Jumbo Shrimp

[Bloodgeon11]

Jumbo Shrimp: Oxymoron or Oxymurder

By: Bloodgeon

Pt. I
The Beginning

The weathered old man leaned forward in his rocking chair as the rust-red, beat up old Ford screeched to a halt in front of the old general store. With his rheumy eyes, he carefully observed a middle-aged man in a brown business suit open the door of the truck and step out, smoothing out the creases in his pants. As he approached the store, the old man called out in a hoarse, dusty voice:
“Say thar, yeh young buck, how ‘bout sittin’ a minute and keepin’ ol’ Pappy comp’ny?”
The man, in a voice as deep as the rumble of the mountains but clear and flowing as an arctic stream, replied,
“Thank you, sir, but daylight is burning and I’d like to find my cabin before dark falls.”
“Ah, nonsense. Any blind fool could find his way ‘round here. Jest have a sit an’ chat. It does mah ol’ bones good to have a talk ev’y now an’ agin.”
The man looked up, shading his eyes from the glaring noonday sun.
“Well, maybe for a minute. My name’s Brad Eidson.”
The old man blinked in surprise and then squinted.
“Oh,” said the old man, “An out-o-towner, are yeh?”
Brad could tell by his tone that it wasn’t really a question.
“Yessir, just came up to survey the beauty and get away from my job.”
Suddenly, the old man’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“Where ya stayin’, son?” he asked in a suspiciously neutral tone.
“Why, just the cabin down by the old aquaculture lake.”
The old man sprang up with a show of agility that belied his age.
“Yeh mustn’t go up thar, yeh youn’ buck,” the old man vehemently stated, “Thars demons in that thar lake!” There was a disturbing fire in his suddenly clear eyes.
Brad glared back and demanded,
“Why shouldn’t I go up there?!”
The old man seemed to lose some of his fervor, and simply became ol’ Pappy again.
“Siddown, sonny, an’ let ol’ Pappy tell yeh a li’l story…”





