran towards a big flashing neon arrow that had just randomly appeared for simple lack of the author's imagination. It beeped and all.
At the end of the arrow, which also said 'EXIT' was a dead posh looking lift, all fancy like with shiny buttons and  chrome. Xander pressed the button and was surprised but grateful that the doors pinged open straight away to reveal a comfortable chaise longue. He sat on it after pressing the only button inside and hoped that the doors would shut before Vampire Hitler got him.
The nasty Nazi flew towards the lift and shouted, "sheiße'' as the Doors shut in his face.
The lift went up and a Miley Cyrus song started playing, Xander wished there was a down button.
Xander screamed in agonisingly terrible terror as the song turned into a whole album and he attempted to force each of his entire hands into his earholes to block out the audible torture.
After a few minutes of this epitome of earbleeding witchery the lift stopped and Xander leapt out into whatever fate awaited him, anything was better than Vampire Hitler and Miley Cyrus' Greatest Tits, I mean Hits.

The lift had zipped back down as soon as Xander landed on the dirty tiled floor.
It was some kind of restaurant as tables and chairs loomed as ominously as table and chairs can loom in the near darkness. Xander crawled across the floor away from the lift and under the nearest table.
He heard the sound of big heavy footsteps approaching. From the other side of the restaurant somewhere a door was opened as the owner of the footsteps, along with a considerable amount of light, entered.
Xander picked up a laminated  menu from the floor and gasped in astonishment.  
He looked at the brightly coloured menu, a cartoon bear said the place was called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
Xander couldn't believe what was going on, this was the stuff of nightmares and he was starting to wish he had gone to the toilet on the train when his Mum had told him too.
Everybody knew about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza place, how the place was shut down after the owner went nuts and killed five children and stuffed their bodies into the four man-sized animatronic animals that had once been the restaurant's gimmick. According to the owner, who's own death in itself was mysterious, the robotic animals came alive and killed whoever they came in contact with. They had found the man pounded and mashed all up and stuffed inside the mechanisms of a unused robot Archie the Aardvark.
Some weirdo had made a lot of money by stealing the whole story and making a video game franchise out of it and set it in the USA.

Xander cowered beneath the table as the stomping footfalls got closer shaking the furniture. A large orange pair of webbed duck feet stopped in front of the lift. The Doors opened and Vampire Hitler jumped out of the lift and collided with the thing with duck feet. The undead dictator barked orders to the thing and it let out a slow mechanical quack in reply.

The seven foot tall duck started over turning the tables in a bid to find the boy who had woken their sleeping master prematurely.
Xander scooted backwards on his bum, still clutching at the laminated menu as his table was thrown aside and he beheld the animatronic called Chica in all its glory. A seven foot tall yellow duck on steroids with arms and legs wearing a blood stained t-shirt with 'let's eat' on it. Its face lowered towards the cowering Xander, eyes twinkling with silver, and said, "quack?" And reached down a feathery hand to grab him.
Chica lifted Xander like he weighed nothing and moved him towards his opened beak. Inside the beak, behind row upon row of sharpened metal teeth, were whirring cogs that acted like an industrial mincer.
Xander screamed and kicked and flicked his legs and arms.
"Halt," shouted Vampire Hitler, and the duck halted.
Vampire Hitler peered disgustedly at the dangling ten year old boy in his minion's grasp and spoke English with a comical German accent, pronouncing W's with V's, that sort of thing. "Vat iz ze meanink ov my premature ejaculation from my slumber?!"
Xander sniggered even though he was far too young and innocent to get the funny thing said in that sentence, but he made a mental note to ask his mum on the way home from school at some point... If he survived. " was an accident." 
Vampire Hitler shrugged, "Very vell, I vill just have to start ze third world war early. Soon my army of animatronic avengers vill rise and destroy ze vorld! Fast food characters, football mascots, every fancy dress costume involving zome fake head since my last demise has been made to my specific instructions. To kill at my command!"
Xander quivered in the duck's hand, world war three was imminent, there was nothing he could do. He stared towards a pair of closed doors, a bright light shining from around them.
Vampire Hitler smiled, "Ah, my prized minion has arrived, together ve shall conquer the vorld." He gestured for Chica to open the doors, "Behold, my chariot, my most valuable weapon, Golden Freddy!"
Xander couldn't believe it was true, the mythological Golden Freddy was rumoured to be specifically in the mind of the Freddy Fazbear's Pizza owner's imagination. It couldn't be.
And it wasn't either.
Chica opened the door to the golden glow, Vampire Hitler's manical laughter sooner diminished when he realised the golden glow was in fact the sunshine, and with a farty noise like a rapidly deflating balloon he shrivelled and winked out of existence.
Not having seen sunlight for thirty years caused the robotics in Chica to malfunction and with a disappointed quack the seven foot duck on steroids shut down for good, a large rugby ball sized egg flopped out of its bum with Game Over written on it almost like the author of this story had gotten fed up.and somehow confused Chica with the Happy Mrs Chicken from Peppa Pig.

