Kilit Bang

Keggers

This is based a few years in the future where Cillit Bang has been outlawed I wrote it myself out of sheer boredom and found myself handing it up to my English teacher for an assignment, please tell me what you think.



The night was dark, the mist thick, a lone figure walked down the silent boulevard. Visibility was low and the street lamps did little to penetrate the enveloping darkness that seemed to consume all light. A cat ran across the man’s path and he quickened his pace, looking over his shoulder as he did so. His assailants saw the opportunity to strike and leapt in the man’s path. Wasting no time the assassins drove their poison laden weapons into the walker’s face. The man, frozen by fear could do nothing as he felt himself breathing in the foul concoction. In less than thirty seconds the toxin began to take effect and he felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Despite all this he couldn’t help but feel he recognised the smell of the poison, just before consciousness left him he was struck by an epiphany, ironic wasn’t that he would be killed by what he had endorsed so heavily. The assassins removed their weapons from the man’s face, as he fell the taller of the two assailants smiled and spat ‘Bang and the dirt is gone’ they then turned and fled the scene.

The Next Day

“So what do we have here Jackson?” Chief Inspector Peter Phillips wasn’t used to dealing with assault cases in his small town of Upper Downington. So while this was relatively new and technically exciting to him it as also inconvenient and generated a beastly amount of paperwork “Male, appears to be in his late thirties, early forties, seems like some kind of chemicals were used in the attack.” Constable Thomas Jackson had been born and bred in the unfortunately named Upper Downington, nothing ever happened there so this was all bloody exciting to the young constable.
“Chemicals you say? Well my my this seems serious! Any word back yet from the lab?” This was truly unexplored territory for all of them.
“Not yet sir, but we do have a possible I.D on the victim, one Barry Scott, he was in a chain of adverts a while back.”
“What for?”
“A household cleaner Cillit Bang.”
“Oh I remember them now, ghastly things! What ever happened to it?”
“Cillit Bang was taken of the shelves when several people started suffering from it’s use, symptoms of prolonged exposure include loss of consciousness, death, loss of hearing, loss of sight and an irrational fear of loud middle aged men.”
“Sounds like terrible stuff, how’s the victim.”
“Not in a good state he looks as if he could be dead within the next few hours, but we do have a witness.”
“Then bring me to him!” They navigated their way through the crime scene to a car where another constable was just giving up trying to get answers out of a young boy who had a dirty and unkept air about him. Jackson approached the constable who had been questioning the boy.
“Been able to get anything new out of him Whelps?”
“ ‘fraid not Tom, nothin’ more than his first name and that he saw the guy attacked.” Whelps’s voice had an air of submission about it. Whelps headed off in the direction of forensics to see if he could be of any use there. Jackson rejoined the inspector and told him everything that Whelps said. “Well, that’s not much good is it? I’ll have a word with the boy myself.” Phillips said before turning on his heel and walking over to the boy. “Hello their my name is Inspector Phillips, I’m with the police can you tell me what you saw here?” He talked slowly and loudly as you might see some more ignorant people talking to tourists who had asked in perfect English where the bathroom was. The boy scowled at Phillips before saying “I said it to the last guy and I’ll say it to you, I’m in no way mentally incapable so don’t talk to me as if I am. Until you find someone with some level of policing competence I’m not telling anyone anything.” Phillips was so taken aback by this statement he was lost for words. Jackson on the other hand just laughed and taking out his note pad asked “Alright then what did you see?”
“You seem to have an I.Q higher than that of an alsatian, congratulations!” There was enough sarcasm in his voice to force a man into a coma but Jackson was used to smartalics and shook it off.
“Just tell me what you saw.”
“It was dark and misty so visibility was low but from what I could see that guy was walking down the road when these two women jumped out of the darkness and shoved mops in his face. A few moments later he passed out then and they ran.” Jackson just looked at the youth in front of him looking for some sign of humor on the boy’s face. When he found there was none began to wonder if such a ridiculous story could be true.
“This is all true?”
“Every word of it.”
“I suppose it would take some special kind of weirdo to come up with something like that!” Jackson said with a chuckle.
“Is that all?”
“Pretty much, if there was anything else I didn’t see it.”
The first thing Jackson did was send out a message via the radio informing all officers to be on the look out for two women armed with mops doused in poison and then said “Well, thanks do you have a number that we can call you on?” This was just routine, Jackson was anxious to get out of here and get hunting for clues. Chief Inspector Phillips on the other hand was still suffering from shock after the boy’s comment.
“Sorry squire I can’t help you there” the boy (who’s name happened to be Harold) said “You see I don’t have a home, I was setting up shop in a comfy pile of discarded cardboard boxes when the ‘attack’ happened.” Even though he seemed genuine there was not a hint of regret in Harold’s voice.
“Oh, um...yeah.” Jackson said clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll be seeing you then.” At that Jackson turned grabbing Phillips as he did so and headed for his car. After a few minutes of driving the shock that had been caused to Phillips by the boy wore off. “Wait, Jackson turn around I can’t let that little beggar get away with speaking to me like that!”
“Sir, do you think there is honestly any point in us doing that?” Said Jackson not really in the mood for the inspector’s special brand of upper class idiocy today.
“Of course I do for I am Chie-” At that moment Philip’s phone started to ring.
“Hello?” Since Jackson could only hear the Inspector’s side of an already strange conversation it went something like this.
“Yes, I am currently heading the investigation into the recent Scott attack. A transvestite you say? And what did you say the mop was laced with? Fell down a ditch and broke his ankle? Nineteen forties housewife? Sound’s serious old bean, have the suspect taken into custody and the mop sent to the lab for testing.” He hung up his phone turning to Jackson he said “Turn us around Jackson we need to the police station!”
“Ah, sir we’re already heading to the police station.”
“Bloody good work Jackson, bloody good work.” Ten minutes later they were in the police station preparing to talk to the transvestite turned would be assassin. Phillips took his place behind the regulation two-way mirror and Jackson went in to begin the interrogation.
“Well then let’s this show on the road, what’s your name?” Jackson had never done this before so he didn’t really know what he was doing. “Well mate, me birth certificate says John but my friends call me Susan.” Jackson could taste the sarcasm in the air but had a feeling that Susan(?) was being serious. “I’m not going to beat around the bush, why did you do it, money, revenge, for the hell of it?” Jackson was hoping that he sounded much more confident than he felt. “All of those reasons, but mainly the second one. My accomplice and I were once sound guys working for an advertising company, we were called in one day out of the blue, asking if we wanted to do a ‘special’ job. They said it may be kind of dangerous but they’d pay alot extra. We accepted thinking ‘how dangerous could a sound job be’ we were wrong, so very wrong! It still haunts my dreams “BARRY SCOTT HERE! BARRY SCOTT, BANG AND THE DIRT IS GONE, BARRNG AND THE DIOTT GEOE!” John burst into tears crying inconsolably for several minutes. When it seemed he was finally getting himself together Jackson posed his next question “How does that explain the dresses?”
John eyes seem to darken a bit more “Well that’s also a result of the ads. When were doing the splicing some of the later ads where Scott didn’t feature as much we spent so much time listening to these women go on about how Cillit Bang makes their lives sooo easy we started to think like them and eventually began to believe we WERE them.”
“That is basically one of the most unlikely and ridiculous stories I’ve ever heard, it sounds like it was written by a very strange thirteen year old, honours English student who’s trying to make some sort of coherent yet ‘different’ story line for an essay, say, two thousand words that he left right to the very last minute and yet I don’t find myself doubting a single word of it.”
“They’re not the only reasons I did it.” John said glancing across at the word counter.
“Let me guess” Said Jackson “You and your mate were being paid by a consortium of household cleaning product producers to take out anyone that was involved with Cillit Bang more importantly the face or more so the voice of the company, Barry Scot, while Cillit Bang has been banned here, it is easy to import from Asia.”
John looked genuinely gob smacked “How did you know that?”
“That was pure guess work at it’s finest.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore because we got him, I saw him fall onto the pavement, I heard him gasp, it was fitting that he die poisoned by what he shouted the praise of so readily, it’s over.” A look of genuine relief crossed Johns face.
“I’m afraid not!” Chief Inspector Phillips burst through the door followed by a small timid looking man in a lab coat. “Scott just regained consciousness and while he’s groggy and has a major headache he’ll be out of hospital in a week.” There was a smugness in his voice that would have madee the bricks in the walls of his house blush.
John’s face crumpled into a mask of despair. “How?”
“That’s what I’m here to explain, you see Barry inhaled so much Cillit Bang while filming the ads that his body built up a natural immunity to it or at least that’s the only logical explanation for it.”
“At this stage logic has nothing to do with it.” Jackson laughed. At that moment his radio began to go off. “Jackson, this is Whelps, we’ve found another guy who fits your description what should we do with him?”
“Bring him in, be gentle these guys are crazy, and for the love of god don’t mention Cillit Bang.”

