It is somewhat disconcerting the first time someone still living walks through you. It’s also a good clue that you’re dead, dead, dead. That, and looking down at your body with a big ass hole where your forehead used to be, and seeing the shredded remains of your brain.
Getting walked through was my fault, really. I was too busy staring at the mush inside my head to notice Freddy when he walked up, his gun still smoking, and looked down at my dead body. Lenny stood a few yards behind him, “See if he’s got anything in his wallet.”
Freddy laughed, and put his gun back in its holster, under his left arm. He straightened out his jacket. “Who bought it?” He looked at Lenny. “Who bought the farm?”
Lenny giggled, and pointed at my remains, “He did!”
Freddy grinned at my remains, “You should’ve known better, Billy boy. You should’ve known not to bang Mr. King’s daughter.” He bowed his head. “You had potential, you did. But you crossed a line in the sand, and Mr. King said to me, ‘Freddy, Freddy, Freddy. Make sure Lenny buys the farm tonight.’ And you know I do what Mr. King tells me.”
Lenny giggled again, “Who bought it? Billy bought it!”
The two of them shook their heads, and walked out of my bedroom, leaving me to stare at my dead body, and wonder, “What the heck do I do now?”
I saw the prompt for this week’s #ThursThreads challenge, and this strange idea just kinda popped into my brain cells, so I wrote it. It’s for week 221 of Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.