Boy, has it been a long stretch since we peeked in on Night Of The Java Beast!
*****
It was a beautiful day for a picnic: Clear skies, sunny, and eighty-degrees with just a breath of wind. But the Evans family wasn’t going on a picnic. They were rural people, farmers, real salt-of-the-earth types; and there were chores to be done. No time for dilly-dallying like city folk or tourists. Alas, today might make them reconsider their priorities. After today, they might take time to dally a few dillies, and spend precious time with their loved ones.
Little Molly Evans scattered feed for the hens, and watched as they pecked every kernel from the ground. Would she have stood by so casually, had she known the horror that waited for her just around the corner?
A great, eight-legged thing most closely-resembling a giant octopus lumbered toward the Evans farm. Catching the scent of living creatures, its appetite was stirred, and it began to stalk warily along the small stand of trees at the property’s edge. As it approached the coop, the chickens began to squawk loudly, flopping up and down in their panic. The girl, having not yet seen the creature, was baffled at the birds’ behavior.
"What is the matter with you all?" she asked.
Without warning, the huge thing swept in, tentacles undulating wildly! Molly shrieked and fled to the shelter of the farmhouse. The chickens, however, were not so lucky. Naught but a few feathers remained in the creature’s wake as it headed menacingly for the corral.
The crack of a rifle sounded: once, twice. Ben Evans jacked the shells out of the shotgun and reloaded. By now, he had the beast’s attention. He took more careful aim this time, and both bullets struck the thing’s side--and bounced off! It hissed and charged the man, its arms quavering with rage!
*****
The phone rang. "Sheriff’s office. Yes, this is he. What can I do for you? A what? Octopus? But that’s a water animal–they don’t come up on land. Uh-huh. Now, Annie, are you sure it wasn’t just a big spider you saw? Uh-huh. Well, alright. If you’re sure. Yes, Cal’s here with me. I’ll ask him to come along. We’ll be there pretty soon. G’bye, Annie."
*****
"Eight legs, Sheriff! With suckers all over one side! It ate Ben! That–monster–ate my husband, Sheriff! Swallowed him down with one gulp!"
"And the chickens!" Molly piped up. "It ate up all my pretty chickens! It was gonna eat the horses, too, but Daddy shot it–so it ate up Daddy instead!" Fresh tears rolled from her eyes.
I put my arm around her. "Well, Molly, we’re gonna make sure that this–whatever it was--doesn’t eat up anyone else’s daddy. If this thing is really the way you described it, we’re gonna need a scientist on our side. Dr Hazelwood lives around here, and he’s an expert on mutations in marine biology. I’ll give him a call as soon as we get back to town."
*****
"Oh come now, Cal! You have a single report--one witness! I think we can safely discount the little girl. Children have overactive imaginations. You’ve studied psychology, Cal. People faced with traumatic events often make up fantastic stories as a way for their subconscious minds to deal with what they’ve seen!"
"Then what happened to Evans–and the chickens?"
"I’m sure I don’t know. Maybe a coyote got the chickens, and Evans chased after it into the desert."
"Would that be traumatic enough for them to make up such a story?"
"Maybe. It’s just one of a number of things that might possibly have happened. All I’m saying is, until you have more evidence that it’s more than that–or another sighting–I’m not coming down there. My work is too important to go chasing after every bogey man reported by crackpots or hysterical women! Goodbye." click
"Goodbye, Hazelwood," I grated. "I hope that thing comes to your house, next."
*****
More chapters here.
Showing posts with label Night of the Java Beast. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Night of the Java Beast. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Friday, October 05, 2007
Chapter 20: The Java Beast is Spotted!
That's right, John Agar fans! Another chapter of Night Of The Java Beast has emerged from the primordial gumbo!
*****
The dry early morning desert air was heating up and going stale so as to become the embarrassment-inducing dry late-morning-approaching-the-noon-hour desert air. My trusty black 1949 convertible was purring along the nearly empty highway, and the lovely Linda was purring right along with it.
“Oh Cal! The desert seems so desolate and empty, but it’s not frightening at all! Back in Indiana I never would have imagined it, but… it’s beautiful! I can see why you love it.”
“The view is certainly wonderful from where I’m sitting,” I said, smiling with my voice full of macho charm. Thank goodness for bench seats and a complete lack of seat belt laws! She slid in closer, and I snaked my right arm around her, steering with my left. Occasionally I hugged her tighter to me as I reached down to shift into higher gear and show the girl what the machine was really capable of. You may think that this is impossible, but not for me, Cal Parker, square-jawed hero of this story!
