I was spying the Giant Fly and as is usual, she brought me to a shanty town with wooden sidewalks and horses tied up standing on muddy streets. An Indian wanted me to buy some beer for him, so I did. After buying it, with money he had given me, I handed him the beer, and he said thank-you. Then a wilder looking Indian came up, walking funny, like a monster might, but he didn't want beer. He wanted me dead. Luckily I had my knife with me, and as he hobbled up, I threw it at him. It spun in the air, just like grandpa taught me, and ka-blam, it sunk into his heart. The initial impact sent him flying back a few feet, then he tried catching his footing but stumbled back and tripped into a trough full of filth. All the pigs who had been eating there scattered, like roaches, or thieves, and the filth was doing its job by bubbling while the monster sunk into it.
"Having a bath of filth, eh?" I cried, "well I hope you filth in hell!" And I pulled the knife from his chest. Some blood bubbled up and escaped his mouth. I wiped the blade on my pants (already quite bloody from previous encounters that morning), and moved on my way.
I call it a giant fly, but it is in fact a giant wasp and it's stinger found that man's chest. I became an insect. I am wasp man.
12 comments:
Wasp Man would be an AWESOME hero!
Or villain. Whatever.
Well i will remember never to fuck with the wasp man! I am actually quite afraid of wasps and their stinging ways. I'm not sure what kinds of wasps you have over there, but growing up i remember these red wasps with dangly bits (not the rude kind), and i called them "helicopter wasps", because their shape and their hovering reminded me of helipcopters. Menacing, miniature helicopters with evil on their minds. I imagine wasp man to be like this.
This was quite a dark little tale.
I notice the word "grandpa" amongst the labels there.Is wasp man actually your grandpa???
Waspman is actually my grandpa. This was a bed time story he told me as a tyke.
The wasps you have over there sound terrifying. Helicopters are bad enough, helicopters are horribly worse.
Wasps, man, wasps. They can sting without fear of death, again and again. God forbid one gets in my pants, my pants that day being made of clear plastic, cinched at the waist and the thighs, and I just have to watch it go after my stinger (my nest?) again and again until the air runs out.
Wait, how could that even happen?
That sounds pretty bad. Where would you even get clear pants? You'd have to make them yourself. Then you could expose yourself gracefully the po-mo way. And fill the pants with water and then fish. You could be aquarium pants man!
Please write a story about Aquarium Pants Man?!
Please? *bats eyelashes*
There'd have to be an eel in Aquarium Pants Man's pants aquarium. Or a sea cucumber.
Or a shrimp.
Or a shrimp, regrettably. But hey, Aquarium Pants Man could get some cocktail sauce and a fancy bowl, and then there's his pick-up line.
What about a Narwhal? That'd be freaky.
I had to look Narwhal up. Is that your idea of an aquatic phallic? Jeez, that thing is like a penis with a penis. And hard to get into my pants (that's what she said.)
:)
My competitive spirit led me to try outdoing all the previously mentioned phallic sea life.The narwhal takes the cake as far as phallic imagery is concerned!
Post a Comment