Xander was mightily disappointed at such a weak end for his supposedly adventurous story and also thought that the approaching four people, conveniently his mum and three Sisters, carrying all of his favourite treats and eats was a really really shoddy and unimaginative way to end this tale.

The End

5) What's your least favourite food?

Herring roe. It's like fish poo or something, it's evil and looks like fat slugs, and I highly recommend not having them fried on toast and scraping them off the toast and using the same slice of toast to cover with strawberry jam and then eating it. I literally puked my stomach out of my mouth, it was hanging by little tubey things and swinging about like an upside-down gore balloon.

6) What's your favourite mode of transport?

My legs, or anything that I have to use myself to propel.

7) What's your favourite game?

I've never been much of a gamer, of any kind, back in the dusty old days of my first computer console, Sega Megadrive I used to love Sonic The Hedgehog, Lemmings, Worms, Theme Hospital, and the original 2D GTA games.
Board games are boring but I don't mind Scrabble or Monopoly, but I hate, hate, hate these Special Edition versions where they have to just ruin everything.

8) Who's your arch enemy?

I don't have one. It's a much easier and less stressful life not to hate people. Someone who is no doubt famous for being all philosophical and stuff said something sort of along the lines of 'forgive your enemies, so... don't get constipation...' or something, better ask your mum as I've forgotten but she's like the Queen of the inspirational quotes on Facebook.

9) What's your funniest moment in life?

It's hard to think off the top of my head, but one that springs to my mind was when I was at a wedding and I was outside talking to my friend when a massive wasp just buzzed over and sat on the top of his ear like it was riding a horse. That kept me laughing for years.

10) What's your funniest slip?

I hate ice. I always slip over and I always do that funny dancey thing where your arms and legs wave about and you try your best to look like you're not bothered. The funniest time I did that was when I sprained my wrist and had a month off work :-D I had a pink glittery plaster caste and everything!

11) What's the worst thing that ever happened to you?

Death of a loved one most probably. It doesn't matter what your beliefs are, whether you believe in God, nothing, or a gigantic aubergine called Geoff, nothing prepares you for that. But it does make you tougher and focus on just the positive things about that person and it's important to keep on carrying on as, no matter what you believe in, people live on in other people. Look at people like Jesus and Elvis Presley, they died ages ago but are still being spoken about.

12) Would you rather be stupid and immortal or be smart and live to a normal age?

As long as my stupidity didn't get me incarcerated or anything then I'd definitely opt for stupid and immortality, I'm halfway there already.

13) Would you rather save an African child from starvation or have a lightsaber?

Would it be a genuine lightsaber?  As in would it be like how they are portrayed in the films? Would it come with a charger and carry case? Would I get a choice of colours?
Where saving the kid is concerned what would I have to do, like chuck it a cheeseburger or like adopt it and house it and stuff? 

I'll take the lightsaber.

14) Would you rather jump into water and drown or jump into lava?

Without a doubt the lava option. I'm sure it would be quicker even though I can't swim.

15) Would you rather stop world hunger or have all the money in the world?

If I had all the money in the world wouldn't I be able to stop world hunger? Cheeseburgers for everyone :-D

16) Would you rather pry your fingernail off with a fork or stick a toothpick under your toenail and kick a door?

