THE GREAT GADFLY:

Survival Of The Fittest



Marisol shot a look of admonition at her lover Meryl as the two kept watch of the campsite. �I know it is tempting,� said Marisol, �but Meryl, whatever you do, you must not open that package of brightly colored orange gelatin snack.� Meryl pouted, yet smiled at the same time. It was an expression Marisol knewwell. �But Marisol, I made sure to bring enough for everyone. You know how I feel aboutthis particular food.�

Marisol imagined an invisible lectern between herself and her beloved Meryl. She stood and took her place behind the lectern. �Yes, Meryl. As your longtime companion, I am quite aware of your insatiable affinity for said circus peanuts. If memory serves correctly, in the thirty years of our romantic linkage, I have bought you enough of these snacks to spell out the entirety of the inspirational poem �Footprints� across a football field, in bold font and underlined. Were I to compile footage of every time I have seen a pliant orange squish in your mouth, the length of the video montage would equal the combined running times of �Titanic,� �Magnolia,� �Malcolm X� and �It�s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World�.�

Meryl pouted, this time without smiling. �I fear you are perhaps mocking me, Marisol. You know that I am not one to be mocked. Now I am somewhat angry, despite my passionate love for you. In fact, I shall now eat this package of circus peanuts, despite your admonishment. Ha, ha, ha. See what happens when you push my buttons?�

Marisol knocked the orange styrofoam snacks out of her lover�s hands and into a cooler full of beverages such as Fanta, Shasta, Faygo and Sunny Delight. Yes, it was a colorful assortment of beverages. But more importantly, Meryl�s anger was escalating.

�You assaulted me!� Meryl shouted, her pout having given way to an outright scowl. �This camping trip is not going very well for me, and the fault is yours. I will tell our friends about your outrageous behavior upon their return.�

Marisol grabbed Meryl by the shoulders and engaged her in a sapphic eyelock. �Meryl, listen to me. I�m not trying to be a killjoy, really I�m not. I�m trying to save your life, dammit! If you open those circus peanuts at a time like this, it could kill us all. Don�t you see?�

Meryl�s eyes began to well with tears, caught in Marisol�s stare like a deer in headlights. �No, Marisol. Quite frankly, I have no idea what you�re talking about. How can my snack, purchased for a mere fifty-nine cents (or two for a dollar), contribute to the unseemly horrors you allege? It doesn�t make sense, Marisol. You�re talking nonsense. You�re talking gibberish. And I won�t have it! Do you hear me?�

Marisol�s gaze became more intense. Her eyes became thin, red slits. �Fine. Have it your way. Just know that if you open those son-of-a-bitching treats, you will summon a plague of the most insideous insects known to nature. If you would have done like I had asked and visited the numerous camping safety websites available to us on the information-rich Internet, you would have read that many dangerous creatures consider the scent of circus peanuts to be something like an aphrodesiac. Only instead of lust for eros, this particular scent triggers a much different lust. BLOOD LUST.�

Meryl broke away from her lover�s she-grip. �Don�t be a fool, Marisol! You fall prey to any paranoid raving you read on that electronic contraption! You�re incorrigable. I will now eat my circus peanuts, and you will see. Oh, you will see. And one day, we will laugh. And Marisol, the laughter will be at your expense.� She fetched the cellophane candy bag as Marisol looked on in horror.

�Don�t do this, my love,� Marisol pleaded.

�Yummy candy,� Meryl replied spitefully.

And quite unceremoniously for a woman plagued with spite, Meryl ripped the bag open. An ominous orange cloud wafted from the pouch. Meryl coughed as the cloud invaded her nostrils. �Yum,� she said. Marisol simply seethed in silence, arranging pesticides alphabetically on her prized �Anna and the King� Kamp�n Kozy.

�Now you�ve done it,� Marisol growled.

�Yes,� Meryl snapped. �I have done it now, haven�t I? We will just see what I have, in fact, done. We will just have to see, now won�t we?�

The two gave each other dirty looks for perhaps thirty seconds, which is a really long time if you are as in love as Meryl and Marisol. This domestic dischord was cut short, however, when Marisol sensed a slight buzzing noise.

