83. Not All Together
Amy decides her only hope is to charge the man and hope for the best. She lets out her best war cry and pumps her legs as fast as she can.
“YEEEEAAAAARRGH!”
It actually seems to startle the fellow, whose monocle pops out of his eye, which in turn leads him to drop his rifle.
“Excellent,” thinks Amy, “now I just need to shove him out of the way and grab the rifle, and then-”
Amy draws close to the squatting old man, who looks up and, seeing the young woman nearly upon him, reacts with lightning speed. He reaches to his side and draws a rather large machete from a scabbard Amy had utterly failed to notice until now. In one smooth motion he slices diagonally across Amy’s waist. For a moment, Amy doesn’t notice anything. Then she feels herself sliding to the left and downward, then falling with a Plop! on the floor. Amy looks around, confused, and find her legs standing next to her. She looks down and discovers her torso now ends at her waist. Her lower half turns toward her and taps its foot impatiently. Amy can only shrug, holding up her hands in a “what are you gonna do?” gesture. Her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into unconsciousness.
The next night, the various animal heads on the wall are joined by a new prize: a young woman’s bust and surprised-looking, bespectacled face. Beneath the mounted woman sits a plaque: “The Great North American Bimbo (Endangered by its Own Stupidity).”
Amy is clearly in no condition to continue this adventure or her life.