Cosmic Vomit by Don Cheney A multi-media project by Max Cheney Chapter 16 read by Bri
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-Noooo! -I grabbed at the fingers-. ¡Noooo!
The glowing fingers reminded me of my fangs and my other body parts that had minds of their own.
Colin had freaked me out, and now these fingers were out - out trying to choke the life out of us.
-I don’t think I can move now that
’s changed species -I was so sure-. I think that if I live through this, I’ll have a hole in my soul the size of Courtney Love. Chester
I also believed that fingers came in many different colors, just not neon.
Colin was probably right when he said that what fangs I had left were the Courtney Love of my soul. My hands grabbed at the fingers and pried them off us.
-¡Get out of here, you fucking fingers! -I screamed-. ¡Now!
Colin and I both had jam instead of fangs. I couldn’t stop looking at the fingers, because I was sure if I didn’t stop looking at them, I would start singing.
Then the terror that had such a stranglehold on me, started to strangle me.
-Look... look, Colin -I knew that talking to Colin was like trying to make a burlap sack out of a sow’s ear-. My own terror is trying to strangle me.
The heart that had previously been pumping blood, was now burping crud and taking my eyes out and having them for lunch.
Those sacks of shit were probably out enjoying their enormous American freedoms, but I couldn’t even get my own body parts to cooperate with me.
But, as Jim White would say, things is always better than they cerebral.
And fangs is always better than they cerebral.
And, speaking of cerebral, this was pushing me to a part of my brain that was best not pushed into. I’d push back, but I’d probably strain my cranious viscotta.
-Let’s go -Colin told me, trying to be brazen-. We have to get the Haille Selassie out of here.
But he didn’t move me.
Not only did he not move me, he was starting to congeal.
I looked down my pants, and I couldn’t tell if my penis was a penis or a repulsive monster.
-¡Stop it! -Colin griped right at me-. ¡Stop it! -He was trying to be brazen, but he was tiring me out so much, I was looking for an express escalator.
I got on the express escalator and it took me right into... the kitchen.
-¡Oh, no! Not the kitchen. ¡Not the kitchen!
-¡Let’s get some Cheetos® first! -Colin griped-. Then let’s get the Esther Rolle out of here.
Then a creature sporting my fangs came into the kitchen, and it wasn’t looking for a pie, or some dental cream.
-¡It’s here! -Colin was definitely gripping.
We tried telling the creature that the kitchen was closed and that it should come back tomorrow.
-Come back, mañana.
It thought about that for a second, then it pulled out a length of rope. It told us telepathically that it was going to lunge and curse at us.
-Then, ¿what’s up with the rope, yo? -I axed.
-I have to go home and do my homework -Colin said, turning gyro-sober-. You can come too, if you want.
As Colin tried to get us out of there, a whole army of slack-jawed creatures filled the doorway. I could hear Colin praying and told him:
-No praying in my house.
I was interrupted by one of the army monsters, but he didn’t say anything. All he did was breathe.
¿Why aren’t I twenty? If I was 20, I’d be passed out in some bar somewhere. But, no, I have to be 12, thank you. No 20 for me, nope, I’ll just die here before I turn 13.
That was a rude, fucking sound. And every time the creatures made that sound, my blood stopped circulating.
The creature knew what it was doing. It was simply a fucking, rude creature.
I was so scared, my hands were trembling. ¿How could I make them a proper salad?
I could breathe. But I didn’t know for how long.
I could hear. But now there wasn’t anything to hear.
¿What were these creatures doing here? ¿Did all escalators lead to home?
¿Why did they come in the door? That hardly seemed like standard monster practice. They should’ve burst through the door. ¿And why didn’t they ax to come in?
¿Now where’d they go? and ¿What the freaking hell were they doing?
¡I knew it! Not only did they not know how to enter a home properly, they also had no bones, and they probably didn’t know how to set a table.
¡Great! I ground my teeth in the silence. ¡Just great! Now even the monsters were gone.
There were no two ways about it.
I’d have to send out for monsters.
I’d also have to send out for some warm water and a pagoda that wasn’t as lame as the one we already had.
I looked around to see if the monsters were merely playing a rousing game of “peek-a-boo”.
¡My fangs! Some monster had left them by the door.
I almost shat a brick.
I strained my neck like a giraffe, and then jumped on the fangs. The door and the fangs disappeared.
I had the fangs in my hands, and then suddenly all I had in my hands was... my hands.
-¡Fucking shit! -I griped-. ¡Fucking shit!
Now my fangs were probably getting read the riot act, and I hope they’re fucking happy.
I thought that if the earth revolved around something, it was probably a tire or Elle MacPherson. A tire at least had the common sense that God gave the fire monkeys, but my fangs and Elle MacPherson, well, that was another story.
-¡Fucking shit! ¡Fucking shit! -The door itself shrieked, not once, but twice.
And then I heard it. Something was pushing on the door.
With an enormous effort that defied my zafu vasectomy, I made my self get up. I looked around at the school.
-Duh... ¿Where am I? -I heard Colin mumble from deep inside the mess.
-¡Here! -Colin said as if I had just called roll.
And here I was, jumping at doors, contemplating suicide, and wishing I had never been born.
The creatures themselves were hard to describe: pale, black, and they wore straps that could hold down an anaconda.
-¡What crap! -Colin said, in what amounted to a verbal gimme.
Just then, a gigantic soccer ball tumbled - furiously tumbled - hitting the creatures like a doppelganger with a bowling ball, and the monsters went crashing through the door.
-No -I heard my self saying-. ¡No!
-Fuck you -I was sure that that was Colin-. And fuck your fucking house.
I looked at the creatures heads. They were enormous, even bigger than a basketball. And their teeth were held in with Velcro®. I wanted to set fire to every part of them, except their basketball heads.
My heart went out to any creature that had a head the size of a basketball, and teeth the size of alarm clocks.
I felt a little nauseated as I poured gasoline over them and as I shut their eyes so they couldn’t watch. Then I really felt horrible, as I lit a match and served it up like Ivan Lendl serving up some Cup-O’- Soup®.
-They’re almost dead, and they’re not human -I droned in a profound voice-. They’re almost dead, and now they will surely not escape the hell fires of... well... hell.
on to chapter 17 read by Caitlin OR back to Cosmic Vomit