Page 20 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Blah blah blah, mostri ribelli, blah blah blah. We’re right, Mostros are wrong.” Indy flapped his hand to imitate a gabbing mouth. “Blah blah blah.”

The mostri ribelli was a faction of monsters in open rebellion against the Mostro Family’s rule. They presented themselves as heroes who were fighting a corrupt regime, but their actions only seemed to hurt other monsters. Indy had heard about a plague that killed a bunch of weres earlier that year, a recent attempt to blast magical music that would kill monsters who heard it, and there were even rumors about them catching monsters to sell off to the government for secret experiments.

Okay, some of that was probably bullshit, but there was little doubt the mostri ribelli would do pretty much anything to destroy the Mostro Family.

No matter the cost—even to their own.

“Sorry to interrupt what was going to be a fabulous monologue,” Indy drawled, “but you’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a shit.”

Floppy Ears sputtered. “You…! You little…!” He took a deep breath and growled. “We almost have everything we need, you insolent little harlot. Johnson will rise and—”

“Wait, did you just say your johnson is going to rise?”

Floppy Ears appeared ready to combust.

“It’s okay. I have that effect on men. Happens all the time. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Indy flicked his fingers, placing his left index finger over his left thumb. “Unless you actually want an iron rod up your ass. Not gonna kink shame if you do, but—”

There was a blood-curdling scream.

Floppy Ears gasped as the body of a monster came flying by the open door. “What in the…?”

There was another scream.

Another body zooming by.

Floppy Ears bolted out of the room, shouting, “Hey! What is going on?”

“Well, shit.” Indy crept to the open doorway to peek out.

As ready as he was to get the hell out of here, he wasn’t going to run into what could be an even worse situation.

The space was full of long conveyor belts with adjacent work stations every few feet. Whatever was done here wasn’t immediately clear, but it hadn’t been active in quite some time given the dust, rust, and general dilapidated state.

There were at least three dead monsters. Indy recognized them as three of the original six who had grabbed him. The others were currently fighting what appeared to be two human men and absolutely getting their asses handed to them.

The first man was bald and bespectacled, wearing a dapper plaid suit in shades of blue and green. He was as broad and short as the second was tall and thin. The second man was doe eyed and had a big mop of curly dark brown hair. He wore a black-on-black suit with no tie, and his shirt was unbuttoned almost halfway down. There was not a single pop of color except for a red flower on his lapel.

A red carnation.

The first man had one too.

Indy took a step back instinctively because he knew who they were—Mr. Red and the Big Bad Wolf.

Somerstown’s very own serial killers who died years ago but had been resurrected as demons personally by Mr. Heiss.

Okay, no. This was a good thing.

Having Mr. Heiss’s serial killer guys here meant that he or Mr. Kalt must have heard the message and this was a rescue.

Wait.

It could also be that Mr. Heiss simply discovered Indy had gotten out of the house and was really pissed off and had sent said serial killers to kill him.

Well, fuck.

Wilhelm Tanze—that was the tall one with the poofy hair—was absolutely brutal as he tore a monster’s face clean off and then jumped on top of him to beat him with it. The shorter man, Benjamin Underwood, was equally as savage and tore off the other monster’s head. With a nasty little smile, he hurled the head at Floppy Ears.

Floppy Ears caught it, screamed, and then flung it away. “H-help! We need some help down here!”