Oddball, Kentucky. Population: 1,755 souls, and who-knows-how-many monsters. I kill the engine on my battered pickup and grab my rifle. “You got your deodorant on?” Alat nods, then hesitates. “Sure we should be doing this? “Saving innocent townsfolk from terrible beasts?” “That’s a job for the national guard, not traveling salesmen!” I sigh. “I hate to break it to you, son, but our new product line ain’t doing so hot. Without some more investment, we’re broke.” Alat glances at the aerosol spray cans piled in the back—my life savings, gambled on the invention of a crazy hermit. “Maybe we should cut our losses.” I pat his shoulder. “There’s always hope, son. Besides, you think Loula May is cute, don’t you?” Alat chokes at the mention of the Oddball mayor’s daughter. “No! She’s just—” “What?” Alat throws up his hands. “Kind and caring and wonderful in every way, except the ways that are relevant to our situation!” “She’ll look at you differently once you save her from the wolf-squids.” I open the door. “Sally forth!” Alat groans, but he sneaks after me toward the town square. Howls echo in the distance, followed by the slapping of tentacles. My bowels gurgle. Three cans of refried beans before a critical mission wasn’t the best idea, but it was the only food we had. The homes we pass are locked tight—no sign of the evil beasties that terrorize the citizens of Oddball every night. Perhaps they heard us coming and fled. Alat cries out. My gaze follows his pointing finger—straight to the mayor’s house. The busted door to the rear entrance swings crazily on its hinges, and an inhuman shape slinks inside. I charge. A wolf-squid leaps from the shadows and blocks the doorway with a snarl. I fire my rifle, but the beast’s super-fast tentacles whip out and deflect the shot. Something crashes inside the house. A woman’s voice calls for help. “Loula May!” Alat draws his own weapon, a cavalry sword passed down from my grandfather. The wolf-squid leaps. Alat raises his blade and slices through the tentacles as the beast crashes into him and knocks him to the asphalt. Adrenaline surges through my old bones. I leap toward Alat’s prone form. The wolf-squid opens its jaws over my son’s throat. At that moment, my dinner comes due, and the stinkiest fart ever to haunt the streets of Oddball erupts from my behind. The wolf-squid freezes, then whimpers. Its head whips about wildly moments before my rifle hits it. The beast recoils, then screams as Alat stabs it through the heart. I remember one of the legends whispered around Oddball fireplaces late at night— wolf-squids hunt by scent. I have never been more grateful for gastrointestinal distress. I help Alat heave the dying wolf-squid off his chest, then pull him to his feet. “Good work, son. Now let’s go save your girl.” “She’s not my—” A scream. Alat darts forward, and I follow. Loula May wields an oak-handled mop at the entrance to the mayor’s kitchen, standing alone against the wolf-squid crouching in the hall. Tentacle slime makes her weapon glisten as brightly as the legendary sword of King Arthur. I raise my rifle; Alat raises his sword. But before we can strike, Loula May smacks the wolf-squid over the head with her mop. The beast squeals, then turns tail and flees. Loula May turns toward us, half her face aglow with moonlight. She locks eyes with Alat, and they stare silently for a moment. I smile. My son has found true love. “So, we’re, um, trying to save your town.” Alat scratches his head awkwardly. Loula May smiles. “That’s very kind.” “But we have ulterior motives!” Alat blurts. “We, uh, need your father to invest in our business selling Friend Repellant.” I groan. Didn’t that boy learn anything from my stories of how I wooed his mother? Loula May cocks her head. “Really?” “Yeah!” Alat flushes. “It’s not like I cared about saving you or anything, it’s just… we gotta make a profit, you know? So Dad can repay his business loans.” “As you might’ve guessed, my father sleeps like a rock.” Loula May gestures toward the busted doorway. “But you can pitch your business to him in the morning.” I lean against the wall, breathing heavily. Not since Alat’s birth have I had this much excitement crammed into one night. A cacophony of howls echoes in the distance. Loula May tenses. “They’re coming. Help me drag the table out of the kitchen and barricade the door.” “Wait.” Alat touches her shoulder. “If they broke down the door to get in here, that means they’re hungry. If we keep them out of your house, they’ll just hunt down some other innocent victim. We need to stop them for good.” Loula May steps back. Sorrow eclipses her features. “Father tried for years. But no matter how many wolf-squids we killed, more came. All you can do is lock your doors tight and hope they don’t come for you. I learned that the hard way. Everyone in Oddball did.” Alat clenches his fist. More howls, followed by the slapping of tentacles on asphalt. I creep toward the doorway and glance across the town square. Dozens