Part VII — Life or Death

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Perv swerved his arm to take aim at Sadiq, but the butch arm of a rainbow soldier knocked the gun out of his hand. As Sadiq and rainbow soldier jumped Perv, Hans and Mike handed out punches to the disbelieving blue-haired goons. Farage pulled Barron down to the ground behind a couch and talked as quick as an Englishman could talk: ‘Young man, judging by the effort our enemies are making to stop you, it is imperative that you obtain the orb of Covfefe. For this you must leave England in one piece.

A gunshot whizzed through the room, followed by the sound of broken glass, some of which Barron felt landing on his back. Barron looked up to see Sadiq Khan running at Perv with a swollen lip and fist raised in the air. Perv evaded the fist and punched Khan in the stomach. Barron turned to Nigel. ‘how do I get out of here? They must have the place surrounded.’
– ‘Yes, it is merely a matter of time before reinforcements arrive. But there is an escape. Follow me.’

They crawled to the back of the room, half-successfully avoiding the scuffling men and shards of glass. The last thing Barron saw before he exited the room was Hans landing a high-kick in the pierced nose of a rainbow warrior, and Perv ripping of his own shirt in a bloodrage, revealing chiseled abs underneath. Once out of the room Nigel and Farage got on their feet and Barron could hear Khan’s voice crying behind him: ‘Don’t let them escape! Get the boy!’ Barron followed Nigel who ran down a small stairway. Behind them Barron heard the sound of someone in pursuit.

Quickly Barron rushed down wooden steps until he found himself in a damp cellar, barely high enough for Nigel to stand upright, let alone Barron. Nigel was hurriedly pushing aside wine bottles and cans of food. ‘Where is it where is it’ he murmured.

Barron in the meanwhile grabbed a wine bottle and pushed himself against the wall behind the stairs. Nigel found what he was looking for: a wooden Santa Clause statue, as large as a hand. He pulled it towards him, and with minor rumbling a hidden door in the stone cellar wall slid open. Grinning, Nigel turned around, only to look straight into the barrel of a gun pointed at him by a very angry looking rainbow warrior. ‘Step away from the door, NOW’ she said. ‘Or else I will…’

It will never be known what she would have done, for at that same moment a green bottle hit her head so hard it broke into pieces, and 170 pounds of blue-haired butchness fell unconscious to the floor. Barron emerged from the shadows, the remainder of the bottle in his hand.

‘Splendid!’ Nigel said. ‘Here, take this.’ He hastily scribbled some notes on a piece of paper and gave it to Barron.

‘Make your escape through the tunnel. You will emerge safely at the other end. Get to Dover as quick as possible. Call the number on this paper, say I sent you. Now go quickly!’

Barron nodded and with bent head entered the low, dark tunnel. Before he disappeared, he turned around and faced Nigel Farage one last time. ‘Thank you’, he said. Farage’s eyes watered up. ‘Thank you, young Barron. Bless your father. Godspeed to your mission, the world depends on you!’ Nigel pushed the Santa Clause figurine back in its original space, and with the closing of the door darkness engulfed Barron.

 


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3 thoughts on “Part VII — Life or Death

  1. Never will understand that blue hair dye fetish. ‘Let’s see, I’m fat, unattractive, not terribly bright. Perhaps if my hair was blue?’

    1. Its a really obnoxious shit-test. They know its ugly, you know its ugly, but you are not allowed to say that. Its a power trip.

      Dying your hair blue is the female version of men staring at boobs 24/7.

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