The Flood of Swindon

The night of Hallowe'en, and something's different...

The sky is a bright pink, as though a massive, sky-sized sunset has stopped mid-set. It's 9pm. Frail old women are pottering about the street with smiles of contentment on their faces, apparently not worried about the dangers that Hallowe'en could present them. Instead of pumpkins with candles inside, gardens are lush and green, decorated with beautiful, multicoloured arrays of flowers. The sun shines down intensely even though it can't be seen in the sky, so that no matter where you look, your vision is slightly obscured by a reflective light. A cute little lamb is tied to a lamp-post outside a newsagents as its owner shops inside; it stands on its hind legs with its tongue poked slightly out when people pass by, and gets an "aww" and a pat on the head everytime.

Jakob, 9, looked on with a face of utmost disgust. He saw all the pedestrians making their way, and all the decorations, and felt smothered in a tide of forced jollity.

"Hey, dickface, I'm not the bloody Grinch! This is Hallowe'en!"

Sorry.

...has he gone? Good. Right.

The infamous suburbian town of Swindon was quite unlike any other. Sure, it never got dirty, like many towns, and knife crime, such a problem throughout the country, completely pervaded them... but that was only because the dirt and knives had had a meeting and decided it would be for the best if they stayed away.

Swindon was, in fact, according to how most people in the country saw it, a Hallowe'en town. No-one there knew it, though, as it was what they had been used to their whole lives. They were a bit scared of other towns, where it appeared to be Hallowe'en every day. They found it kinda creepy that people could stretch Hallowe'en to 364 days in length.

Nonetheless, once a year, the traditional Hallowe'en modus operandi came down from the walls and awe-inspiringly beautiful decorations took their place. All for the sake of Tradition.

Tradition. Just the word made Jakob get sick into his own scorn. He really was a rather malevolent child, and certainly didn't see why, for the sake of tradition, he had to be forced to take a break from it. He didn't do things "because they're what's done". He did things because "she gave me a look I didn't like" or because "I can".

Now... what I'm going to do, because I'm such a great and dedicated article writer, is I'm going to follow this boy home, to see what sort of WaCKqYY StUFFfS!!11! goes on in a house that raised a boy like Jakob. You've just got to promise me that you keep completely silent while we do this, or he'll hear me, and god knows what he'll do then! Ok. I'm going to switch into third-person mode now, you ready? Good.

Chapter One: Everything You Read Before This Chapter Was Essentially Pointless Because Nothing Actually Happened In The Story. I Probably Did It To Waste Your Time, Or To Just Make It Longer So That This Article Would Get The EPIC Template. I Can't Remember Which. At This Point, You're Probably Thinking, "When's He Actually Going To Get To The Freaking Story? Why Am I Wasting My Time With The Worst Head Since Steven Hawking Went Through A Gay Phase? And Why Am I Thinking A Thought So Long That It's Actually Extending The Heading? Goddamnit!" And You'd Be Right. I Think. Yes, Definitely. Well, What Can I Say, Huh? You Control Your Own Eyes! You Don't Have To Keep Reading This Like A Mindless Computer Potato! You Could Be Out Now, Skiing Or Having Sex Or Something! Yeah, That's Right, Leave... Oh Shit, Wait, Come Back! Come Back!! Come Back, I Say!... Umm... I Have Candy! Yes, Lots Of Candy, But You Can't Have It Until You've Finished Your Article. There's A Good Kid. Now, Stay Where You Are. Good. Here's The Story. Well Not Exactly Here Per Se, But, You Know What I Mean. As In, The Story Is About To Follow This Heading. Which, By The Way, Isn't The Actual Chapter Name... I Think. Well, It Might Be. Look, You Can Decide For Yourself, OK? OK, I Said? OK. Good. Right. Onto The Story. Well, I Don't Literally Mean On, Bu-

The narrator is then shot and replaced by a guy who KNOWS HOW TO WORK AT GUNPOINT! Jeez.

Chapter Two: The Actual Story. Probably

Jakob walked along the road to his house, having had a successful afternoon masturbating in the post office. Suddenly, he appear to catch a whiff of something. He turned around and looked directly at the narrator and began charging. OH HOLY SHINGLES, HE HEARD THE HUM OF YOUR COMPUTER FAN! I TOLD YOU TO KEEP COMPLETELY SILENT! No, please don't kill me, I've got so much to live for, so much to narrate, I have a chocolate eclair waiting for me at home in the fridge, plea-