Death Street 17: The Circle Tightens

...but his pants weren’t the only thing missing.

“My gun! Dear God – someone took my gun!”

Levitz kicked over the water barrel in front of him. Inside was a single mutant weevil-man. It hissed at him but didn’t seem interested in fighting. And it didn’t have the gun, either.

Time was running short. Behind Levitz, the school was still burning cheerily, casting dancing light across what used to be the tennis courts before the landing had all-but-obliterated them. More weevil-men were scampering across the drought-burned grass – though none of them paid any attention to Levitz. Not anymore. Not since the Great Mother had come.

Somewhere his nemesis awaited him.

Hopefully he hasn’t spilled anything on my jeans, Levitz thought, like cocoa or blood.

That gave him an idea! COCOA!

Running straight towards the blaze, long white legs and buttocks contrasting eerily with the inferno around him, Levitz grasped a hold of the cafeteria door. That side of the building was still intact – though the knob was warm. There isn’t much time!

He yanked the luckily unlocked door open only to find that someone had anticipated him. All the yummy food was gone – including the single-serving chocolate milk cartons!

Now how am I to defeat Nardo?

A sudden thought struck him. He got down on hands and knees. Beneath the counter he saw a few straws and – yes – a few packages were there!

Sugar!

Levitz whooped and stuffed them into the pocket on his dress shirt.

It’s hammer time!

* * *

Anne was still alone – and didn’t like it. A far-away snuffling was coming closer. And back-up hadn’t arrived.

Her hands sweated as she grasped her Glock 9mm. For what wouldn’t be the first time, she wished she had bought a gun with more stopping power.

But magnum ammo is so expensive! 9mm is cheap!

F--- you, unfortunate alternate personality! I need a big-a$$ gun if I’m going to fight big-a$$ monsters!

The snuffling was even closer. The hallway was cramped and the tight duct she was hiding in gave her little visibility. Then she saw it.

My God… it’s huge. I never knew.

Silhouetted in the hallway was a nightmare from every child’s darkest fears. A large, furry elephant-like creature, eyelashes batting as it wheezed in an asthmatic rasp.

Its fatal mistake took place the moment it passed her without raising its head.

In a flash, she dropped from the duct and fired non-stop into its furry brown hide.

“Take that, Snuffy!” she screamed. It started to turn as the spatter of bullets drew blood from a dozen wounds – but the initial onslaught was too much. The great invisible destroyer had lain down for the last time.

With a final rasp, its eyes shut. Anne kicked its massive belly, then spit on it.

“Burn in hell, you magnificent bastard.”

* * *

Now wearing a bright orange modesty gourd stolen from the school’s New Guinea cultural display, Levitz waited outside of Starbucks. Nardo would be here. He could sense it.

Looking down, Levitz decided he preferred the gourd to Levis.

CRASH!

A motorcycle crashed out of a plate glass window! Across the street!

ACROSS THE ROAD FROM STARBUCKS! Nardo was cleverer than he had expected!

Holding his modesty gourd in place, Levitz sprinted after the bike, desperately wishing he had his gun. But it was no use – Nardo was gone.

Gone to the Great Mother.

* * *

It was 2:04AM and Professor Gottleib was still in his lab. If he couldn’t find a cure – no one could. And he knew it.

The animalcules on the slide before him danced in the random patterns he’d come to expect from POG3.

Something so tiny… yet they could spell the end of mankind…

He was just about to look away when it happened.

Two had joined together – then three – then a dozen. They were making a pattern on the slide! Before his unbelieving observation, words were appearing. A network of bacteria were forming a phrase!

"Mein gott! It’s in English!"

Was it a message from the plague? A message from the Great Mother?

What could it mean?

They defied an answer – but remained on the slide.

In microscopic font there stood two words: “Some Pig.”

* * *

Anne pressed against the wall, breathing heavily. The encounter with Snuffy had shaken her. Even though he was dead – it was close – too close.

If he had looked up he could have extended his trunk, reached towards me, and…

She shuddered.

