I pulled down hard on the trigger-type device (again, apologies for the military terms) of the flamethrower.BWOOSH! I could feel the rush of heat on my face as a huge burst of fire took out a nice little mulberry tree in Guiseppe's yard.
"Uh, sorry," I said as the blackened little tree smoldered. "Hope ya wasn't countin' on winnin' yard of the month."
"Go easy on the trigger, Red!" shouted Guiseppe. "A-squeeze it like you are-a holding a little bird! Otherwise you will-a a-kill us-a both!"
Now, lay-a down a line of-a flame over there. Try to-a separate Rosa from-a the group!"
The zombies was close now, close enough to reach the limits of the range of the flame gun. They was givin' off a green glow that lit up the area all around Guiseppe's place. They was moanin' and I could hear the sickening sound of shufflin' feet and cracklin' bones and such. It was totally gross.
And there was hundreds of 'em, but I couldn't see no Rosa.
"Uh, Guiseppe, I wasn't expectin' this big a party, if you know what I mean..."
"Red! The flame! NOW!" screamed Guiseppe.
I squeezed the trigger on the flamethrower, easy this time, just like the little Italian had told me. The fuel shot out much more controlled-like this time, as I commenced to layin' down the flame line as instructed. The first group of zombies near me flinched at the fire and moved away
from the fire-fence deal I'd created. They looked like cattle that just done run into a corral for the first time.
I even torched a couple just for the hell of it.
"Eat fire ya damned unholy evil rotten stupid mindless undead sons-a-bitch bastards!
Just as I was havin' a grand ol' time fryin' dead gyspies, an evil cackle rang out over the zombie hoard.
"Ha ha ha ha ha! Move forward my children! Walk through the fire and overrun the mortal! He is nothing! Nothing!!"
It was Rosa, being carried by a group of zombies on what looked like a type of throne, 'cept it was made of bones and some type of skin... from where or what I don't want to think about.
"Hell if I'm nothin'! Get a load of this!" I shouted. I grabbed one of them grenades off my belt, pulled the pin, and chucked it into the middle of the group with a high overhand heave with my right hand, while I commenced to spray more flame around with my left. I was like one of them action heroes on the TV programs.
BOOM! The grenade exploded, and I saw zombie body parts get blown off and start to flappin' about. This caused even more pandemonium amongst the undead army. They was now milling about even more confused - looks like Guiseppe's plan was workin' like a charm, 'cept I had no idea where the little feller had gotten off to.
That's when I saw him, hangin' down out a high branch of one of his remaining trees, the necklace extended from both arms, ready to drop it down around Little Rosa's neck as she passed below. She was almost there, just another moment, and it would be done.
This was, uh, perhaps the worst possible time to have the fire department show up. What looked to be a 50 year old fire truck pulled up at the curb in front of Guiseppe's place, sirens blarin'. An old codger in a too-big fire helmet and coat got out of the cab. He looked to be just shy of 90 years old or so.
"Hey Guiseppe, I noticed your place a-burnin' from over the hill!" said the old feller as he did not seem to realize he had pulled into a crazy mob of walking corpses.
"Hey friend! Mind the zombie hoard!" I shouted. "I'll run some interference fer yah with this here flamethrower, so's you can hook up the hose!"
I laid down another little flame fence between the truck and zombies, keepin' 'em off the guy so he could run a hose over to the house.
Little dude had that hose hooked up from the hydrant to the truck to here in what seemed like only a year or two. He was movin' real, real slow. I knew I had to help the feller or was gonna be some zombies lunch right quick, so I ran over to the truck and started pullin' hose.
"C'mon, you old geezer! You're gonna get kilt movin' so damn slow!"
"What you doin' with one of them flame guns?" he asked me. "Them things is unsafe, I tell ya! You are gonna burn the whole damn neighborhood down!"
I was in no mood to get lectured by a damn fireman who was probably older than some of these damn zombies. I figgered I'd put the guy to work to keep him outta my hair.
"The fire is over there, Rip Van Winkle. Stick by me an do your thing," I said as I pointed to the mulberry tree I'd torched earlier.
And that's when my crotch got to itchin' again from the crabbies that damn witch-woman gimme, except this time somethin' fierce, an itch and burn worse 'an any feelin' I ever had, especially around them certain parts. I could barely hold the flamethrower upright, as the urge to scratch on my privates was gettin' mighty powerful. I kinda pumped my knees up and down, tryin' my best to deal with the itchin', and to focus on the task of keepin' them zombies occupied until Guiseppe could drop the necklace. It would only be a moment, only a second or two now...
"Eat some more fire! YEEAAAHH!" I screamed as I roasted some more stinkin' zombie flesh.
What happened next, I ain't real proud of.
The itchin' and burnin' in my swimsuit zone was gettin' real, real bad now. So bad I could hardly see. I needed some relief, like instant relief, and I only saw one way I could see to get rid of the itchin' and the burnin' and the dadblum crabs diggin' in my softer parts was a cool squirt of water.
"Gimme that hose, old timer! I need me a crotch bath!"
I grabbed the hose from the ancient fireman with my left arm, keepin' the flame gun steady in my right. With one swift motion, I jammed the thing down my pants.
AHHHH! Sweet relief.
"You better watch it, friend," said the old timer. "The pressure in them things can really vary - one second yer gettin' a trickle, and the next yer gettin' Niagra Falls..."
The old coot was right. Damn right. What had been a cool stream runnin' down my pant leg suddenly became like one a them jets of water you see comin' out of Hoover Dam in the educational films.
"WOAH!" I shouted. All that pressure started the hose to flippin' about wildly, with me on the end of it. I shot about 15 feet straight up in the air, trailin' a plume of water behind me.
