Night Of The Trumps!

Night Of The Trumps!
By Stephen A Abell.

Number of Words: 300

"Why do cars always break down on a deserted back road?" She asked dejectedly slamming the passenger door.

"Because they know what scares you, Barbara!" Kevin's impeccable "Night of the Living Dead" imitation warbled as he peered from behind the bonnet.

"I always hated that name and you tease me with it!"

"But you're a star, Barbara!"

"Oh, Brewster... you're so coooool!"

"Touche!" He smiled, "fucked if I know what's wrong, I'm a doctor Jim, not a mechanic! You got reception?"

"No. You?"

"Nah. Looks like we're walking."

"Great, so are we lookin' for a house with an inverted cross painted in blood on it?"

"Only if we can get help there?"

"Which way?"

"I don't know! Didn't see a house back there, doesn't mean there wasn't one."

"God, you're no help! Flip the coin?"

"Yeah, why not(?)"

Barbara pulled a coin from her pocket and called it while it tumbled through the air, "Heads - left"

"To the right then," she announced moving away from the car.

"Let's go die! Let's go die!" They chanted as they marched.

Ten minutes later they spotted glints of moonlight reflecting off glass. Windows. A house.

"Coin," Kevin commanded, "heads - we knock."

The coin flipped.

"Let's go knock."

Barbara was surprised when lights flickered on after a couple of loud knocks.

"Who the hell is it?" The voice boomed angrily.

"Sorry, our car broke down. Do you have a phone we can use to call help?"

"I... er..." Came the slow hesitant response, "yes, just wait a..."

Kevin's foot slammed hard on the door cracking the wood securing the lock. "Good we'll use it after we're finished."

The last thing the family saw were the sneering faces of two Donald Trump masks and the shimmering blades of the oh-so-sharp knives they carried.

For the "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"   by Arakun the twisted raccoon