Jesus Wept

tl,dr.... for me.

Can you sumarise in exactly 13 words?

Ghost Train

The-Rigger wrote: »

tl,dr.... for me.

Can you sumarise in exactly 13 words?

lazy bastard

... yeah i didnt read it either... but i'm guessing its good...

dr.bollocko

I used to brush my teeth with killgate.

Phototoxin

LoLz !

Jesus Wept

dr.bollocko wrote: »

I used to brush my teeth with killgate.

I lol'ed!

















































































































...what's killgate?

Dizzyblonde

In our house it's always been known as Clit Bang - we tend to give things nicknames
The George Foreman Grill is affectionately known as the George Foreskin. We'll say 'throw that steak on the foreskin'
Maybe we're all mad....................................:eek:

Ghost Train

Dizzyblonde wrote: »

In our house it's always been known as Clit Bang

when i read that first, I read "it's" as "I've" lol

Keggers

lol indeed, did anyone actually read it?

Ghost Train

Keggers wrote: »

lol indeed, did anyone actually read it?

no, not yet, might do now, but it just look very long

okay read the first half of it

Dizzyblonde

Keggers wrote: »

lol indeed, did anyone actually read it?

Sorry, it's very long and it's been hundreds of years since I even wrote an essay. I hated essays, they're torture :mad:

Keggers

i dont mind i wrote it for fun (mainly) it's not THAT long, just shy of 2000 words