Reading time: 14 minutes.
Please enjoy this culmination of ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS from yesterday’s
Please click the link to see all 30 comments that were suggested in the previous post. They are highlighted in bold here in the story, as well. Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I hope you enjoy YOUR story! I had a blast writing it (with Alex’s input, too).
Thanks, again, cronies! Enjoy! ❤︎
Note: A correction is in order. In the audio reading, I inadvertently said 2006 instead of 2016! 😄😄
❦ The Kingsfield Cannibal ❦
WRITTEN BY: All of Us!
In 2016, George Gustavo Phillips was a young, hipster graduate of the prestigious Montego Bay Institute of Scientific Research in Kingsfield, Maine, USA. The exotic sounding name of his alma mater alone hailed students from near and far, all the way from Bangor, even. He’d finished his 12 week course in record time and found himself in an equally prestigious job before the ink had even dried on his certificate.
George had been born to yuppie parents Jack and Jill back in the swingin’ 90’s. His mom and pop epitomized the answer to the age old question: “What DOES it mean to grow in love?” They were the last of the great romantics, he always thought.
As crappy luck would have it, though, George, himself was not faring too well in the love department. He’d recently lost his long beloved fiancé, Maya (a first rate phone sex operator and star student), in an unfortunate elephant trampling.
Their very last conversation together went something like this:
Maya: “Well, what DO you think of my job?”
George: “Let’s just say, I’d be a little more impressed if you could perhaps spell, let’s see, how about the word ‘antidisestablishmentarianism’?”
Maya: “Really, Georgie, does that word even exist?” She had her doubts.
George (ever the superior one): “Why, yes, Maya. It is a word! I learned it in my first week at the institute. Remember the exam question that talked about the loss of momentum that occurs when a scientific cause, law, movement etc. is stalled and left alone, and the questions to answer were: how do you bring it back to an actionable state? Or is it dead in the water forever?”
Maya (dazzled by George’s brilliance): “Yes, GG, I do remember that exam problem. You slayed it, too, baby!”
George: “Yeah, well, that’s not what antidisestablismentarianism is, babe.” She giggled girlishly at his gentle joshing.
Maya: “Oh, George! You’re just as silly as Professor Pharaoh, who sings along with his students in my “Classroom Management 101” class!”
George (breaking out in a minorly improvisational, albeit gangly dub step): “Yeahhhhhh!!!! What!???? Ok!? Those fellas in your class are DEFINITELY future lil John’s of Thailand! Jessayin’, sweet thang!”
Maya leaped up and started boogeying right alongside George, happy as a micro pig in a cashmere sweater. They danced to the rap music in their heads for a while as their dogs joined in on the treadmill.
After a few minutes, the couple realized they were hungry.
George (in an embellished southern drawl): “Git yer cute ass in the kitchen, Maya baby! Can’t wait to see what you cook up for me tonight!” He knew full well that they only had crackers and cheese in the cupboards that week.
Maya (smiling): “Triscuits and pizza sauce?”
George: “Genius idea, love!! You know it’s two of my favorite things, girl. Don’t disappoint me, now! Be sure to add some of that cheesy spray!”
He’d always thought that the triscuit was the perfect combination of cracker and doormat, but with Maya’s magical touch, they tasted like heaven to him.
Maya headed toward the barren kitchen.
George was just about to smack her on her cute little ass when just then…
AN ELEPHANT WALKED RIGHT INTO THEIR LIVING ROOM!!!
They’d left their sliding glass doors open and had completely forgotten the fact that the circus was in town.
The shocked couple shrieked in terrified unison as the baby elephant, Bessie, having just escaped and clad only in pink converse high-tops, ran right over George’s beloved Maya, flattening her like a pancake right there before his astonished eyes!
“Y ME????!!!” George croaked in a strangled scream as Maya whispered on her final breath her last words to him, forever engraved on the pages of his heart:
“Good luck, GG. Always remember, photosynthesis IS important for life. You are an amazing writer, too, so don’t worry about the grant proposals for your work. I wish you fun through this puzzle called life. I love you…..”
And then she was gone as the blood from her corpse made a crimson lake over the embossed lettering of the wedding invitations they’d been working on. “The Lion and the Aries Woman Get Married” dissolved into murky nothingness.
In the first of what would be many strange thoughts in the months to come, George wondered longingly what Maya’s blood tasted like.
Bessie was still in the kitchen rummaging through the bare cupboards with her trunk and braying like three dinosaurs with toothaches as George got up to call 911.
That was one year ago, today.
On this sad anniversary of his fiancé’s unfortunate trampling by an escaped elephant in pink high-tops in their living room last year, George woke up in the same droll manner as he had since his life changed that tragic day. He’d just pulled himself from another bizarre nightmare.
In last night’s episode of “George’s Loony Dreams,” an alien sat in an adjoining booth at Denny’s where George had been enjoying a late night breakfast with his favorite nasty funtart.
In a funny voice, the alien shrilled at the woebegone waitress: “Why IS that dog in that coffee cup, anyway?!”
The alien then leaped up like a ballerina on point and began to flit all around the dining room before running outside and leaping onto the roof of the packed eatery. The alien then jumped off the roof, turned into Optimus Prime, and THEN morphed into a beautiful lioness before squatting in the parking lot to pee on a discarded pancake in the shape of Maya’s lovely face.