After popping a new clip in the Glock and reloading the old one, she had decided to give up on her wish for reinforcements. Something must have happened to Levitz at the school.

Suddenly a skittering sound forced her into a corner. A blur rushed past – a weevil-man – but he paid her no attention.

Even they know something is terribly wrong here.

As the thought crossed her mind she heard a high, hollow, and eerily child-like voice from down the corridor. “Snuff? Snuffy?”

Oh s---. It’s the monster’s mate!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The sound of awkward footsteps echoed. Then there was a rustling of feathers.

It’s almost here!

She pointed her gun down the hall, hands clenched, teeth chattering.

With a whoosh and a SNAP, it struck from thin air.

Her gun was gone – she turned – IT WAS BEHIND HER!

A huge yellow-feathered ostrich-like face looked into hers and yelped.

“You are not my friend!”

It snapped its beak onto her head and picked her up. She could feel its sharp mouth digging into her scalp as it dangled her in the air.

I’m going to die.

With a splutter, it spit her to the floor. Her ankle turned under her with an audible snap.

Oh dear God I don’t want to die!

As she lay on the ground, blood streamed into her eyes. The beast’s stilt-like legs raised the creature atmospheres above her. It pulled its head back for a killer jab of its terrible beak – then paused.

“Do you know today’s letter?”

Shocked, she shook her head no.

“Do you know today’s number?”

Again she shook her bleeding head.

“D!” it screamed, “And 666!”

Then it lashed out – but something was wrong. Its blow barely glanced her – and in a flash, she knew the reason.

The weevil-man had come back. And it was standing with a syringe in its hand – an empty syringe! It had injected the foul thing with something!

The monstrous bird-beast screamed in agony. “No, no, no! I want to play!”

The weevil hesitated, then started to move away – but not fast enough. In its dying frenzy, the monster kicked in its head with a vicious blow from one of its feet.

The weevil-man fell like a sack of alphabet soup, bursting as he did. And the monster fell with him, thrashing on the ground as the toxin took hold.

It didn’t live long.

When she was sure of its demise, Anne stood up and bent over the dead weevil-man, putting her hand on its mangled carapace. “We could have been friends. Thank you, fallen one. Thank you.”

* * *

Levitz was panting from exertion and he’d lost his shirt. Fortunately, he still had the sugar tucked inside his gourd He had run along the sidewalk for almost 12 blocks, tracking Nardo to the warehouse district where he was supposed to have met Anne hours before.

Now he had a plan. And it involved a trowel, a length of electric tape, and Nardo’s acute diabetes. It wouldn’t cure the plague – but it would end the primary cause – the Great Mother – and her human tool.

Then he heard a woman’s voice.

Anne! And with her – Professor Gottleib!

Thank God. They would do it together.

Gottleib and Anne were staring at him in silence, question marks in their eyes. Anne was leaning heavily on Gottleib.

Why are they staring?

With a shock, he realized that his modesty gourd was gone – and with it – the sugar!

* * *

Deep inside the dark heart of the Great Mother’s lair, Nardo waited. Soon, she would awaken and make him again her portal.

Scattered about the foyer of the dark heart were a variety of old magazines. One of them featured an old borderline-pornographic short story about bikers by a writer who should have known better than to put his real name on it. Just as he settled down to start reading, it happened.

The shrill burn of forced telepathy cut directly into his brain and pulled him up from his chair.

“Naaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrdoooooouuuuuuuggghhhhhh!”

“Yes, oh great mother?”

“Nooooooothiiiiiing,” she replied. “Juuuuuust teeeessssstiiing theeeeee coooonnneeeectiiiiioooon.”

Nardo sighed, sat, and went back to his story. Then, something else happened.

There was a noise outside!

* * *

Anne had thoughtfully taken off her shirt so Levitz could wear it around his waist. Fortunately, her bulletproof vest still generally protected her modesty.

Levitz was certain they were standing beside the warehouse Nardo had entered. Desperately, they tried to figure out a way inside. The massive steel doors were locked – and the walls were made of thick concrete block.