Pt. II
The Teens

“So what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when we get to this cabin, Specs?”
Specs looked over at Kyle. He decided that no one could look more like a street tough if they tried. Kyle was wearing a leather jacket with zippers everywhere, leather pants (the pockets were bulging with cigarettes), and boots which looked just right for butt kicking. He had his dark, greasy hair slicked back, and even through the jacket Specs was aware of the small-caliber revolver tucked in Kyle’s waistband. He considered the moon while he thought these things.
“Come on, quit staring and answer the question, fatty.”
Kyle took his eyes off the road and glanced back at Katie.
“Shut yer mouth, wench! You’ll speak when spoken to!”
“Oh yeah? Who’s gonna shut me up, you? Don’t make me laugh!”
“Please, please guys,” Specs yelled over the wind, “Let’s just try to get along? Please?” Personally, Specs was of the opinion that Kyle shouldn’t speak to Katie like that, but that was because of his hidden crush. To tell the truth, who couldn’t love her? With hair like the golden morning sun, eyes of cornflower blue, and skin as pale as fresh cream, she was easily the most attractive girl either of them had ever seen.
“Fine, I’ll behave if he does,” Katie pouted.
“Same here,” Kyle agreed. Though he knew of, or at least Specs’ crush on Katie, he didn’t feel the need to distance her from Specs. After all, who could love a cow like Specs? He easily weighed 400 lbs., and had thick, cokebottle glasses. He was also an insufferable know-it-all, and though he had a mind like a steel trap, he never put it to good use.
“If we’re gonna skip school to come out to this little hamlet, then we should at least try to get along.”
“Aw, Specs, you never wanna have any fun. You won’t drink, you won’t smoke, and you hardly ever want to run wild. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Katie asked.
“Musta left it in my other pants…” Specs mumbled sarcastically.
“That’s enough out of you two. Look, we’re coming into town.”
The sleepy little burg of Lincolnshire, all tucked in its warm, rural bed, never saw it coming.
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Kyle yelled in pure youthful exuberance as they raced around the town in their flashy car. “Specs, take the wheel!”
“What? Hey, wha-, what are you doing?!”
Kyle had thrust his torso out the window and was now yelling at the top of his lungs and throwing eggs at buildings as they blurred past.
“Wake up, you stupid country bumpkins, and meet your worst nightmare!”
“Kyle, gimme some of those eggs,” Katie said, “It’s time someone showed you how to really throw!”
“Wait, guys, is this really such a good idea?” Specs inquired.
“Shut up!” Katie and Kyle shouted in unison.
“Well, can you at least hold the wheel again?” Specs asked timidly.
Katie shot him an exasperated look.
“Jeez, you just gotta kill alla fun, doncha?”
“Well, someone’s gotta keep you two in check.”
Kyle glanced up sharply. “You sayin’ something, fatty?”
“Ah, let it go, Kyle . There’s better things to worry about than Specs’ smart mouth.”
Kyle looked momentarily troubled, but soon the maniacal grin was back.
“Hey guys, look up ahead.”
“What, Kyle, it’s just some old broken-down building and…oh.”
Kyle grinned. “Let’s have some fun with that geezer up there.”
“Kyle, there’s no reason to trouble the old folks.”
Katie snorted scornfully. “Specs, live a little for once, will ya? How can you get ahead in life without a healthy disrespect for your elders?”
Kyle looked lovingly at her. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. A girl after my own heart.”
They pulled up to the building and quietly crept up to the old man sleeping in his rocker.
“Watch this,” Kyle whispered. He took his box of matches and one by one began slipping them into the laces in the old man’s shoe.
“And now, for the fireworks,” Katie giggled.
Kyle struck his last match, let it flare, and lit the first in a series of matches in the shoe. As they stepped back, the old man mumbled and slowly awoke.
“Hmm…haaa…wha- PUTITOUTPUTITOUTPUTITOUT!”
Even Specs laughed as the old man did a jig until he finally managed to put his shoe out.
“What in tarnation…who’re you?” He squinted at the teens. “Not local, tha’s fer shur.”
“Hey, old man,” Kyle said tauntingly, “What’s the deal with this building?”
The old man glared. “Firs’ o all, me name’s Pappy. And second, yeh youn’ rebels, this hyar’s the town groc’ry store.”
“ ‘Groc’ry store’, huh?” Katie said mockingly, “Well, we’re running a little short on ‘moonshine’, old man, so what say you toddle along and get some for us?”
The old man shuffled off resentfully, muttering under his breath words which sounded suspiciously like “Hooligans, mumble, mumble, rebels, mumble, no respect…” and so on.
To kill time while they were waiting, Kyle and Katie lit up smokes.
“Hey fatty, you sure you don’t want to try?” asked Katie in a lilting tone.
Specs stared angrily off into the moonlight. “I’m sure,” he said flatly.
“Oooh, someone’s a grouch tonight.”
“Just shut up,” Specs said angrily.
They heard a shuffling noise, and they turned and looked as the old man toddled back into sight carrying a large glass containing an amber-colored liquid.
“Yeh twen’y-one, then?”
“Oh, of course,” swell guy Kyle. Katie laughed. They all knew none of them were over seventeen.
“Then that’ll be fifteen dollars flat.” The old man looked up hopefully. “Yeh are gon’ pay, righ’?”
Kyle snatched the bottle and laughed. “Keep dreaming, old man,” he said gleefully.
“Not gon’ be in town lon’, righ’?”
“Dunno old man, might put up at that cabin by the lake we saw earlier.”
The old man’s face twitched, as if experiencing a moral dilemma, and then said fretfully, “Yeh shoun’t ought ta do tha’.”
“Oh,” Katie said, “ and why not?”
Pappy jumped up and clutched her arm, pulling her closer. “Thar’s demons in that thar lake, youn’ missy. Demons.” And Pappy let loose a cackle that raised the hair on the backs of their necks.
Katie pulled away and ran, frightened, back to the car. Kyle looked fearfully at the old man and said “Loon,” and ran just as fast, pulling Specs along with him.
Once they were on the road, Specs said, “I told you not to give him that hotfoot. I told you!”
“Shaddup! We got away didn’t we?” Kyle asked.
“Are we really gonna stay in that creepy cabin?” Katie asked fearfully.
“Yep, unless you fancy a night shut up in the car with Shamu over there, especially after that Mexican dinner?”
Katie shuddered. “Let me at that cabin.”