of wolf-squids slink down the street, eyes glowing with bestial hunger. “She’s right, son,” I whisper. “We can’t survive this many. Unless—” The answer dawns on me. There’s one way out— the only way, as sure as Highway 42 is the only way out of Oddball. “Unless we use our product.” “No,” Alat says. “You have to sell that.” “I’ll get it out of the truck,” I say. “You stay here and protect Loula May.” “You can’t go to debtor’s prison, Dad,” Alat stiffens. “Get the truck and get out of here. Find the customers you’ve always dreamed of. I’ll rally the townsfolk. If we stand together, we can—” I grab Alat in a suffocating embrace. “I’m so proud of you.” Then, before he can object, I shove my rifle into his hands and rush into the streets. I creep past the square. Alat fires into the mass of wolf-squids gathering across the street. As one, the pack lets out a spine-chilling howl and charges toward the mayor’s house. The beasties are distracted enough that they won’t notice me unless I fart again. Now, Alat’s fate rests on whether I can retrieve the product before he’s overwhelmed. I reach the truck and throw open the tailgate. Over six hundred cans of Friend Repellant— a truly unique product with no competitors. I know each one of these compressed canisters by heart, having pitched them at sales exhibitions across the country. Today, I’ll finally turn my first profit: 1,755 innocent lives. I throw the key in the ignition and turn it. The engine sputters, then dies. Come on! A second try— and my truck roars to life. I send several trash cans flying as I race through the deserted streets. By now, the avenue leading into the square is so packed with wolf-squids that I can’t see the road. I floor it, hoping to ram through as many as possible, but my tires lose traction on the tentacle slime. The truck spins out of control, hurling me out of my seat. My head cracks against the passenger-side door— then all is still. I groan. A thin trickle of blood runs down my cheek. The window shatters. Tentacles grope at my head. I jerk backward, heart pounding. The wolf-squid shoves its maw into my truck. I fumble in the back seat and manage to grab a canister of Friend Repellant. A tentacle wraps around my arm. I pull the trigger. Aerosolized particles fill the truck cab with a scent orders of magnitude more dreadful than my worst fart. I forget to hold my breath at first, and my nostrils suffer the consequences. The wolf-squid freezes for a moment— then screams. It scrambles backward into the road and runs in circles blindly. I heave open the door, spraying a cloud of Friend Repellant. The other wolf-squids try to flee, but with their dominant sense overwhelmed, most of them stumble into a wall, or tear each other apart in their panic. I grab two fresh cans, reading the flavor labels: Skunk Juice and Rotten Pumpkin. Then I stride forward, wolf-squids parting before me like the Red Sea before Moses. Alat battles heroically across the square. Dead and dying wolf-squids surround him on all sides— but I see the weariness creeping across his face, and a wound mars his shoulder. As his last foe turns tail, he meets my eyes. I smile, and Alat nods in relief. Then he breathes in-- and crumples to the ground, gagging. Loula May beats a hasty retreat inside. A moment later, she re-emerges with a clothespin clamped over her nose. She tosses one to Alat, and another to me. I repay her with a can of Friend Repellant. We spray the entire square while the remaining wolf-squids hobble about randomly. Loula May helps them find their way out of town with a few stout whacks from her mop. For now, at least, Oddball is free of those monsters. Loula May and Alat stand side-by-side, faces flush with triumph and noses pinched. They turn toward each other, making eye contact for a few precious moments. Loula May bursts into a fit of giggles. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s hard to take you seriously with a clothespin on your nose.” Alat chuckles, then walks toward me. “I, uh, guess we’d better get going now. We can’t be late for the next entrepreneurs’ conference. You still have some of the product left. Maybe if we get an investor—” I drink in the sight of the strong young man he’s become, thanking God for his loyalty to me. But I see him cast a final, furtive glance at Loula May, and I know what I have to do. I shake my head. “No. Stay here. Build a life. Don’t be hampered by my foolish ambitions.” “Excuse me,” Loula May says, holding up her canister of Friend Repellant. “This is what you’re trying to sell?” I nod. Loula May laughs. She produces a pen, scratches out ‘friend’, and writes ‘wolf-squid’. “You don’t need investment! Brand it like that, and I can get you 1,755 eager customers.” The End
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Progress on Doombear, Rough draft:10%
Progress on The Lore of Yore, third draft:
100%
"In truth, by leaving, I was seeking only one thing. A journey."
-Oathbringer, pg 981 Types of blog posts:
All
|