ZENNY DREADFUL
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Showgirls and Sea Monsters.

8/7/2014

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Her name was Lola, she was a show girl, and she hated that song. Thankfully two days a week, she killed monsters, which was a healthy outlet for her rage.

The year was 657 SR. It's been over 650 years since the Naysayers lay down arms. Even they couldn't ignore the lack of any traditional weather patterns, so they waved the white flag and admitted the scientists were right. It was all too little too late of course. So the scientists just announced it a New "You made your bed, now we have to live in it!" World and started the calendar again. Now it was the year 657 SR (Scientists Right) and from the depths of the now too warm oceans and seas had risen all matter of life forms, and they were hungry.

Her name was Lola and she volunteered for the United Squishy Killing Corps. Seriously. The world's scientists really didn't care anymore. They called the sea monsters Squishies, and two days a week Lola killed them.

Las Vegas, now being a coastal city, got more than its fair share of Squishies. They sometimes even wandered into the club which meant Lola always kept her L-24-Stardust Vapor Gun handy. She loved her Stardust. Not only was it extremely intimidating to see a cute little red headed showgirl holding four and half pounds of weaponry, but also its namesake was due to the pretty vapor the gun turned a Squishy into.  Lola loved to yell "ZIGGY!" right before the point of impact. It made her laugh manically every time.

She tried to keep a sense of humour about things, she even had yellow feathers painted on the side of her combat helmet, but after having people sing the same song at you since you were twenty, well, things got old.

"Music and passion were always in fashion at the cop-OW!"

"Oh sorry, Felix. Did the butt of my gun hitting the back of your head interrupt you singing the one and only song that I loath with a fiery passion?
My bad. BTW, your turn." Felix grumbled but stood to take over the watch. Lola sat down, back leaning against the wall of The Strip overpass. The once pedestrian walkways between the casinos long since taken over by the Squishy Corps as lookouts. From this point Lola could look up and just see cloudless blue sky, the top of New York New York, pretend the ground wasn't littered with ancient sea monsters and remember that Barry Manilow has been dead for hundreds of years.

It was a nice thought.

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Drive-ins and Spaceships.

4/7/2014

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Rob loved the Drive-in. He loved the potholes when you drove in. He loved having to wind down his window when the windscreen fogged up. He loved how the dinner only gave themselves fifteen minutes between features to make burgers and fries for like thirty patrons. He loved finding popcorn down in-between the seats of his 1982 Red Renault Fuego for days later. And he loved Jenny.

Jenny sold the tickets from the booth at the entry. She was cute, twenty-two years of age, and easily confused by Daylight Savings.

"Rob, gates don't open until 7:30 pm." Jenny firmly spoke from the hole in her booth window. When she was alone she liked to pretend the booth was the cockpit of a spaceship.

Rob knew he was interrupting her spaceship time. "It is 7:30, so please open the gate. I want to get to the hotdogs while they are fresh."

"No, the Daylight Savings saying goes 'Spring back. Fall forward' so it's only 5:30 now."

He leaned out of his car window as far as he could, his nose almost touched the glass of booth, "Actually, Moon of my life, you have that backwards. It's 'Spring forward. Fall back'. Who falls forward anyway?"

"People fall forward down stairs." Jenny winked at him as she grabbed her keys to open the entry gate.

Rob slowly began rolling his Renault forward, and smiled "That they do, my love. That they do."
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Antiheroes, Dinosaurs and Skee Ball.

3/7/2014

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She had a Colt .45 strapped to her left hip, and a tattoo of Salvador Dali on her right, and was a woman not to be toyed with. Her favourite game in the arcade, second to Skee Ball, was the first person shooter 'The Lost World'. The Jurassic Park franchise game was hard to come by now days, but unbeknown to her, this particular arcade was too scared to remove it. When killing Raptors she liked to yell out quips from her favourite Antiheroes. "I aim to misbehave!" and "I'll kill you with my teacup!" were two of the most common.

The dangerous glint in her eye and the cup of crazy in her pocket kept the other arcade patrons a good car length away. No one dared venture near her until Billy walked in that morning. Billy was short and stout, but unlike the teapot, he didn't have a handle on much at all. Reality included. Like his hero Wolverine, he like to chew on cigars, the candy kind of course. He was mocked for it once. That guy now walks with a permanent limp and is scared of pancakes. Billy had made a promise to his mother to never again smoke the real thing, and everyone knows, you never mock a mans word to his mother.

When Billy walked into the arcade and called out to the woman on the Dino killing spree, the room gave one almighty gasp and held its breath. "Yo! Kitty Kitty Bang Bang." he tired to sound like Clint Eastwood. He failed.
Kitty didn't move. She did however whisper under her breath "We have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty!", as she looked at the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex and administered the final kill shot.
Billy tried again."Well, Miss Bang Bang, I heard you don't know how to juggle, or.. don't you have the balls to do it?" He had her there. Kitty couldn't resist a pun. She turned and said "No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery."

She looked at the pimple faced arcade manager quivering behind the counter and gave him the nod. Phil was his name, and much like him, it was of little importance. Phil took a stack of dollar coins from the register and walked towards the back of the building. Pausing only once in order to keep control of his nervous bladder, he did what the Skee Ball machine was asking and inserted coin.

Kitty and Billy were now face to face, an inch between them. With the machines now stocked up with credit, Billy, abreast to Kitty's breasts, in his best Bruce Campbell voice that impressed even Kitty a little bit, said "Game on, bitches!"
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