The invisible orchestra faded out our love theme and began to play something alarming and atmospheric in a minor key as a pillar of smoke appeared on the horizon. Linda’s eye’s widened, and her voice trembled as she pointed to the smoke.
“Cal? What’s that over there?”
Had she been watching the traffic signs rather than spending the whole drive staring adoringly at me—and who could blame her?—Linda might have seen the sign reading “Los Arroyos - 7, San Morteño - 13.”
“That looks like Los Arroyos!”
It was. What had been a small, tight-knit community of big-hearted people was now a ghost town—a flattened, crumbling ruin of a ghost town. Any survivors of the destruction had no doubt fled, but the number of crumpled wrecks in streets and parking lots led me to believe that there had been none.
“Cal! What happened here?”
My own ignorance of the situation and inability to concoct a decent, comforting lie to hide that fact disturbed me beyond my wildest imagination. I was completely out of my element, here!
“I—I don’t know…” I said.
“And what’s that horrid stench?” Linda went on, wrinkling her nose but still managing to look like the cute girl reporter she was. “It smells like someone dragged a ship-load of fish through the wreckage.”
“Phew! I don’t know what that is, either, but I’d bet anything that it has something to do with that.” I pointed to what looked like a giant octopus oozing across the desert in the vicinity of San Morteño. “We've got to find a phone!”
*****
The calamity continues!
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
*****
The dry early morning desert air was heating up and going stale so as to become the embarrassment-inducing dry late-morning-approaching-the-noon-hour desert air. My trusty black 1949 convertible was purring along the nearly empty highway, and the lovely Linda was purring right along with it.
“Oh Cal! The desert seems so desolate and empty, but it’s not frightening at all! Back in Indiana I never would have imagined it, but… it’s beautiful! I can see why you love it.”
“The view is certainly wonderful from where I’m sitting,” I said, smiling with my voice full of macho charm. Thank goodness for bench seats and a complete lack of seat belt laws! She slid in closer, and I snaked my right arm around her, steering with my left. Occasionally I hugged her tighter to me as I reached down to shift into higher gear and show the girl what the machine was really capable of. You may think that this is impossible, but not for me, Cal Parker, square-jawed hero of this story!
The invisible orchestra faded out our love theme and began to play something alarming and atmospheric in a minor key as a pillar of smoke appeared on the horizon. Linda’s eye’s widened, and her voice trembled as she pointed to the smoke.
“Cal? What’s that over there?”
Had she been watching the traffic signs rather than spending the whole drive staring adoringly at me—and who could blame her?—Linda might have seen the sign reading “Los Arroyos - 7, San Morteño - 13.”
“That looks like Los Arroyos!”
It was. What had been a small, tight-knit community of big-hearted people was now a ghost town—a flattened, crumbling ruin of a ghost town. Any survivors of the destruction had no doubt fled, but the number of crumpled wrecks in streets and parking lots led me to believe that there had been none.
“Cal! What happened here?”
My own ignorance of the situation and inability to concoct a decent, comforting lie to hide that fact disturbed me beyond my wildest imagination. I was completely out of my element, here!
“I—I don’t know…” I said.
“And what’s that horrid stench?” Linda went on, wrinkling her nose but still managing to look like the cute girl reporter she was. “It smells like someone dragged a ship-load of fish through the wreckage.”
“Phew! I don’t know what that is, either, but I’d bet anything that it has something to do with that.” I pointed to what looked like a giant octopus oozing across the desert in the vicinity of San Morteño. “We've got to find a phone!”
*****
The calamity continues!
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Friday, June 22, 2007
Chapter 21: Send In The Artillery!
“Get me General Zation!” I repeated. The phone connection was terrible. “Yes, that’s right--Zation! General I. Zation, to be specific! And tell him it’s important!"
Several uncomfortable minutes later, I was connected with General Ignatius Zation.
“Hello, General. Do you remember Luxembourg, 1943? Well, I’m calling in that favor, now, Sir. We have something over here you won’t believe, and we need all the firepower you can spare! And don’t worry, this target’s too large to miss.”
