The television shook. “It is your honer to be here. Most people only think that I am doing this for the wrong reasons. Well after this there will be no more of that. I want to make it clear that if there is any more of this, there will be very grave punishments.”
The speech ended and the TV lock stopped. We flicked back over to JMTV. It was Coronation City.
“Do we have to watch this crap.” The words came over from my house mate Stuart. I looked over.
His beer was resting on his chest and his book, “How To Be Good”, was over his face. “If you don’t want to watch go get some food.” I said starring back at the TV.
“But we don’t have any thing in.” I looked over, the flickering bulb that had been Stuwarts reading light had flicked of casting a shadow over the man. When it flicked back on his bear had fallen to the floor and the liquid was escaping from its tin prison.
“Then go to the shops and get a takeaway or shut up and I’ll get it later.” My argument was strong espeically for a man like Stuart. He was a big man with a big hart, he was also a very big eater. The only time he was not eating was when he was sleeping or shopping for food. He got up and walked out of the room. About 5 minutes later he came back in holding a Pizza delivery menu.
“What you want?”
“What is there?” I asked with a sense of boredom.
“The normal. Merciful Margarita or Perverted Pepperoni.”
“Surprise me.”
“You always say that.”
“I always like surprises.”
It was only then that I noticed the advertisements had begun. “Do you like surprises when you’re ordering your pizza? Well if that’s a yes you should order from Dominions.” The voice was high and polished. It occurred to me that the advert and our conversation were an incredible coincidence, but we both ignored it and went about ordering from are normal pizza place, Dominions Mark 2.
About 10 minutes later a hot smoking pizza was on my lap and the TV was booming. Stuart had set it to his favourite programme “The News”. They were showing of the latest radio sets and sound equipment.
“I don’t get this programme” tossing my finished needel on the floor. “The presenters normally do serious programmes, like Shawn Farer was hosting Big Brother. Now its this.” The question was more just a way to get Stuart really angry.
“It’s to show people what the new stuff is, from clothes and cars to sex and slaves.” His answer was almost rehearsed.
“Yeh but we would never consider getting a prostitute. And we can barely afford water let alone a car”
“Shut up and eat your pizza.”
” I already have”
“Then shut up and smoke your weed.”
” I already have and anyway I inject it”
“Go #<%^ yourself, or shut up. The choice is yours.”
Normally, I would have persisted until he got to the point of attacking me, but suddenly the flashlights from the local helicopter beamed into the room and outside I saw the billboard screen flick to a picture of us. This could only mean that the Tag Man was right outside.
“Oh £@$*!” I felt the words leave my mouth before I could stop them.
“What is it now?”
“It’s *£&* Tag Man.”
Stuwart jumed to his feet and ran to the door. Before I could join him, the glass shattered and a figure appeared. It was a man, tall and blond. I thought that it had bean a woman before, but then I had not watched “Tag Man” for a long time. He was about to get me when Stuart smacked a table on him.
“Come on! You want to die? It’s only two days till next month and your too bloody slow to catch any body else.” His words snapped me back to myself. We ran down stairs. Stuart threw me the house gun.
“WHY DO I HAVE TO DO IT?”
“YOU’RE SICK AT DARTS.”
“DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A £@$!^%$ DART?” Before I could give him the gun back, the Tag Man was looming over us. The gun went off before I could stop it, straight through the man’s chest. I fired again, this time it went trough is leg. It took three more shots to finish off Tag Man. I looked over to Stuart. He gave me a warm smile and a thumbs up. Then I lost consciousness. The last thing i saw was a poster of are priminester. The caption read “James Merdoc is your leader”.
FINALDRAFT
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