I woke up one morning to find my left arm in great pain. I glanced down at it and discovered my cat had sunk his teeth in it, and was pulling me in the direction of his food bowl. I couldn't quite figure out whether he wanted me to fill up his food bowl, or if he wanted to fill up his food bowl with me.
I got up out of bed, and looked to my left, the bones in my spinal column creaking and popping as I did so. Ouch. My fish tank. Where had that come from? Oh, that's right, I unearthed my fish tank in my excavations yesterday. I'm making pretty good progress there. In another week, I'll actually be able to see some carpet...
I decided that I might as well dump some fish food in the tank. You know, just in case. I manage to dig out the container of food, and open it. PHEEEEW!!! Man, that stuff stinks. I look at the expiry date, and the fading print seems to say September '68. Well, dead fish won't know the difference. Or so I thought.
I dumped about half a can in, and suddenly the thick green slime seems to burp. Ok, so something was probably rotting. That had to be where that gas came from, right? I took a closer look, and notice some movement. I quickly dug out a flashlight from somewhere, and pointed it into the tank. The bulb was flickering, but nevertheless I saw three fish skeletons. One of them had some flesh left on it, as if it only died a week ago. Either that, or the bacteria that would normally decompose it have died also. Everything was coated in this thick green/brown slime.
And then, just as the batteries gave out, I saw it. These five huge eyes just staring at me. I jumped back, not knowing that movement meant "lunch" to it. It leapt out of the tank and sank its fangs into my right forearm. OOUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH!!!!!
I picked up Grond and hacked at that thing, but nothing seemed to penetrate it. I quickly realized that in another few moments I wouldn't have an arm, so I went to my last resort. I picked up my flame thrower, set it to "Shake & Bake", and let it rip. That did it. The thing let go of my arm, and crawled away into some dark corner of my junk yard to nurse a deep grudge against me. Until my cat found it and ate it, that is...
I turned back to survey the damage done to my limb. Oh, isn't that nice. Let's see, biology class was right! There are two bones in there! Hmmm, this must must be the ulna, and here's the radius, and this dripping thing here is probably the extensor digiti minimi... My musings quickly came to an end when the shock wore off and the pain hit me like a ton of bricks. I scrambled out of my room, and went in search of the first aid kit. I found it, opened it, and inside I found 3 band-aids, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some lint, a piece of string, and a needle.
Well, there wasn't a whole lot to work with there, so I did the best I could. I poured the H2O2 over the shreds of flesh, and tried to ignore the fact that I was biting off my tongue. I then took the needle and string and sewed the strips of flesh back where I thought they belonged, and then I put the three band-aids on. I couldn't help noticing that they didn't stop the bleeding one bit. In fact, they were completely lost to sight through the gushing. Oh well.
I thought I was beginning to recover from that, when all of a sudden I began to feel drowsy. Must have been the loss of blood. I fainted. The next thing I knew was that I was in an ambulance with these really strange looking people hovering over me. And the tubes. There were a lot of tubes. If there's one thing I loath, it's tubes. But I was in no position to do anything about it now... I blacked out again.
I had this weird dream while I was unconscious. Maybe it was a near death experience. I was floating down a hallway, and on either side were massive pillars made of marshmallows, and they held up a cotton-candy ceiling. So far, so good. But all of a sudden these hands and arms popped out of the ground and tried to pull me down. One hand got a hold of my leg, and suddenly hands popped out of the ceiling too. They got a hold of my one remaining good arm. And they pulled, and pulled, and I felt my spinal column beginning to telescope. And suddenly this face appeared in front of me. "You shouldn't have done that!" it yelled into my ear. "What?" I yelled back. It just grinned, and then covered me in whipped cream and yellow Smarties. "Unleash the wild buffalo!" it shouted. Needless to say, I was getting a tad worried right about now.
And then I woke up. I was in a hospital bed, with the tubes I hate so much, and the curtains drawn around me. I looked over to my arm, and saw that my stitches had been redone. Darn. And I thought I'd done pretty well. I had even made a little pocket in my arm where I could hide things, like weapons or contraband. And here they had gone and ruined it. Oh well.
I decided that I felt fine, so I got up, ripped out the tubes... PAIN!!!... I'll never do that again... And went on my merry way, whistling a happy tune. It struck me as odd that I should be happy. One should never be happy, when one's arm-pocket has just been ruined. Well, who cares, it's a nice sunny day, and one should be happy.
Walking home, I began to notice a peculiar feeling spreading through my limbs. Looking down, I saw that my fingers had turned fluorescent orange. Wow, they were bright. I was glowing. And I realized that I should have stayed in that hospital. Obviously, some sort of venom from that thing was getting to work on me. I began to run.
BIG MISTAKE!!! The increased blood flow brought that venom to every part of my body. I was now glowing like a light bulb. People began to stare. I reached my door, got in the house, and went to look in a mirror. No wonder they were staring! The fluorescent orange had turned into a pink and purple pokadot swirl!
And then a finger fell off. I began to panic, even more so when my cat came in the room, ate the finger, and started using me as a scratching post. This did very little good for my dermatological situation. I ran outside again, heading back toward the hospital. I barely noticed that as I was running, more and more pieces of me were falling off. A finger here, a toe there, some hair, an ear, then an entire hand, a foot... Suddenly I tripped, and started rolling down a hill. I looked with surprise at the legs, arms and various other pieces of me that were falling around me. And then I saw my torso above me. Strange, when did my head fall off? Must have been when I fell... Wait a second, MY HEAD FELL OFF?!? Not good. Even stranger was the fact that I would be able to think about my head falling off, after it has fallen off. So, biology class was right again. The brain has a five second reserve of oxy...
- Doctor Strange
Little Known Facts About Doctor Strange
LISTEN UP!!! You just might see these on some sort of trivia contest some day, so pay attention!
At the beginning of the story, I mention Grond. He's my friend and bodyguard. He's an axe. Most of the time, he's polished, and you can almost see your reflection in him. Most of the time...
I also mention my Cat. My Cat's name is Max. Short for Max Murderer. He's killed more mice than anyone I know, and he enjoys it, too. He also has this fetish about black socks...
And somewhere up there, I also mention a flamethrower. Well, I'll admit, it's not a *real* flamethrower, but it does scorch pretty well. You see, you take a propane tank, fiddle with a blow torch attachment, make sure you're not pointing into the wind... 6 foot flames! <WARNING: Kids, don't try this at home... in fact, don't try this anywhere (near me)! This stuff's *dangerous* for crying out loud!>