Before long, the valley was filled with an olive green convoy of National Guard jeeps, personnel carriers, howitzers, Sherman tanks, hydrogen tanks, fish tanks and T’anks for the Memories… They roared in to form a semi-circle to the south of the creature.
The sudden increase in activity irritated the monster like a mob of perky people in the early morning. It turned its great slimy bulbous head and stamped toward the cheerful olive drab pests. Suddenly, the beast stopped short, unable to see them because of their camouflage paint job. It hissed angrily.
The olive smudge began barking at the creature, and with the loud reports came a swarm of stinging insects and lots of white smoke. Though its mind may have been stunted by mutation, the thing still knew that smoke meant fire, and fire meant danger and pain! Unwilling to flee, the altruistic beast pressed forward to eliminate the source of the harsh smoke, which was burning its eyes and throat. If only it had tried the new Camel, now in soothing menthol!
As the creature drew closer, it could again see the individual green nuisances, some of which were occasionally flashing brightly and releasing more flying insects to bite and sting. With a wet snarl, the beast stretched forth a broad, sucker-covered tentacle and swept aside a tank, two jeeps, a howitzer—which jammed and continued to fire automatically into the amassed artillery brigade to its immediate east—and an untold number of shouting soldiers. Blind animal rage increasing, the creature slashed westward with its appendage.
“Fall back!” ordered General Zation.
*****
This chapter of Night of the Java Beast has been brought to you by humor-blogs.com and Camel, now with soothing menthol to ease your T-zone. That’s “T” for “Taste” and “T” for “Throat”! Try a Camel!
Several uncomfortable minutes later, I was connected with General Ignatius Zation.
“Hello, General. Do you remember Luxembourg, 1943? Well, I’m calling in that favor, now, Sir. We have something over here you won’t believe, and we need all the firepower you can spare! And don’t worry, this target’s too large to miss.”
Before long, the valley was filled with an olive green convoy of National Guard jeeps, personnel carriers, howitzers, Sherman tanks, hydrogen tanks, fish tanks and T’anks for the Memories… They roared in to form a semi-circle to the south of the creature.
The sudden increase in activity irritated the monster like a mob of perky people in the early morning. It turned its great slimy bulbous head and stamped toward the cheerful olive drab pests. Suddenly, the beast stopped short, unable to see them because of their camouflage paint job. It hissed angrily.
The olive smudge began barking at the creature, and with the loud reports came a swarm of stinging insects and lots of white smoke. Though its mind may have been stunted by mutation, the thing still knew that smoke meant fire, and fire meant danger and pain! Unwilling to flee, the altruistic beast pressed forward to eliminate the source of the harsh smoke, which was burning its eyes and throat. If only it had tried the new Camel, now in soothing menthol!
As the creature drew closer, it could again see the individual green nuisances, some of which were occasionally flashing brightly and releasing more flying insects to bite and sting. With a wet snarl, the beast stretched forth a broad, sucker-covered tentacle and swept aside a tank, two jeeps, a howitzer—which jammed and continued to fire automatically into the amassed artillery brigade to its immediate east—and an untold number of shouting soldiers. Blind animal rage increasing, the creature slashed westward with its appendage.
“Fall back!” ordered General Zation.
*****
This chapter of Night of the Java Beast has been brought to you by humor-blogs.com and Camel, now with soothing menthol to ease your T-zone. That’s “T” for “Taste” and “T” for “Throat”! Try a Camel!
*****
The management here at the lab has asked me to clarify that ICFAB does not endorse the use of tobacco products. Even soothing menthol ones.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Is it dead?
“Unfortunately, no, Timmy. Allen’s Brain is caffeine-based, like the Java Beast. Apply even a little caffeine directly to his gray matter, and he would rise up and do unspeakable acts—blog, even!”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I've got a tight grip on this cup o’ Joe—Oops!”
“Timmy! You fool! You've doomed us all!”
*****
Normally, I would be spending this week with 130 5th & 6th graders. (That's right. I am a masochist!) However, the camp shifted the schedule around, and I won’t be doing that for almost a month. My subconscious seems to know that it’s camp week, though, because everything seems a bit “off.”
“Earth to Bugs Bunny. Are all systems go?”
“Bugs Bunny to Earth. Eh, no, Doc. All systems are not go. Everything is kinda’ stop.”
"This must be Thursday," said Arthur musing to himself, sinking low over his beer, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays." – The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
*****
Lex Luthor’s Fluctuating Oscillotron must be back in service again. The price of a gallon of regular unleaded gas went for $2.79 to $2.99 over night.
