HOME: Heads Will Rock: A chronicle of postapocalyptic mayhem
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Once the battle was over some of the Hellies and Gillies came back with their hands in the air and asked if they could work for us. And they weren't the only ones.

A school bus pulled up and we were joined by Laura and her kid Lucy and the workers from the destroyed Firebuddy factory. Hunkidory and Qwerty and Rosie came too. They'd even picked up Mr. Nothing along the way. He was wearing that Bandit jacket he murdered Burt Reynolds for. And there were faces I didn't recognize. They heard about what I was trying to do and they wanted to be a part of it. Even a convoy of truckers who had heard the news showed up with horns blaring.

That night we set fire to the guillotine. We cheered when the blade dropped because we knew it would never drop again. We cooked over the fire and turned a symbol of death into a source of sustenance.

I got out the boombox and pressed play. John Stewart. Mother Country. Live in Phoenix 1974. Heads weren't gonna roll tonight. Heads were gonna rock.

Dorktown looked at me. "I told you it's not just your dream anymore."


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HOME: Heads Will Rock: A chronicle of postapocalyptic mayhem

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