Ray Bradbury said, ""

Return of the Son of the Bride of The Story Meme of the Damned

Roma, in her ineffable Hawaiian mystique, decided to retag me and her memetic ancestors. New rules apply: those infected must tag five other people.

I tag Juiitsu, Fidlmath, Mrghetos, Cooper's alter ego, and in a fit of utter perversion, Roma herself.

The story thus far:

I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

My first idea was to put the applesauce in the microwave. Hey, I was still tired. Could I scoop some out and put whipped cream on it? No, too solid. Why was it so damn cold in here? I walked over to the thermostat and saw that the heat hadn't clicked on all night and the temperature had dropped substantially overnight. Now, tired and hungry, I opened the access panel on the heater. There's the problem: why was someone cooking a duck in here? (SamuraiFrog)

I bent down and scooped up the uncooked duck carcass. There was no way I was going to let it go to waste, especially considering I had applesauce on hand. I placed it in a roasting pot and went back to reset the heater. As I continued to wake up, I realized that my roommate had spent the night at his girlfriend's place and couldn't have put the duck there. "How the hell did it get there?" I wondered. Just then, an already odd situation became even stranger. The lifeless duck animated, flapped its featherless wings, and began to speak. (Some Guy)

I had a choice to make: do I go along with this impossibly reincarnated duck drama that's unfolding before me, or do I phone Dr. Leary and get my prescription changed? Feeling more comfortable believing the Chemical Dementia theory, I pressed Dr. L's speed dial button. That's when I noticed that the duck was wearing my watch. And he had a knife. And he was telling me to lie on the floor. (Cooper Green)

Pooklekufr: There are rare moments in a man's life when he understands, in the core of his soul, that there is a subtle order to the machinery of the world. This was not one of those moments, despite a feverish attempt to quickly ponder the meaning of life, the universe, and everthing. No, this was one of the vast majority of moments in a man's life when he is completely baffled and deeply terrified that the universe really does have a grudge against him.

"Can we talk over a pot of coffee and some breakfast?" I asked the duck, now settling the wristwatch more securely on his neck.

"Glubbergurglewurgle mmmph mmmmph. Hrmmph, wubbaflubba-"

"I can't hear you very well with that knife in your mouth."

The duck let the knife fall to the floor. In a show of good faith, I slowly put down the phone as well.

"I said I'm afraid not. The end, my fellow featherless biped, is nigh," the duck said in a curiously un-ducklike baritone brogue.

"Ah, a Scottish duck. I probably have some tea around here for-"

"I haven't the time. You and all humanity face a grave threat."

"Right. Can you hand me that mug over- oh, sorry. I'll get it myself."

Shortly I helped the duck onto a chair and helped myself to a proper breakfast while the duck began to explain.

"So one of your duck scientists, experimenting with Planck-scale quantum gravity, blew a hole in the quantum foam and caused a ripple in the multiversal wave function?" I asked at the soonest possible pause.

"That is essentially correct."

"And this ripple is producing a meshing of actual and alternative quantum states, such as a hitherto possible but very improbable Scottish talking duck appearing in my heater?"

"Yes. It is believed Dr. Donaldson's work has begun to unweave reality."

[Roma:]

I pondered this tidbit of interesting information regarding the Planck-scale quantum gravity experiment and then had an epiphany.

"Does Dr. Donaldson by chance wear a blue sailor suit that doesn't quite cover his abdomen, and does he suffer from a serious speech impediment?"

"Yes," replied the duck, whose Scottish brogue grew thicker in his excitement. "You are familiar with Dr. Donaldson?"

"Yes, he is quite famous for his antics," I replied. "His work with Disney is widely known. With your permission, shall I escort you to the living area in my home where I can show his work to you?"

"Oh yes, please," replied the Scottish Duck.

I picked up the duck and walked to the living room where I turned on the television and inserted a Disney dvd starring Donald Duck.

[Two Dogs:]

However, the player was not connected because I had been using my 52" plasma screen to watch downloaded 30 second clips of squirrels wearing battle armor. My captor was intrigued to say the least in my perverted viewing. We shared a connection.