Professor Gottleib jumped. “I have an idea!”

Anne and Levitz turned to him, expectant. Gottleib then grabbed a stick and started hitting the wall with it.

“Open, open, open!” he cried – but nothing was happening.

“Give that to me, you fool,” Levitz yelled, “You’re doing it wrong!”

Carefully, he scraped the stick against the concrete with a wood-carving motion – but it had no effect!

Anne shook her bloodied head. “You damned fools. You should know you can’t do it that way.”

She yanked the stick from Levitz’ hand and broke it on the ground. Then she pulled out her Glock and fired a clip into the wall while Levitz and Gottleib clutched their ears.

The wall, though scarred, still stubbornly refused their persuasions.

“I just don’t get it,” Anne said, “Guns have solved all my other problems!”

A light went on across the street. A man opened a door and stood there, silhouetted by a red glow from inside. He spoke.

“What are you guys doing out here? Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Anne popped another clip in her Glock and was about to open fire.

“Wait!” yelled Levitz, “Let me talk to him.”

Anne reluctantly lowered her gun. Levitz walked over to the man. “Sir, we’re sorry. We’re just trying to break into this warehouse. Any thoughts?”

The man looked at him as if he were crazy. “Break in? Why? I have the keys. When they’re out I’m the guy that feeds the cats and takes the mail in. Here – let yourself in.” The man tossed the keys to Levitz.

Then Anne opened fire – but the man had already shut the door.

Gottleib greedily snatched the keys away from Levitz. “Finally!”

He started hitting the wall with them. Levitz grabbed them back and started to scrape the wall. Anne rolled her eyes and shot them both in the legs.

She was going in alone!

* * *

Nardo stood in the darkness of the outer hallway.

He had definitely heard some noise. It sounded like tapping. Then there was some scraping. And then what sounded like gunshots.

The neighbors must be watching Bonanza.

* * *

Anne had enjoyed more than her fair share of dark hallways. But this one was scary dark. And the edges of it pulled away in a sort of mist – like the outlying fringes of a black hole. She made a mental note. Avoid the edges.

Ahead of her, she could see a dim figure. Nardo?

She didn’t know, only having heard of him from Levitz. Carefully, she snuck closer. He stood there, silent.

What is he doing?

With a jerk, he walked away, into a larger chamber opening to her right.

She followed cautiously. The chamber opened into another, greater chamber.

And there she was! The Great Mother!

Anne gasped. Before her was a great monstrosity. The Great Mother was a loathsome, hundred-foot high pig-woman with rows tremendous pendulous teats. All were attached to hoses, which in turned were hooked up to a great centrifuge.

A milking machine?

The Great Mother was looking down at Nardo. Silently, they regarded each other. Then, as if he had been filled with information and cut loose, Nardo walked out again into the hallway.

The Great Mother looked nothing at all like her publicity photo. There she had looked a bit like Jane Fonda. Not here!

Her eyes were flesh-encased and evil, her naked belly a nightmare. The room stunk of dung and sweat.

But pigs don’t sweat.

Anne quivered. Could it be? Could she be… part human?

The Great Mother had noticed her in the shadows.

With a snap, her brain was violated. "Coooooome clooooooseeeeeeeer!"

She did.

"Whyyyyy aaaareee yoooou heeereeee?"

Anne looked confused. “I didn’t get that. What did you say?”

"Whyyyyy aaaareee yoooou heeereeee?"

“Oh – I got it that time. I’m here… to… to…”

Kill Nardo? Kill the Great Mother? Why AM I here? Oh, that’s right!

“I’m here to SHOOT SOMETHING!”

Anne snapped her gun up and starting punching 9mm holes in the machine.

The Great Mother let out a huge telepathic squeal. "Noooooooooooooo! Thooooooossseeeee weeeeeerrreeeeee eeeexpensiiiiiive!"

Anne whipped the gun around and pointed it towards the Great Mother’s head – but her bullets were gone!

"Cooomeee clooosseeer, dauuughter! Suuuuckle unto thyseeeelf the viruuuus!"