*****
Another chapter in the inversely-unfolding story, "Night of the Java Beast," is due any day now. Don't say you weren't warned!
“Well then, it’s a good thing I've got a tight grip on this cup o’ Joe—Oops!”
“Timmy! You fool! You've doomed us all!”
*****
Normally, I would be spending this week with 130 5th & 6th graders. (That's right. I am a masochist!) However, the camp shifted the schedule around, and I won’t be doing that for almost a month. My subconscious seems to know that it’s camp week, though, because everything seems a bit “off.”
“Earth to Bugs Bunny. Are all systems go?”
“Bugs Bunny to Earth. Eh, no, Doc. All systems are not go. Everything is kinda’ stop.”
"This must be Thursday," said Arthur musing to himself, sinking low over his beer, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays." – The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
*****
Lex Luthor’s Fluctuating Oscillotron must be back in service again. The price of a gallon of regular unleaded gas went for $2.79 to $2.99 over night.
*****
Another chapter in the inversely-unfolding story, "Night of the Java Beast," is due any day now. Don't say you weren't warned!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Chapter 22: Humanity's Final Stand
This is a prequel, of sorts, to chapter 23.
*****
The long day was stretching into late afternoon like spandex pants the day after Thanksgiving. Everywhere the creature went, destruction followed in its wake. A wide swath of splintered wood and crumbling adobe marked the spot which once had been the pleasant village of San Morteno. Then it was the depressing slum of San Morteno. Now, it was merely the radioactive wreckage of San Morteno.
As the beast slithered into the open field on the other side of the empty highway, bits of detritus could yet be seen clinging to its tentacles. One discernible piece was a portion of a sandwich board reading "THE END IS NEAR!" We could only hope that this surviving scrap was a sign from an Intelligence greater than our own that the peril imposed by the monster was coming to an end, and not that the existence of man himself was nearly finished. Still others put their hope in the oracle preserved on the other half of the sandwich board: "EAT AT ED'S."
The National Guard had long since exhausted their options along with their ammunition, and had been reduced to keeping order among the panicking crowds. Like my commanding officer used to say, “Crowds are always just one step away from becoming an enraged mob, and two steps away from becoming a psychotic polka party. It’s best to simply keep them at bay with fire hoses.” Those are generally words to live by, but with the water shortage in California, and the fact that the people who had gathered were not in danger of rushing toward the beast, the Guard simply kept a wary eye on the thing. That eye was mine.
Throughout all the madness of this day, Linda had been at my side. “Cal,” she said, “I don’t think this monstrous… monster…” she started. I loved it when she was at a loss for words. It was a rare occurrence, sure, but it let me get a word in edge-wise, and occasionally a kiss (also edge-wise), but this was not one of those moments.
“Cal, I don’t think it’s from around here! I mean, maybe it’s from a different planet, even. Do you think maybe we should call a scientist to help?”
“Darling, you took the words right out of my mouth! That was really unhygienic, but I’ll let it go this time, what with civilization being on the cusp of destruction and all. But don’t you remember, I already called Dr Hazelwood--the one scientist I know—two reels back, and he flat refused to help us!”
“That’s only because I was working on a way to stop my—er, this—creature!”
“Doc Hazelwood! Good of you to join us!” I said.
“Well, it was the least this old man could do to--” he hung his head and mumbled the rest, “to stop the trouble that I started.”
“That you started, Dr Hazelwood?” Linda was horrified and struck with disbelief. “I’m horrified! I don’t believe you!”
I, on the other hand, was completely unaffected by this news. I’d begun to suspect Hazelwood when he refused to help us, and I wasn’t really paying attention, since the monster was on the move again—toward us, this time.
“Dr Hazelwood, can you stop this thing? CAN it be stopped?” My gosh, I said that well!
“Since the octopoid’s mutations came about through high doses of humor-blogs.com, Strontium-90 and caffeine, I think we can destroy it by flooding it with a barrage of gamma radiation. Give it a high enough dose, and the mutated cells will become too unstable to hold together any longer.”
It sounded fishy, but it was the only option we had. We unloaded the professor’s ray gun and pointed it at the approaching beast. It twitched and pulled back a moment, then charged ahead.
