NOTES
* Although I have been making slow occasional progress on other projects
like 'Elements of Command' and 'Lando Calrissian Modestly Saves the
Universe,' this is the first fan fiction I've written and completed since
Wilderness came out. (Episodes of UF: Twilight notwithstanding.)
I began this story initially for two reasons. First, I was thinking about
entering the AnimeFEST! fan fic contest and I needed a short story. (For
me, this is short. Deal.) Second, with Gryphon moving forward on UF:
Symphony of the Sword, I felt that it was high time we had a glimpse of
Redneck and Washuu in the 25th Century beyond the epilog of Wilderness.
Third, I had this story idea floating around for about five years with
nothing to show for it.
So, in three rushes, I let the fingers flow over the keys, and a story came
out. The story ended up double the maximum size for the contest- so much
for that!- and it'll probably grow a little more before the final version
appears at www.eyrie-productions.com, but I'm happy with the general
outline of it and am now ready to do some tinkering, with the help of
anyone who cares.
* This is still a rough draft and not final release. The work has yet to be
thoroughly vetted by the Eyrie Usual Suspects.
* Please send any and all C&C -privately.- Save the bandwidth for more
stories.
* Flames about self-insertions, Neon Exodus Evangelion, Symphony of the
Sword, etc. etc. etc. routed to dev/null .
All that said, enjoy the show. - Redneck
DECEMBER 17, 2404
APPROXIMATELY 80 MILES NE OF HOUSTON, REPUBLIC OF TEXAS,
EARTH ALLIANCE
The house, as he'd expected, was a royal mess.
Retired Admiral of the Fleet Kristan Oren Overstreet, CFMF,
currently test pilot for Cygnus/Bell's X-1 Starlance project, looked
out the lab-door and up at the large hole in the dining room roof. The
chill December air of an early Texas morning blew through the room and
out again by way of the shattered windows in the kitchen, tugging at
Kris' beard and stirring the deep piles of leaves and pine needles
strewn on the carpet. A test of the light switch established that yes,
indeed, something had gnawed through the power lines again, and the
fusion plant would have to be reconnected to the house and well before
anything else could be done.
He didn't even want to think about the pantry.
The Redneck pulled his brown jacket closer around him, zipping it
up and sticking his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the damage. In
summertime he might have fixed it himself, but with just a week to
Christmas he refused to spend hours in drizzly weather with highs only
in the mid-40's on a rooftop replacing tin and two-by-fours. After all,
now he had a wife with a flunky to do those things.
"Honey?"
A short young woman with brilliant red hair done up in an
eclectic array of spikes, bun, and ponytail stepped out of the lab
door, looking as usual like a large crab riding atop a private school
student's head. "Did you change your mind, Kris?" Washuu asked
hopefully.
"No, I didn't," Kris sighed. Washuu had transformed from mad
scientist to manic hausfrau since moving to New Avalon, and she took a
perverse delight in shoveling five miles of driveway buried under a
foot of snow (on average) every morning. "Tell Zathras I have a few
chores for him."
"Zathras hears," a raspy voice, soaked with a mixture of misery and
eagerness, rattled from within the lab. Taller than Washuu, marginally
shorter than Kris, and hunchbacked, the shaggy, shabby form of Zathras
wobbled his way out into the living room. After a moment's glance, he
added, "Zathras thinks Zathras' vacation is not going to be as restful
as Zathras had hoped."
"'Fraid not," Kris smiled. "I need the fusion plant on-line, the
power reconnected to the house and defense perimeter, the water turned
back on, the roof patched, and the living room cleaned, in that order."
A soft slithering sound came from the leaves at his feet, and Kris had
to fight every instinct to jump as a large diamondback rattlesnake
crawled across his shoe. "And while you're at it-"
"IRVING!" The new voice caught everyone's attention, including
the snake; it raised its head, looked towards the door, and made a
beeline for it as a tiny girl with deep pink hair pushed her way
through the door, arms opened wide at the rattlesnake. None of the
three adults looked the least bit surprised as the snake reared up,
leaned into the hug, and curled its excess length around the girl in a
loose, loving caress.
"You know," the Redneck drawled for the two hundred twenty-
seventh time in the past three years, "I wonder if they sell tickets to
the world Wapiko lives on..."
I have a message from another time...
WHITE LIGHTNING PRODUCTIONS
in association with
EYRIE PRODUCTIONS, UNLTD.
presents
a story of Undocumented Features
WAPIKO LOVES GAMERA
(An Overstreet Family Christmas)
Introducing a new fanfiction star
GAMERA
as himself
******
It took a little sweet-talking from Wapiko, but in about fifteen
minutes' time every snake, mouse, raccoon, opossum, ornitholestes,
centipede, scorpion, ant, wasp, termite and flea was marching in single
file out the front door. The cold-blooded creatures of the group would
find new quarters in the barn, where (by some miracle, or Wapiko area-
effect) they would settle down peacefully for their winter hibernation.
The mammals and dinosaurs of the group (including the large ankylosaur
who tended to sleep on the front porch) would stick around, playing
happily with Wapiko and keeping her fully occupied.
The Redneck wasn't the least bit worried about Wapiko. Back in
New Avalon, finding a babysitter tended to be problematic... not to
protect Wapiko, but to protect everyone else in New Avalon -from-
Wapiko. The four-year-old girl had a top running speed close to Mach
One (and getting faster all the time) and a level of indestructibility
that put Kris' own regeneration to shame. A girl who could run through
foot-thick brick walls without breaking stride had to be watched
constantly.
So far, the only prospective babysitters able to keep up had been
the universal babysitters of New Avalon, the Rose family. Eiko was
faster and stronger than Wapiko (for the moment, Kris thought with a
shudder) and well able to turn corralling Wapiko into a game. When Eiko
wasn't available, Martin made a patient and versatile second choice.
Unfortunately, the two weren't available all the time; Eiko now
taught elementary school, and Martin worked long and unusual
hours with the CID. When those two weren't available, the Overstreet
family had to look long and hard for substitute sitters who, after one
experience watching over Wapiko, either charged exorbitant rates or
refused the service altogether. The teenage scions of the Rose,
Hutchins, Morgan, Daniels, and Utonium families all had at least one
Wapiko Horror Story to their name, starting with Kaitlyn's trip to the
petting zoo with two-year-old Wapiko... which had ended in disaster when
the entire zoo tried to follow Wapiko home.
Nor could Kris rely on his houseguests to watch the little pink
dynamo. In November, when Wapiko had dragged Mayl Popp'fl from the
house to the ice cream parlor- a twenty-mile trip, made in seven
minutes and through eighteen walls and seven fences- Mayl and Rianna
had decided to take a break from the Overstreet home. Thus, instead of
accompanying the family to Texas for Christmas, the privateers had lit
out for Deneb Sector, precise location unknown.