Definitely the toothpick under the toenail. When it comes down to questions like these you have to pick the quickest option and the less permanent or debilitating outcome. You'd be able to cope better with losing a toenail than a fingernail, unless you can pick your nose  with your feet, in which case you should definitely be on Britain's Got Talent.

17) Would you rather be a jock or a nerd?

A nerd any day of the week.

18) Would you rather discover a cure for cancer and die doing it or not find it and live?

I'm generally selfish so I'll opt for the latter.

19)Would you rather die normally or by suicide?
Suicide, but only if I had one hundred percent guarantee that I would not be able to die in any other way other than by my own hand.

20) Are you pansexual?
No, I have never had sexual desires for any kitchen utensils, no matter how sexy these big copper saucepan sets are.

Saturday, 27 February 2016

Words From Inside My Head

So I've decided to open up the blog to the world 🌍
There will be, no doubt, a hefty old bag of bollocks on here from days long gone,  snippets of ancient unfinished works, maybe even thoughts on becoming a father for the first time.
I may or may not add stuff to this regularly, but as I use this app all the time for writing (obviously leaving all the good stuff unpublished) I may update it more than I think.
Today I have been shopping amongst the citizens of this fair town, eaten my body weight in bakery produce and even written a scene for my FUR story.
I don't know what to make of FUR at the moment, my wonderful Editor likes it, says my writing has grown up a lot, (it hasn't, it's just not my usual bums and tits, dicks and clits malarkey- it isn't necessary for this particular story) I don't know whether this will be a novel, novella or used purely for toilet paper, the story has a lot to say and I am merely the catalyst to convert it to paper... Like always I'm just going to write what comes from my mind and see what unfolds.

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

Zeebeebies part 8

The first blow caught Sonny Tumble in the centre of his forehead. He growled and spat another mouthful of Grandad's duffel coat out. It was enough of a distraction for Grandad to slip out of Sonny's grasp. Cowering behind his grandson he said, “go on the boy,hit him harder!"
Mr Tumble swung the conker round above his head like a slingshot,his tongue sticking oit the side of his mouth comically. “uh oh."
“what's wrong Mr Tumble?" Anna asked as Mr Tumble looked sad.
“ive lost the conker." he held the string up and pulled a sad face.
Grandad was already slowly running towards his garden shed on the spotty lawn. He moved surprisingly swiftly for a pensioner,leaping over a folded garden chair and shutting himself in the little wooden hut.
Mr Tumble screamed high pitched as Sonny snapped his teeth at him and ran to join his grandad in the shed.
The door wouldn't open,Grandad had locked it. Mr Tumble knocked repeatedly on the door crying loudly. “Grandad Grandad let me in!"
Sonny staggered across the lawn, fingers clawing at Mr Tumble prematurely as if he had no perception of distance.
;“ Mr Tumble Mr Tumble!" shouted Anna, “You have to do something."
Mr Tumble eyed the salivating hungry snapping teeth of Sonny Tumble and picked up the only thing to hand,the collapsible garden chair.
“Now's not the time for sitting down Mr Tumble!" Anna shrieked as Sonny got closer and closer.
Mr Tumble rolled his eyes and tutted. He shoved the folded chair's wooden stand towards Sonny's face and laughed as Sonny clamped his teeth down. For a few seconds Sonny seemed confused and then outraged when he realised he couldn't get his teeth out of the chair. He thrashed himself around furiously trying to pull the chair out of his mouth almost knocking Mr Tumble over in the process.
As Sonny stumbled past Mr Tumble he booted him in the backside and waved as Sonny wandered towards the edge of the garden. Beside the garden was a lake and as Sonny reached the  bank he fell,dislodged the chair and went headfirst into the water.
Mr Tumble cheered, “woo hoo!"
“mr Tumble," Anna said as the sound of splashing ceased and growling commenced. “Sonny's back."
Soaked through,green with algae,missing his two front teeth,Sonny looked angrier than ever and started towards the meat he craved. Mr Tumble screamed and was about to bang on the shed door when from out of the shed came the sound of a motor starting up.
Mr Tumble frowned, “What's that noise?"
“its Grandad Tumble," said Anna gleefully, “he's got a chainsaw and his going to make Zombie Tumble dead."
“Stand back!" shouted a voice from the shed and Mr Tumble leapt out of the way as Grandad Tumble kicked the door open revving the motor of the thing in his hands. It wasn't a chainsaw,it was a leaf blower. He thrust the cylindrical blower forwards towards Sonny and shouted to his grandson “Get to the boat."
Mr Tumble sidestepped Sonny as Grandad shoved the blower into his face,and ran to the water's edge to the little row boat that floated there.
As the air rushed into Sonny's face his stomach began to balloon lie something out of a cartoon,the buttons on his shirt pinged off in every direction as his belly extended. Grandad pushed him towards the boat and called to his grandson. “Use the oars,the boy,the oars!"
Mr Tumble thrust the oars into the river and started to row frantically away.
“no,I meant to hit him with!" Grandad shouted as Sonny snatched the leaf blower off him and threw it away with inhuman strength. Grandad kicked Sonny's bloated belly and ignoring the massive fart that erupted out of him,ran towards the water. Luckily for Grandad Mr Tumble wasn't as mature,and upon hearing the fantastical flatulence was rolling on his back laughing. Grandad dived headfirst into the boat. By the time Mr Tumble had recovered from the fart noise Grandad was rowing as fast ss he could muttering something about rowing for Cambridge.
Sonny paid no attention to the water and just stepped into the water and vanished. A few bubbles popped up to the surface and then nothing. The two Tumbles in the boat hugged each other and cheered triumphantly.
“ well done Grandad Tumble and Mr Tumble." Anna said but not in a congratulatory manner.
“what's wrong?" asked Mr Tumble worriedly.
Anna was silent for a few moments. “Mr Tumble Sonny's in the water."
Mr Tumble laughed and made a pop pop goldfish face. “yes,I know."
“The water is a reservoir Mr Tumble." Anna said calmly.
Realisation dawned on Grandad's face but Mr Tumble just shrugged.
The reservoir provided drinking water for the whole of CBeebiesland!

