Tom’s Funeral was held in London and 27 million people attended, all so thankful to this normal man. This normal man who worked at a bank.This normal man who worked at a bank who saved the world.
”Aaaaghh!” Tom Royce awoke from a dream of a crashing plane, rushing through a downwards helix into a cruise liner. But that had since bounced from his thoughts back into the part of his brain where all the dreams were kept in a neat filing cabinet by a tiny alien, or so he liked to think. He was just a bit childish for a 34 year old man. So now his train of thought had stopped at ‘Aww,that’s no fun’ Station and Tom wasn’t in a wonderful mood. He had a doctor’s appointment. But at least he was in top shape, so the worst case scenario was that he would be offered a grape by the receptionist. Tom Royce didn’t like grapes. But then he noticed the train had carried on past to ‘Yay! breakfast’ station and he beckoned himself out of bed with the thought of the egg, bacon, and sausage sandwich that he so badly wanted.
He settled down on the couch in front of his 103″ Plasma TV, and switched to the news because there was nothing decent on Nickelodeon. Sky News’ bulletin music played and the voice of Frank Smottle sounded weird and distorted because Tom had left the sound system on Bass. Once that was fixed he heard Frank improvizing his lines as he watched live video of the happenings.
” Police are attempting to flush out the eco group ‘ Civilized Rock ‘ who are breaking windows at buckingham palace. They are saying that the somewhat peculiar third Friday the 13th of 2009 is going to lead to an apocalypse. We have concluded that they are just raving lunatics. We spoke to mass representatives of some religions which were,. All of them said that the apocalypse would only happen if their god/gods sent a message to them.”
So, Tom threw on some smart trousers and a shirt, but he wasn’t gonna be too serious, so he put on his Homer Simpson tie. He arrived at the Doctors, and was pointed through to the waiting room for Dr Grave by the receptionist.
“Would you like a grape, Mr Royce?” she asked kindly.
“No thanks. I don’t like grapes,” said Tom hurriedly,his raincoat acting like a cape as he whisked around the partially open waiting room door.
”Mr Thomas Fitzgibbon Royce, please come through to the testing area,” was announced over the sound system by the computer.
“The name is Tom,” said Tom in a similarly robotic voice.
Tom strided across the waiting room and into the Doc’s office.
“Aaahhh…Mr Royce, I’m afraid I have some, well, sudden news,” said Dr Royce Grave in a forgiving voice, as he stroked his wispy beard: which was like a fog on a string.
”Well, get down to the point then,” said Tom solemnly
”Well… I’m not used to giving this kind of news but; I’m afraid you are terminally ill with cancer,” said Dr Grave
”Oh…….. I’d-I-I’d better be off the-then,” said Tom shakily.
Tom shuffled through the waiting room and reception again, still turning down the offer of a grape.
“I don’t like grapes.”
He clunked closed the door of his convertible Mustang, and set off to work.He had Shaggy blasting out of the stereo to try and make him feel better. It did slightly, and by the time he got to work he’d almost forgotten about the news and was singing along to gangster’s paradise.
As his car trundled through the HSBC car park, with the V8 rumbling like a like a sleeping lion, his blackberry started singing Zippedy Doo-Dah, which meant he had a message.
The message read : Aahhh… I see you are destined to death, well, before you die, Mr Royce, I propose to you a chance. Just one tiny little crack you might be able to squeeze through, and also, save humanity. I have seen naive little creatures such as yourselves presenting your world news. Raving Lunatics they say, well, quite the opposite actually. To save humanity, you alone won’t have the power, you need someone with the power of a god. But most holidays are too far away for their representatives to be contacted, so don’t think you can go crying to Jesus. In the land of gods, you see, time is distance, and the 7 months until Christmas is a long way! So God, and Jesus, are both irrelevant
Your Pal, The Devil.
P.S Enjoy the attachment
1 attachment: All you need is love.mp3
Tom thought he was going mental.
“No, no Tom, that’s not real,” he said to himself stressfully.
He switched on the radio. He saw an aging man, a witty looking old man, that looked surprisingly able for his old age. five minutes later, he seemed to see the old man again, but decided it was just a trick of the light and that a lot of people look quite similar. But then… He saw the man a third time, getting off the train. Now he KNEW something very peculiar was going on.
“BBC Radio HELL! Believe me Tom Royce, you are in grave danger… DO…AS…I…SAY“
He switched off the radio, now head to toe in a cold sweat. He called his boss, and after just a few displaced and slightly demented sentences were spoke by Tom, his boss decided he needed the day off.
Tom got home and thought long and hard about the messages. He decided that even if it was just a trick of the mind, he might feel better if he did what the messages said.
So he set off, and looked at the blackberry for any information.
“The attachment, it was obvious!” he said to himself excitedly.
“All you need is love.. St. Valentine!… but I don’t really think he’s gonna be easy to find… how about- how about a descendant!”
So he looked in all the public places, the park, the shopping center, but no one had an obvious godly power. He thought he’d never find them, so he thought this madness was going to go on. He felt lost,like a 5 year old boy on 7 mile long beach, drifted along by the tide, away from all civilization.
’My oh my what a wonderful day, plenty of sunshine, coming my way, Zippedy Doo-Dah, Zippedy Day’
The message was a relief of massive proportions, like that boy on the beach had just been embraced into a loving hug by his father.
He checked the message in a rushed and frantic scramble for his phone in his backpack.
The message read: “the descendant is near, look for yourself, but when you have found him, you still can’t stop me!!!.”
Oh No… he didn’t have a lot of time……
There was a faint, distant crackling noise, like twigs snapping underfoot in the woods. The atmosphere was tense, and all was silent. Tom could hear voices in his head, whispering things like “They’re coming to get you!!!” the whispers grew to talking, and the talking grew to shouting, and the shouting grew to screaming, and then…
The sound of rumbling was identical to the sound of 10000 elephants migrating through a valley. The ground shook and the pressure was released when the statue of St. Valentine’s head flew off followed by a stream of white hot lava. A rip opened up in the floor and a familiar person clambered out.. it was the old man he’d been seeing! Following him were hundreds of thousands of deadly molten men and scaly scarred dragons.
Tom was panicking, unsure of what to do, the army of the damned was only 300 ft away. He clutched his blackberry and re read the second message: The descendant is near, but where? Look for yourself. Look for yourself! Tom was reassured by the strength he could feel building up inside him, he felt like an active volcano about to erupt. And so he screamed from the depths of his soul
“Light be upon you!
And a huge ray of golden sunshine was cast down from the heavens and erased all the trauma. A new beginning. A new hope.
This story ends with one final message from Thomas: Keep a strong heart and a clean soul, and you will be just about OK from there!
Epilogue
Tom died heroically saving humanity from the Devil and his army.
Tom’s Funeral was held in London and 27 million people attended, all so thankful to this normal man. This normal man who worked at a bank.This normal man who worked at a bank who saved the world.
