Duchess Mindy felt concerned. Tonight was to be the night of the year, and it was her responsibility to pull it off. She knew her useless husband would be no help – he was only ever a hindrance in domestic matters.
Just as the Duchess was suffering these negative thoughts of her husband, Ezequiel himself was watching Plebeian Mindy walk toward him from the basement stairs, a tiny gleam in her eyes.
She smiled at him, brightly, as she approached his sitting room. “What can I do for you, Mindy?” he asked tiredly. He wasn’t looking forward to the flocks of women who would be swarming the parlour during his wife’s social.
Plebeian Mindy laughed manically and before Duke Ezequiel could stop her, she had both of her hands wrapped tightly around the Duke’s neck.
The Duke coughed and splattered as he began to turn blue. He tried to wrench Mindy’s hands off his throat, but to no avail.
When Duke Ezequiel took his last breath and sank to the floor dramatically, Plebeian Mindy hardly even reacted.
The Grim Reaper glided dangerously into the room. Plebeian Mindy winked flirtatiously, and wandered upstairs to the ballroom, where Duchess Mindy was greeting her lavish guests.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s beta Mindy’s had strutted into the elegant halls of Farmer Castle, clad in strap-on dicks, sharp heels and, well, not much else. They looked around the extravagant halls of the mansion, and began to follow the music to the ballroom on the second floor.
Duchess Mindy was completely oblivious to the violence occurring below. She was practicing her piano entrance serenade for her guests for the final time before they showed up.
All of a sudden, Plebeian Mindy (whom the Duchess thought was locked in the basement sucking off the monks) appeared out of nowhere and began twerking to the Duchess’s melodies.
“Mindy – pull yourself together”, cried the Duchess. She ushered Plebeian Mindy into her own dressing room and helped her into a simple white gown – nice enough that she would fit in at the party (apparently she would be attending now), but not so stunning that she might outdo the Duchess.
As the guests began to waltz into the ballroom, Plebeian Mindy could hardly take it. She did like the Duchess and she wanted to behave, but so much blood and skin was around her – she needed something sharp.
With that, Plebeian Mindy ripped an ancient decorative dagger off a nearby mantelpiece and drove it through the heart of the closest guest.
As the woman began to bleed out and die, Plebeian Mindy stomped on her, for good measure.
When Plebeian Mindy resurfaced, her elegant white gown – and her face – were covered in the guest’s crimson blood. Duchess Mindy was horrified.
“Duchess Mindy – seize her”, cried one terrified guest. But Plebeian Mindy was too fast.
Before she could be restrained, Plebeian Mindy grabbed an axe of Duke Ezequiel’s hunting display and sliced open the caterer’s head, laughing in glee as her brain juices flowed to the floor.
The next to die was the nanny, who was minding Duchess Mindy’s kids in an adjoining room. Young Monica Farmer tiptoed out of the room, terrified, as the nanny she’d known since birth bled to death under Plebeian Mindy’s gleeful gaze.
She didn’t stop there; Plebeian Mindy ran from room to room, stabbing and carving, slitting and plunging her weapons into the bodies of terrified guests. Screams and cries could barely be heard over Mindy’s hysterical laughter.
Finally Denise, Duchess Mindy’s trusty butler, and the woman who’d be NPC-programmed to monitor the simulation from within, let out her last breath when Plebeian Mindy chased her into the kitchen with a carving knife.
The party guests locked Plebeian Mindy in the kitchen so she could not harm anyone else. Little did they know that more doppelganger intruders were on their tails.
Duchess Mindy, who’d been sent to bed in shock, was rudely awoken by a beta Mindy with a handgun. She took a well-aimed shot, and followed it up with a sword-inflicted stab wound in the chest. Duchess Mindy felt a blunt, agonising pain in her abdomen; warm, sticky blood was oozing out of her and she sank to the floor before taking her last, privileged breath.
Meanwhile, one excited guest had spotted Jezuz swaying down the long gallery, sliding down the blood-stained floor planks in his funky ass sandals.
“The Lord has returned”, the guest preached to the rest of the household. “Jesus has come to save us from the devil woman”.
The man ran to Jesus and sank down on his knees to pray. Jezuz looked very confused, and then drove the same sword into his heart that Plebeian Mindy had used to murder several guests already on that same night.
Jezuz found an axe that Plebeian Mindy had left on the floor. He saw a guest run from him in terror, so he followed her and lodged the axe’s blade in her face.
As the woman sunk to the floor, Jezuz howled with euphoria. He rubbed her blood into his face and licked it off his fingers. He was the lord and saviour of the world. He was the fucking saviour.
That was, until, one of the Beta Mindy’s crept up on him and slaughtered him without a second thought.
But I’m the motherfucking saviour of the world, was Jezuz’s last bemused thought, as he faded from the realm.