At eleven hundred hours, my pockets full of assorted religious memorabilia, vials of water and a packet of softmints, I strolled into the police station of the small town of Gillingham. This is the place I claimed as my home for the last six years and now this would be the last year I patrol the streets.
I thought it would only be polite to call in and tell them what I was planning.
Using my mad ninja skills I walked through the door, crawled past the empty desk and entered the police chief’s office.
The chief looked at me over her hornrimmed glasses.
“Yes?” she said, sounding slightly bored.
“Hey Chief.” I said dropping into the chair before her desk.
She placed her papers into a drawer
“Do I know you?”
“Chief. It’s me.” I cried, butter-won’t-melt look at full power.
She looked blank.
“Jancis.” I said slightly begging. So I thought the poor dear’s going a bit doo-lally so I’ll help along.
“I deal with the things the police find too supernatural.”
She blinked a couple of times. I pulled out my highlight of the year.
“I was in the Western Gazette in June” says I. Yes, that seems to have been my brightest moment. So sue me.
You see, a picture of me had appeared on page 67 of the Gazette. It was me, hair slicked back with the blood of the lesser demon Blue Canary who had begun to eat people outside Waitrose. Anyway, I approached it and tore it’s arm off and beat it to death. So I’m grinning like a madman, my left eye is swollen up in its socket and the road behind me is on fire.
The Gazette placed a large cartoon arrow over my left shoulder pointing to the back of an old man. The caption below asked “ARE YOU THIS MAN? IF YOU ARE, YOU LEFT YOUR WALLET OUTSIDE WAITROSE”
Yes, the local paper really doesn’t have anything better to do then help people find their wallets.
Back to the police station.
I tried many reminders of my job which I hoped would jog her mind. These including me wearing a dress to catch a lamia who was eating competitors of the Mrs Gillingham contest, turning a dark wizard (he skinning children) into a parrot, stopping the invasion of wolves during the Mrs Winter contest and driving back the attack of vampires in the middle of the Miss Give Blood contest. I did win something at the last one. The “Most Likely to Ruin a Contest” Prize as I killed all the vampires, completely negating the whole point and if I can’t play along why can’t I just stay home?
The chief sat as I ranted before clearing her throat.
“I DO remember us dealing with a parrot” she said as if talking to a five year old.
Sighing I played my Ace.
“I’m the one who did the EXPERIMENTAL FILM graffiti in the surgery’s carpark.”
At which point, the chief tackled me, shouted “We’ve got him boys” and smashed my head against the wall.
So I was done for, and I quote “wasting police time and being an all round knob”. I was made to pay a twenty pound fine and I’m also banned from talking to any member of the police again. I was warned if they catch me again it would stretch to being any member of the emergency services.
So I decided to go back to being a lone wolf. Police help is overrated so I resorted to hiding in the graveyard and wait for trouble to come to me instead.
“What ya supposed to be?”
I peered over a gravestone to see Spiderman.
“Aren’t you a little short to be a superhero?” I asked, completely reasonably.
He didn’t pull off his mask to tell me he had come to rescue me but just glared as best as one can through a cheep latex mask.
“Ya didn’t answer me. What’s your costume.”
I glanced down at my long coat, dark trouser, dark shirt and trainers.
“I’m the fifth Cylon.”
“Oh yes. There are many copies.”
I leered conspiratorially at him.
“And we have a plan.”
He seemed unimpressed.
“You a pedo?”
I raised one surprised eyebrow.
“Pedos hang around in churchyards.” Spidey said matter of fact.
“No. Necrophiliacs hang around in churchyards.” I said as matter of fact.
I realised what I was calling myself here and decided to win back the fight with a witty comeback.
“Go ask your mommy why her kisses taste so salty.”
Did I say witty? I meant crude. I needed to finish this fast.
“Did you get some candy?” I asked trying not sound too molesty.
He did a small twirl.
“Yeah. This is a shit-hot costume.”
“Goodie-gumdrops.” I said
So I pepper sprayed him and then ate his little Mars bars.
As I munched away I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around slowly.
“You appear to be sitting on my grave.” Moaned a man with no eyes or nose.
“Oh sorry.” I said moving to a bench.
“Happy Halloween” I said.
“Brains” replied the zombie..
“What a polite zombie.” Thought I as I started on the Skittles.
As I sat on the bench I watched the passing parade of cheep costumes and supposedly sexy costumes. For the record I saw twenty seven Playboy bunnies.
There was one moment of excitement when I heard someone say they wanted to suck someone’s blood. Now the penis doesn’t have that much blood in it at the best of times so I don’t think she really was a vampire. I shot her with a crossbow anyway. Then he got all disgruntled that she hadn’t finished so I shot him too.
I wandered down the highstreet for a little while when I spied another zombie. This one was trying to break into the charity shop. Maybe she wanted the knitted sweaters her family had cruelly given to charity? Maybe she just wanted a second hand Agatha Christie. Anyway, it was my job to stop her.
“Excuse me ma’m?”
She let out a small moan I took as “How can I help you young man?”
“I was just wondering are you Chinese, Japanese, Haitian or Mexican?”
A second moan that could be “What a peculiar question. Might I enquire why the intrest?”
“Well they seem to be happy with their ancestors crawling out of their graves. Asian culture has families laying out meals for those who enter their homes!”
“BRAAAAAINS?” she said hopefully.
“Mainly rice I’m afraid.” I had to shrug.
Happy to have an audience I began to talk.
“Mexico has the Day of the Dead which is based on the popular game Grim Fandango. The people of the island of Tahiti call up Baron Samedi in a large festival involving drums and rum. Once done he goes on a mad killing spree and tries to kill James Bond. I suspect things would be quite dull without him. Not that I’m calling them dull, it’s just- No. Bad. That’s my arm. You can’t have it.”
I began to batter at her. Clearly she was a bad bitey kind so I stuck a penknife in her spinal column. As she dropped I began to get to work on removing the head.
Just as I got the head separated from the body I remembered that odd year Halloweens are when the demons and ghouls take a well deserved break from trying to end mankind. How could I have forgotten last year and the hellmouth which had consumed Mere. Not that anyone notices the fact the sheep now have wings and eat each other.
Rolling my eyes at my stupidity I hoisted the dead undead woman and flung her into the river. Sure it would cause pollution and would spread the virus and-Why the fuck DID I throw her in? Oh well. Let the police deal with it.
I walked back to the graveyard. The boy was slowly being dragged down the road by a ball of dark. Sitting back on the bench I admired the town. How was this place going to manage without me and my demonfighting skills? Maybe I would just stay?
I passed a large woman who was coming up to people and shouting in their faces.
“Has anyone seem my son? He’s about eight and dressed like Spiderman.”
“He got taken by a big ball of nothingness.”
She glared at me.
Oh well. Can’t hold back the march of time and all things must change. Hands in my pockets I whistled as the ball caught the woman and began to break her into base chemicals.
You have to love the holidays.
5 years ago