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|An unpleaseant suprise....|
|Topic Started: Nov 26 2009, 03:33 PM (206 Views)|
|v_lazy_dragon||Nov 26 2009, 03:33 PM Post #1|
Just thought I'd repost DAWGIE's piece of short fiction from "Who killed Ross?!?" so that folks can find it easily...
you have any idea what it is like to be taking a dump in the elmer, thinking really deep thoughts, when out of the hole across from you, a hungry 12" long rad roach appears? huh? and if that is not bad enough, he brought his mates with him!
so there i was, battered copy of THE WANDERER magazine in hand, admiring the anatomical charms of MISS MAY, gunbelt with holstered weapons, and pants around my ankles, when this huge rad roach crawls out of the hole across from me! he looked at me. i looked at him. he charged straight at me, and i swatted him aside with THE WANDERER! before he hit the wall, two more came up out of the hole and rushed toward with "FOOD!" written across their black buggie eyes!
one latched onto THE WANDERER when i tried to hit him! the other went straight for my tender bits! i grabbed him with my left hand just in time, squashed him against the elmer seating board!
meanwhile the one that was gnawing on THE WANDERER decided paper was not his thing and jumped onto my chest, buggie mandibles wide! damn thing got a mouthful of leather vest in stead of me, so i was able to knock him onto the floor with the magazine.
i dropped the magazine, went for the HAWG-LEGGE TWELVE-SEVEN, clicked the safety, and sent that one to rad roach hell, then shifted targets and blew the other bug to bits and pieces.
about that time i felt something touch my butt, from inside the elmer hole i was seated on! let me tell, that sent shivers up my spine and caused me to stand up! quick as could be, i turned, just in time, and blasted an even bigger rad roach that was climbing out of the shitter with thoughts of me on his little rad roach mind. . . .
seeing movement down below, i fired three or four more shots into the shitter, which made a bit of a mess, let me tell ya!
then the door banged open and there was the local law with his favorite revolving shotgun pointed in my direction. and there i was, splattered with crap, rad roach bits, with my pants around my knees, smoking TWELVE-SEVEN in hand, and a startled look on my kisser.
"WHAT ALL THIS NOW?" demanded the sheriff. he pointed the 18-mm at me and added, "DROP THE DAMN GUN! NOW!"
MAMMA DAWGIE did not raise any fools so, the TWELVE-SEVEN hit the wooden floor with a thud, and i reached for the sky.
"sheriff, let me explain the situation" said i. the bore of the shotgun looked liked the oiled gate to hell if i did anything that made the sheriff "nervous".
"go on. this ought to be good seeing how you just shit the crap out of one of our town's public shitters".
so there i was, standing tall, hands reaching for the sky, caught with my pants down, looking a tad nasty, not smelling too good either when i related to him WTFO was going on.
the sheriff (and his deputy who had arrived just as i started my tale of woe) almost fell down laughing. the sheriff told me to up pants, and stand outside with him while the deputy investigated the "crime scene". deputy gomer or goober or whatever, confirmed my story of self defense, so the sheriff lowered the shotgun and i was given my TWELVE-SEVEN, which i clicked on the safety, and holstered .
i still was not in the clear though; there was the matter of my blowing large chunks out of the public crapper, so we took a walk over to "city hall" where the mayor/judge heard my story, got a good laugh, and fined me for destruction of town property.
i did not have enough caps to cover the fine, but the judge allowed me to stay at the jail for one week while i repaired the damage along with the town's mister fixit, and cleaned out both public elmers for a week in lieu of caps. being nice folks, they allowed me to use the town's public shower for free each day after i got off, and seeing how i was assaulted by the rad roaches, i got me _two_ free suit of clothes, so i could wash the soiled ones each day in a bucket each day, too. nice black and white striped jail bird suits.
but hey, saved my wasteland duds from becoming yuckey! the chow the jail served up twice a day was not bad either, i made some new friends, and learned a new (somewhat nasty and smelly) trade i could use in hard times. do not think there are too many folks around who are qualified to clean the elmer, empty those half sized fuel drums, empty them and burn the contents every day!
|Stormbringer||Dec 3 2009, 03:17 AM Post #2|
|For some reason I can read this along to the tune of "A Boy Named Sue" by Johnny Cash, just made it more hiliarious.|
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