Fixdale's Duty

          Fixdale was a strong and evil man, and he had been fighting beside Gilligan when Gilligan got laserbeamed in the larynx. Gilligan had been one of the Magic-Blooded Princes, and their limbs and body parts were sought-after when they died, for a feast from their fine blood gave the eater devastating powers. So it was Fixdale’s duty as a friend and ally to protect Gilligan’s body from scavengers until the coroner arrived to return the body to the Earth, so his powers could go back to the Dark Lord, Satan, who is so powerful and generous.

           It was a disgusting sight, this Satan-worshiping killer standing in full battle gear on the street corner, with the mangled body of his deceased ally propped up against the apartment building in a pool of its own blood, waiting for the coroner in his fine and exquisite coronation vehicle.

           A young street-urchin with an electric light-saber leg prosthesis hobbled over to the corpse in a hurry and tried to take a bite out of its face.

          “Get outta here, kid!” Fixdale shouted at the hungry youth.

          “I just want a little taste!” the boy cried out. “I’m so weak without my leg!”

          “I’ll give you a leg, thief!” Fixdale said, kicking the boy onto the street with his huge, rippling, warrior’s foot.

           A parade of ducks was crossing the road, and cars politely waited for the cute little ones to catch up to their mother. When they caught the scent of the corpse, with its life-giving blood, they scurried over and started eating it. Fixdale slaughtered them all, his eyes and smiling teeth shining with crazy glee.

           Up the road came a man in a fine, red suit, carrying a briefcase. He walked over to Fixdale and said, “Well, you look like a man who knows a thing or two about blades.”

          “Of course I know about blades!” Fixdale shouted. “May Satan in His wisdom implode my eyeballs if I didn’t!”

          The man opened his briefcase, displaying a sparkling set of stainless steel steak knives. “Then perhaps you’d be interested in these top-of the line blades, which easily slice through even the heartiest of steaks!”

          Fixdale stared with respect at the sharp edges. “These are indeed much finer than any of the silverware in my kitchen. Say, do you sell rubber spatulas?”

          But then he heard a noise, and realized that the salesman had been distracting him from his duty. As he turned around, he saw an old woman eating the corpse of his late friend. She had devoured the entire head.

          “Vile bitch!” He cried. He slew the salesman, with great passion, then raised his weapon towards the cannibal woman. But as he watched, her size grew by ten, and fire issued forth from her eyes, cooking Fixdale instantly. Then she ate the rest of the corpse, and terrorized the city with her powers.

End