Perry Slough-bie FINALE

by: benzo369

Sitting in the jail cell, the Breadman waited for his phone call. A man wacked-out on some sort of freaky moonlight juice kept howling and raving that he was a werewolf.

“SHAAAA-DAAA-UP!” an officer yelled in to the cell.

The Breadman felt very alone and confused. The police had read him his rights and accused him of tampering with evidence of a crime scene. Garry Perry had somehow escaped being charged. They said he was too simple-minded to have committed that kind of crime. But they didn’t know the truth. The Breadman was convinced that Garry Perry had known about his money making plan and had turned himself in to a zombie in order to stop the Breadman from cashing in on finding the real zombie. It made sense to him, anyways.

A new friend named Chad got up and walked over to him and said with contemptuous words: “you better move little man.”

The Breadman did as he asked and moved to the other side of the cell. The third man, the Wolfman, kept near the bars shaking them violently and the Breadman, realising he was not about to get that phone call, laid his head down hoping for a night’s rest.

Morning brought new sense of energy but Chad stood above him smiling, which seemed to pull that energy away.

“Move little man.”

The Breadman moved again and again and again until the Wolfman, having recovered from his night of lunacy but clearly still hungover from his moonlight juice, yelled painfully: “I bit a cop so if you think, Chad, that I am afraid of biting you big boy then you are mistaken.”

These words seemed to have enchanted Chad as he sat down and smiled hoping for more story time.

“I can turn anyone in to a werewolf, I am sure of it.”

The Breadman listened closely to the conversation but did not interrupt for fear for his life. The conversation was weird and surrounded by all sorts of mystic mayhem that the Wolfman had created around town. He claimed that it was in fact the police that were the zombies and not the jailed. So when he finally brought up his biting of the policeman Chad eagerly asked: “did he turn?”

“I ain’t ever gonna know, my good man. He pulled us off the bus that is sure. But whether or not a werewolf can turn a zombie in to a werewolf is unknown. Whether or not a zombie can turn a werewolf in to a zombie is unknown.”

“I knew you da choose,” the Breadman interrupted. Both men looked over to the small man, who then shut his mouth.

“Come now Mr Lowe,” the constable in charge of the gate said politely. “Your friend Garry is here. Time for you to go home.”

*******************

The ride home was quick and silent but once the two men stood outside of Garry Perry’s old truck, they began a short conversation about the night before.

“You no zombe-ya, Garry,” the Breadman said.

“I knew you thinking so bud me not undead, yet.” Garry Perry laughed.

“Whada-time you leave-a Slough?”

“Never can leave da Slough. I think you wana steal Clay’s home.”

“Oh nada-way,” the Breadman said in honest shock. “I wana to steal the zombe-ya, bud no steal Clay’s home.”

“Why da zombe-ya?

The Breadman remained silent for a moment realising that if he wanted to truly know the real zombie he might have looked inside at his soul and found that indeed the zombie lies within. For the zombie is fixed to his way of life, incapable of leaving his everydayness.

“No home in da Slough without you too.”

Garry Perry smiled. That was something Garry Perry had known a long time ago when it was just another day on the Slough where the littlest shit happens but people were very in to it.