Out here, however, the only residence for six miles in any
direction besides his own was the old Jordan homestead a few hundred
yards away, still inhabited by descendants of Kris' great-aunt. Aside
from trees and the occasional oil well, there wasn't anything for
Wapiko to smash, break, trample, fold, spindle, or mutilate. The larger
and more intelligent creatures that stayed near the house- like Fred
the ankylosaur- would give warning in the unlikely event that Wapiko
met something she couldn't charm.
The lights snapped on almost at once, the soft hum of the
perimeter fence energizing fading quickly into the background. The
fence wasn't intended to keep out humans or mid-sized animals; it was
intended to discourage the really large critters, like the iguanadons
or the occasional tyrannosaurus wandering the piney woods. The 10,000
volt barbed wire served as a mild attention-getter to such large
creatures that the homestead was not to be trod upon.
With power restored, Wapiko playing gleefully in the front yard, a
loud hammering echoing from the roof, and Washuu hauling presents in
from her lab, Kris flicked on the satellite-relay television to catch
the Republic of Texas' news channel.
"... this is RTN. Our top story tonight, a mutated pteranodon is
terrorizing fuel refineries in the Galveston Bay area. Citizens of
Galveston, Brazoria, Harris, Chambers, and Liberty counties are to be
on the lookout for this creature, shown here setting fire to an
abandoned petroleum refinery in Lake Jackson."
The creature looked vaguely like a pteranodon, if you made the
head wide with points on the sides. Indeed, the creature looked boxy
and awkward on the ground, its angular wings flapping for balance as
the creature kicked in rusted storage tanks with its short, clawed
legs. From the scale of it, the creature was no less than eighty feet
tall, perhaps as tall as a hundred.
"Preliminary efforts to subdue the beast by the Texas Army and
Earth Alliance forces have met with no success," the broadcaster
continued. "Officials advise the public to avoid the creature, which
they have codenamed Gaos, until such time as larger forces may be
brought in from the United States sector.
"In other news, Houston Mayor Walter Hobbs has been indicted for
the third time on charges of malfeasance in office. Hobbs, having been
acquitted twice of such charges, expressed confidence that-"
Kris flipped the channel, looking for sports. Nothing important on
the news, obviously; monsters cropped up in the rural Badlands all the
time, even a century and more after the Fourth World War, and Houston
had become synonymous with corruption. Definitely a slow news day.
Outside, he heard the soft engine of a ground vehicle; he paid it
no mind, resolving to get up later and check the box for mail.
It didn't sink into his head for nearly an hour that the engine
sound was not that of a Texas Postal Service rural delivery tank.
The engine belonged, in fact, to a broken-down pickup of
decidedly mixed breeds. The front end had begun life as a Nissan, the
payload bed was Ford make, the engine was Daihatsu-Stingray, and the
armaments were Kalashnikov. Two former highway bandits sat in the cab,
driven off the highways and into the back woods by the guns of the Texas
Rangers. The hood of the truck trembled slightly, the poorly tuned
microfusion power plant rattling in its rusted mounts. All in all, the
truck was a pathetic sight, and its drivers even more pathetic than
that, one tall and skinny, one broad and chunky, both gone beyond
desperation into quiet, forlorn acceptance.
They paused on the mixed asphalt and dust which marked the
ancient highway in front of the Overstreet compound, staring at the
compound they'd planned to use as a hideout for the winter, watching the
new occupants make it homey once again.
"Well, -Jeez,-" the driver (the tall one) grumbled, slapping the
steering wheel in frustration. "I thought you said the place was
abandoned."
"Well, nobody lived in it for three years, what was I supposed to
think?" His companion's gravelly voice managed to squirm even more than
his body did at his partner's agitation.
"Well, Charley," the driver whined, his high tenor voice sliding
through vowels like a swoop racer in a chicane, "you've really done it
to us this time. We come twenty miles away from anything, running on
vapors, because you know of a recently abandoned building..."
"Well, I'm sorry..."
"Well, yeah, but 'Sorry,' um, it isn't going to do any good,
Charley," the driver whined. "Now we'll have to find some centuries-old
snake trap again like last year, and God knows where we'll find one out
here."
"Well, I'm -sorry-."
"Yeah, yeah," the driver shrugged. He turned his attention back to
the house, the strange-looking person banging on the roof, the little
girl playing with the dinosaur in the yard, the figures barely visible
inside moving around. "You know, it must be some really stupid people
moving out here in this part of the Badlands, y'know Charley?"
"Yeah, Harv," Charley nodded. "Stupid and rich. That perimeter
musta cost a fortune."
"Yeah, it would," Harvey nodded slowly. "Stupid... but rich...
y'know, Charley, I think I might have an idea..."
Wapiko looked up from her tic-tac-toe game with the ankylosaur to
see the homely man looking down at her. "Hihi!" she smiled, standing up
and bowing to him. "I'm Wapiko! What's your name?"
"Um, I'm Harvey," the thin, unshaven man smiled at her. "I'm kind
of lost around here. Can you show me where the nearest store is so I
can fill up my truck?"
Wapiko, in a strange oversight on the part of her parents, had
never had the Strangers talk. Thus, suspicion never dawned in her sunny
little mind that the strange person in forest camouflage clothing might
wish her ill. "Sure! It's about fifteen miles that-a-way!" She pointed
southeast, not quite in line with the highway.
Harvey nodded. "Couldja come with us and show us how to get
there? I'm sure your folks wouldn't mind you helpin' people out."
Wapiko nodded. "Sure!"
As Wapiko skipped along with Harvey to the truck, Fred looked up
from his seventh tic-tac-toe in a row and watched Wapiko leave.
This, thought Fred, will lead to no good.
The old truck lurched forward, its rickety transmission grinding
loudly as Harvey coaxed the pickup down the road. In between him and
Charley sat Wapiko, bouncing in her seat, enjoying her neat ride.
"So, Wapiko, I'd like ya ta meet Charley," Harvey said, gesturing
to the occupant of the shotgun seat.
"Hihi Charley!" Wapiko smiled cheerfully at Harvey, who smiled
back a bit uneasily.
"Nice ta meetcha," Harvey said. "We're gonna be seein' a lot of
each other th' next few days, huh Wapiko?"
Wapiko nodded happily, stopping only when her young, sunshine-
flooded mind detected the first notes of an inner warning bell. "Why's
that, Mr. Charley?"
"Well, Wapiko," Charley smiled, scratching the back of his head
nervously, "we, ah, well, we're actually-"
"IX-NAY, Charley," Harvey growled, to no effect.
"- kidnappin' yas, see. We're gonna hole up a few days in the
woods, tell your folks we got ya, and we'll ask for a bunch of dough ta
return yas."
A shadow passed over Wapiko's lavender eyes, and the sunshine in
her happy mind fell behind a cloud. "You're... kidnappin' me?" she
asked, uncertainly.
"It's not like we're gonna hurt ya or nothin'," Charley rambled
on, not catching his partner's urgent motions to cut off the
conversation. "We'll just lock you up somewhere, like, say, in a
closet, we'll feed ya every day, and when your folks get worried-"
"Mommy an' Dad worried?" The clouds in Wapiko's little universe
were growing darker by the second.
