SJ Longthorne

Simon was confused at first, then went pale. "YOU're asking me about spooky sounds? Wait where's your broadsword?"

“I... I left it. At the cleaners. I...”

Another sound "..couldnt resist, they had a discount" Simon curled inside the picnic cloth and started mumbling the like of "Im gonna slay a Rabid Brainbogus, wanna join Simon, oh I dont know, sounds kinda dangerous, trust me it's like a picnic in a park, that gives me an idea"

"It's a longsword by the way, when are you going to learn that?" She said as she measured the butter knife's weight in her hand. Too light for throwing.. this is gonna get nasty. "From the looks of it, never!" a voice cried under the cloth.

She’d been about to say, “What on earth is wrong with you?”, but cut herself short. The skin of Simon’s hands had turned purple.

She pulled over the picnic cloth, and in her surprise saw a Rabid Brainbogus drilling into Simon's head. How did it get so close, so fast!? The very purple Simon frowned. "There IS something on my mouth aint there?"

In one fluid movement, she cut down with the butter knife and severed the Brainbogus from Simon’s head. It skittered across the ground, blood and brain juices splattering upon impact. Simon was whimpering. He looked like child, despite his age lines.

She knelt down beside him and squinted. Part of the Brainbogus was still lodged deep in his skull. Still drilling. Still burrowing.