Right then ,Guisseppe was leanin' out of the tree, ready to drop that necklace on Little Rosa all with perfect aim and such. Rosa was directly below him. Would a worked out fine, 'cept I blasted the branch he was hangin' onta with a burst of fire. My trigger finger musta slipped when I was thrashin' about, cause I was shootin' flames all over the place.
Guiseppe dropped the necklace, and it fell with a plunk on Rosa's throne.
"Who would dare to put this gypsy trinket around my neck!" shouted Little Rosa in a powerful ghostly voice. "Grab that man and bring him to me!"
She was pointin' up at Guiseppe in the tree, as he was scramblin' out of it to escape the now alert zombie hoard.
"Shut yer mouth, ya zombie bitch from hell! I'll burn all your undead butts!"
I was tired of screwin' around with this here sorry plan anyway. So I poured it on with the flame gun, goin' full blast, on all the zombies I could see. I peppered the whole damn lot o' them with flame, all while flappin' about on the end of a firehouse.
"TRUCK FU!!!!" I screamed.
I'd wiped out most of the hoard inside 10 minutes or so, and also the firetruck, all Guiseppe's shrubs and various plants around the house, the mailbox shaped like one a them gypsy wagons, a couple more trees and most of Guiseppe's hacienda. I didn't see Guiseppe around, but it was hard to tell with all the burnin' flesh pilin' up.
There was only a small group of undead around Rosa. If you believed that zombies could get an "oh shit!" look on their faces, it pretty much described this group.
"Well, ya done gone and burned the entire place up, includin’ my truck, ya jackass!" said the old fireman. "What in the hell kinda idiot are you?"
Just then, the pressure on the hose let up, and I came crashin’ to the ground.
"The kind of idiot that saved your ass, you old geezer. Now duck!"
In the same motion, I grabbed my last two grenades off my belt, pulled the keys outta 'em with my teeth, and spit the keys onto the ground.
"Now, you sorry walking dead. Get ready to get fragged! This is for Guiseppe!"
I tossed the two grenades into the air, right on top of the group holding Little Rosa up in her throne, then ducked, pulling the old fireman down with me. At the last second, they tried to run, but I'd timed it perfect-like, and the grenades blew up just before they reached the ground.
BOOM! Zombie flesh went flyin'. It took a sec for the smoke to clear, and I stood up with my flame gun ready.
All I could see was Little Rosa, with big holes blown throughout her dead body, somehow still able to stand.
"You fool!" she rasped at me. "I can't be killed by the likes of you! I can only be destroyed by one who loves me, and you've killed him! I'll just raise another army of the undead, and return to ravage the world!!"
She turned away, and started to shuffle off back towards the hill. I just stood there, knowin' there was nuthin' I could do, seein' as how I was unfamiliar with the rules of zombie killin' and gyspy witch curses and whatnot, and had screwed things up worse 'en they ever could have been, just tryin' to help out poor Guiseppe.
"Hey look, it's Guiseppe," said the fireman as he stood up.
Guiseppe was tearin' down the hill, ridin' on his flower cart, comin' full speed right at Little Rosa. The little thing musta been goin' 30 miles an hour or so, pieces of wood breakin' off and flowers flyin' everywhere. I couldn't believe what the old man was doin'.
SPLOTCH! It sounded like a piledriver smashin' a sack of rotten bananas. She never knew what hit her, and her various body parts exploded upon impact with the heavy flower cart.
Her head rolled up to my feet. Her mouth was still movin' like she was tryin' to talk, but nuthin' came out since it wasn't hooked up to a body no more. Her eyes was rollin' around, tongue wagglin', teeth snappin'... I gagged a little bit at the sight.
Guiseppe slowly walked over, smoke waftin' off his clothes from where he'd caught some of my flames, half his hair singed off and his face kinda charred. He was lookin' pretty bad.
"Uh, sorry," I said as I shrugged my shoulders.
"Hey Guiseppe," said the fireman, "Did you see this damn fool burn your house down! You shouldn't let him play with your flame gun, it's a fire hazard!"
"Shut up!" Guiseppe and I said in unison.
"Red, bring-a the head over a-here and let-ta me crush it beneath-a the wheel of my-a cart. It's the only a-way to truly end-a her pain."
Forcin' the bile back down my throat, I picked up Little Rosa's head by the hair, careful that she wouldn't bite me, walked over, and put it under the wheel of Guiseppe's cart. He didn't say nothin' to me as we walked over there.
"Red, help-a me push-a da cart. We needa a little more force-a."
I came round to the back of the cart. We pushed. I moved forward real slow a couple inches, then faster for a foot or so. We heard the crunch beneath the wheel.
It was over.
"Guiseppe, I just wanted to help..."
"Red, you've a-caused me more a-harm that I could-a ever have imagined, more harm-a than any man should ever-a-have to bear. Go now, go – before-a you cause-a any more."
He slumped down against the back of the cart and started weeping.
I was gonna ask if it was OK to keep the flame thrower, since it was a right handy tool to have in my line of work, but it didn't really seem like the best idea at the time. So, I slid the straps off my back and placed it on the ground, then backed away, lookin' at the carnage I'd caused, and headed toward the street.
"Next time you'll take care with that thing!" shouted the old fireman. "It's a hazard, I tell ya!"
I turned and walked up the road a piece. At the top of the hill, ol' Phantom 309 pulled up in front of me. The door popped open, and I could see Big Joe behind the wheel, and Little Joe sittin' in his dog seat in back. I climbed in, they didn't say nuthin', I didn't say nuthin'.
I pulled my door shut, and the truck pulled away from the curb, into the half-lit sky, into the sun that was fixin' to rise.
RIP Snowman
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