With horror, Anne realized that the Great Mother was offering one her swinish dugs.

“No!”

But she couldn’t resist… in a daze, she walked closer, her mind overcome. The ground around her was flooded with milk, spent shell casings and broken pieces of machinery. She climbed into the Great Mother’s lap. She grasped the teat in her hands.

“Driiiiiiiiiiiink!”

She did – and fell into the deep sleep of infancy. And in the final moment she realized.

I love Great Mother.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

by Vidad MaGoodn


Vacation? I didn’t get a vacation! Are you kidding? An Emperor… on vacation? I frickin’ burned Rome, baby! HA HA HA! July 18th, man, July 18th!

Wait… that’s what Nero did. I get confused.

What did I do? Let’s see…

I guess the first thing I did was plant a garden. I know, it’s kind of boring. But I enjoy it. Watching the seeds come up and feeling all earthy and wholesome and stuff.

But some of those seeds must’ve been contaminated with something. The lima beans seemed okay until about their third week out of the ground. Then they started singing. Honest to goodness. And not anything you want to hear, either. It was all this darn Lynyrd Skynyrd crap all the time. “Gimme two steps, gimme two…”

And I’m like SHUT UP! I totally spent until July screaming at the stupid things all day.

And of COURSE, they glowed in the dark, too. Glowing, Skynyrd-singing beans. It was like I’d planted a pack of stupid in my nice neat garden.

But that was nothing compared to the corn. Can you imagine being next to those dang beans… and having such huge ears? It drove the corn nuts, I’m sure. And that’s why they cracked first.

And Jimmy, before you say “I don’t care,” think about it. Corn is a big, tough mutant grass. You don’t want it becoming mal-adjusted. And doing things like eating songbirds and chucking potatoes through the neighbor’s window. But that’s what it did.

Until the melons grew teeth, then it was a total free-for-all. They started like little babies’ mouths, all gums and no bite… but then they got their incisors. And mobility.

Anyhow, when that happened I got on the phone with Monsanto and I was like “Dude, get me like 1000 gallons of the hard stuff! Time for scorched earth!”

But don’t you know it… the veggies… the THINGS… were listening. I’m guessing the corn tipped ‘em all off. But the vines started coming in the windows and stuff. And I was racing around with a pair of safety scissors, trying to contain the Dark Forces of Chlorophyll Land all by myself. Because, as it always happens, my family was out “having fun” or doing something banal like that.

I guess that’s good, because it kept the kids from seeing me run naked into the melon patch with a chainsaw, screaming vegetable-related obscenities. I can’t remember why I was naked… but of course, I rarely DO remember things like that.

Anyhow, the garden was a wash. But look… I still have a scar on my left calf. Yup, those are bean-burns.

So… since I had to give up on gardening… I decided to do something more relaxing. Like oil wrestling with dolphins.

Turns out… that was a felony. I’m half-out of the tank at Sea World, trying to explain to a cop that “No, I wasn’t trying to make little mermaid babies with my fellow mammal, no, I’m not drunk, no, I realize that my wetsuit is on backwards, yada, yada, yada.”

30 days. That’s what I got. And the chick from Grumpy’s Bail Bonds never showed up. I’d seen her a million times on the billboard, all blonde and pretty and desperately stupid, in the way blond, pretty girls often are… but instead of her coming down to get me out, I got someone named Willy. He squinted. And was totally uninterested in dolphins.

Oh yeah… and I kicked Poppaea in the belly. I’m feeling bad about that still, so don’t bring it up. You didn’t? What, you don’t care? You cold-hearted bugger. If I had any carnivorous melons left I’d stick one in your lunchbox.

Anyhow, that’s pretty much my summer. I think I hung out at a strip mall, too. With Abraham Lincoln, Don Knotts and Bruce Bethke. And Chuck Norris. Well… near Chuck Norris. Not really with.

The End

Best Holiday Wishes!

(card exterior)



(card interior)

Good Luck!

Speechless

Mellon stepped out of the tub into his favorite pair of slippers.