"well, once they pay up, we'll return yas, nice an' happy all
over again," Charley finished. "In th' meantime, we can play house an'
have all sorts of fun together, huh Wapiko?"
Wapiko's eyes began to tear up, as in her little world, the
thunder rumbled. "You... you're gonna make my parents WORRY," she
whimpered. "You're gonna make 'em SAD!" She stood up in the seat, head
brushing the top of the cab, and screamed, "YOU'RE MEAN PEOPLE! I DON'T
LIKE YOU! WWAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"
"Get her to sit DOWN, Charley!" Harvey hissed, trying to keep his
eyes on the road. When Charley didn't move fast enough, he grabbed
Wapiko's arm and tugged, then tugged harder when the four-year-old
didn't sit down as he'd expected.
Wapiko screamed even louder, yanking her arm away with a strength
that slammed Harvey forward into the steering wheel. The truck lurched
to the right, running up into the ditch, and as it brushed against the
dense thicket lining the road Wapiko leaped forward, smashed through the
dashboard and windshield, kicked the engine block into the dirt below
with one mighty leap, and ran. Centuries-old trees toppled down around
her as she cried and squalled, speeding away from her would-be captors
at high speed.
The truck's fusion plant, no longer connected to important things
like the transmission, the drive train, or the coolant system, shut
itself down and safed itself, steam rising from its surface where
coolant splashed freely from the radiator. Charley, hanging through the
shattered windshield, groaned and muttered, "Harv, I think my arm's
broken... Harv?"
Harvey, thrown completely out of the truck and into some poison ivy
on the embankment, was too busy communing with the tweety birds to give
Charley any answer, which was probably for the best.
raprapraprapWHAM! *thump*
raprapWHAM! *thump*
rapraprapWHAM! *thump*
rapraprapraprapWHAM! *thump*
Kris sat back and relaxed in his slightly weathered easy chair,
ignoring the snake (who, missing Wapiko, decided to hang around a human
Wapiko liked instead). He'd bought a seven-volume series of novels by
Gem Norren, the best-selling Rigel Belt Pirate series, about a young man
who goes from cabin boy to undisputed leader of the various pirate
clans of the Rigel system's three asteroid belts. He expected to spend
a nice, long, quiet month reading and re-reading those seven books,
beginning with the one in his hands, 'Mr. Midshipsman Forester.' If he
liked them (as he expected to), he'd pick up the newest book, 'Lord
Forester' in hardcover when he returned to New Avalon.
He'd gotten about twenty pages into the book, about the point
wherein Cabin-Boy Forester challenged an abusive lieutenant to a duel,
when the loud chuff-chuff-chuff of a large fusion engine caught his
attention. Blinking, he set his book aside and shooed away the
rattlesnake (who, disappointed, crawled into the kitchen, where Washuu
caught him and sent him to the Lab, where he lived out a happy, carefree
and rat-full existence). Looking out the window, the Redneck saw the
Fargo-class light-armor tank at the mailbox, the words RURAL DELIVERY
emblazoned in big black letters against its side.
The Fargo-class tank, designed and built by the Ozaki Works of
Zardon, was a follow-up to the near-ubiquitous Napoleon class micro-
tank. Like the Napoleon, the Fargo had been designed for urban warfare,
but it was built more as an armored transport rather than a tank. The
lightly armored tank had proven ideal for worlds where armored transport
and large guns were recommended when traveling. The rural areas of North
America, with neo-dinosaurs running wild since the third World War, fit
the bill to perfection. The model was soon licensed for manufacture on
Earth, where it was known as the 'Wells Fargo' for its primary purpose;
armored delivery service.
More to the point, a Fargo had a very large power plant, with a
much deeper roar than the soft rattling sound the Redneck had heard...
just -how- long ago?
Kris rushed out to the road, jumping over an agitated-looking
ankylosaur, just missing the tank as it drove off down the road to make
more deliveries. The box, he noted idly, was three-quarters full of junk
mail and 'OCCUPANT' sales brochures, to which had been added a new flyer
from the department store at Fort Livingston. A brief check of the dust
and dirt on the road proved futile; the mail tank's treads had torn up
all the old tracks, making any identification of the earlier vehicle
impossible.
"Wapiko?" Kris looked around, noting the absence of pink-haired
little girls and swarms of critters playing with same. He dashed up
into the yard, shouting louder, "WAPIKO!" He looked around, noting the
absence of freshly-downed trees; apparently Wapiko hadn't taken it into
her mind to go jogging, so she -should- have been within sound of his
voice. After a few moments of near-silence (whapwhapwhapWHAM! *thud*),
Kris tried for alternative number two. "ZATH-RAAAAAS!!"
whapwhapWHUD! "ACH, ach, ach!" *thud*
"Zathras, have you seen Wapiko in the last half hour?" *thud*
"Zathras is very sorry," *thud* "but Zathras has not seen
anything besides nails, and tin, and," clickclickclick, *thud* "and
this hammer. Zathras was not around when they lined up for X-ray
vision, Zathras is afraid." *thud*
"Could you stop that hammering for a moment?" *thud*
"Zathras -has- stopped hammering." *thud* "Zathras thought that
was you or Great Professor Washuu." *thud*
"Well, it's not me," the Redneck shouted, as the next *whud* came
down not on the porch but, instead, on his toes. "OOOWWWWW!!!"
Having finally gained the human's attention, Fred the ankylosaur
tried to communicate, using a combination of bleats, beats of his club-
tail, and body language that Wapiko had gone off with some unsavory
characters.
The Redneck looked down and saw Fred point his tail to the road,
say, "Wrrruuuuaaaaaa," and attempt to skip merrily with his front legs.
The house shook slightly under his heavy feet.
"Fred," Kris sighed, "I know you're trying, and I appreciate the
thought, but I don't have -time- to play 'Little Timmy Fell Down the
Well Lassie?' right now." Rushing back into the house, he shouted,
"WASHUU?"
"Just a moment, dear," Washuu said, teleporting a surprised-
looking snake in an energy bubble into the Lab, "what is it you're
shouting about?"
"Wapiko's disappeared," Kris gasped. "I think she's been taken
somewhere. I'm going to check the woods, you search the road." Without
waiting for acknowledgment, the Redneck leaped out the front door
again, dashed behind the house and vanished into the thicket.
For a long moment, Washuu stood motionless, the shock of having a
child go missing hitting her for the first time. Usually, when Wapiko
ran off somewhere, you could locate her by following the trail of
debris. If there was no wreckage... it -had- to be foul play.
That meant, of course, a thrilling and dramatic parental rescue.
Washuu chuckled. Liking the sound of it, she giggled. Liking that
more, she laughed maniacally, hands on hips. "HA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This
is the PERFECT chance to test out my latest creation! To the Lab! It is
time for the Red Avenger to make her debut!"