Sunday, 26 August 2012

ZeeBeeBees 7

Sonny Tumble clutched his stomach and spat out his lollipop in Grandad Tumble's proffered hankie.
''This is how it begins!'' Anna warned.
Sonny was looking extremely peaky. Mr Tumble picked up the massive conker Sonny had dropped and started swinging it round by it's string,completely oblivious to Sonny.
Sonny didn't feel very well at all. ''i feel poorly'' he said pouting.
Grandad Tumble gently tugged at Mr Tumble's shirt sleeve and pulled him into the hallway. Together they watched as Sonny bent double and clutched his stomach.
''Come on The Boy,'' Grandad whispered to the conker-twirling Mr Tumble,''let's get out of here.''
''WAIT!'' Demanded Anna. ''you can't leave him,he may spread the infection!''
''urgh!'' said Mr Tumble pulling a disgusted face.''well what do we do?''
Sonny collapsed to the floor face down and started shaking violently before making a sickly choking noise and finally becoming still.
''You must either seperate his brain stem from his body or destroy his brain.'' Anna instructed.
Grandad gasped in horror.
Mr Tumble screwed his face up, ''destroy his brain?''
''Yes Mr Tumble,destroy his brain.'' Anna confirmed.
'Go on The Boy,break his head.'' Grandad patted Mr Tumble on the shoulder and gently shoved him towards the two corpses on the floor.
For a few moments Mr Tumble stood rooted to the spot unsure what to do,then Sonny slowly began to get up. Mr Tumble squealed and ran back to Grandad Tumble. They trembled with terror and hid their faces in their hands.
Sonny Tumble turned in jolts and starts like something from a video played on a slow computer. As he faced them they noticed a dramatic transformation had taken place. Sonny's eyes were totally red and he snapped his mouth open and growled like an angry dog.

