Day Thirty Seven : Vexillology

Vexillology

Definition

:the study of flags

“Darling,” My mum said doubtfully, eyeing up the living room that had now become a war zone of
multicoloured flags - along with the rest of the house, the gardens and surrounding properties. “Do you
not perhaps think you should reconsider? I mean, it is starting to get a little out of hand...”

“Whose side are you on mum?” I snarled at her. Big mistake. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Watch your tone young lady. I have let you and your brother mess about long
enough i think. You’re both littering, bothering the neighbours and getting on my last nerve.”

“But, but mum!” I said frantically. “If I don't disrupt the symbolic design he is weaving with the layout of
his flags with ones of my own, then he’ll be able to complete his and summoned a demon from the
netherworld and create hell on earth!”

“Enough is enough.” Mum said firmly. “You both need to clear this all up.”

“But mum!”

A fiendish cackle raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I turned to see my shitty prepubescent
brother standing into the doorway, covered in mud, jam and weird pattern scrawled over his face and
arms with what looked like mayonnaise. 

“How many times have I told you to stay out the condiments?” My mum said, exasperated. 

My brother just kept cackling as the flags around us started to glow brighter and brighter, smoking at
the edges as the glare intensified. 

“No more bedtime and vegetables for me!” My brother shrieked triumphantly.  

There was a brilliant flash and the flags went up in a puff of smoke, dusting myself, mum and the
entire room with their ashes.

A large, horned, green skinned demon towered above us. 

“Fear me, oh puny mortals,” he bellowed, “for I am-”

My mother pulled her pistol and shot him through the forehead. The demon blinked, then dissolved
into a puddle of foul smelling gloop. 

She calmly sheathed her gun in the holster at the small of her back. Then turned to us. 

“I am now going to go next door.” She said, her tone so glacial it could have sunk the titanic, “to
apologise for the noise. You two will stay here and clean up. It will be spotless by the time I return.
Do I make myself clear?”

“But mum,” I began to protest, I had been trying to stop the demon after all.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes mum.” We both mumbled.

“And you, young man, we will be having a talk when I return.” 

“Yes mum.” He muttered. 

She swept out of the room. 

My brother and I looked at each other, then went to get the cleaning supplies.