So saying, she marched to the lab door and strode through, the
crab-chime clattering behind her as the door closed on one last
demented laugh.
It, in a former life, had been a snapping turtle.
At least, It's mother and father had been snapping turtles, but
that had been about one hundred thirty years ago, when stray radiation
and chemical fallout from the Third World War had done strange things
to a certain turtle nest, things that only allowed one egg to survive
to hatching.
His early life had been, like that of most baby turtles, hazardous.
Certain strange and curious mutations brought on by the great wars gave
It an advantage most baby turtles didn't have, though. Most snapping
turtles didn't breathe fire or fly, and their growth rate during infancy
ran somewhat slower than a foot a day. Little things like this tended to
discourage predators until It had attained his full growth, roughly the
size of a medium-size space freighter.
It no longer needed food, now that his growth was complete; It
tended to rouse itself only during forest fires, when he would rise up
from his hibernation and land in the hottest part of the blaze, feeding
on the warmth. The most recent fire had been a mere six years ago, and
It wasn't even feeling peckish; he was, in fact, enjoying pleasant
dreams involving, for reasons It didn't understand, cheering humans,
marching bands, and poor quality dubbing.
It was quite intelligent, as giant monsters go, and when he first
stirred to wakefulness beneath the ancient beaver pond, It correctly
interpreted the random crashing of tall pines to earth as something out
of the ordinary. He'd slept through a logging crew forty years ago,
knowing them for who they were, but trees falling without storm or
machine didn't fit into his general view of how the world worked.
Slowly It shifted himself beneath the pond, moving
his immense head out of his shell and listening to the sounds of
destruction. Through the water and mud, in addition to the falling trees
(which were growing closer, curving towards It from the south) he could
hear footsteps, rapid, powerful footsteps. And was that... howling?
Crying? It couldn't be a human child, and yet�?
*SPLISHWHOOOOOSHBLUB.*
That sound had been something hitting the surface of the pond
unexpectedly at high speed, skimming along the surface for about half
the pond's length, and then sinking into the murky water.
It lifted itself up out of the water and curled his head as far
back over itself as it could go for a better look. Sliding off his
shell, covered in pond-muck and wearing clothes somewhat the worse for
wear, a little girl gasped for breath, coughing up a bit of water and
moaning disconsolately.
The girl splashed back into the beaver pond beneath It; he reached
down, very carefully caught a bit of cloth on one giant tusk (also
nonstandard equipment for snapping turtles), and lifted the girl out of
the water and onto the dam. The girl, barely noticing, stood on her own
feet and wiped her eyes, still crying a bit softly. "Nasty mean no-good
people... big meanies... make mommy an' daddy sad..."
It, not being an educated monster, did have some small
understanding of human interrelations, and he did not care overmuch for
beings placing themselves between a parent and its young. (After all,
if it ever met a female turtle-monster of a romantic inclination, It
had his own plans...) It roared for a moment, trying to keep it quiet
and gentle, not expecting the girl's short-cropped hair to be blown
back by the force of his breath.
For the first time, the girl looked up at him and -saw- him,
standing twenty feet over the surface of the pond, broad legs
supporting a massive horny shell, his immense head bent down to her,
staring at her with large yellow eyes.
"Oh," the girl said, "Hello. I'm Wapiko. Who are you?"
No one had ever asked him that question. It hadn't spoken to a
human before at all, at least not if you discounted the 'AH! OMIGOD
RUN!' trend of conversations he sometimes had with local firefighters.
He considered the question for a long, long moment, then roared again,
doing a better job of muting the volume this time.
"Gamera? That's a nice name." What had come out hadn't sounded
anything like Gamera, but that had been what It had intended. Gamera
nodded slowly, solemnly (as solemn as a turtle can nod, even a hundred-
foot-long turtle). "I'm kind of lost, 'cause some men asked me for
directions, and I thought they were nice men, but they weren't, 'cause
they wanted ta take me away from my mommy an' daddy, an' I ran away
from 'em 'cause they were mean, the men that is not mommy an' daddy
they're nice, an' I didn't see where I was goin', an' now I don't know
where I am."
Wapiko was slightly less than half a mile from the highway, and
three quarters of a mile from the Overstreet compound, in the flood-
plain of Big Sandy Creek, where ages ago some ambitious beavers had
dammed up a side passage of the creek to form a pond. Gamera, in that
strange rapport that Wapiko shared with all animals more advanced than
a polliwog, communicated all of this to her except the part about the
location of her house, of which Gamera was himself ignorant.
Wapiko, who had not yet learned to run when she'd left Earth for
the first time, didn't know anything about anything off the old
highway. "Um, well, my house is on the highway... maybe if I go to the
highway, I can find it from there." She bowed respectfully to the
turtle, smiling. "Thank you, Gamera! I appreciate your help!"
Gamera saw the girl walking exactly the wrong way- towards the
creek- and sighed to himself. With a long roar, he indicated that
Wapiko should climb up onto his neck.
"You want me to ride you, Gamera?" Wapiko blinked. "But it's a
long way to the highway for a turtle, even a big one."
Gamera indicated that this would not be an issue and lowered his
head halfway into the water, his nose almost level with the old
path across the dam. Wapiko carefully stepped onto his head, walked
back until she reached the ridge of his shell, and straddled his neck,
grabbing onto a couple of wattles for safety. "Okay! Let's go, Gamera!"
What happened next totally surprised her.
Gaos was in a foul mood.
As a mutant pteranodon, Gaos tended to be cranky to begin with,
but those pesky humans and their aircraft chasing him really annoyed
him. He'd knocked down a few houses in League City in anger after one
plane got a lucky shot in and cut off one of his feet. Finally, having
blasted the jet out of the sky with his poison cold breath, Gaos limped
away northeastward, away from human habitation, finally coming to rest
on a sandbar in the middle of the Trinity River. He backed underneath
one high overhanging bank of the river, the deep channel and tall trees
around the edge hiding him from sight.
There he groaned and shuddered as, slowly, with slime and blood
dripping from the stump, he regrew his leg, flexing it as it slipped out
of the stump and snapped its talons open. Whole once again, he spread
his wings, shouting defiance at the cruel world full of humans he lived
in. Why didn't they go back where they came from?
One wing caught an overhanging oak tree and uprooted it, sending
it crashing down onto Gaos's still-tender foot. His eyes bulged a bit,
and he grit his beak and whimpered at the new pain.
He needed to destroy something. Preferably something flammable.
With a rush of wind, he launched himself from the banks of the
Trinity, flying eastward, looking for those large metal things with oil
in them. They blew up reeeeal good.
Harvey regained consciousness slowly, reluctantly, and painfully.
By some miracle, he had no broken bones, although a couple of his ribs
didn't feel quite right and his entire body hurt with a passion.
Looking up, he saw Charley still resting spread half over the
dashboard, half over the hood, looking a bit sheepish.
"So, you told her we were kidnapping her, Charley," Harvey said
at last.
"Well, I told her, that's all," Charley shrugged, not looking at
all proud of himself.