Linda gripped my well-developed right bicep until numbness set in. “Oh Cal, it’s not working! What’ll we do?” She looked to me as if all her hopes and dreams rested on my saving the day. How could I say no to her impassioned vote of confidence? It was time to play the hero! It was time to be a man!
“Dr Hazelwood!” It was time to delegate responsibility. “Why isn’t it working?”
Hazelwood wasn’t there. He had rushed off to his car.
“Crank up the power, Boys!” I shouted. “Let’s show this thing who’s boss!” When they made a movie about this, that line would go in the trailer.
“Yes Sir!” they replied. That line probably would go in, too.
“Wait!” It was the professor. “The ray just needs to be better focused on the creature!”
He shuffled out toward the monster with a large translucent disc in his hand. He held it above his head and stepped directly under the beam of radiation. The lens was working! The beam began to pierce the thing’s tough hide!
The pain-maddened beast lashed out at Hazelwood with a thick tentacle. Creator and creation both screamed as one. I looked away and shut my eyes tightly…
*****
The long day was stretching into late afternoon like spandex pants the day after Thanksgiving. Everywhere the creature went, destruction followed in its wake. A wide swath of splintered wood and crumbling adobe marked the spot which once had been the pleasant village of San Morteno. Then it was the depressing slum of San Morteno. Now, it was merely the radioactive wreckage of San Morteno.
As the beast slithered into the open field on the other side of the empty highway, bits of detritus could yet be seen clinging to its tentacles. One discernible piece was a portion of a sandwich board reading "THE END IS NEAR!" We could only hope that this surviving scrap was a sign from an Intelligence greater than our own that the peril imposed by the monster was coming to an end, and not that the existence of man himself was nearly finished. Still others put their hope in the oracle preserved on the other half of the sandwich board: "EAT AT ED'S."
The National Guard had long since exhausted their options along with their ammunition, and had been reduced to keeping order among the panicking crowds. Like my commanding officer used to say, “Crowds are always just one step away from becoming an enraged mob, and two steps away from becoming a psychotic polka party. It’s best to simply keep them at bay with fire hoses.” Those are generally words to live by, but with the water shortage in California, and the fact that the people who had gathered were not in danger of rushing toward the beast, the Guard simply kept a wary eye on the thing. That eye was mine.
Throughout all the madness of this day, Linda had been at my side. “Cal,” she said, “I don’t think this monstrous… monster…” she started. I loved it when she was at a loss for words. It was a rare occurrence, sure, but it let me get a word in edge-wise, and occasionally a kiss (also edge-wise), but this was not one of those moments.
“Cal, I don’t think it’s from around here! I mean, maybe it’s from a different planet, even. Do you think maybe we should call a scientist to help?”
“Darling, you took the words right out of my mouth! That was really unhygienic, but I’ll let it go this time, what with civilization being on the cusp of destruction and all. But don’t you remember, I already called Dr Hazelwood--the one scientist I know—two reels back, and he flat refused to help us!”
“That’s only because I was working on a way to stop my—er, this—creature!”
“Doc Hazelwood! Good of you to join us!” I said.
“Well, it was the least this old man could do to--” he hung his head and mumbled the rest, “to stop the trouble that I started.”
“That you started, Dr Hazelwood?” Linda was horrified and struck with disbelief. “I’m horrified! I don’t believe you!”
I, on the other hand, was completely unaffected by this news. I’d begun to suspect Hazelwood when he refused to help us, and I wasn’t really paying attention, since the monster was on the move again—toward us, this time.
“Dr Hazelwood, can you stop this thing? CAN it be stopped?” My gosh, I said that well!
“Since the octopoid’s mutations came about through high doses of humor-blogs.com, Strontium-90 and caffeine, I think we can destroy it by flooding it with a barrage of gamma radiation. Give it a high enough dose, and the mutated cells will become too unstable to hold together any longer.”
It sounded fishy, but it was the only option we had. We unloaded the professor’s ray gun and pointed it at the approaching beast. It twitched and pulled back a moment, then charged ahead.
Linda gripped my well-developed right bicep until numbness set in. “Oh Cal, it’s not working! What’ll we do?” She looked to me as if all her hopes and dreams rested on my saving the day. How could I say no to her impassioned vote of confidence? It was time to play the hero! It was time to be a man!
“Dr Hazelwood!” It was time to delegate responsibility. “Why isn’t it working?”
Hazelwood wasn’t there. He had rushed off to his car.