Grandad screamed and ran as fast as his old legs could carry him,Mr Tumble follwed suit.
''Wait!'' Screamed Anna as the Tumbles bolted for the front door and were busy fighting to get out. Grandad pointed over Mr Tumble's shoulder, ''look,there's Cliff Tumble!''
Mr Tumble momentarily forgot the danger he was in and turned to look for his favourite singer with a beaming grin, ''Where?''
Taking this opportunity Grandad fumbled at the latch on the front door.
Sonny staggered up the hallway snarling and dribbling dark red blood from his mouth.
''Eyyy!'' Yelled Mr Tumble when he realised Grandad had duped him and yanked Grandad's flatcap down over his eyes and grabbed the waistband of Grandad's long-johns. Mr Tumble pulled upwards and gave Grandad a wedgie that almost drew blood.
Mr Tumble was out of the door before Grandad knew what had happened and raced down the path and into the garden.
Grandad screamed when he felt his duffel coat snagged in Sonny's fingers. ''Help me!''
Mr Tumble stopped running and turned back to Grandad.
Sonny was behind Grandad biting his shoulder. Sonny spat out a chunk of Grandad's coat and lunged for him again.
Mr Tumble had to do something.
''Do something Mr Tumble! You MUST help Grandad Tumble!'' Ordered Anna hysterically inside his head.
Mr Tumble thought about what Anna and Grandad had said, ''Destroy his brain. Break his head!''
Mr Tumble closed his eyes and imagined he was his favourite wrestler Rumble Tumble. He rolled his shirt sleeves up and noticed he still had Sonny's conker in his hand. It really was a big one.
''Ah ha!'' Said Mr Tumble and pointed a finger in the idea as the imaginary lightbulb of an idea flashed above his head. Swinging the conker on it's string like a slingshot he ran towards Grandad and Sonny shouting the war cry, ''Anyone for conkers?!''

Thursday, 23 August 2012

ZeeBeeBees 6

The Voice is acting strange,thought Mr Tumble as his scratched his head. Ever since he had found the poorly man in the 'other' kitchen the Voice,the child's voice that only he could hear,the Voice that gave him all instruction sounded ill. The Voice's name was Anna.
Mr Tumble looked worried and did not know what to do. ''Anna,what should I do?''
He heard someone enter the house and turned to see an elderly man who looked like an older version of Mr Tumble whistling his way up the hallway. He wore a flat cap and a brown duffel coat,it was Grandad Tumble.
Grandad Tumble's jaw fell open in shock and horror at the sight of the dead scientist. ''what have you done The Boy?!''
Mr Tumble started crying,big tears pouring out of his eyes, ''I've not done anything. I found this man and he looks very poorly. Should we call a doctor?''
Grandad looked at the man lying on the floor,an expression of sheer agony on his very dead face. The front of the man's top half was covered with lumpy blood vomit. ''I think it's a bit late for a doctor The Boy!''Grandad scratched his chin and thought long and hard. ''Have you asked Anna?''
''Anna?!''Mr Tumble exclaimed,''You can hear Anna too?!''
''Of course I can silly boy!'' Grandad scolded him before looking towards the ceiling towards an invisible entity. ''Anna?''
At first only silence came from the Voice called Anna but then a soft coughing came into their heads. ''Aaaaaahurgh!''
Mr and Grandad Tumble jumped with fear. ''what on earth's wrong?'' Grandad asked.
''Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiins!'' Screamed Anna in a surprisingly gutteral voice for a little girl.
''Brains?'' Asked Mr Tumble obviously perplexed by the voice in his,and Grandad Tumble's heads.
More coughing and spluttering from Anna.
Turning to Grandad Mr Tumble said, ''do you think Anna needs a doctor too?''
Grandad considered this for a few moments,a look of serious consideration upon his face. ''no,The Boy,we can't get a doctor for a disembodied voice that only a select few of us Tumbles can hear. People wouldn't believe that we weren't clinically insane. They wouldn't believe me when I said that Anna had been in our heads for generations of Tumbles and that without Her guidence and advice us Tumbles would stumble and fall into the depths of the Abyss of madness.''
Mr Tumble started giggling,then held his belly and guffawed loudly.
''What?! What's so funny?!'' Grandad asked with an air of annoyance.
''Tumbles stumble. Stumbles Tumbles. Stumbling Tumbles. That's funny. That made me laugh!'' Mr Tumble laughed some more.
Grandad Tumble was about to slap his grandson round the head when something stopped him mid-whack. Anna spoke again.
''Tumbles,your attention please!'' she sounded back to normal again.
Grandad and Mr Tumble stood bolt upright,Grandad saluted.
''What we have here is a situation. This man is dead!''
''DEAD!'' The Tumbles shouted in unison.
''Dead.'' Anna replied. ''but there is a big big problem.'' She paused. ''This man WAS very ill and he was and still is contagious!''
''Cunt ages?'' Mr Tumble asked frowning. Grandad slapped him round the head,'' contagious,means you could catch something off him!''
''urgh!'' Mr Tumble said taking a step back from the body.
''It's okay,'' Anna reassured them.''This man came from another dimension. In His dimension the infection that he contracted was airborne and  contagious to everyone,but when he came here it mutated.''
Grandad looked concerned,Mr Tumble played with his bow tie.
Anna continued,''Now it will only affect children. I know this because I caught it.''
''You've caught it?! Oh no!'' Cried Grandad Tumble.
''Urgh!'' said Mr Tumble and ducked away for some reason.
''Yes Grandad Tumble. But don't worry. I am a disembodied voice in your heads,it didn't affect me tha same as it would a 'real' child. So we need to dispose of this body before any child comes into contact with it.''
Grandad breathed a sigh of relief. ''well that gives us plenty of time.''
Suddenly the doorbell rang and the front door opened.
Mr Tumble said, ''uh oh.''
Grandad looked at Mr Tumble. Mr Tumble looked at Grandad. Standing between them stood a smaller replica of the too of them,he wore the shorts and a tie shirt and blazer of a school uniform,had a lollipop in one hand and a conker on a piece of string in the other. A brightly coloured badge with '6 today' was fixed to his jacket. It was Sonny Tumble.
''Who the FUCK invited him?!'' screamed Anna.
Mr Tumble started crying.
The little boy Tumble dropped his lollipop on to the vomit on the dead body's chest,picked it up wiped it on his shirt and popped it back in his mouth.
Grandad gulped down some of his own bile that had risen in the back of his throat.
Little boy Tumble waggled his eyebrows at the older two,''Anyone for conkers?''