"So you triggered something that turned a cute little girl into
an unstoppable juggernaut in pink," Charley said. "Just popped off your
mouth, and here we are, wrecked and injured in the middle of nowhere."
"Well, I'm sorry, Harv."
"Well, sorry, um, doesn't do us any -good,- Charley. Now, let's
get our story straight for when somebody comes along." Harvey pulled
himself painfully to his feet, walked over to the truck, noted the
ripped-up line down the middle of the hood, and said, "Now, what
happened is this. We was drivin' along th' road minding our own
business, when this dinosaur, big dinosaur see, jumps out of the woods,
rams our car, and runs off."
"Gee," Charley muttered, "do ya think they'd buy that?"
"Well, Charley, it's -just- wild enough..."
Harvey trailed off as he and Charley heard a strange new sound
above them, the sound of laughter. Female laughter. Manic nerve-jarring
female laughter. The two bandits looked up to see a figure silhouetted
by the noonday sun, red hair streaming down her back, voluptuous pale
flesh accented by what appeared to be gleaming red metal bikini-armor. A
semi-transparent shield hid most of her face from view, part of a metal
helmet with vernier-like horns jutted up from either side.
The figure stared down at them, hands on her hips, and said, "Woe
to those criminal scum who would separate a helpless child from her
loving parents!"
"Hey, listen," Charley shouted, "there wadn't nothin' helpless
about that child, lemme tell ya!"
"Shut UP, Charley!" Harvey hissed.
"I am the armored warrior of love and science! I shall right
wrongs and triumph over evil! For I am the RED AVENGER!" She posed
dramatically in midair, her metal armor not quite enough to subdue some
impressive jiggling, and she looked down again, adding, "And you two
have been found... guilty!"
"Charley?"
"Yeah, Harv?"
"I think this is gonna hurt."
Wapiko looked down at the trees, eyes wide with delight.
Gamera was FLYING. She could look up at the low-lying clouds, down
on the trees and oil wells zipping beneath the huge turtle's shell, back
to see jet flames rushing out of the holes in his shell where his hind
legs had been. The only thing sticking out was his head, which
occasionally rocked a little to one side as Gamera checked on his
passenger.
Her father would have written Gamera's flight off as impossible,
except he was tangled in a patch of briars trying not to cut apart the
clinging plants. Her mother would have scanned and analyzed the strange
flying beast, except she was currently in what Wapiko knew as her
Playing-with-Daddy body, wearing an odd costume, and shouting things
like 'ICZEL LANCE!' 'ICZEL KICK!' 'ICZEL WEDGIE!' while she made two
miserable bandits even more miserable.
Wapiko giggled as she tasted the wind on her cheeks, looking down
in wonder at the narrow country road below, not recognizing her house
from above and not noticing Zathras on the roof. (Zathras, in fact, was
no longer on the roof; Gamera's take-off roar had caused him to slip
down the tin roof, and he currently lay entangled in the limbs of a
magnolia tree having his own communion with the tweety birds.)
Gamera didn't mind Wapiko's euphoria; he remembered his first
flight, and he figured it'd take either a couple hours or a big-ass
pteranodon (the latter, in his own case) to jolt her out of it.
"Ooooh!" Wapiko shouted, pointing westward. "What's that?"
Gamera looked to the western horizon and sighed.
"That" was a big-ass pteranodon.
The Red Avenger had departed, taking her skimpy power armor and
its overflowing contents with her and leaving two battered and scorched
bandits behind for the authorities.
One half-charred lump of humanity raised itself on its unbroken
arm and said, "Charley?"
The other lump, hurting too much to move, replied, "Yeah, Harv?"
Harvey gathered himself, gasping, "We need... to get our story...
together... for when the cops... arrive."
"motherfuck... goddam... OW... son of a BITCH... damn briars..."
Charley raised his head enough to look towards the bushes
alongside the road and muttered, "That wouldn't be them now, would it?"
A loud humming sound erupted from the bushes, and in a flicker of
red light, several plants fell away from the thicket, twigs and leaves
partially incinerated by the beam. A man in blue jeans and a tattered T-
shirt emerged from the brush, shivering slightly at the chill December
air, looking very irritated at life in general. As the man pulled a
couple of twigs from his beard and brushed the leaves out of his short-
cropped red hair, he took in the incinerated truck, the thoroughly
chastised bandits, and the trail of fallen trees leading away from the
truck.
"So," he said at last, "you're the bastards who tried to kidnap
my daughter."
"Harv, this is going to hurt again, isn't it?" Charley gasped.
"I think so, Charley," Harvey gasped in reply.
Before the hurting could commence, a loud squark of challenge
ripped through the air, followed by a deafening explosion. A plume of
smoke rose from the woods to the west, and with a loud Salusian curse
the Redneck turned his back on the bandits and ran back into the woods,
cutting a path before him with a beamsword.
The two hoods watched him leave, took a big sigh of relief each,
and passed out.
Gaos crowed with delight as he spotted the large oil containers
scattered among the pine trees. Here and there, oil wells still rattled
and pumped, dredging out the deepest dregs of a formerly bountiful
supply, pouring the thick Texas crude through the pipes and into the
old but well-maintained tanks. With a screech of pleasure Gaos dove onto
the nearest tank, knocking a maintenance ladder over into the half-full
overflow pond, and slashed it open with one wing.
Oil poured from the tank, ignited a moment later as Gaos' claws
sparked against the rusted metal. The billows of smoke rose into the
sky as flames danced around Gaos' body. With another happy roar, he
leaped into the sky, looking for something else to smash.
He wasn't expecting to catch umpty thousand tons of angry flying
turtle in the gut.
Wapiko clung tightly to Gamera's neck as she watched Gaos smash
up the oil tank. "Hey! He's tearing up that big metal thing! HEY YOU!
THAT BELONGS TO SOMEBODY!" When Gaos didn't hear her shouting, she
looked down and said to Gamera, "That's a mean old giant monster. He
needs to be taught a lesson."
Gamera wasn't going to argue with that. Unfortunately, he had a
little girl on his back, and he couldn't exactly jump in feet blazing
and fight with a rider along. He needed a moment to let Wapiko off
before he took care of this pterosaur who had the temerity to interlope
on HIS skies and blow things up in HIS forest.
When Gaos leaped up from the flames, Gamera saw his chance. Rushing
forward and downward in a blaze of fire (to Wapiko's screaming delight),
he slid his body into a mid-air bootlegger turn and slammed into Gaos
broadside across the midsection. Gaos went tumbling backwards, smashing
hard into an ancient and decrepit graduating tank and shattering the
rusted relic to bits. Between the metal and trees, it would take Gaos
some moments to get free.
Slowly and carefully, Gamera lowered his body to earth in a
clearing near an intact oil tank. He hinted to Wapiko that she should
step back, as the fight would probably be very rough indeed.