Pt. III

The Shrimp

They went up to the cabin. It was old, broken down, and grimy, but still had furniture and was protection from the elements. As the night wore on, they finally decided to retire to their rooms. Specs went to his room alone, and laid down on the bed. He was in that hazy gray land between sleep and consciousness when he thought he heard a faint “Click, click, click” from under his window. He sleepily mumbled, “Guys, cut it out,”, but the clicking continued. He removed himself from bed and stood at the window. What he saw made his pasty skin turn even whiter, and he ran o where he knew Kyle and Katie were sharing a room.
“Guys, guys!” Specs shouted frantically, “Wake up!”
“Mmmm…go back to sleep, Specs. What am I, your mother?” mumbled Katie groggily.
There’s a giant shrimp outside my…” Specs stopped. He suddenly realized how stupid his claim sounded. “Maybe I did drift off…” he mumbled uncertainly.
“Good, now go to sleep,” Kyle said.
Reluctantly, Specs went back to his room and laid down. The rest of the night passed uneventfully, but Specs didn’t sleep a wink.
When Kyle and Katie rose the next morning, they decided that they would make the best out of the trip and take a ride on the lake in one of the many boats moored at a small dock near the cabin.
“But we haven’t even had breakfast,” Specs whined.
“Shaddup, you could stand to miss a few meals,” Kyle said angrily, “And what were you doing, bursting into the room in the middle of the night?”
“Look, I said I was sorry, okay?!” Specs nearly yelled.
“Okay, okay, guys, not so early, alright?” Katie pleaded.
“Fine,” said Kyle, “Let’s just go for our ride.”
Kyle and Katie got in a boat, but when Specs tried to climb in, Kyle said, “Nuh-uh, fatty. You better take one of the others. You’ll probably capsize us.” Katie giggled at this remark, and Specs glared murderously at Kyle.
As they made their way out to the lake, Kyle and Katie laughing and chatting, Specs simply rowing, the sky became overcast.
“Uh-oh,” Specs said, “This looks baaad.”
They had stopped in the middle of the lake to admire the view when Specs boat gave a sickening lurch.
“Hey, Specs, what’s goin’ on over there?” Katie yelled.
Specs glanced in the water, and when he looked up, he had a look of utter horror upon his face. “It’s the shrimp,” he whispered.
“What? Speak up!”
He let out a hideous screech of horror. “The shriiiiiiimp!” he yelled as he fell from the boat. Everything was quiet for a few seconds, until the shreds of clothing, blood, and poor Specs’ glasses floated to the surface.
“Fatty,” Katie whispered in a horror-stricken voice.
“Row, row for your life, Katie!”
She seemed to awaken as from a trance and quickly grabbed and oar. They rowed fast, but the shrimp was faster. There was a look in the teens eyes as the wake from the shrimp slowly caught up to the boat. The shrimp hit the bottom of the boat once, twice, three times, and succeeded in casting Katie out. Kyle put out his arm and grabbed her hand.
“Please don’t let go, Kyle,” she pleaded, almost insane with fear, “Please don’t let me go…” The shrimp pulled on Katie, and Kyle was forced to let her go rather than fall in himself.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! KAAAAAATIIIIIE!” But she was already gone. Belatedly he remembered the gun in his waistband. He finished rowing the boat to shore as the shrimp finished its latest meal, and then came after him.
He shouted at it from the bank, “You’ll never get me now, you evil shrimp!”, and then he kneeled on the ground, mourning his lost friends. Perhaps if he had paid more attention in school, he would have know that shrimp can walk on land. He looked up just as the shrimp came onto the bank. With no time to run, he madly scuttled backwards, firing shots at the underbelly of the shrimp as it bore down on him…

Pt. IV
Brad

“I don’t have time for this crap!” Brad said. He looked around and swore. “I said I wanted to get to the cabin before dark, and now your loony tales have made me late.
“Eh, yeh youn’-“
“Just shut up, you old bird. I’m not wasting another minute on this junk!”
He walked over and got in his truck, muttering, “Giant shrimp indeed.”
After less time searching than he imagined, he found his cabin. Still miffed at being delayed, but placated by the fact that he had made it anyway, he went and laid down on one of the beds. As he drifted off to sleep, the last thing he heard was the “Click, click, click” of oversized pincers…


Like it?

[Bloodgeon11]

Hmmmm...copying from word to DAC forums didnt work like i expected...there should be indentions there. Sorry!

[Genghis01]

Damn that’s good though I would have had the old man kill Brad but that’s just my sick twisted mind. :badgrin:
The ending is still pretty good as it is anyway so don’t change it!

[Bloodgeon11]

thanx, i try.

[atoga]

Yo Bloodgeon11, seeing as you're a fanfic fiend, care to write a good, atmosphere-defining short story I can put in the Fallout PnP I'm doing?

[Bloodgeon11]

I have tried to write halfway decent post-apoc fiction, settings, and just about everything, but it was never my cup of tea...(see Revolver in fan fic section), but i can always try. Define some lines...what do you want?

[atoga]

Something not too complicated (ie. a good way for someone who's never heard of Fallout to get a feel for the atmosphere, without talking deathclaws and other weird shit), adventurous, and interesting. There's no real criteria for what kind of story it has to be, but it must be good. Short and sweet is nice too; no more than a few (say, 4 maximum) pages with standard formatting.

Do whatever you want, really. I'm interested.

[Bloodgeon11]

Have you looked at Revolver? Take a quick look, and decide if you would like to have me orient your players...i get way too much Stephen King gunslinger stuff going on when i write post-apoc...if that's cool, ok.