Postralia

[arjunk]

Όνομα Συγγραφέα: Άρης Π

Είδος: ΕΦ

Βία; Υπονοείται

Σεξ; Όχι

Αριθμός Λέξεων: Μικρός

Αυτοτελής; Ναι

Σχόλια: Μία σύντομη ιστορία στην μετα-αποκαλυπτική Αυστραλία

 

General William Boomerang stood proudly atop his decorated emu.

It had been nearly 500 years since the Great Collapse. Electrical energy was a thing of the fabled past, society had crumbled to its most degenerate state... and horses had mysteriously disappeared.

"Men!" he bellowed through his amplifying horn. Such a device was one of the great technological advances that his tribe, the Feathered Jacks, had developed. It allowed for instant communication throughout much larger armies than any other warring party.

Not that there were many left of them, by now. Australia's recent territorial disputes had essentially boiled down to two main forces: the Feathered Jacks, who had blitzed through most of their enemies with their great emu cavalry... and the Red Ones.

General Boomerang shuddered. The Reds may not have his people's ingenuity, but damn, they were jacked. Rumor had it they had chanced upon a storage room of the Old Days, where they had found a mysterious concoction that doubled their muscle gain and tripled their anger. "Steroids", as the legends went. It was certainly probable, considering the miracles of ages past.

But they had nothing on the leg muscles of a well trained emu.

"Today, marks the day, of our final battle! If we take them here, they have nowhere left to run!" Savage shouts arose within his ranks.

"EAT! THEM! ALIVE!" The crowd erupted in bloodthirsty cheers. We got this, thought William. Brain beats brawn. Our past proves it.

The sound of a didgeridoo tore through the air. The enemy had appeared on the horizon.

The great general gracefully turned his emu to face the advancing forces. He squinted. Something wasn't right.

He reallized that the ground was trembling, slightly. How beastly can a man get? Damn the sorcerers of old! Someone let out a scream.

General William Boomerang's jaw dropped. He was awe-struck for a moment, before he regained his composure. "Retreat!" he shouted, "Retreat!"

And we thought we were the ingenious ones. His army had broken formation and were scattered in an effort to run away from their ever advancing foes.

Brain does beat brawn, but nothing beats a combination of the two. It didn't take a tactical genius to see that. Still, Boomerang found the time to ponder, who could have thought such a thing was possible? How vain were we, to think of the emu as the sole answer to our problems.

The sound of the Red Ones was much closer now. The general chanced a backwards glance.

Time froze for him. In an instant, he was face to face with the blade of a very muscular man... that was seated inside the pouch of an even more muscular kangaroo. It was in mid-air.

Our seed is lost, were his last thoughts.