(This is a flash story – a story written in 15 minutes on a train to Wales)
Want to know how I ended up in Hell? It was Billy’s stag night and so far a total disaster. Because of Billy’s best friend Bobby, we were sitting at a raw food restaurant in London – a raw food restaurant that had run out of most vegetables. I had a plate of “spaghetti” in front of me. Spaghetti made from shaved zucchini. Cold spaghetti. Spaghetti covered in tomato sauce consisting entirely of squashed cold tomato. “Don’t worry” whispered Billy, somehow picking up on my abject misery. “Wait until the girls arrive”.
Oh yes. That would be something to look forward to. Because Billy hadn’t been able to organise a stripper, he had somehow persuaded a troupe of girl scouts to come in and do some miming to a Spice Girls track during the meal. I think he had promised them some special badges or something. I listlessly twirled the spaghetti around my fork.
Abruptly there was a commotion from the front door of the restaurant. “Oh God” I thought, “it’s the girl guides”. I looked up, and instead saw my nemesis walking in the front door, an attractive girl on his arm.
Kevin and I had been rivals ever since chess club in school. Ever since I had lead with white pawn to queen 4, and he had responded with the Sicilian defence. The Sicilian! In my heart I knew he had mocked me ever since. And now here I was at a table with a bunch of geeks, about to be serenaded by a girl guide troupe, and here was Kevin – walking past the table with an attractive blonde, no doubt with an expensive sports car parked outside. Kevin glanced down as he passed the table and saw me. His eyes widened in surprise. “Brett” he said, stopping. “What a surprise”. “Kev” I said, nodding at him, “it’s been a long time”.
Suddenly there was a crash at the front door. Everyone turned to stare. “Zombie” I thought. Yup, rotting flesh, shambling gait, there was definitely a small group of zombies staggering into the restaurant. Kevin and I looked at each other and nodded in perfect accord. He grabbed a chair and smashed it against the table. I grabbed a carving knife in one hand and Kevin tossed me one of the chair legs. Ichor and chunks of rotting flesh flew across the restaurant as we set to work dispatching the zombies.
And that’s how I ended up here in Hell. I mean, how was I to know that the resurrection had started?