He steps up to the ticket booth.
Top hat on head.
Cane in hand.
Roll up, roll up.
Step this way, ladies and gentlemen.
Put your best foot forward into the darkness that is your future. See for yourselves the broken promises you’re leaving your children. Immerse yourselves in the punishment that awaits us all.
Have you travelled through sun-scorched snow storms?
Have you run the gauntlet of the starving hordes?
Have you abandoned the sick and the young in exchange for your own, cowardly survival?
That’ll be £35, madam, just sign the form and make your way through the turnstiles.
And you sir, how about the plague camps for you? Today’s offer: two for one and a discounted rations box.
And how about for the family with the nearly two and a half children? Yes, sir, what’ll it be for you today? Regular customers and your family discount entitles you to a free ride on the Age of Artificial Intelligence Experience, our newest offering officially condemned by at least 50 world renowned scientists. They said it shouldn’t be done. They said it would be too dangerous. For just £15 a head you can find out if they were right.
You there, yes, you. The lady in the white coat. A word to the wise, white stands out like a bloody nose to a zombie. A visit to the pre-visit gift shop should sort you out. Today we’re even throwing in the combat belts for free. No ma’am, I don’t know if we do your size.
Don’t forget to leave your waivers in the box on your left on the way in. Just a formality, ladies and gentlemen. Nobody has ever survived to use it in a court of law.
Straight to the Russian Roulette parlour, my dear? It’s not for the faint hearted, but today’s contestants will each and every one of them enjoy a complimentary bandanna.
On your own, lad? Lost your parents? Not to worry, young chap. Off through the gates over there. Yes, I know that looks like a big cave. Plenty to keep you busy in the mines whilst we have a look for your momma and poppa. Lots of other children in there, nice and friendly they are. Looks a bit dirty? Right you are, bit of grit will give you character. Screams? Not sure what you mean, young lad. Chains? Just for your safety, don’t want to be losing you again now, do we?
Everyone accounted for? Everybody through the turnstiles?
I can hear the sweet buzz of chainsaws already.
Let the shows begin.
He pulls out a cigar, strikes a match.
Three quick tokes to get it going.
Blowing smoke rings, he turns away from the screams, walks into the wasteland to round up its remaining skeletons.