“The game is on,” reported the first mate, “take a look.”
Captain Jane McCoy looked at the radar screen and saw three blips moving toward them.
“It’s about damn time too. I hate it when they make us wait.” Captain McCoy grabbed a pair of binoculars and headed toward the door. “Let’s go take a look, make sure it’s really them.”
The captain and first mate went out onto the deck. Before either of them could take a look, the first shot was fired and whizzed right past them, doing no harm.
“At least we know it’s not the paparazzi.” Their last time out, the paparazzi had caused huge problems with their helicopters flying above the ship, alerting everyone in the whole damn world to their position. The idea was for the pirates to have to figure out where they are, not have it broadcast on E! News Weekend.
“Go alert the contestants,” ordered the captain.
Before the first mate had a chance to turn around, Ben, the contestants self-appointed leader addressed them.
“We’ve secured our valuables in the vault. Jack is on weapons detail and Diane is getting people into position. Debutante-princess worthless, I mean Priscilla, is too hung over from last night’s booze and Jacuzzi party to be of any use at all. But it doesn’t matter, we’re gonna kick some pirate ass!” You could just tell he played high school football.
“Well you better get going, those pirates are going to try to board soon. Better to keep them off the boat if you can, don’t you think?” the captain suggested, while thinking,
“There’s no way these morons are going to win with this jackass as their leader. Every last one of them is going to bite it. Then again, you’d have to be a moron to go on a reality TV show called Who Wants To Take On a Crew of Bloodthirsty Pirates To Win a Makeover and a Million Dollars?”
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Pests
Caleb woke that morning to the sound of scurrying feet under his bed. He opened his eyes in time to see a medium sized grey rat dash out his bedroom door. His sheets bound him almost like a straightjacket and it took a bit of work to extricate himself. When he did, he made his way to the kitchen but was distracted by a cockroach convention in the leftover pizza sitting on the living room table.
“I have got to call a damn exterminator.”
Considering the early hour, Caleb decided to ditch his pest-infested apartment and wait at the park until a more decent hour to call for help. On his way out he stomped on a few bugs and grabbed his metal detector.
At the park, he followed the well worn path from his car to the picnic area he was going over that week. Half way down the path, the metal detector went off. He put it down and pulled out a small gardening shovel from his back pocket. About a foot down Caleb found five fingers attached to one hand. He dug a bit more and hit the jackpot.
"Jesus, it's a Rolex!" Caleb carefully slipped the watch over the partially decomposed hand, causing the index finger to fall off and beetles to scurry away. "It's the Oyster Perpetual Datejust Turn-O-Graph!" In his excitement, a drip of spittle escaped his mouth and slipped down his chin, landing on the detached finger lying in the dirt. "Shit, I bet I can get at least 30 grand for it."
The decomposing body had started to attract all sorts of bugs, so after placing the watch in his inside jacket pocket he skipped back to his car.
He hummed along to radio while driving home, bobbing his head back in forth to the beat of old Motown songs. When he got to his apartment, he closed all the blinds, turned off his phone and pulled out his trophy.
“Hey dude, what’s up? I’m Jack,” said the rotting hulk standing just inside the door. He held his hand out to shake, but slimy insects fell out of his sleeve and scattered once they hit the floor.
Caleb began jumping around, trying to stomp all the bugs. “Who the hell are you how did you get in here what do you want?” Caleb demanded, the words melding together almost incoherently.
“I stowed away in your trunk, man.” Jack moved in closer and grabbed at the watch. Unfortunately he had already started to decompose and his left hand fell off when it touched Caleb’s arm. “Dude, that’s my watch. My finger totally fell off when you grabbed it, see?” Jack held up his index-fingerless right hand. “That is so cold.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I bought this watch,” Caleb defended, still dancing around killing squirming insects and desperately trying not to breathe due to the stench of putrid flesh wafting off of Jack’s remains.
“Yeah right, like anyone living in this shit hole has the cash for a Rolex.” He looked Caleb in the eye. “You’ve got to destroy that thing.” Jack was completely indifferent to that fact that creepy crawlies continued to escape from his suit, while Caleb’s face turned a lovely shade of purple when one of the larger beetles took up residence in one of his favorite shoes.
“Are you out of your mind? It’s a Rolex Oyster Perpetual Datejust Turn-O-Graph. It’s worth more than I make in two years.”
“Dude, trust me. It’s a total knock of.”
“Why should I trust you? You didn’t even have enough sense to stay alive.”
“You just gotta, man. If you use that watch some bad shit’s gonna hit.” A blinding white light appeared behind Jack, directly over the shabby green and red plaid sofa. “Oh shit, I gotta go. Listen I got that watch off of some street vendor downtown. Some dudes tailed me to the park and tried to lift it. They were talking all weird and shit, like they were on some crazy acid, saying ‘We must keep the communication device from the aliens, we must protect Earth’ or some shit like that.” The whirlpool of white light pulled Jack closer to the sofa. “Then out popped some alien movie shit from that watch and started talking, but them dudes whacked me over the head with a stick and buried me right there next to the picnic bench. Dude, I’m telling you, get a hammer and smash that Rolex.” Every so slowly Jack was sucked into the light and disappeared with a pop.