One of his friends once joked that his middle name should have been “Casual Nudity.”

That would be funny if you didn’t know him well. However, he was anything but casual about his nudity. He was downright serious when it came to being bare.

The last time he wore clothing was to his wife Sherry’s graduation from medical school, back in the 80’s. Since then, he’d spent two decades wandering about alone or with her in their two-acre garden in the country. Occasionally friends came by, but his nudism wasn’t always up their alley. Generally, though, they would join in, drinking cold lemonades in the filtered sunlight beneath towering castor bean plants and lush deep green loquat trees.

Mellon had always pictured himself as a modern-day Adam. Thanks to a lucky streak in the stock market that tripled a modest inheritance he’d received from his uncle, a rodeo clown, he was comfortable.

But on days like today, he missed his wife. Her part-time schedule at the old folks’ home left him Eve-less more than he’d like. Any time apart from her was more time than he’d like.

He stepped out his sliding glass door into the tropical sunshine. Lean and fit from his modest intake of booze and vegetables, he enjoyed the feel of the ultraviolet on his bare skin.

Suddenly, he heard a loud screeching and looked up. High above him he saw the black silhouette of a human form being tossed about by a flock of multicolored birds. They were swooping and tearing at it in the sky like sharks would tear at a seal in the water. It would fall, then be swept up again.

The birds were huge. He estimated the smallest of the flock had at least a 20’ wingspan. And they looked… unearthly. Like something was wrong. Something evil.

A hand fell off the form and fell to the ground in front of him.

It wasn’t human. It was… oh gosh, oh no… the hand of Bingo!

Bingo… the gentle ape.

Bingo… the endangered chalupa monkey they rescued on their honeymoon naturist trip to Costa Rica.

Bingo… his wife’s beloved pet.

He looked up. Sure enough – now he recognized the form.

Gently, he picked up the hand. It was warm and soft. He took a small bite.

Leathery, with an aftertaste of banana. Definitely Bingo’s hand.

But… now the birds were carrying the rest of the monkey away. And with it, he knew, a little piece of his wife’s heart.

What would he tell her when she got back?

The birds flew off into the sun. Literally, into the sun. Like water down a drain, they splashed into its gleaming orb, leaving ripples.

Mellon went back inside the house.

* * *

He sat on the sofa, watching the television for a long time. It was off.

His wife opened the door. She was already half-naked. She threw the rest of her clothing in the hamper by the door as she came in.

“Hi sweetie!”

“Hello, darling.”

She was in her 40s, and looked like it, but she was beautiful. She was his and she loved him, and that gave a radiance to her form that no supermodel could ever touch.

How can I tell her about Bingo?

He could tell by her face that Sherry already knew something was wrong. Even though her reproductive system had been removed after their mysterious time machine accident, she still had her woman’s intuition intact.

“Everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“Did one of the monkeys die?”

“Bingo.”

“One of them DID die?”

“Bingo.”

“Oh gosh NO! Bingo died!”

“That’s what I said, darling.”

She fell to the floor and wept. Mellon wept with her, because nothing on earth invokes pity like the sight of a naked woman weeping.

* * *

That night he had a dream.

He was sitting on his grandmother’s lap outside. His love for her was painful because now their life together was running out. Around them the wind whipped. It was cold and gray. Her face drooped on one side from a stroke. They couldn’t talk to each other. All he could hear was her breathing. There was so much to say. And no time left to say it. If he moved, she would fall to earth and never rise again.

A shooting star lit up the heavens above. It was a sign. Grandma’s breathing rattled off as she sank into the earth.

The glowing green grass grew taller as she disappeared.

A dead monkey stood before him, speechless.

Mellon gave him back his hand.

What Happens When You Eat Spoiled Pork?

Not surprisingly, the answer is online!

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_happens_when_you_eat_spoiled_pork

JOB APLACATION REPNSE

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(IM SORRY I DONT HAVE PANTS WHEN I MET YOU FRIST TIME
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-VIDAD MAGOODN