STOP! Banto time!
Posted: 22 Mar 2019, 19:17
Times like these required two things. Atmosphere and Alcohol. Banto found herself in a place that offered one of them. “Yep. A pint, please.” She ordered with an uncharacteristically flat tone having wandered herself to near exhaustion. She'd be good to go in a minute, probably. Her pint’s worth of vanilla ice cream was promptly delivered to her at the bar. It was a vintage looking joint addressed at god knows where.
Taking up the container, she flipped the lid off with two thumbs. This caused perfectly softened ice cream down the packages side and sent the lid flying just far enough to land face down on the floor and leave a pool of rapidly melting dairy product underneath.
This moment of carelessness earned her a bit of a glare from the ‘dairy-tender,’ but Banto had already thrown her attention to something else. With a high-pitched “Ooooo,” She jumped from her chair with her plastic spoon in hand and slumped to the end of the bar. The entire parlor seemed to be quite empty except for Banto and the one employee, but another had narrowly escaped her notice until a grumble stole her curiosity.
A zombie stood at the end of this bar and it seemed to be staring intently at the wall. Banto promptly began poking it in the back of the head with her spoon.
“Please don’t do that…”
“Is this normal?” She asked, maintaining concentration the unusually docile zombie.
“No. Please stop poking him.”
“Hey!” She shouted at him, “Whatchya doin’!?”
“Miss. Please.”
His pleas fell on wildly distracted ears for a few more moments until Banto grew bored with the creatures lack of a reaction laxing her attention.
Queue then, a cacophonous racket from the street as bullet shots followed a loud voice echoing off the buildings, “D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**NNIT”
Banto paused as the noise passed, it sparked a rise in her heart rate and freeze in her chest. For just a moment, she could swear she knew that voice… That was, however, impossible! Impossible.
“How about that? Is that normal?”
“That?” the ‘Tender asked motioning for her to return to her ice cream, and holding a fresh, un-zombie juice coated spoon. “That is about normal.”
“Is that why this place is so dead?” She asked, breaking into restrained laughter as she spoke through the sentence. “HAHA! Get it? Dead? ‘Cause it’s dead… and there’s a zombie here… No?”
It was in that moment, perhaps coaxed by a residual hate of a really good pun, that the Zombie broke it’s trance and turned to face her. “I TOLD YOU!”
“Hmm?” Banto turned just in time to get sucker punched by a flailing zombie. “OW! D*CK!” She shouted, just in time to see his second blow fall and just barely step aside. Sadly, however, before Bento could lay any moves in return, a large man emerged from behind the counter, grabbing the distracted zombie by what was left of his hair, and slamming it into the thick glass case that housed the ice cream flavors ‘on tap’ as it were. “Bleh!” An involuntary hiccup of noise accompanied Banto’s rapid flinch. The large man then took a hatchet from Banto assumes is Canada’s equivalent of ‘hammer space’ and removed the creatures head from it’s shoulders, causing the limp body to fall to the floor at her feet.
“Hmm… Bet you wish it was just the lid now… don’t ya...” Banto's nose scrunched and she fished her lid from the pool. “Here... I got this part.” Looking to the oozing mess of human gunk and juices now pooling on the floor, she mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' as the larger man barked for the poor employee to clean the mess and wandered back from whence he came with a zombie head in his hands. For whatever reason.
Taking her leave of an incredibly awkward situation she emerged on the streets, the air buzzed with a waning anxiety over what events that she'd heard earlier. Even if this city was a bit off it's rocker, Banto could not wait to begin her life on her own!
It was only after Banto had left onto some street to go to some place with a bed, that the Parlor's employee realized Banto never paid for her ice cream.
Taking up the container, she flipped the lid off with two thumbs. This caused perfectly softened ice cream down the packages side and sent the lid flying just far enough to land face down on the floor and leave a pool of rapidly melting dairy product underneath.
This moment of carelessness earned her a bit of a glare from the ‘dairy-tender,’ but Banto had already thrown her attention to something else. With a high-pitched “Ooooo,” She jumped from her chair with her plastic spoon in hand and slumped to the end of the bar. The entire parlor seemed to be quite empty except for Banto and the one employee, but another had narrowly escaped her notice until a grumble stole her curiosity.
A zombie stood at the end of this bar and it seemed to be staring intently at the wall. Banto promptly began poking it in the back of the head with her spoon.
“Please don’t do that…”
“Is this normal?” She asked, maintaining concentration the unusually docile zombie.
“No. Please stop poking him.”
“Hey!” She shouted at him, “Whatchya doin’!?”
“Miss. Please.”
His pleas fell on wildly distracted ears for a few more moments until Banto grew bored with the creatures lack of a reaction laxing her attention.
Queue then, a cacophonous racket from the street as bullet shots followed a loud voice echoing off the buildings, “D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**n, D**NNIT”
Banto paused as the noise passed, it sparked a rise in her heart rate and freeze in her chest. For just a moment, she could swear she knew that voice… That was, however, impossible! Impossible.
“How about that? Is that normal?”
“That?” the ‘Tender asked motioning for her to return to her ice cream, and holding a fresh, un-zombie juice coated spoon. “That is about normal.”
“Is that why this place is so dead?” She asked, breaking into restrained laughter as she spoke through the sentence. “HAHA! Get it? Dead? ‘Cause it’s dead… and there’s a zombie here… No?”
It was in that moment, perhaps coaxed by a residual hate of a really good pun, that the Zombie broke it’s trance and turned to face her. “I TOLD YOU!”
“Hmm?” Banto turned just in time to get sucker punched by a flailing zombie. “OW! D*CK!” She shouted, just in time to see his second blow fall and just barely step aside. Sadly, however, before Bento could lay any moves in return, a large man emerged from behind the counter, grabbing the distracted zombie by what was left of his hair, and slamming it into the thick glass case that housed the ice cream flavors ‘on tap’ as it were. “Bleh!” An involuntary hiccup of noise accompanied Banto’s rapid flinch. The large man then took a hatchet from Banto assumes is Canada’s equivalent of ‘hammer space’ and removed the creatures head from it’s shoulders, causing the limp body to fall to the floor at her feet.
“Hmm… Bet you wish it was just the lid now… don’t ya...” Banto's nose scrunched and she fished her lid from the pool. “Here... I got this part.” Looking to the oozing mess of human gunk and juices now pooling on the floor, she mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' as the larger man barked for the poor employee to clean the mess and wandered back from whence he came with a zombie head in his hands. For whatever reason.
Taking her leave of an incredibly awkward situation she emerged on the streets, the air buzzed with a waning anxiety over what events that she'd heard earlier. Even if this city was a bit off it's rocker, Banto could not wait to begin her life on her own!
It was only after Banto had left onto some street to go to some place with a bed, that the Parlor's employee realized Banto never paid for her ice cream.