Fred was by now very hungry, but not THAT hungry. So the gore
former reluctant hero now turned crazed psychopathic killer walked down the
town street and knocked on the door of the first inn he found. He waited a
knowing that it was very late at night and that the inn keeper would not be
used to a guest
calling at this particular hour. Fred looked up at the inn's sign,
swinging in the wind just
above his head. He smiled as he read the carved plaque; the Butchered Baby
Now this was his kind of culinary establishment!
Ten minutes later and after pounding the door nearly to pieces, the inn keeper finally came down to find out what all the fuss was about. He opened the door slit and peeked through. "What the HELL is going on!" he shouted. "You're making enough noise to wake the dead!"
Fred turned around and looked back the way he had come. The street was still deserted. "I hope not," he said, mostly to himself.
"So what do you want?" the inn keeper asked, not noticing the blood and guts that coated Fred's body. It was very dark, you see, and street lights had not yet been invented. "I want a meal, a warm fire and a keg of your finest mead," Fred answered. "At this time of night?!" the inn keeper said, inflamed, "Well you can just jump in the bloody ocean for all I care. You'll not get a crumb from me you wool-headed idiot!" "I'll pay you fifty crowns," Fred answered, trying to tempt the man into opening his door. Of course, Fred didn't have a penny on him, but after killing over forty people, a little lie didn't bother him at all.
A second ticked by and then Fred heard the bolt slip back and the door was opened for him. "The money's up front boy," the inn keeper said and held out his hand. With a quick swipe the inn keeper's hand was severed from his wrist and flopped to the ground. "MY GOD MAN!" the inn keeper screamed, "THAT'S THE HAND I WIPE MY ARSE WITH!"
9/19/1999 10:41:49 PM
The Never Ending Quest Home
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