“What an asshole, like I’m going to listen to him.” Swatting flies from around his head, he pulled the watch over his hand and checked himself out. “Nice. Oh crap, it’s almost noon and I haven’t called the damn exterminator yet.”
Before he could reach for the phone a hologram of a little green man appeared over his living room table.
“Thank you for choosing Mars Exterminations. Please stand by for our experts to rid you of your pest problem.”
For a brief moment Caleb was pleased to have extraterrestrial exterminators to assist him.
“I have got to call a damn exterminator.”
Considering the early hour, Caleb decided to ditch his pest-infested apartment and wait at the park until a more decent hour to call for help. On his way out he stomped on a few bugs and grabbed his metal detector.
At the park, he followed the well worn path from his car to the picnic area he was going over that week. Half way down the path, the metal detector went off. He put it down and pulled out a small gardening shovel from his back pocket. About a foot down Caleb found five fingers attached to one hand. He dug a bit more and hit the jackpot.
"Jesus, it's a Rolex!" Caleb carefully slipped the watch over the partially decomposed hand, causing the index finger to fall off and beetles to scurry away. "It's the Oyster Perpetual Datejust Turn-O-Graph!" In his excitement, a drip of spittle escaped his mouth and slipped down his chin, landing on the detached finger lying in the dirt. "Shit, I bet I can get at least 30 grand for it."
The decomposing body had started to attract all sorts of bugs, so after placing the watch in his inside jacket pocket he skipped back to his car.
He hummed along to radio while driving home, bobbing his head back in forth to the beat of old Motown songs. When he got to his apartment, he closed all the blinds, turned off his phone and pulled out his trophy.
“Hey dude, what’s up? I’m Jack,” said the rotting hulk standing just inside the door. He held his hand out to shake, but slimy insects fell out of his sleeve and scattered once they hit the floor.
Caleb began jumping around, trying to stomp all the bugs. “Who the hell are you how did you get in here what do you want?” Caleb demanded, the words melding together almost incoherently.
“I stowed away in your trunk, man.” Jack moved in closer and grabbed at the watch. Unfortunately he had already started to decompose and his left hand fell off when it touched Caleb’s arm. “Dude, that’s my watch. My finger totally fell off when you grabbed it, see?” Jack held up his index-fingerless right hand. “That is so cold.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I bought this watch,” Caleb defended, still dancing around killing squirming insects and desperately trying not to breathe due to the stench of putrid flesh wafting off of Jack’s remains.
“Yeah right, like anyone living in this shit hole has the cash for a Rolex.” He looked Caleb in the eye. “You’ve got to destroy that thing.” Jack was completely indifferent to that fact that creepy crawlies continued to escape from his suit, while Caleb’s face turned a lovely shade of purple when one of the larger beetles took up residence in one of his favorite shoes.
“Are you out of your mind? It’s a Rolex Oyster Perpetual Datejust Turn-O-Graph. It’s worth more than I make in two years.”
“Dude, trust me. It’s a total knock of.”
“Why should I trust you? You didn’t even have enough sense to stay alive.”
“You just gotta, man. If you use that watch some bad shit’s gonna hit.” A blinding white light appeared behind Jack, directly over the shabby green and red plaid sofa. “Oh shit, I gotta go. Listen I got that watch off of some street vendor downtown. Some dudes tailed me to the park and tried to lift it. They were talking all weird and shit, like they were on some crazy acid, saying ‘We must keep the communication device from the aliens, we must protect Earth’ or some shit like that.” The whirlpool of white light pulled Jack closer to the sofa. “Then out popped some alien movie shit from that watch and started talking, but them dudes whacked me over the head with a stick and buried me right there next to the picnic bench. Dude, I’m telling you, get a hammer and smash that Rolex.” Every so slowly Jack was sucked into the light and disappeared with a pop.
“What an asshole, like I’m going to listen to him.” Swatting flies from around his head, he pulled the watch over his hand and checked himself out. “Nice. Oh crap, it’s almost noon and I haven’t called the damn exterminator yet.”
Before he could reach for the phone a hologram of a little green man appeared over his living room table.
“Thank you for choosing Mars Exterminations. Please stand by for our experts to rid you of your pest problem.”
For a brief moment Caleb was pleased to have extraterrestrial exterminators to assist him.
Lazy
Yeah, lazy's my middle name. I'm finally getting around to this blog again. The holidays really took it out of me, but now, I have no excuse. The little princessess are back in school and I need to get cracking. I've been working on some things lately...some flash fiction and, my forever work in progress, a smutty romance novel. I've actually got one chapter finished and another one just about finished. My flash stories have been taking up more of my time though, because they're so short they're almost more fun to write. That, and I write in a completely different style (I have a penchant for stories about rotting, decomposing bodies...) Enjoy.
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