Archive for October, 2009

Episode 1: The Munchies

As she walks into the store the redhead turns around and flips them off.

“If you want all that shit come get it your fucking self, I am starving. Hello, I was locked in a fucking limo with my dead pimp for two fucking days.”

“I guess she didn’t like Busch… Beer,” Darren Laughs giggling.

“Oh, very clever,” Says the brunette following her into the store.

“Joey, I bet you the pimp’s got a cigar! I’ll check his coat, you check the ashtray,” Darren says.

“Or we could just go into the store and get a fucking cigar in there.  Along with some fucking beer.  How bout that?” joey asks.

“You never know what you’d find in a pimp’s coat,” Darren says rifling the pimp.

“Prolly a case of the clap, you dumb fucker,” Joey says walking towards the store.

“Hey dude, I found a .38 !! look at that! but its empty..  useless bastard, but its nickel-plated and pearl-handled! Kinda purdy,” Darren says.

“Hey Joey! Wait! Check this out he had more crack in his pocket then he did in the back of that fucking limo!” Darren yells holding a bag of white rocks

“Bingo!” Darren yells in triumph holding up a pair of brass knuckles

“Are you going to come help me carry some fucking beer dude?” Joey asks as he pauses at the doors of the store.

“Ok lemme pop the trunk on this bitch,” Darren says fumbling inside the limo for a second.

They walk into the store where they find the two women sharing a bag of chips and eating from an open can of beef stew.

“Hey what are your names anyway? I’m Joey and this here is my friend Darren,” Joey says to them.

The redhead looks up with her mouth full, holds a finger for a second and then says “Candy.”

The brunette speaks with her mouth full and says “Chevelle.”

“Wait your named after my first car I ever had?” Joey asks.

She nods in reply around another mouth full of Dinty Moore.

“My parents were what you would call flat-trackers,” Chevelle says.

“Flat Trackers? Thats for motorcycles ya know racing in a dirt circle with Harley’s and Husqvarna’s,” Darren says.

“Yeah my daddy raced them, but he also tinkered around with shitty old cars hence my name,” Chevelle replies.

“Hey you calling my first car shitty? Well, ok to be honest it did break down quite a bit.  I loved that fucking car though,” Joey says.

“Oh yeah they are the regular white-trash Ferrari’s,” Chevelle replies.

Joey reaches behind the counter and grabs a handful of shopping bags.  Tucking them under his arm he snaps one open with a flick of his wrist and walks towards the beer cooler humming a little song.

“What the fuck do you need a bag fer beer for?” Darren asks yanking open the cooler doors and withdrawing two twelve packs of Busch.

“Yeah but these bottles of Mad Dog don’t come with a handy carry handle dick,” Joey says stuffing clinking bottles of 20/20 into a bag.

The door beside the beer cooler opens suddenly and a large fat-man covered in grease with a name-tag that says “Cleetus” storms out with a huge red monkey-wrench.

“Ya’ll get away from my store! We ain’t open tuday!” Cleetus bellows

Suddenly an empty can of Dinty-Moore pings off his sweat covered head. Cleetus rears back gripping the wrench with both hands, looking for someone to swing at.

“Fuck you dick! You came out there and laughed at us stuck in that limo, was no sense in jerking off like that we didn’t wanna see your pathetic kiddie-cock. You should have let us out when you had the chance!” Candy screams

She charges at him with gleaming eyes and two cans of stew. A full can of stew nails him in the face and he staggers back against the freezer door.

“Fuck you bitches!” Cleetus screams back, trying to swing the wrench at them as they tackle him to the ground.

“This is better than baby-oil night at Stinky-Pete’s,” Darren yells.

The cans of stew rise and fall, over and over with piston-like precision. Screams turn to grunts and then to panted pleas and then to nothing as blood and gravy splatter and drip from the thick metal freezer door.

The sound of a Busch can opening breaks them from their panting efforts to kill what is already dead.  They rise dripping with gore and gravy as Darren hands them a can of beer each.

“Well ladies, I gotta say were going to have to hose you the fuck off before you  get in the limo,” Joey says.

“Fuck that guy!” Candy exclaims kicking the corpse

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Episode 0: The flash

Joey and Darren pulled their beat-up pickup into the gas station and parked by the pump. The engine shuddered and died with a metallic clank. To their left was a stretch limo with what looked like a dead man in a fur coat hanging out of the drivers-side window.

“Dude, I think that guy you ran over back there left his fucking forearm in the radiator,” Darren says, looking down at the steaming hood.

“I ain’t walking all the way back to New Orleans man, see if that limo has the keys in there.”

Stepping over to the 1973 Cadillac limo, Darren peeks over the dead man’s shoulder.

“Yeah, there are some keys in there. Help me pull this dead pimp-looking fucker outta here!”

Getting out of the truck, Joey grabs their shotguns and leans them against the limo. They each grab a shoulder and yank the corpse out of the window. The body falls to the parking lot with a sickening thump, its throat cut ear to ear.

From the back of the limo, a weak thumping noise could be heard. Joey walks to the back door and looks through the glass. There are two very skinny girls weakly pounding their fists against the sunroof.

Joey opens the door. The two women fell out on the ground.

“What the hell are you two bitches doing hiding in a limo with a dead pimp hanging on the fucking door?”

“Randy never unlocked the doors when we stopped and got his fool throat cut,” The redheaded girl says “Do you have any water?”

“Here, have a sip of this Busch,” Darren says, pulling a tall-boy from the cargo pocket of his pants.

The girls both grab at the can, The brunette pulls the tab and they both share the beer until it is gone.

“What the hell is going on?” Darren asks. “We have seen more dead bodies on the road then there are flies in an outhouse.”

“Where the hell have you two been? The fucking world ended a month ago. Goddamn fire from the sky fell down and destroyed everything.”

“We’ve been hunting out in the swamp, ya know?” Joey says. “Gators and any birds we happen to see.”

“We did seen us a flash, but we thought one of the refineries blew up. This ain’t the first time that’s happened.” Darren mumbles.

“You girls got any weed? Fucking Darren bogarted the last roach couple days ago.”

“Randy keeps a big pile of buds in the humidor on his coffee table in the French quarter,” The brunette says.

“Right on. Let’s go!” Joey yells.

“Hang on a sec,” the redhead says, walking toward the store. “Let me go inside and get some chips or something.”

“Get me a cigar, and get Joey a pouch of Red-Man!” Darren calls after her.

“And get some Zig-Zags!”

Two Rednecks surviving after the apocalypse..

This is the continuing story of two rednecks who discovered upon returning from their latest hunting trip that they missed the apocalypse, so now they must survive on a mostly dead earth.

(All content on this site is (c) Victor Mongaras & T. Patrick Rooney)

Hello world!

“Hicks in the Apocalypse”  by Victor Mongaras and T. Patrick Rooney

This all started as a flash fiction piece we wrote for a contest run by Permuted press at the Horror Realm Convention.  We had such a good time writing it that we decided to see what happens next and share it with you folks along the way.

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