'Out Of Gas'
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
The voices echo through the fog, ghostly and menacing. A few unlucky townpeople, out too late, run screaming from the sound. One slams into ita, who grabs him by the collar.
"What's going on here?"
He stares at her, wild-eyed. "Horrible... so horrible..."
"What?"
"Smurfs..." He runs. Th voices can still be heard-- in fact, they're getting louder.
"La la la la la la, la la la la la..."
Cat's claws dig through the wool of my cloak and into the flesh of my shoulder. I turn my head and stare into gold-green eyes huge with aprehension. And then I hear it, too.
"La la la la la la la, la la la la la..."
Brian sits bolt upright in bed, scanning the room with wild eyes.
"Are you humming?" His voice is demanding, accusatory.
"Wha?" I'm still more than half asleep.
"Can you hear that? Is it just me? Am I picking up television stations in my fillings again?"
I don't know what he means. Then I listen hard. I can hear it.
"La la la la la la, la la la la la."
What the hell is going on?
Hector is howling under the bed, his writhing causing the frame to jump and rattle. I look up from Yrgwrath's Demon Colloquialisms From the Ungulant Invasion to The Porwefarang Uprising and cock my head.
"What the thousand devils of Hedrogoth is that noise?"
Hector growls and burbles. "Make it stop. Please make it stop..."
"What is it?"
"God they're so smarmy...and cute...where's the kitty? Maybe the kitty can finally eat them..."
Hector has clearly gone insane. Kitty? Smarmy? What?
"Azrael..." he pleads. Now he's asking for the Angel of Death? Well, with this noise, I almost can't blame him.
I put down the grimoire and gather my overcoat and staff. "I'm going out," I tell him. "I may be some time."
See now, that's so much more comfortable, back in my own bubble. The sky looks so blue through my window, and there's a melody drifting through the air. Except that it seems a very even, measured blue. And also it seems to be moving. That can't be normal.
Oh, no, not Smurfs! They ran me out of the last town I went to; I chose Sang Sacre because I thought the porn would keep them out. They've got a natural immunity to it.That's why they spend their days on hillsides picking flowers.
Uh oh. erika brought the Smurfs with her.
The odd "la la la la la la" triggers something in the back of my mind. Almost unconsiously I start singing "Blue people make me sick. Who knows what makes them tick....."
Smurfs.
Time to head home and get the shotgun. Dibs on Smurfette.
(Off topic, but did anyone watch 'TV Funhouse' on SNL this week? They had Smurfette as Anna Nicole Smith, and, Jebus wept, that was some funny shit. Inspired my new tagline.)
