Title: Ash's Club
Author:DK
Universe: Evil Dead/Army of Darkness
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Summary: Ash buys a golf club to fight the deadites with.
Author's Notes: Never really wrote a fan fic before. I just wanted to see if I could create dialog that seemed like something Ash would say. It is a very silly story, and was just a quickie I wrote. There may be spelling and grammar errors, I still need to look over it some. I'm gonna post it to the brucefic group soon.
“Yeah yeah yeah, what else you got?” Ash asked, becoming annoyed with the salesman.
“Sir, I have already told you I don't carry chain saws, I don't carry shotguns, all I have is golf clubs, golf clubs, and golf clubs.” Bob raised his hands, showcasing the fine selection of designer golf clubs behind him.
“Look buddy...” Ash began, wanting to trash the ninny and his selection of golf clubs in a torrent of hostile wit. He ended though in a completely different shade, realizing he really didn't have any choice if he was gonna get a weapon from Bob. “Just give me that nine iron.” He pointed to a very dangerous looking golf club. He didn't care which one he got as long as it was big enough and heavy enough to do some serious damage.
“Perfect choice, sir. That particular one is made of a titanium composite.” He brought it down from the rack and sat it on the counter in front of him.
“Yeah... I know... that's why I picked it.” Ash lied.
Bob wrung up the golf club at the cash register. “Do you wish to have this gift wrapped?” He asked.
“No I don't wish to have it gift wrapped, and can we hurry it up some bud? It's not like its the end of the world or anything.”
The salesman's speed did not seem to increase at this point, if anything it seemed to slow down considerably after the comment.
“Come on, come on, pal, I have seen old ladies move faster than you.”
“Sir, if you keep putting me down, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store.” Bob said, stopping any progress in getting Ash the golf club.
Ash sighed. “Ok, ok, all ready, I'll be quiet.”
The man looked doubtful.
“I promise. Look cross my heart.” He made a cross shaped gesture over his heart.
“Thank you.” Bob said returning to his task at hand.
Ash rolled his eyes as soon as Bob's attention was diverted. He need that club today, and it was taking until next week to get it.
Finally the man handed the club to Ash. Ash swung the club around a bit, feeling it's weight and balance.
“Yeah... yeah... this feels good.” He said. Maybe he could actually do some damage to the deadites. It wasn't his old chain saw, but at least it wouldn't fall apart when he would forget to oil it regularly.
“That will be $1,299.86.” Bob said. “Will that be cash, check, or credit?”
Ash stopped swinging the very expensive club.
“Wh...what did you...” Ask coughed. “How much is this metal stick again?”
“$1,299.86” Bob repeatedly merrily.
Of course he is happy. Ash thought. He can close shop for a week if he sells one of these babies.
Ash put the club down gently on the counter top, and pulled out his wallet. The void that had never really contained any cash in it's life still sat empty, and his credit cards had been stolen by a she-demon in another dimension. For all he knew by know he had bought several pairs of expensive shoes for a woman with four breasts, eight arms, and too many ways to seduce a fellow and get him to lower his guard.
Ash looked at the eager Bob.
“Well Bob.” Ash licked his dry lips. “What uhh... How much are those other ones.”
“What other ones?” Bob asked.
“Ummm those one over there.” Ash pointed towards the far corner. Bob turned around and moved to the far corner, trying to see which golf clubs Ash was pointing at.
With Bob distracted, Ash grabbed the club and ran out of the store.
$1,299.86 for a club he was going to use to save the fat man's world. Bob has to be crazy.Ash thought, trying to put some distance between him and the store. From behind him, Ash heard the tell tail ding-dong noise made by someone opening Golf World's door. Looking back, he saw Bob running after him waving his arms over his head.
“Oh for the love of...” Ash stuttered, struggling to put more space between him and Bob.
He ran through the parking lot, heading back towards the heart of the city where a very large and unusual shaped purple and pink tornado was lurking, spitting out all manner of strange lightning and odd phenomena.
Not only did Ash not manage to lose Bob, but the fat man gained on him.
“He must be using steroids or something.” Ash muttered, huffing and puffing, trying to stay ahead.
“Look Bob.” Ash yelled. “Your just gonna...” He gulped air. “get yourself killed” He gulped more air. “you had better turn around.” His stamina was waining, long runs were just not his sort of thing.
“Sir, you need to pay for that!” Bob yelled back.
Ahead of him the tornado loomed ever closer, he was only a few more blocks away from it and what ever other monstrosities it would be spewing out about now. He had to get to the book at the tornado's center, that waas causing all this crap and stop the damn thing while there was still time and he still had breath to do it with.
Ash stopped, huffing and puffing for air, he leaned over putting hands on his knees and tried to recover.
Bob quickly caught up with him, seemingly un-phased by the quick jaunt.
“Sir...sir...” Bob said. “You forgot to pay for that club, we need to go back to the store.”
“Ummm... listen here Bobby.” Ash replied. “I got to use this club see, to knock out the things that is guarding that large twister of evil behind us. Can't you, you know, just bill me for it?”
“I'm sorry sir, we can't bill you, but we do have a lay away plan, just in time for the holi” Bob's voice was cut short as a hand suddenly exploded out of his chest. It opened and closed, covered in Bob's innards.
“Oh my goodness.” Bob said, before expiring.
Bob's blood covered Ash, who grimly wiped his eyes clear and squinted at the deadite as it removed it's arm from Bob's chest.
“Sweet sweet souls!!!” It yelled, licking Bob's innards from it's hand and glaring at Ash. What once may have been a woman now sported red skin, a dead face, and smelled like hell in a microwave. Large yellow teeth ringed it's mouth, and crooked claws lined it's hands.
“Son of a....” Ash yelled, swinging the club at the things face. He shattered it's teeth and cracked it's skull. The force of the blow toppled it on it's side. It laid there on the ground holding it's broken face in pain.
“You'll never stop us.” It muttered through clenched jaws.
“This is for Bob you over grown toilet bag.” Ash swung the club again and again, destroying the remains of the deadites head, and spreading brain goo all over himself and the club. He wasn't appeased until the thing stopped twitching.
Looking over at Bob, he sighed. “Sorry Bobby, I...I tried to warn ya.”
The sound of a large pack of deadites approaching the area, drew his attention, their moans and cries for soul swallowing too distinct to be anything else. They were some ways off, but quickly covering the distance between them and Ash, possibly having been drawn by the fragrance of fresh souls, or Bob's departing words.
With another innocent dead, more deadites on the way, and another damned book causing problems it was just another day in the life of Ash. He lifted the golf club above his head, and charged the deadites.
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