As the sexual tension increased, the duck moved closer and closer to me. I noticed a growing bulge in the general vicinity of his....well, whatever you call a duck's groin.

Having never had the pleasure of being raped, by a duck, at knife point, while watching squirrel medieval fighting, I looked forward to checking this off of my Sexual Bingo Card.

He looked deeply into my eyes and said

"Stay back. You are now a mongoose."

"What? I distinctly recall there being a moment of sexual tension between us."

"I was startled when you began to assume the shape of my people's enemies, the Mustelidae."

I raised a not-hand and examined my new fingers. Each ended in a suade-soft pad tipped with a claw. A wiggle of my not-feet indicated I now had a couple more than I am accustomed to. Doing something I had long dreamt of since the first time I ever saw a weasel, I arched my back far enough to see my own ass. You cannot let an opportunity like that go just because the world is about to end.

"We must move quickly now. The universe is about to become extremely and uncomfortably weird," said the walrus next to me on the couch.

"I think it already has. What exactly are you planning on doing to stop this?" I asked through a new and exciting mouth full of sharp, pointy lion teeth.

"I am," the teddy bear paused to wiggle his arms, "going to collect one member of each intelligent species in this region of the known multiverse and place them in a quantum normality field."

"Just one?! You've never heard of Noah, have you."

"I do not know of this Noah. Perhaps you mean Our Prophet Charlton Heston, who-"

"I'm not going by myself. Find a woman too so our species doesn't die!" I yelled in Tagalog through a mouthful of krill.

"You don't understand. Your body contains trillions of cells. Each one harbors the human genetic blueprint. Our scientists will dissolve you into your component cells, induce genetic variation sufficient to ward off genetic abnormalities, and induce fertilization after activating the necessary cellular processes. You will be the father of trillions, to be spread throughout one of our back-up universes." The percolator said in one long whistle.

"Dissolve?!"

The elephant stared into space thoughtfully, as if it had lost its wallet somewhere. Finally it rubbed its forehead with its trunk and said, "Well, you won't be conscious when it happens."

"That doesn't matter!" I hissed as I sank my fangs into his neck.

[Juuitsu:]

The elephant that was the teddy bear that was the walrus that was the duck trumpeted his alarm. I felt my body shrink into itself as my fangs penetrated his thick skin. Sabre-toothed mouse. Huh. Who'd have thought? The elephant was, by now, terror-stricken in some unfathomable, unconscious, deep-brained way. He rampaged around the room, crushing everything in his panic, as my tiny mouse body whap-whapped against him and my ginormous fangs pinned me like some kind of ridiculous Cenozoic brooch to his throat.

With all of this excitement going on, I was almost relieved when the jar of applesauce literally exploded.

Posted by: Tom "The Pooklekufr" Treloar at December 12, 2007 16:34 EST | Permalink | comments (7) |
humor, memery

Comments open but moderated. I reserve permission to kill spammers on sight.

#1  12 December 2007 - 20:26

 

I believe that this has dissolved into some strange variation of "A Clockwork Orange" but this story needs to be told.

Anonymous

#2  13 December 2007 - 01:49

 

You were the one who brought in the duck ultraviolence.

Howard the Duck and his droogs wish to invite you out for a night of ultraviolence and karaoke.

Pooklekufr

#3  13 December 2007 - 18:55

 

WOW....Awesome....story >.

mgrhetos2

#4  17 December 2007 - 19:09

 

I had no idea this story made it this far! Thanks for keeping it going and taking it in such a messed-up direction.

Anonymous

#5  17 December 2007 - 19:19

 

Hey, Two Dogs added the duck ultraviolence. Not me.

Pooklekufr

#6  18 December 2007 - 16:49

 

I think I'm sposed to add to this, but can't figure out how. Anyhow, greetings and salutations from Utah and hope y'all have a great holiday.

mafidl

#7  19 December 2007 - 23:27

 

OK - so I added to it on my blog - the best I could figure out how to do. Happy Holidays and don't drink too much eggnog.

mafidl

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