"Okay, I'll get out of your way," Wapiko smiled. "Don't worry
about me!" She trotted back to the far edge of the clearing, covering
her face as Gamera drew all his limbs and his head into his shell,
slowly spinning like a top as jets blazed from all four holes. He rose
into the air, hovering in place, as Gaos extracted himself from the
wreckage and arose, screaming defiance, into the air.
With a titanic slam of chitin against leather, the fight was on.
The Redneck crashed through a dense tangle of fallen limbs
and briars, beamstaff slashing through the undergrowth like a red
glowing machete. Pausing in the old firebreak road to rest, he looked
up and saw for the first time the giant turtle and pteranodon, the
latter blasting some sort of foul gas at the flaming, spinning turtle
shell.
If his daughter hadn't been missing in the middle of all this,
Kris might have wished for popcorn; as it was, he was about to charge
back into the brush when a whoosh of air heralded the arrival of the
Red Avenger. In her high-heeled knee-top boots, the Avenger actually
stood a bit taller than the Redneck, but the long red hair and other
hard to miss distinguishing characteristics made it easy for Kris to
identify her.
"Washuu, what are you doing in that getup?" he asked. "You want
to catch cold or something?"
"Why, I'm searching for our daughter, of course," Washuu smiled
from beneath her tinted visor. "I've already disposed of the thugs who
so unwisely attempted to kidnap her. In fact, the authorities should be
here in a matter of minutes to take them to a nice maximum security
hospital." She struck a pose, throwing her shoulders back just a little
bit extra for Kris' enjoyment, and shouted, "Once more the power of
love and Science! has triumphed over evil! The genius of the Red
Avenger is all-powerful! A-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Gaos, flying low overhead, clipped the top of a pine tree; the
limb fell squarely atop the Red Avenger's helmet, knocking her to the
ground.
"owwie"
"You sound so much like Mayl when you say that," the Redneck
grumbled. He hacked his way into the brush, shouting over his
shoulder, "Go back to the house and get some proper clothes on before
someone begins asking questions!"
Washuu pushed the limb off her body and brushed herself off.
"Even Wapiko?"
"ESPECIALLY WAPIKO! OWWW!" The slashing paused as the Redneck
pulled briar thorns from his skin for the hundred and thirty-third
through hundred and thirty-ninth times that day.
Harvey and Charley roused themselves from a brief but merciful
slumber, taking stock of their immediate surroundings and their own
conditions.
They still lay in the ditch alongside the ancient country road to
nowhere, their truck smoldering behind them from an Iczel Lance or
eight. Several limbs and other bones had been broken on each, although
no injury was actually life threatening.
They had achieved that dubious pleasure of endorphin fatigue, the
point where the pain-numbing chemicals in their bodies had produced
enough happy-juice to transform excruciating pain into a low-grade ache,
with severe lassitude and mild depression tacked on for laughs. This
condition generally killed any ambitions the two had involving movement,
but since the slightest motion produced fresh, non-dulled pain in
economy-sized boatloads, they hadn't been very inclined to move anyway.
The crashing of trees not far off, the monstrous roars of two
battling titans, and the occasional shaking of the earth beneath them
had nearly convinced them, despite all the incentives to remain still,
to try to move toward some form of shelter.
"Okay, Charley, I think I can push off on my good leg. Grab my
upper arm an' I'll drag ya across th' road. Maybe there's a hole we can
hide in there."
"Good idea, Harv."
Charley grit his teeth, grunted, rolled over onto his bruised
ribs, and grabbed Harvey's -lower- right arm.
"OWWWWWW! UPPER! UPPER! UPPER!!"
Charley switched his grip, gasping, "Sorry..."
Harvey, not bothering to answer that, pushed against a crack in
the ancient pavement with his boot heel. His body slid backwards
slowly, shakily, until after about seven inches the pavement under his
boot flaked off and bounced down the ditch slope. The boot, without
anything pushing against it, flew out and caught Charley's shin with a
solid kick.
"OOOW! Hey, HARVEY!"
The two bandits rolled apart, lying flat on their backs again,
gasping for breath and trying not to move anything at all. Both had to
clear tears of pain from their eyes before either could speak.
"Harv? How far d'ya think we got?"
"About... about maybe a foot, Charley, maybe two."
"How far 'cross the road?"
"Hm... about another twenty or so."
"Um," Charley said, thinking carefully for a moment; then, out of
consideration for his partner rather than any lingering personal wishes,
he asked, "Do ya wanna try again?"
"No," Harvey said, now very careful not to shake his head, "No, I
think I'll lie here and wait for a dinosaur to come eat us."
"Sounds like a good plan, Harv," Charley gasped, and with that he
lay still and closed his eyes, wishing he'd listened to his mother and
become a longshoreman.
Gamera crashed to the ground, shaken and weakened. The foul ice
breath, the air that drew warmth from the body even as it poisoned him,
had taken its toll. Gamera, on the other hand, had not yet been able to
land a truly telling blow. His flame breath actually seemed to energize
the enemy, and that irritated him no end. He needed an edge, and fairly
soon, or he would soon be joining his smaller cousins as an exhibit at a
roadside stand somewhere, a hundred-foot shell painted with the words
SOUVENIR OF EARTH- "Everything's Bigger in TEXAS" or something of that
nature.
The thought of becoming the galaxy's largest ten-credit junk
souvenir brought Gamera back to his feet. With a grunt he pushed
himself up, balancing on his hind legs, and strode purposefully towards
the hovering form of Gaos. Gaos, eager to take the fight to the ground,
lowered himself to the ground, waving his wings to balance on his own
stubby feet.
Gamera marked those wings with caution; the leading edges were
sharp, razor-sharp towards the tips, and his shell already had deep
gouges from his efforts to ram Gaos out of the sky. Walking into close
range and engaging in a fistfight wasn't a very good idea. Neither was
exchanging breath attacks at twenty paces, since his breath attack
didn't really hurt Gaos that much, and Gaos' attack weakened -him- a
lot.
Gamera looked behind Gaos, seeing behind him two oil tanks side
by side. Nearby, an oil pump rocked up and down, drawing up fresh oil
and pushing it to the tanks; Gamera could even see the still-intact
pipe leading above ground from well to storage. The plan came together
almost immediately.
With a roar of triumph, Gamera leaned forward, yanking in his
hind legs and jetting forward with arms spread. Before Gaos could
dodge, he had the giant pteranodon in as close to a tackle as a turtle
can manage, adding to the hold by gripping Gaos' shoulder in his tusks.
Gaos screamed, thrashing its head helplessly as it struggled to get
free. Together the two monsters smashed square into the tanks, setting
off another fiery explosion.
Fresh oil kept the flames fed as Gamera picked himself up off
Gaos. With a squawk Gaos grabbed one of Gamera's hind legs with his
talons, pulling the immense turtle off balance. Gamera stumbled
backwards, just avoiding the fall that would have left him helpless on
his back. Instead he pushed forward and fell, smashing his full body
weight back onto Gaos in a 3.8 Richter scale body slam.
