Thursday, October 21, 2010

Cool, Clear Water

Okay, so. It's the year 3020 CE.



Mankind has largley destroyed itself through nuclear war and etc. Gangs of roving bandits- - or roving gangs of bandits wander the deserts of North America, the last of the human colonies, robbing and murdering in a Dionysian orgy-celebration of the apocalypse. Only scattered communities resembling the former human society still exist and so on, etc. Water has become more valuable then gold etc. etc.

Earth, after millions of years, has reached it's most trying - - it's most horrifying era...

The Roaring Twenties



If we only had water, cries the populace -- The blind could see and the deaf could hear!

One of the largest sources of fresh water, the remains of Lake Superior, is guarded by a hideous mutant - - his name unspeakable to the many small villages who depend on his grace for their supplies: The Rat King, Scourge of the Inner Crater.



He stands at over 16 cubits tall. In the first hundred years of his life, he spent his time fabricating an enormous coat out of the abundant population of rats that started to thrive after the first bombs dropped. Out of their tails he fashioned his mighty sling, from which he hurls boulders and garbage at unwanted visitors. The communities that surround his territory are distinguished by the smell (like rotting wood) that wafts up from the his open mouth.

Bring me - - he groaned at one of his many human servants- -My Piiyanoman.



And the Piiyanoman was brought, as usual - - wheeled in on a wooden cart, his ancient fingers hovering inches over the controls, his gaunt, dried up face tilted upwards with his eyes closed tightly.

Fanfare for the Rat King!




The Rat King smiled broadly, his toothless mouth brimming with saliva.

You remember - -he wheezed, bringing his momentous, boil-laden face close to the old Piiyanoman - -You remember water, don't you?

The old man did not speak or move. The Rat King rubbed his chin.

Play for me...water.

If he had anything left in his body, he might have started to sweat. Instead, he gathered what remained up into his hands and prepared to play.

He began, as usual, to shake - - slowly at first - - really just barely trembling - - but steadily building to a full-body vibration; a shivering spasm; a spasmatic undulation - - a tremendous undulatory spasmatic boil. The Rat King brought his hands up to his cheeks and squeeled in anticipation.



I'm getting ahead of myself.



To be continued...

No comments:

Post a Comment