Tuesday, October 31, 2006

The Bigger The Cushion

by Matthew Sanborn Smith

Garrity ran for his life through the dark forest. Why the hell had he chosen to be a pin cushion for Halloween? And where had everyone, EVERYONE, gotten all those pins? The villagers chased him uphill as he tried desperately to shed his costume. The damned zipper was stuck! There was a pin in it! Damn these people who couldn't take a joke.

He was sweating like a pig. His lungs refused to take anymore air. Blood burned his eyes. He'd been stabbed a hundred or more times before he was able to pull away from them, all the while screaming, "It's a costume! It's a costume!"

At the top of the hill Garrity was able to peer above the treetops. Then he understood. Toxic waste from a massive pin factory poured into the village's water supply. So they weren't just insane. They were brain damaged. And they had more than their fair share of pins.

They were almost on him. With sudden inspiration, he tore at his costume and pulled the stuffing out, letting it float on the wind. It was a hell of a risk; the stuffing was the only thing that had saved his life thus far. The crazed villagers found him upon the hilltop, the red cloth of his costume sagging all around him.

"Help!" he screamed. My gown is three sizes too large!" Garrity's pulse pounded in his ears as the mob surrounded him, pins at the fore, but to lose his cool now was to invite a gruesome death. When the measuring tape came out, he almost fainted.

The villagers altered his "gown" using the pins to hold their alterations in place until someone came forth with a complete sewing kit. When the crowd drew back, Garrity, in his new outfit, was the hottest piece of ass on the hilltop.

"Excuse me," Garrity said to the leering mutants that drank in the sight of him, "My eyes are up here!"

In moments, the chase was on again.

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