This time Gaos didn't grab Gamera's leg as the two stood up. The
flames rose around them, feeding both creatures fresh power, but in the
midst of the flames Gamera had the advantage. Gaos backed away from the
huge turtle, seeking some space, and blasted away with a wave of ice
breath. The breath attack fizzled out in the intense heat of the oil
fire, and before Gaos could react Gamera was on him, waddling forward,
rocking back and forth on his hind legs as his forelimbs whipped back
and forth, smashing Gaos in the jaws again and again and again.
Gaos toppled backwards into the trees, his flailing wings slicing
through treetops behind him, the falling limbs entangling him. Above him
towered Gamera, rising majestically into the air on a plume of flame,
pulling himself up to high altitude as Gaos lay helpless among the
broken trunks. With Gaos at his mercy, Gamera executed the turtle
version of a jackknife dive and plunged at full throttle downwards, a
giant reptilian meteor, impacting dead center on Gaos.
Gaos lay still, only a slight hint of breathing indicating that
the giant pteranodon had survived the encounter. Gamera lifted himself
up, looked down at his foe, and prepared to finish the intruder off
once and for all.
"WAIT!!"
Gaos looked down to see the little girl standing on the edge of
the flames, her clothes smoldering a little. Wapiko was shouting up at
him, "You beat him! He's learned his lesson! Don't hurt him anymore!"
Gamera didn't quite understand the logic of that. He was a
reasonable turtle, and one of the rules of being a reasonable turtle is
that most other people your size aren't going to be as reasonable.
Gamera attempted to communicate this, along with the suggestion that
one more punch would make sure Gaos didn't bother anybody ever again.
"No! You mustn't hurt him any more! If you do, you'll be just as
big a meanie as he is!"
What world did this girl live in, anyway? Gamera wondered. His
yellow eyes gazed down at the tiny girl, her large lavender eyes
staring up at him in turn. He saw the innocence, the pleading in those
eyes, the unshakable conviction that every creature in the world really
could get along if they just made the effort.
Somehow Gamera just didn't feel like disillusioning the child
today.
With a solemn turtle nod, Gamera stepped away from Gaos, pausing
for a moment to draw the flames from the fire into his body,
extinguishing the oil fire in seconds. Gaos was, and would remain for a
while at least, weak and helpless, unable to renew his inner reserves.
A pair of atmospheric jet aircraft screamed across the sky above
them, and Gamera indicated that he had to leave before more trouble
came looking for him.
"Oh, Gamera..." Wapiko stared up at the giant turtle, rushing
forward amidst the oil and mud, hugging his huge leg as much as her
little arms could. "Don't go! We could take you home and we could play
together and have all sorts of fun! I just met you an' all an'-"
"WAPIKO, STEP AWAY FROM THE MONSTER!"
The Redneck strode forward, fearless and determined, willing away
his beamstaff before he stepped into the oily mire which had been the
tank overflow pond. The goop only slowed his steps down a bit as he
waded shin-deep into the muck and grabbed his daughter, lifting her
into his arms. "Now -what- have I told you about playing with strange
monsters?"
"But he's a nice monster," Wapiko said. "He beat up this meanie
bad monster for us, see?" She pointed to Gaos, who was just shaking the
cobwebs out and looking around to see what wasn't broken.
"Look, honey," Kris said, "I've seen you befriend coral snakes.
I've seen you befriend skunks. I've seen you befriend lobsters, and
we've never been let back into THAT seafood restaurant yet have we? I've
seen you bring home SIX JIGGLYPUFFS, and there's not supposed to be a
single Pokemon on New Avalon!!" He pointed up at Gamera and said,
"There is no way in God's golden nebulae that you're bringing THAT home
for a pet. The New Avalon Petting Zoo doesn't even have a POND that
big!!"
"But... but DADDY..."
Gamera looked at Gaos, who looked back at Gamera.
How about those humans? Gamera said to Gaos, more or less.
Takes all kinds, Gaos shrugged, then whimpered because it hurt to
shrug with two broken wings.
Gamera glared down at Gaos. You going to cause any more trouble?
Who, me? Not a chance, I know when I'm beat. Gaos tried his best
to look innocent, and managed only a mild parrot-eyed stare.
Gamera nodded, turned back to Wapiko and her father, and roared.
"Daddy, Gamera says that we might wanna get out of blast range."
The Redneck, who had caught enough glimpses of the fight to know
what came next, scrambled out of the sludge and trotted to the edge of
the clearing, where a re-clothed and re-sized Washuu awaited them. With
a second roar, Gamera stepped out of the oil, lifted off the ground,
and sped eastward in a blaze of shell-spinning glory, just ahead of the
Texas Rangers chopper which landed in the clearing a few minutes later.
The helmeted form of a Ranger, silver star pinned onto a heavy
flak jacket, stepped out of the helicopter and walked towards the
Overstreet family. "Ranger Smith, Texas Rangers," he said, only to have
Kris and Washuu disintegrate in hysterical laughter. Wapiko clung to her
father, looking up in confusion.
While the Ranger grumbled under his breath, Wapiko reached over
and patted him gently on the shoulder. "It's all right," she said, "I
don't understand what's so funny either."
The rumble of tank treads caught the attention of two limp forms
lying on the edge of the road. Charley and Harvey looked up to see a
large number of armored transports in single file approaching them, the
lead half-track coming to a stop just a few feet from them. Prominent on
all the vehicles was the white lone star of the Texas Rangers.
A Ranger dropped from the transport, walking over to the two
criminals. Slowly, carefully, the Ranger pulled off her gloves,
slapping them together in one hand, and raised her visor for a better
look. "Pardon me," she asked, "but did you happen to witness a-"
"We surrender," Harvey whimpered.
"-giant monster battle near... I'm sorry?" The Ranger blinked in
confusion. With the Gaos creature holding top priority, she hadn't paid
much attention to the APB sent out twenty minutes before about a failed
kidnapping by some vigilante calling herself the Red Avenger. "Could you
repeat that for me?"
"We give up. We done it. We're guilty."
"I'm sorry, guilty of what?"
"Anything," Charley grunted. "Any crime. You name it, we done
it."
"Any non-capital crime," Harvey added. "We never killed nobody."
"Yeah, right," Charley nodded, "but aside from that we'll sign
any confession you put in front of us."
"Just please, please, take us away from here," Harvey pleaded.
"To a nice jail cell," Charley added. "With a nice warm hospital
bed."
"We don't even ask for attractive nurses," Harvey begged, tears
falling down his soot-covered face.
"In fact, we'd prefer the ugliest nurses you got," Charley added,
shuddering at a memory of a certain voluptuous form beating him black
and blue.
"Just ARREST US!" Harvey threw a weak kick at the Ranger, missing
her leg by a mile. "Look! Look! I'm assaulting an officer! I confess!
Arrest me!"
Charley pushed himself off the road with his good arm. "And
lookit me! I'm resistin' arrest! Attempted escape! Lock me up good!"
