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*** Thirty Years Later ***
A tall lady cleared her throat and the crowd fell silent. She cleared it again, and spoke in a sharp high-pitched voice.
'Those of you who have enrolled in the slug tour will please show me their tickets. Kindly do not make too much unnecessary noise and ensure that you keep your children under control. Thank you.' The flurry of people turned to the woman and began to thrust their tickets at her; it seemed that they all wanted to be the first person to do so.
'Now, really!' She shrieked indignantly, 'One at a time.'
It had been almost thirty one years since the world had been saved by Carlos Brody and nearly sixteen years since he had died. His funeral had been an enormous international event, covered by practically every news channel worth mentioning. Three months later, the 'slug tour' was set up at the North Pole. It commemorated the day when the slugs had been defeated and it showcased the only area where the slugs were still alive. Global warming had caused most of the North Pole to melt, becoming sea, so there was only a small area of ice left for the mutants to survive. They had just continued breeding and living life normally on the small patch of ice they had left. A few years ago, the slugs had created a sort of landmass from dried slug-slime to try and escape, but every time one of them crossed the boundary onto it, they began to decompose: within a minute, they were just a gooey mess on the ground. After 16 years, the 'slug tour' was still extremely popular and continued to rake in money. On this day alone, there were over sixty people present, standing on the hard slime.
'I said one at a time!' Once the lady was satisfied that everyone had tickets, she led them towards the boundary. As soon as everyone was there, she began to explain about what the boundary was and why the slugs couldn't pass over it. The words rolled lazily off her tongue: she had given the same tour every day for five years. Wouldn't you be bored? 'So whenever one passes over, it begins to decay.'
'So why isn't that one decaying?' All eyes turned towards the little boy who had just spoken. He was wearing a faded T-Shirt with a now unrecognizable cartoon character emblazoned in the middle. He couldn't have been more than seven years old.
'What did you say my dear?' The lady seemed to have been filled with a newfound vigour; it was probably the excitement of something different happening for once. The child pointed at something in the distance.
'Why isn't that one decaying then?' Everyone turned around in unison, making the scene almost comical. There was a giant slug about fifty metres away, sliding this way and that on the slime, apparently out of control. Most of the people stayed stock-still, apparently frozen stiff out of fright. Some of the men however, wanting to impress, edged forwards towards it.
'It's coming this way!' And so it was. It was flailing about in all directions, but still making steady progress towards the crowd...
To be continued.