�There. Did you hear that?�

Meryl clucked. �I only hear the pleasured smacking of my lips as I gobble my treats. Don�t be a paranoiac, beloved one.�

But the buzzing became louder. It was undeniable.

�Can you deny the buzzing now?� asked Marisol. �It�s becoming louder!�

Meryl bared her teeth, which were stained orange. �You didn�t have to tell me that. I�m not so codependant that I must trust you to interpret what I hear, after all.�

�I shall attribute your bitter comments to fear, my love,� Marisol said calmly. �Because I fear my circus peanut dread was not for naught. I think we are about to be assaulted.�

And true enough, out of the sky and up from the earth and down from the trees swarmed a hostile army of intruders.

�Oh my Christ!� Meryl shrieked, dropping her treats on the dirty earth.

�We�re being attacked,� Marisol barked, �by LAWYERS!�

It was at this time that Mr. Ming and M�tume returned to the campsite, each carrying generous supplies of firewood and buckets of festive found objects which they had intended for use as door prizes later in the evening. The two dropped their bounties, however, as they saw their lesbian friends being ambushed by deadly legal professionals.

�Lawyers!� Mr. Ming cried. �I am overcome with dismay!�

�I have no choice but to wholeheartedly agree,� proclaimed M�tume. �Our friends, besotted. Our campsite, besieged. Woe!�

�Let us enter this battle,� said Mr. Ming.

�Let us, then,� M�tume replied.

And so the four campers battled the poisonous lawyers, strategically spraying cans of Deep Woods OFF at the offending creatures. By the dozen, the smartly dressed men came thudding to the earth�s floor. The crunchy sounds of impacting laptop PCs made Meryl wince with horror. Marisol held her trembling lover protectively as the dying

lawyers twitched and expelled their deathrattles, their pale skins shining in the

moonlight.

�Oh, Marisol, I am so sorry,� Meryl sobbed. �You were right. I should have listened to you. And since you were right, I can only conclude that I was wrong.�

�Hush my baby,� Marisol replied. �I forgive you. But keep in mind that when we return home, I�ll need to ask that you compose a written version of your apology for my records.�

�You�re so wise, Marisol. You�re the first lover I�ve ever had who keeps a written archive of all of our arguments, organized by who was at fault per disagreement. You�re so good to me.�

�I hate to spoil the lovefest, ladies,� said M�tume, �but the worst isn�t over yet.� He pointed at the sky. �We�re about to recieve another wave of the creatures!�

�Oh God,� said Meryl. �God damn it! Shit! God! Shit damn it! Damn, damn, damn it! Oh! Oh, shit!�

�Your potty mouth will be no match for these bloodthirsty monsters of the wild,� intoned Mr. Ming, unbuttoning his cardigan for another round of battle.

As the next wave of creatures swarmed overhead, Marisol nervously consulted her Guide To Camp Pests reference book. �We�re really in trouble now,� said Marisol.

�Are we really in trouble?� asked M�tume.

�Yes we are,� replied Marisol.

�Can it be that the trouble we are in is real?� asked Meryl.

�It is a reality, yes,� Marisol responded.

�This trouble you keep mentioning. Can you verify its severity?� asked Mr. Ming.

�Due to the urgency of our crisis, I can only repeat this one more time,� Marisol said sternly. �We�re really in trouble now.�

It was at this time that more of the camping party arrived at the site. It would not be difficult to imagine the expressions of shock on the faces of poor Mjunter and Makmak as they discovered hundreds of doctors and data systems analysts attacking from the heavens.

�We have a saying in my native Iceland,� said Mjunter, �that nothing is more frightening than pure fear.�

�How true that is, Mjunter,� said Makmak. �How true that is.�

And so the doctors and the data systems analysts were fended off promptly, with yet another stern spraying of Deep Woods OFF. As the venomous creatures lay dying, Meryl wiped her sweaty brow. �That wasn�t very difficult at all,� she said. �Those doctors and data systems analysts were a piece of cake to kill.�

�Don�t be so cocky, sweetest pumpkin of mine,� replied Marisol. �While those two species may seem somewhat harmless, let me show you something that may shock you.�

Marisol snapped a twig from a nearby tree, and prodded one of the data systems analysts in his abdomen. His pale, thin skin ruptured, and from his body spilled over a thousand Goo-Goo Dolls CD Singles.

