The Refined Eternal-alternate ending

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Well. Hello there. You're looking good today. Well anyway, if you're reading this it must mean that you wanna know what this story is about. Well this isn't the story itself. This is actually the alternate ending so make sure you read the full short story which you'll find on my account page. But if you can't be bother to read the story and just wanna read this. Then I'll just say that this is a story about a guy who is a member of a coupon clipping club and the leader of the club now wants him dead. NOTE: THIS STORY MAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER.

Submitted: June 23, 2013

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Submitted: June 23, 2013

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“Remember the good old days when we used to spend hours coupon clipping with the other members. But I saw that fierce glint in your eyes sometimes. I knew you strived to be better than everyone in the club. I knew you wanted to lead everyone. I knew that you wanted to save time. That’s why, I guess, that you wanted to improve your intelligence so that you could work out which deals and different products in shops are better value for money. You wanted to be able to do the sums quickly rather than having to cut out vouchers all the time. Then you wanted to live longer so that you would make a profit from it all after a while. A profit that would cumulate over time. You would become the leader of the club and you wanted to show everyone that you were better than me at scrimping.” Trent bowed his head in shame. “But was 50 years in prison worth it? You probably have around 40 years still left to live, but I don’t think that will be long enough to make a big enough sum of savings for you to have said that it was ‘worth it’. You wasted your life Trent and you will never ever be able to get it back. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying here.”

“Look Trent, the point is that life isn’t worth living for you in my opinion. When you were in prison, I worked to try and rebuild my life again. I re-joined the Super Scrimping club and they elected me their leader once more and now I have come across an enemy that has the potential to take that away from me again. I will not let you do that. I’m sorry Trent but you must die.” As soon as he finished his last word, five cronies appeared behind him. Each of them had a menacing look, of the kind you get when you lose a bet when you were sure that you would win. Trent sized each one up. There was a pretty skinny one, a pretty large one, a normal one, a tall one and a really short one. If he wanted to come out of this alive, he would need to strike first. The short one looked like the best target.

He ran forward and bent low to pick up the short one by the legs but was shocked at how heavy he was. Never underestimate any of them this time, he thought to himself. He then realised how vulnerable he was right now as he stood there struggling to pick the short one up and moved his head back a split second before the biggest one swung his fist at him. The machine had sharpened his senses. He quickly scanned the ground for potential weapons but there was nothing. He would have to use nothing but his fists. He ran and rolled underneath the tall one’s legs just as he went to tackle him. He got up on the other side of him and struck the back of his skull as hard as he could but it made no mark at all. It hurt Trent more than it hurt the tall one and Trent backed away clutching his throbbing hand. These people clearly weren’t human. There was no chance he could beat them. Then he thought of the machine. Would it have survived 50 years? Age would have showed its mark on it but it was Trent’s best hope of surviving. So he ran, the place where he knew it was stored wasn’t too far away, and that’s when he felt the bullets wiz past his face. He turned around and saw all of them running towards him with pistols in their hands. Luckily, he was faster than them but it was the bullets that scared him. One, two, three. They came at him quickly as he ran backwards, facing towards them. His sharpened senses allowed him to dodge the bullets easily but he couldn’t keep this up for long. He was starting to get tired. He was slowing down and they were catching up and he still had a few streets to go until he reached the machine. 50 metres, 40 metres, 30 metres. They were closing in… BOOM! A huge beam of light appeared out of nowhere which temporarily blinded Trent and he heard several people shout in agony. When Trent opened his eyes again, he could see piles of ash where the 5 cronies were previously standing.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I made a few enhancements of my own to that machine of yours. I spent years tinkering down there. Decades of research. I kept my appearance because over the years I realised that appearance can be your greatest ally. Looks can be deceptive. On the outside I have the look of an old man but inside I wield the power of a god!” said Master Clippy as he descended from the sky.

“Y-you can fly and s-shoot white laser beams. That’s kinda scary.” Said Trent in disbelief and fear.

“Yes it is.” Replied Clippy as he flew at Trent. Trent moved out of the way and pushed Clippy to the ground before he could turn around. Trent use this time to run. He turned a corner and another one and saw that he had lost him. The house was just up ahead. He ran into it.

Down the stairs he went until he came to the room. There it was. The machine was glowing as if it had just been used. Probably by Clippy, of course. This was where he would make his final stand. He ran to the drawers one by one dotted around the room and opened them all until he found what he was looking for: a screwdriver. He then ran to the far side of the room and started to unscrew the screws on the radiator. He then heaved and pulled it off the wall and threw it into the machine. He ran to the buttons to turn it on but just as he was about to press the first set of buttons he heard footsteps and turned around to see Master Clippy standing in the doorway.

‘‘So, you thought you could hide from me in this pathetic excuse for a house did you? Trent, you can run away but you can't hide’’ Master Clippy said in a scolding manner.

‘‘Seriously? That's the best you could come up with? That statement is way overused. You've been watching too many Hollywood films my friend’’ taunted Trent, trying to stall Master Clippy as he fumbled with the buttons behind his back.

‘‘Ha. You can joke Trent but it won't hide the fear that I can see in your eyes and it sure won't stop me from killing you. Either way you'll be dead on the ground in a matter of moments.’’

‘‘You wanna bet? I'll bet that in a few seconds you will be nothing but a heap of ashes just like your old friends back there.’’ ‘‘Pfft. Over my dead body Trent’’ and with that he dived at Trent at the same time as the final button on the machine was pressed. Clippy was blasted with a beam of pure heat energy harnessed from the radiator and was incinerated completely in mid-air.

‘‘Hey Clippy,’’ laughed Trent as he went to stand over Clippy's dead body (or ashes),‘‘which is faster: hot or cold? Obviously hot, because everyone knows how easy it is to catch a cold” he said as he sneezed. How ironic


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