“Crank up the power, Boys!” I shouted. “Let’s show this thing who’s boss!” When they made a movie about this, that line would go in the trailer.
“Yes Sir!” they replied. That line probably would go in, too.
“Wait!” It was the professor. “The ray just needs to be better focused on the creature!”
He shuffled out toward the monster with a large translucent disc in his hand. He held it above his head and stepped directly under the beam of radiation. The lens was working! The beam began to pierce the thing’s tough hide!
The pain-maddened beast lashed out at Hazelwood with a thick tentacle. Creator and creation both screamed as one. I looked away and shut my eyes tightly…
Friday, March 09, 2007
Chapter 23: All Horrid Things Must Come To An End!
The great hideous creature lay in a crumpled, smoldering heap, like 18 weeks of college laundry that have been suddenly set ablaze. Occasionally, one of its horrid tentacles would twitch, stirring up a curlicue of smoke. It had been fortunate that Dr Hazelwood had finally discovered how to properly focus the gamma rays in such a way as to harm the monster, but I can’t help being a bit sad that the good doctor had to give his life in order to defeat the beast.
“Oh, don’t feel bad for Dr Hazelwood,” said Linda, whose lithe form I now clutched tightly to my well-muscled chest.
“What makes you think I feel bad for him?” I asked
“You were narrating out loud again,” she said with a sultry look. “Oh Cal, you know what that does to me!”
As I stared deeply into those baby blue eyes of hers, I knew that she would never leave my side, and I’d never ask her to.
“After all, Cal, it was Hazelwood’s own experiments with humor-blogs.com and Strontium-90 that created that… thing. It’s a kind of poetic justice that he died destroying it.”
I never could resist a vengeful woman! The music swelled as I planted a kiss on her soft lips that the movies would have been proud of.
Suddenly the beast began to thrash wildly about, sending more ash and smoke into the air. I suspected it was merely the creature’s final death throes, and would have gone on believing so until…
“Cal, what’s that smell?” asked Linda, tearing herself from my intoxicating kiss.I sniffed the air. It smelled like coffee.
“Oh that!” I chuckled, “The monster died in one of California’s many coffee groves. The gamma rays must have set some of the bushes on fire, roasting the beans. Don’t worry, the firefighters have arrived and are soaking the area thoroughly.”
Linda gazed up at me, a worried look on her face. “But Cal, the creature is caffeine-based! Roasted coffee beans, plus all of that water—”
“I. Live. Again!” The beast bellowed, and rose up on its many tentacles.
“Linda, my darling,” I whispered, "I’ll see you in the sequel, now that The Java Beast Is Reborn." And I knew in my heart of hearts, that somewhere in the sky above us, gigantic eerie letters spelled out “NOT THE END!!!!!”
“Oh, don’t feel bad for Dr Hazelwood,” said Linda, whose lithe form I now clutched tightly to my well-muscled chest.
“What makes you think I feel bad for him?” I asked
“You were narrating out loud again,” she said with a sultry look. “Oh Cal, you know what that does to me!”
As I stared deeply into those baby blue eyes of hers, I knew that she would never leave my side, and I’d never ask her to.
“After all, Cal, it was Hazelwood’s own experiments with humor-blogs.com and Strontium-90 that created that… thing. It’s a kind of poetic justice that he died destroying it.”
I never could resist a vengeful woman! The music swelled as I planted a kiss on her soft lips that the movies would have been proud of.
Suddenly the beast began to thrash wildly about, sending more ash and smoke into the air. I suspected it was merely the creature’s final death throes, and would have gone on believing so until…
“Cal, what’s that smell?” asked Linda, tearing herself from my intoxicating kiss.I sniffed the air. It smelled like coffee.
“Oh that!” I chuckled, “The monster died in one of California’s many coffee groves. The gamma rays must have set some of the bushes on fire, roasting the beans. Don’t worry, the firefighters have arrived and are soaking the area thoroughly.”
Linda gazed up at me, a worried look on her face. “But Cal, the creature is caffeine-based! Roasted coffee beans, plus all of that water—”
“I. Live. Again!” The beast bellowed, and rose up on its many tentacles.
“Linda, my darling,” I whispered, "I’ll see you in the sequel, now that The Java Beast Is Reborn." And I knew in my heart of hearts, that somewhere in the sky above us, gigantic eerie letters spelled out “NOT THE END!!!!!”
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