George began to weep in his dream, when, in the style of Miles Davis’ “My Funny Valentine” the lioness suddenly began crooning:
♪ ♫ “And when is retrograde egg salad going to show it’s moon over my hammies? When did the space ship come home and how? What happened to Froto and Billbo Baggins? Do people ever get their names cleared? Da dee dah dee….do doo bee doobie doo” ♪ ♫
Soon after, George was awake and confused.
Besides the kooky dreams, Maya’s death had seemingly brought about various questionable afflictions and behaviors in GG. His online friends at Word Press told him the only thing missing in his life was a little confidence. But, his online shrink at “Blogging for Bitches” assured him he only suffered from bi-sexual promiscuity, cannibalism, covert narcissism, histrionic, AND borderline personality disorders (no biggie!).
The latter of the two criticisms and feedback comforted him greatly, while the former infuriated him no end. After logging on this morning, GG clicked “like” on his shrink’s recent masterpiece and knew he’d spend the rest of his day waiting for the next post.
“Mon…day…(yaawwwwn)…oh…Monday….really…where’s my damn coffee…?” was his first thought after he signed off.
He quickly caught his negative attitude and began to recite his morning mantra. “Mondays inspire me to drive and thrive” he chanted silently over and over.
Then, “Monday! The beginning of a week full of possibilities!” He knew his Maya would’ve liked that one.
The chanting wasn’t working for him. Plus, he kind of had other (more pleasant!) ideas for motivating himself every morning. *salacious wink*
He reached down beneath the covers.
Visions of Maya danced in his head to start himself off with. He remembered what a sight to behold it was whenever she’d “met with herself.” He’d always had a weakness for sexy women and poetry…and Maya embodied ALL of that and more! No sooner had George begun his morning “exercise”, when his right hand fell right to sleep. He was annoyed by the pins and needles.
“I’d give my right hand to be ambidextrous…right now!” he thought to himself as Yogi Berra popped into his head.
Instant boner killer.
“So, this is what it’s come down to, huh, you old sad sack?” George chuckled to himself as he headed to the shower…secretly wondering whom he was gonna have for dinner tonight.
Thoughts of last night’s “social” activities came drifting back to him as he lathered up.
Last evening, GG had picked up his new favorite companion from Cannibals Anonymous, Whory Cory. He’d invited the fine young cannibal for “dinner and drinks” and then for a night dip in the pool at his condo. He knew the security guard clocked out at 10 sharp and the bathroom would be all theirs for whatever activities their depraved little hearts could dream up!
In his car, with the top down, blazing down the freeway with the wind blowing in their hair, and the strains of Linkin’ Park blaring through the cold night air, they fought for the top spot in conversation with each other. It NEVER occurred to either of them to turn the radio down. Those crazy kids were, well, CRAZY like that!
George didn’t hear him very well, nor was he really listening as Cory shrieked at the top of his lungs:
“… but enough about me…Let’s talk about you…How do YOU like MY dress⁉️”
GG found Whory Cory’s histrionics hilarious!!
“I’m definitely loving it!!” he shouted back, grinning ear to ear. He stared at the androgynous 22 year-old sitting next to him, clad only in a tutu, a purple leotard, and man Uggs with a matching murse. God, he was beautiful. No words could describe him. GG’s hunger for him was insatiable, throbbing.
He couldn’t wait to taste him…
Moments later, they’d arrived at the only bar in Kingsfield that welcomed their kind. In no time at all, the liquor was flowing as GG and Cory joined a group of computer nerds in town for a big computer expo. The millennial techies were mouth-wateringly ripe for the picking.
One of the taller members of the group soon sidled up to George and they quickly adjourned to the men’s room. As the techie bent to kiss him, GG bit into his puffy lip and tore off the sweet meat!
“Nom, nom, nom, nom!” George smacked his lips as he savored the techie’s succulent soft flesh!
“Mmm…tastes like chicken!” GG growled as he gobbled the rest of the fella’s face.
When he’d had his fill, he dropped the tall techie’s corpse there in the stall before he washed up and went out to the bar to collect his nasty little funtart. The CA meetings had been helping Whory Cory as was evident when GG found him snacking on some french fries at one of the tables. Swooping in, he randomly shouted out to NO ONE in particular:
“I’ve always been led to understand that here are only 10 types of people on this planet.. those who UNDERSTAND binary and those who don’t!” He flailed his arms in the air just like the bank robbers from “Point Break” and headed toward the exit.
He and Cory walked out the door of the bar with everyone laughing so hard at his joke!
As the night air hit their satisfied faces, the men skipped merrily arm in arm down the street. They’d made it a few feet and then….
Out of the sheer blue, George’s heart skipped a beat when out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw her across the street…
Could it really be?! HAD his darling Maya returned from the dead?!
George could not believe his bloodshot eyes. He shrugged the nasty little funtart off of himself and started across the busy street. He stopped short as cars zooming by impeded his path to his beloved Maya.
Trapped momentarily on the sidewalk, he shouted to her over the traffic, “MAYA!!! Say something, please Maya!! Talk to me, Please!!!!”
Maya shrugged her shoulders helplessly before shouting back: “I can’t, George! The COMMENTS ARE CLOSED!”
It was right then that George realized that he had absolutely no idea what was real and what was imaginary anymore.
He fainted right there on the sidewalk in Whory Cory’s bewildered arms. 🤠
© 2017 khp. all rights reserved.
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