The Ranger stared in disbelief at the two pleading men and shook
her head. Why, she thought, why did I request a transfer from Waco city
patrol? These Badlands are just plain full of NUTS...
CHRISTMAS DAY, 2404
"... and the creature code-named Gaos has been deposited safely
in his new habitat on Monster Island, where he will be nursed back to
health by scientists and studied in captivity for the rest of his life.
Researchers are encouraged by the total lack of resistance exhibited by
the creature during the six thousand mile journey across North America
and the Pacific Ocean. It is hoped that, with the proper research,
creatures like Gaos and his fellow residents on Monster Island will
produce new breakthroughs in-"
The loud thumping of tiny feet on the wooden floor echoed in the
pre-dawn Christmas air. Kris turned the television off and got out of
his chair just in time to see Wapiko trotting in, as well-behaved as
possible for a four-year-old girl who could crumple steel by accident.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!" Wapiko shouted, happy eyes staring out from
a face filled with sunshine once again. "When are we gonna open
presents, huh huh huh?"
"We're going to wait until your mother's dressed, honey," Kris
said quietly, "and then we're going to see what Santa Claus left in
your Christmas stocking."
"Did Santa eat th' ice cream I left out for him?" Wapiko asked
eagerly.
"The whole half gallon," Kris nodded, pointing to the empty Ever-
cool carton which once had held a sizable amount of Cherry Garcia.
Kris' pro-Texas vote of Blue Bell Cookies-and-Cream had been overridden
by a vote of two to one (three counting the black-haired female Santa in
question).
"YAY!" Wapiko grinned. "I'll get lots an' lots of toys this year,
'cause I been a good girl, right?"
Kris had to agree, at least if you gave bonus points for good
intentions and repair efforts.
"But I gotta take care of somethin' first, okay Daddy?" Without
explaining herself, she ran over to the Lab Door and closed it behind
her; a few seconds later, it vanished, and Kris began wondering what
Wapiko (and either Washuu or Zathras) were up to?
Not that it mattered; a few more precious minutes of quiet before
the gift-unwrapping tornado struck were to be treasured.
Merry Christmas, Mister Overstreet, and goddesses bless us, every
One, he thought. I have three weeks before Washuu has to be back at NAIS
for spring semester, and three quiet weeks is all the Christmas present
I need�
"Oh, Kris..."
Washuu came into the room, slinking around the bar in full adult
form, wearing a red woolly Christmas stocking labeled "Kris" on one
foot... and nothing else. "Do we have time to unwrap -your- present
first?"
Any thoughts of a peaceful Christmas, naturally enough,
Evaporated for the next half hour or so.
SIX MONTHS LATER, GIVE OR TAKE
On a high, dry, grassy patch of ground next to the beaver pond
sat a twenty-foot-tall teddy bear.
It wasn't anything unusual, just your usual teddy bear, aside
from its size. Its all-weather, stain-resistant fabric felt warm and
fuzzy to the touch, as all good teddy bears do, and its large black
button eyes stared longingly back at you, pleading for a hug. Around
its neck was tied a bright red ribbon, knotted as if by hand into an
elegant bow knot.
The hunter stared at the teddy bear he'd nearly shot for the real
thing, trying to figure out if what he was seeing was true. He walked
carefully around it, making sure to stay out of the mud-bog which was
the beaver pond in summertime. Cicadas chirped loudly in the forest
around him as he found the tag: THE SMITH AND EXEDORE COMPANY, MADE IN
NEW AVALON, NO CLEANING REQUIRED.
The hunter paused for a moment, stroking the teddy bear's leg and
wondering to himself how much effort would be involved in carrying the
huge plush toy to his truck? It'd make a dandy trophy, without
question. He reached down and grabbed the leg, raising the foot a few
inches from the ground...
A skull-rattling roar sounded from behind him.
Slowly, very very slowly, the hunter turned around, careful to
keep his gun held towards the ground in the most nonthreatening manner
possible. Behind him, the swamp had lifted itself UP and there, covered
in mud and dead limbs, was the biggest, meanest looking snapping turtle
he'd ever seen. Meaner, even; most snapping turtles didn't have tusks.
The giant turtle turned its head towards him, glared down with
those terrifying yellow eyes, and roared again, a blast of air rocking
the hunter backwards on his heels. Carefully the hunter continued
backwards, crawling up the slope into the brush where, concealed from
view, he turned and broke into a full run, resolving then and there to
change his hobby to cross-stitching and needlepoint.
Gamera, satisfied, nuzzled the foot of the bear lovingly before
he sank back into the mire. Giant monsters might not have much use for
teddy bears, but that was HIS teddy bear, and nobody was going to take
it away from him.
Besides, Wapiko might visit again soon, and she'd wonder where it
was.
The last spike of Gamera's horny shell sank below the water
again, and on Earth, and in a chaotic home in a Dyson sphere thousands
of light-years away, life went on...
UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT: WAPIKO LOVES GAMERA
Script written by J. Conrad Spade With a purposeful grimace
and a terrible sound
Starring He pulls the spitting high
Kris 'Redneck' Overstreet tension wires down
Washuu Hakubi (Overstreet)
Wapiko Janet Overstreet Helpless people on a
Zathras subway train
Harvey Man Scream bug-eyed as he looks
Charley Guy in on them
Gamera
Gaos He picks up a bus and he
Ranger John Albercrombie Smith throws it back down
Ranger Joan Nameless As he wades through the buildings
towards the center of town
Ice cream devoured by
Skuld Ravenhair
Inspiration provided by Oh no
Toho, LTD. They say he's got to go
AIC/Pioneer GO GO GODZILLA
Nakayoshi Magazine
J. M. S. Oh no
Freburg Productions, Ltd. There goes Tokyo
(but not very) GO GO GODZILLA
and the usual crap (Let's go!)
Grudging forgiveness to (Yeah, Godzilla doesn't appear
King Features Syndicate in this story. If they'd made
and a cool song about Gamera besides
Sandy Frank Productions that hokey march, -that- would be
the end credits music. Sue me, I'm
Filmed on location near new at this, stealing Ben Hutchins'
Segno, Texas ending riff... whups, outta space)
Support your local author Oh, no
www.wlpcomics.com They say he's got to go
GO GO GODZILLA
Watch Tenchi Muyo OAV ep. 8
if you're still confused, tough Oh, no
There goes Tokyo
A White Lightning Production GO GO GODZILLA
in association with
Eyrie Productions, Unltd. History shows again and again
Edited by Ben Hutchins How nature points out
and the Eyrie Productions the folly of man
Usual Suspects GODZILLA!
Hold on tight to your dreams... ZILLA-GOD...
THE ADVENTURES OF WAPIKO WILL CONTINUE
(gods help us all)
Kris Overstreet, aka Redneck Gaijin
publisher, White Lightning Prod. - www.wlpcomics.com
I ***LOATHE*** Microsoft Outlook. Please get Eudora.
.---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
| Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
| Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
| Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject |
`---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'