Sunday, 19 August 2012

ZeeBeeBees 5

Bob must have fallen or passed out or something as one minute he was standing face to face with an actual zombie, then he was face to face with his kitchen floor. Blood splattered on the white tiles before his eyes. Bob's lung's felt heavy and on fire. A nasty hacking cough shook his body and he knew that he had contracted whatever had infected the people where he just was. He pushed himself to his knees and stared at the Coolerwave as if it would solve his problems. Typical,he thought as he struggled to his feet,i create the most amazing thing ever to happen in science history and now i'm going to die.
His vison blurred as he staggered to the kitchen doorway. After taking just one step his legs gave way and he fell onto the threshold of his hallway. Breathing became difficult and his body started shaking. Before his vision went he could see someone looking down at him with messy blonde hair and really crap half arsed clown make-up on. Bob felt as though his insides had liquidized themselves and wanted to vacate his body. Just before Bob's eyes rolled back and burst in his head the clown man smiled a childishly innocent smile at him and raised his hand palm outward to him and to his surprise began to sing.
''Hello hello,how are you?, hello hello,it's good to see you......''

ZeeBeeBees 4

Bob slammed his front door and bolted all the bolts and locked all the locks. Within seconds there was the sound of fingernails scratching the wood. It sounded like the girl had brought some friends too.
Bob ran to the kitchen smacked the switch on the kettle and stood anxiously waiting for it to boil. He keyed in five seconds on the Coolerwave.
All Hell was breaking loose outside of his kitchen window. People were getting ill, collapsing and then attacking other people. He wasn't stupid,he knew perfectly well this was a zombie apocalypse dimension.

The kettle boiled,he poured the water into the microwavable dish,stuck it in the Coolerwave,shut the door and pressed 'ten seconds. Start.'
'What? Shit!' He cursed realising he had already pressed five previously.
The 'off' button still didn't work.
His front door smashed inwards and he could hear growling zombies coming towards the kitchen.
Fingers snatching at the kitchen door handle.
Bob held the door shut as best he could but it was too hard.
The door handle was ripped from his hands and he stood face to face with the girl zombie.