�Eggs,� Marisol said grimly.

Everyone gasped in dismay. �Bring me the lighter fluid,� droned Marisol, all bad-ass and authoritative. Makmak fetched the fluid and brought it to her. �Stand back, Makmak,� said Marisol. �I fear your parka is flammable.� And, after Makmak found his distance, Marisol set the squirming adult-contemporary maggots ablaze.

�Good lord,� Mr. Ming said. �The carnage is unspeakable.�

�It sure is,� said Mjunter.

Meryl began to break out into uncontrollable sobs. �I just had the most horrible thought,� wept Meryl. �I always believed it when people said �God don�t make no junk.� But it�s not true! God DOES make junk! He does!�

And then Meryl vomited into a nearby shrub.

�Don�t fall apart on me now, Meryl,� bellowed Marisol. �Not now. Not when we need you the most.�

Meryl wiped her mouth and spun around with what little anger was left in her tired yet voluptuous body. �Look around us, Marisol! There are upper-middle-class carcasses strewn all about our campsite! The gore is unspeakable, yet here I am, speaking about it! How do you think I feel, Marisol? Have you thought about that? I WANT TO GO HOME!�

�Then let�s get in the Aerostar and go home, then,� Marisol said plainly.

�I�m afraid that will be impossible,� M�tume said. �Look at your vehicle - it�s being eaten.�

The besieged campers looked toward the direction of the lesbian-owned vehicle with dread heavy in their hearts. Indeed, the recreation/utility automobile was being devoured, part by part - by a hive of accountants and a few various strains of Board of Trustees members.

�Destroy them!� screamed Mjunter.

�But look,� warned Makmak, pointing at the sky, �falling from the heavens!�

True enough, the sky became opaque with an onslaught of pro golfers - millions of them. Each had his own unique pair of ugly golf pants, and each was armed with his own can of Near-Beer.

�I think we�ve met our match,� M�tume said. �We�re outnumbered.�

�Don�t worry,� Marisol said calmly. �Don�t let them smell your fear. Stay calm.�

As the pro-golfers neared terra firma, they scattered in thousands of different directions, laughing stupidly and babbling about �condo shares� as they scattered away from the terrified camping party and deep into the woods.

�We still have to worry about the scavenging patriarchal archetypes dismantling your precious automobile!� said Makmak.

�Shall I beat them to death with this rusty sponge mop handle I found in the brush?� asked Mjunter, a glint of violence in his elf-like eye.

�The time for words has ended! I must take matters into my own hands, for all our sakes!� Mr. Ming exclaimed. �Well, don�t just stand there. Help me!�

M�tume remained silent and checked his watch. Actually, his watch had a function where you could push a little button and be able to play a fairly authentic version of the video game �Dig-Dug.� This is what M�tume actually did. He managed to get to the fifth level, where Dig-Dug encounters the slime-spitting red unicorn. M�tume could never get past that cursed unicorn, nor could he ever successfully destroy it. Flustered by yet another LCD failure, M�tume stopped playing his wristwatch video game and turned his attention back to the crisis at hand.

�Good lord!� cried M�tume. �Those creatures are destroying our only means of transportation back to civilization! Why are we just standing here?�

�I don�t know,� said Meryl.

And so, festooned with cans of Deep Woods OFF, the camping party ambushed the masticating accountants and Trustees. As the brave campers aimed their cans and sprayed, the offending professionals simply belched and laughed. Only a handful of them fell spasming to their final breaths, and these few had been sprayed by Meryl. She looked at her can. �NEW AND IMPROVED,� the can read. �EXTRA STRENGTH,� it said. �FRESH SPRING SCENT.� it proclaimed. Meryl panicked.

�Oh sweet God,� Meryl screamed. �I�m the only one of us who has an Extra Strength can of Deep Woods OFF! It�s the only spray that�s killing these accounting experts and major funding donors!�

�It�s a ruse!� Marisol shouted, over the din of munching metal and crunching glass. �They want you to micro-manage us! They�re playing a game!�

�Uh-oh,� one of the accountants said upon hearing Marisol�s advice, pieces of car grill stuck in his prying, capped mandibles.

