Hilroy Allicard jumped down from the newspaper box. The crowd parted faster than the red sea as he sauntered towards the Crimmons family. He approached them as one would approach scum.
"Why shouldn't we kill you just so someone can wear your boots?" asked Hilroy as if this were entirely reasonable.
"We surrender," said Gary. "We want to join your ranks. The only way to survive now is in large numbers."
"I agree," said Hilroy. "But I already have the numbers, don't I? Why do I need more soldiers?"
"My sons and I are good fighters and survivalists."
"I don't doubt it," said Hilroy. "You wouldn't have lasted even this long otherwise. Are you familiar with my blog?"
"Blog?" asked Gary. "No."
The Crimmons family were some of the last people around who hadn't heard about Allicard and his prophecies.
"Been under a rock, have we?" asked Hilroy.
"No. We've been in a storage unit," replied Gary matter-of-factly.
Hilroy laughed loudly.
"You're funny. It's a shame I have to kill you and your entire family. We just don't need more soldiers. We need more spare sets of boots."
The Crimmons family looked collectively panicked. They got ready to fight, hopeless as it was.
Hilroy laughed again, even louder.
"I'm fucking with you! Relax!" he said. "Can't take a joke. Noted."
"You'll let us join, then?" asked Gary.
"Do you even know what's going on?" asked Hilroy. "All of this?"
"No," said Gary. "I told you, we've been in a storage unit."
"Come along. There are sights to see. Wars to fight."
The Crimmons family fell into ranks as the army marched away from the city.
