FOOLS OF DOOMS DAY
A WRITTEN TALE OF ROT TOWN
BOOMS AND SPLATTERS
AN UNDEAD EXTREME SPORT. INVOLVES THE DETONATION OF A NUCLEAR DEVICE FOUND IN THE WASTELANDS SURROUNDING ROT TOWN. UNDEAD WILL CLING TO RUINED BUILDINGS NEAR THE EXPLOSION AND ATTEMPT TO HANG ON AGAINST THE SHOCKWAVE. USUALLY 1 IN 3 PARTICIPANTS OF SHOCK ROCKEN ARE CATASTROPHICALLY DAMAGED. IT IS ONE OF THE FAVORITE PAST TIMES IN ROT TOWN.
There was a blinding flash. The dank red sky flashed white, then faded.
Out in the Rind, the radioactive wasteland that surrounds Rot Town, a mushroom cloud blossomed- another fungus eating the dead world. Tash and Ling were waiting. They had paid good zombie mula to know where the boom would be.
The two zoms were on the tip top of a ruined skyscraper right at the edge of Rot Town. The building was a blasted wreck. The top third was little more than jagged girders spiking from the scalped building, like ribs sticking out of road kill. Tash clung to the top most girder, clinging on like a monkey. Skinny, wiry and spattered in festering sores, Tash resembled a skeleton covered in old flaky papier mache. A pair of baggy pants was belted to its narrow hips by a rope. More tape and glue held the pants together than the original stitches. Duct tape was wrapped around its bare feet and spiked toes. A long stringy rat tail sprouted out the back of its skull like an old dead umbilical cord. Otherwise, it was as bald as a mushroom top.
Just below Tash was Ling, clamped onto a pipe that jutted out of the mangled mess. The zom clung on by its teeth, as tight and secure as a vice. Ling resembled a rotten pear with chewed up pencils sticking out of it- fat head and body, and thin frail arms and legs. A pair of jeans, rotted away to just below its knee, covered its legs. It’s worn out sneakers where more duct tape than shoe. It wore a filthy white tank top, its bloated paunch hanging free out the bottom. Sodden rags covered its spindly arms, sticking to the rotted out flesh in an attempt to hold them together. Ling’s wasted arms weren't going to handle what was coming. Jaws and teeth had a much better chance.
The two ghouls hung to their perches and watched the rolling shockwave come closer and closer.
“Ohh shit, this is goin’ to be brutal! Clinch them yappers, Ling!”
Ling grunted unintelligible over its mouthful of pipe in response. Dotting the neighboring ruins, dozens of other ghouls clung on to their perches. There howls and shrieks mixed with the growing rumble of the shock wave. The sounds of nightmares, the music of Armageddon, the rock n roll of Rot Town. Somewhere a ghoul started yelling, “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4…”
The shockwave hit. The ghoul sucked at counting down. It struck like a colossal bitch slap; an enormous mass of pressurized wind and heat. The buildings groaned under the impact. Anything that was loose or weak blew away as the buildings quaked. Tash and Ling thrashed about like flags in a gale. On neighboring buildings, undead were torn free and tumbled away into the storm. Punk asses! Only chumps got blown out while Shock Rocken.
Tash howled at the top of its rotten lungs. Black sputum blasted out of its open mouth to be carried away in the blast wave. An eye suddenly popped loose. It bounced around on its chest, connected by a nerve, like a ball on a string. Somewhere nearby a ruined building gave way under the blast and blew apart in a mass of blowing dust and debris. Everything behind it was pummeled by its fall. Then, the top of another building tore free. It flew through the air like a giant cardboard box before smashing apart on the buildings behind it. Tash got a glimpse at the zoms clamped to it like roaches. Even from its perch it could see the mad grins on their faces. Lucky assholes. That was an epic ride.
After the initial force the shock wave quickly pooped out. As the forces weakened, Tash’s body collapsed on the girder. A final gust whipped Tash’s rat tail, and then it was all over. On the
surrounding ruins undead howled in adrenaline fueled glee. Shock Rocken was a sport that only the most badass ghouls did and if you were still clinging in the end then you were straight up the shit.
“Fuck yeah bitches!” howled Tash, thrusting its middle finger at the mushroom cloud. “And Fuck you boomer! Ya can’t scrape off old Tash!” It grabbed its dangling eyeball and popped it back into its head then looked down at Ling. A look of surprise came to Tash’s face, then it began to cackle. Soon it was howling in hysterical glee. Beneath Tash, Ling glared back. It remained clamped to the pipe by its teeth. It tried to say something, but all that came out was muffled hissing.
Ling’s teeth and jaws held out against the shock wave. Ling’s neck didn't. Ling was now just a severed head clamped to the pipe. Tash continued laughing as it shimmied down to its buddy. It grabbed Ling by the ear and yanked. Ling snapped its teeth free.
“Ha ha. Laugh it up, punk! This is obviously a fuckin’ hooot!”
“Ohh, come of dude. It’s kind of funny.” Tash lifted Ling’s severed head so they were eye to eye. “I guess you’re a punk ass, buddy. Couldn't handle a Shock Rock.”
“What?!” Link yield. “I totally hung in there, asshole! You're literally holding the proof of that!”
“Yeah, well I guess you're just a punk ass from the neck down.” Tash tucked Ling’s surly head under its arm and began the long climb down to the streets.