And so our group of heroes sprayed the suited scavengers with all their might, and the creatures died on the spot, much to the relief of our heroes, who put everything they had into killing these savage monsters. After all, these monsters almost won, but our heroes destroyed them. But it took all their effort. It wasn�t easy. Because the evil monsters were particularly strong. So our heroes had to fight harder than when they did when they were fighting the other creatures (the doctors, lawyers, golf pros, etc.).

�That was close,� said Makmak.

�Yes, it was,� said Mr. Ming.

�We almost did not win,� said Mjunter.

�But we defeated the scary creatures,� said M�tume. �But only barely.�

�The bottom line is, we won.� said Marisol.

�Marisol is right,� said Meryl.

And all six of the campers sighed relief in unison. Except for Meryl, who coughed a little because she was standing upwind of one of the accountants, who had released his bowels upon his final death spasm. As she had already vomited earlier, she simply gagged a little and coughed upon catching wind of this morbid fecal reminder.

Makmak and Mr. Ming inspected the remains of the Aerostar. �I regret to inform you that our only means of transportation has been rendered unsuitable for use,� ranted Makmak.

�I disagree,� said Mr. Ming. �It�s my passionate opinion that if we attempt to drive this vehicle, we will be risking our safety. If indeed this automobile works at all.�

�That�s what I just said,� replied Makmak.

�Yes, I know,� said Mr. Ming. �I only meant to apply my own distinct perspective to the situation. Apparently you don�t consider that appropriate. I see how you are.�

�Please, Mr. Ming, don�t snap at me,� said Makmak. �We�ve all been through a lot. I only want to be your friend.�

Mr. Ming looked long and hard at Makmak. �My Eskimo friend, do you like cookies?�

�Why yes,� Makmak said, �I do.�

�Then shut up,� quipped Mr. Ming. �And Makmak, do you like cake?�

�Why, of course I love cake,� said Makmak.

�Then shut up.�

�I don�t understand any of this talk of yours,� said Makmak.

Mr. Ming smiled warmly. �It�s just a little game my grandfather taught me when I was a very little boy. You see, he would name a treat I enjoyed, and he would ask me if I liked that treat. I would say yes, and then he would tell me to shut up. I used to love that game. I played it with my siblings constantly, and it brought us hours of laughter and glee.�

�So you aren�t just being mean,� said Makmak.

�No. In fact, I apologize for my rash behavior,� said Mr. Ming.

�So you like me?� said Makmak.

�Yes, Makmak, I like you,� said Mr. Ming.

�Then shut up!� said Makmak, and everyone laughed and laughed.

�Let�s leave this corpse-infested campground,� said Marisol. �We can hitchhike back into civilization and tell one another many stories as we try unsuccessfully to beg for rides.�

�I think that sounds like a fine idea!� chimed M�tume.

�Okay, then, let�s do it!� said Marisol.

�When we find a city, let�s all go to Sizzler!� said Meryl.

�Okay,� said M�tume. �But not for the steak - for the salad bar.�

�Yes!� replied Meryl.

�Yes, yes, yes!� they all chanted, and as they abandoned their grisly camp site, they all sang a rousing chorus of Patrick Swayzee�s �She�s Like the Wind,� from the popular �Dirty Dancing� film soundtrack. Little did they know that this festive sing-along would only invite more catastrophe, but that is another story, because this story has now ended.

NOTE:I got asked about this story cuz it was on my old diary which has apparantly aged-out and ya can't read anymore, and so anyway I'm posting it again here now so it can be read again, so there.


2003-10-14 - Last Haiku
2003-10-09 - Don't Cry Out Loud
2003-10-09 - Sit Down, You're Making Me Nervous
2003-10-08 - I'm Sure Miss Thing, I'm Sure
2003-10-07 - Carbonated Water, Caramel Color, Aspartame

index
archives
profile
Uffish
Jonno
Kiera Bombshell
Wonderboy
Dogpoet
email
notes
design
host

chicago blogs