Rescue was delivered.
Many people joined a tribal uproar that sounded more aggressive than cheery.
The weight of death evaporated leaving those left behind feeling light and euphoric.
One man panicked.
Afraid that he would float away so knelt down and grabbed onto the person’s legs in front.
Timid Christians took this as their queue to kneel and pray.
The remaining 99% took it as an impromptu conga.
Two Christians were pulped to death.
Nobody cared.
Relatively it was meaningless.
5 minutes ago hundreds of people were to die, now only a couple had.
Meh.
The young man who was trapped between the 2 girls yearned for human touch but was too afraid.
He grabbed himself by the wrist, propelling himself around like a ragdoll.
One woman realised that she didn’t know how to act in this situation or what face to make….reaching an epiphany that she might have some sort of mental illness.
Two British men were astounded at the grotesque outburst of positive emotion, electing to make facetious comments to regain their comfort.
“Well, I feel sorry for all the fat people. Was their only chance of being popular but now no one wants to eat them or use them as a lilo they’ve been relegated back to pariah status.”
“I’d worked myself up into a state almost equalling happiness. This conga business shot me right down, yea. I’m just waiting for someone’s mum to hand out cheese and pineapple sticks before a DJ obsessed with a disconnected telephone plays the Time Warp. Those Christians had the right idea getting all trampled and shit. Lucky fuckers.”
An American shared this mood with his English cousins. He chipped in with “eww…gay.” Rising his tone on the “ay” part in that confusing way many Americans make their statements sound like questions. They should be forced to carry around flash cards containing punctuation symbols. The only one that would be missing from their speech would be a ‘.’
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