THE FACILITATORS, PROMOTERS AND PROFITEERS OF THE SPORT OF SHOCK ROCKEN. FUSE HUSTLERS HUNT THE RIND FOR UNDETONATED NUKES. ONCE ONE IS FOUND THEY RIG IT UP WITH A TIMED FUSE OR DETONATOR, THEN RETURN TO THE CITY. FOR A SOLID FEE THEY TIP OFF INTERESTED PARTIES AS TO WHERE AND WHEN THE NUKE WILL GO OFF AND THE BEST PLACES TO GO SHOCK ROCKEN. FUSE HUSTLING IS A LUCRATIVE BUSINESS BUT ALSO ABSURDLY DANGEROUS. IT TAKES A WHOLE LOT OF CRAZY TO BE A FUSE HUSTLER AND A WHOLE LOT OF LUCK TO BE A GOOD ONE.
“I guess that old scab Dooby was for real,” Tash said, hopping down to the street. “I
thought the Doob was full of baloney about the nuke but lone and behold.” Ling remained in sullen silence.
“Stop being a peevish bitch Ling. Shock Rocken’s a dangerous game. It could be worse.”
“Oh yeah? Like how?”
“Well, you could be that dude.”
Tash lifted up Ling’s head so it could see a zom impaled on some nearby ruins. It had landed ass first onto a long piece of piping that jutted from a pile of debris. The pipe had gone up its ass, through its body, and out its mouth. The impaled zom looked down at Tash and Ling.
“Hey there buds, can ya give me a hand here?” it slurred over the pipe in its mouth.
“Should have hung on tighter, punk ass.” Tash said and walked away.
Tash might have been a dick, but it was a good friend in the end. Tash and Ling had been buds since before the Vile Genesis, back when they were clean meat human. As a matter of fact, when Tash turned ghoul it was the one who bit and infected Ling. You can’t put a price on friendship like that. And for 22 years of undeath they had rolled together in the gooey streets of Rot Town, enduring their undead existence and having a good time now and then.
For three hours Tash carried around Ling’s severed head, looking for its body. They found three other splattered zoms that couldn't hold on, a good looking zom lady who was not interested in anything they had to say, and a fascinating mutant slug thing that Tash had to examine and eat before they found Ling’s below the neck parts. For a body that had fallen over a dozen stories in a nuclear blast, it wasn't too bad. It had bounced off or through a building or two and had landed in a pool of gelatinous toxic goo which had cushioned its fall somewhat. Its right arm had been torn out at the shoulder and lost, and the other arm was a mangled mess a few feet away. Something sharp had ripped open the belly and Lings guts were festooned around the surrounding ruins, but the spine and hip were intact, and the legs were ok. With some work the busted arm could be nailed back into shape. And a good knitter could sew the arm and head back on and tie up the stomach gash. All in all, not too bad.
“Yeah, not too bad,” complained Ling, “I only got one arm now. And of course my right arm’s gone- I’m right handed, damn it!”
“You're just going to have to learn how to beat off with your left,” Tash said as it examined Ling’s mangled body. “Now stop being a butt hurt cry baby before I punt your ugly mug into a ditch.” It scratched its head as it looked into the hollow wet hole within Ling’s gutted belly. “I hope you know a good knitter because this shit is way beyond me.”
“Yeah,” said Ling’s head, “An old husk named Lady Glue. You can get ran over by a lawnmower and Lady Glue can sew you backup good as new. Only problem, the old bat cost some weight in zombie mula.”
Tosh looked down at Ling’s head. “Well I hope you got some mula.”
Ling’s head thought about it for a moment. “Yeah I do! In my pants. You’ll have to grab it. It’s taped up safe and sound.”
Tash started batting around Ling’s body looking for the mula.
“No no, not there. Down south. Right between my ball sack and taint. You know, the choad. I got about a pound taped in there for safekeeping.”
Tash looked at Ling’s head, then at Ling’s mangled body. It sighed, then bent down and started poking around where it was told. “I don’t see any zombie mula here!” complained Tosh after a halfhearted search.
“What? It better be there. Look closer. Check underneath things and inside stuff.”
Tash squinted into crevices and under loose stuff. “I don’t see no mula!” It yelled in disgust.
It then slowly stood up and looked angrily at Lings head. “Wait a second, there was never any zombie mula taped to your choad!”
Ling’s head managed to look innocent for about a half second before it exploded into laughter.
“You punk ass, low down, degenerate fuck!” yield Tosh.
“I’m the degenerate fuck? You're the one who just fondled my choad.”
Tosh kicked Ling’s head squarely in the face and sent it sailing through the air. Ling laughed the whole way, even as it tumbled across the ground and ended upside down against a barrel of toxic waste. Totally worth it.
“Come on Tosh. I’ll pay you back. You know I’m good for it.” Ling’s head yelled.
Only silence answered. “I’ll even throw in a couple nugs for Z Cigs and a handle of Tox Hooch.”
Tosh walked over to Ling’s head, hunched under the weight of Ling’s body, which it had thrown over its shoulder. Tash grabbed Ling’s head by the ear and held it so they were face to face.
“You best,” Tash said, its voice ominous and threatening. Ling tried to look frightened but then snorted.
Tosh sighed as it tucked Ling’s snickering head under its arm and trudged away into the guts of Rot Town to get its buddy fixed.