Tuesday, May 16, 2017

The Visitor (continued)

I posted a Twilight Zone inspired start of a story called The Visitor on May 10th where an asteroid lands in a suburban neighborhood. I've listened to some audiobooks by British authors Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, working my way through the Discworld and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series respectively. Both are light, fast patter, absurdist fun with the same sense of irreverent wit and dry British humor as Monty Python's Flying Circus.

So, in that spirit, I'm continuing The Visitor with these authors in mind, not knowing where it will go, but with fun at the forefront. So, without further ado (not sure that any ado was offered in the first place). Here we go...

The Visitor (continued)

Sally Fensterbottom, who, at nine years old, was taller than a fence post, as long as the fence post was less than four feet seven inches tall (and most are, considering how most barnyard animals have gotten lazy in this age of factory farming) did not stir when all the hubbub with the meteor happened in the morning. She'd stayed up late the night before, even though it was a school night, watching cartoons. Her mother was lax with bedtime discipline. Muriel Fensterbottom was not in good graces with the Cotulla Valley neighborhood association for a plethora of perceived slights - barking dogs, yard litter, loud music, loud yoga pants, and gum smacking. And no doubt the competitive Yuppie stereotypes of a network drama series about suburbia would voice their disapproval of Sally's late night pixelated stimulation.

And so, because of the late night, Sally was groggy on her walk to the bus stop, and frequently unscrewed the cap of her 20 ounce bottle of soda (more ah-hahs and snickering rebukes from the mom judges, high-fructose corn syrup on par with crystal meth and skateboarding in their eyes) to drink and help her wake up. At first she didn't notice what looked like a long green snake trailing beside her through the grass. But when she stopped, the creature widened out as large as a sidewalk square (at least a standard Cotulla Valley sidewalk square, which, following a mold, were uniformly, except on corners, four feet square) and reached out a globular tendril to Sally's soda.

And Sally, being at least awake enough to mind her sugary sustenance, screamed when she saw a green square with a octopus like appendages enveloping the bottle. She dropped it and ran back toward's home, to mother, to Muriel, who was actually doing Yoga in her pink and purple yoga pants when Sally burst through the door.

"Mommy, mommy," Sally said, speaking like a winning athlete being interviewed after a game. "The monster.. the green octopus monster thingy... Mommy... It stole my soda."

Muriel, straining to hold her rising sun pose and feeling a slight disturbance in her third chakra, said, "Sally, dear. I swear. You're so impressionable. This is the last time I let you watch TV before bedtime."

"But Mommy, it's true... I ... Saw.. IT!"

No comments: