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    The Cold Inside (Horror Short Stories)

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      Bum Curry burped, an impressive sight which made Nano Boy wonder if he was having an acid flashback.

      'Quickly!' cried Nano Boy because he was in a hurry.

      As they passed Oxford (Cardiff, Oxford, France, Turkey...it's just geography) the self-aware chair down there turned to them to stare. Bum Curry used his rotary dial mobile megaphone to yell down.

      'Give us a hand with that Shakira's bum, like, will you?'

      'Bum Curry! The chair's a psychopathic criminal!'

      'I'm a poo and you're a tiny boy,' said Bum Curry quite reasonably.

      'Fair point,' conceded Nano Boy.

      'Alright,' said the wheelchair, taciturn because too much dialogue gets tiring.

      The heroes sped in the Chopper across the European continent, alighting in Turkey. The wheelchair simply folded over the fabric of the universe, made a nice cravat, and arrived without the fanfare but looking very dapper.

      Shakira's Butt was nearing critical wibble-velocity and making a truly horrific vibrato-screeching. The earth itself shook. All of it.

      'We must stop the gyrations!' said Nano Boy. 'Bum Curry - unleash the force!'

      'Right-ho,' said Bum Curry.

      Without a single thought for his own safety the brave hero-poop splat-leapt fully a hundred metres directly into Shakira’s wriggling bottom.

      'My God!' she said (unnecessarily) just as a bout of uncontrollable gurgles emanated from her gargantuan, earthquake-inducing, twinkie-fuelled buttocks.

      Nano Boy attached a hook dangling from the chopper to the stricken butt of popstar-turned-chip-vendor Shakira and began towing it clear of the danger zone.

      'To Oxford!'

      Turkey cheered their narrow escape from the explosion broiling and roiling.

      ...

      Soon, the chopper passed above France.

      ...

      The gargantuan butt stewed and brewed.

      ...and...

      Boom.

      Turkey might have been saved. France was not quite so lucky.

      'Oops,' said Nano Boy, making a squiggly face out in the ruined French countryside.

      Bum Curry popped from the deadly behind full of the power of TWINKIES! He sniggered. He was a sentient poo, but also quite childish.

      'Ha...I did that! I beat Shakira's Butt and saved the day!'

      'I'm coming to save the day!' said Stephen Hawking’s wheelchair.

      'Did we already do that?' said a perplexed Nano Boy.

      Nope.

      Turns out they were rubbish heroes indeed, and had forgotten about the retaliatory strike aimed for Pan-America just as badly as the writer of this story. The missiles returned suddenly and inexplicably (perhaps...I've no idea at this point) right at France!

      But the wheelchair was not stupid, or childish...it was the product of the universes' most genius mind. It was suffused with intellect, swaddled it, drunk on the milk of humanity's greatest brain.

      The chair made the most advanced weapons' system from a piece of grass in two seconds, then unleashed a barrage of invisible quantum particle missiles into the air (or something) and Shakira's bottom was rear-ended by the fusillade, and exploded, causing the missiles to...oh, who cares? It doesn't really matter anyway.

      Bum Curry, scraps of Shakira's Bum, Twinkies, three tricycles and some confetti rained down from the sky. All of it, moist.

      Nano Boy high fived himself, because none of the other heroes had hands.

      'Thanks a bunch,' he said to the fizzling physicist's protégé nee, chair.

      'No worries,' said Stephen Hawking's Wheelchair, already in disguise as an Australian, before it rode itself off into the sunset.

      Afterward, Nano Boy and his faithful side kick treated themselves to a glass of vodka and a cookie, thus ending their latest escapade.

      To be continued...

      On next week's 'ADVENTURES OF NANO BOY AND BUM CURRY!'

      Nah. Not really.

      Thanks for reading.

      Love you. x

      About the Author:

      Craig Saunders is the author of over thirty novels and novellas, including 'Masters of Blood and Bone', 'RAIN' and 'Deadlift'. He writes across many genres, but horror, humour (the 'Spiggot' series) and fantasy (the 'Rythe' tales) are his favourites.

      Craig lives in Norfolk, England, with his wife and children, likes nice people and good coffee. Find out more on Amazon, or visit:

      www.craigrsaunders.blogspot.com

      www.facebook.com/craigrsaundersauthor

      @Grumblesprout

      Also by Craig Saunders

      Novels

      The Dead Boy

      Left to Darkness

      Masters of Blood and Bone

      Damned to Cold Fire (previously published as 'The Estate')

      A Home by the Sea

      RAIN

      Vigil

      The Noose and Gibbet

      A Stranger's Grave

      The Love of the Dead

      Spiggot

      Spiggot, Too

      BLOOD DRUGS TEA (previously published as 'The Gold Ring')

      The Devil Lied

      Novellas

      UNIT 731

      Death by a Mother's Hand

      Days of Christmas

      Flesh and Coin

      Bloodeye

      Deadlift

      A Scarecrow to Watch over Her

      The Walls of Madness

      Insulation

      Short Story Collections

      Dead in the Trunk (Vol. I)

      Angels in Black and White (Vol. II)

      Dark Words (Vol. III)

      The Cold Inside (Vol. IV)

      Writing as Craig R. Saunders:

      The Outlaw King (The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One)

      The Thief King (The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Two)

      The Queen of Thieves (The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three)

      Rythe Awakes (The Rythe Quadrilogy Book One)

      The Tides of Rythe (The Rythe Quadrilogy Book Two)

      Rythe Falls (The Rythe Quadrilogy Book Three)

      Beneath Rythe (The Rythe Quadrilogy Book Four)

     

     

     



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