TERMINATED AT PRESENT

IT was a typical busy day, a head busting night for me. The city
streets were still overtaken by the vampires and zombies who
had started their mission in the last decade. It was my job to
search and destroy all their hell hounds. Since the reign of the
vampires and zombies the world had slipped away from being
a beautiful, bright, bustling home for all, to a dull, lifeless and
decrepit hole. People we had known were turning into a mass
army of Satan's warriors. I had to patrol cautiously, without
trusting anyone, to rid our world as we know it from anything
or one that was not human. I was the TERMINATOR . . .

As I drove through the streets I came across a bunch of
dead heads. I loaded my arsenal of guns and various
terminating devices, including blades and stakes. From a
distance I spied six of them. From what I could detect they
were zombies. I aimed at them what at the time seemed like a
perfect shot, but I realised just in the neck of time it wasn't, so
I got into my tin can and put my foot on the pedal and drove
over them. I could feel every bone crush beneath the wheels of
my car. I made a sharp u-turn and went back to squash the two
I had missed first time. The car began to slide on what I
thought at the time was a banana-skin, but luckily it was only
the remains of brains and guts. It was tough, but I believe
firmly in completing my objective. You would be surprised
how your car can get so dirty with particles of body debris on
it. Well, it looks like another day at the car wash for me.
Damn.

I left the scene to carry on and look for some more things
to kill. The streets seemed to be emptier by night. Then
suddenly I heard an ear-bursting scream. Where did it come
from? I saw a woman run from a side alley. In close pursuit
were a couple of vampires. I jumped from my car and started
shooting. Bullets ripped through the fat of the woman (it
wasn't my place to advise her about Weight Watchers.) I
thought to myself, Oh, no, wrong target, but at the same time
thought, as my ma always says when something goes wrong,
"Worse things happen at sea." Anyway, I battled on. Nothing
could stop me. I was the terminator.

I whipped up some serious ass-whipping guns and began
to aim and fire at anything that moved, including blades of
grass – you never know. I eventually got a good aim and blew
a leg off each vampire straight into Mars. I then strolled over
to my one-legged victims and cut off their heads. I blurted out
a girlie laugh which was not so becoming of me – in fact, not
becoming of any terminator.

Later that day I located the hideout of the head vampire
and zombies. I had staked out these guys last month (it was a
breeze). I kicked in their four-by-four woodworm door with a
Barbie lock on it. Then, out of nowhere, a vampire jumped on
me. It was at this stage I became really annoyed, as my Sunday
going-to-mass suit was soiled. I was determined they were
going to pay. I took out my sword set given to me last
Christmas from grandma and continued to slash off their heads
and every limb they had. I finished them off by giving them
each a personalised jab in the heart. I then proceeded to scurry
down along the winding corridors to find the other culprits. I
peered at a slice of light creeping from under a door. I slowly
tiptoed my way towards it, but the silence was demolished by a
blood-curdling scream. I raced Michael Jordan to the door
and kicked it in. The gruesome smell of decomposing bodies
engulfed the air. I fell to the ground. I had been hit by a magic
wand in the back of the head. I thought to myself, well, that
son of a –

When I regained consciousness I was unable to move. I
was tied to a pillar at the top of the room. (It was then I
wondered if a can of spinach would have worked – it always
did for Popeye – but it was too late thinking of packed lunches
now). Suddenly, out of the darkness, one of the biggest
vampires I had ever seen appeared. He must have been the
head vampire, because all there was of him was a big head.
How could I kill it? How was I going to escape? How do
they put the figs into the fig-roll? I knew that at any minute I
would be meeting my maker. I then came up with an idea to
escape, but not for long. Twenty of them jumped on me and
sucked the blood from my muscular, well-oiled body, and not
alone that – they totally ruined my Sunday suit.

At present I am still lying here in this bloodbath. It's
unclear to me if I am still the Terminator or the terminated. If
I am the latter, order one for me for the Millennium – double
Bloody Mary. (P.S. In the words of the man himself, I'll be
back …………….)

By Stephen Withers

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