Thursday, February 25, 2010

On a Sea of Oatmeal

Captain Tenebrio Molitor made his way across the deck, double-checking the efforts of his crew. They were a novice crew and knew little of the affairs of the sea. Despite this, their Admiralty had made its inexplicable decision and the crew was promptly dumped onto the ship, Endeavor.

The Captain approaches his Executive Officer, expecting the news of the day. "How goes it?" Molitor asks.

The XO laughs. "They learn quick. Blocks and tackles are being blocked and tackled, the sails are set, the lines are taught and slack as needed. Everything is working as it should, Captain."

Molitor frowns. He knows the XO is hiding something. "What is it? Be honest. I am no tyrant."

"Well, sir, we seem to be going nowhere."

A laugh. Molitor nods in acknowledgment and peers over the side of the ship to the sea below. "Yes, well, the waters are unusually calm." The Captain continues his examination up to the sails. "And the winds seem to be still. Are we in doldrums?"

"It's possible, sir. The weather is strange here, and the sky..." There is fear in the XO's voice.

"What?"

The XO shakes his head. Perhaps it is nothing. "The sky is filled with strange things."

Almost in confirmation of the XO's concerns, a peculiarity occurs. In the clear glass sky, something blocks out the light. A giant shape eclipses the heavens beyond and, eerily, two large eyes appear out of nowhere.

***

"What the Hell?" Jonathan's temper isn't usually a problem, but what he stares at sends a rush of anger through his bones. As if in disbelief, he turns to check a bowl behind him. A bowl that usually has dozens of his son's pet mealworms, living in relative bliss as they burrow, sleep, and feed upon their bed of oatmeal. A bowl that is currently empty.

Jonathan blinks, and turns back to his beloved ship-in-a-bottle, now crawling with those same mealworms, seemingly afloat on a sea of Quaker Oats.

"Kevin!" he screams. "Get your butt up here, now!"

***

Tenebrio Molitor looks to his Executive Officer. "I guess our voyage is over."

His XO smiles, then glances at the cork snugly placed in the mouth of their bottled world. "Good thing, too. We probably don't have a lot of oxygen left."

17 comments:

subby said...

Oh damn! Great twist at the end, sir! And I bet he lost his bowels when he checked that bowl, wot?

Tom said...

oh geez. I was wondering how you were going to work Bottle into this story.

anthonynorth said...

Loved the twist in this. Well done.

Alan Burnett said...

You do dialogue well.
You do Theme Thursday well (but that's another comment)

Baino said...

Fun post. "Endeavour"? James Cook's lusty boat. I like the cut of your jib Jeff! I remember getting little glass animals out of cereal packets as a kid, can you imagine the uproar if that happened today!

Brian Miller said...

nicely done jeff. an easy gentle read with a great twist...

Harnett-Hargrove said...

whoa.... 'Night Gallery' for mealworms! -J

Tess Kincaid said...

Mealworms?! ICK.

Wings said...

Mealworms aside... A cute piece from you???

Kat Mortensen said...

Now that is sheer genius!

Following you on Networked Blogs through FB. (It's easier for me to keep up that way.)

Kat

She Writes said...

They were a novice crew and knew little of the affairs of the sea. Despite this, their Admiralty had made its inexplicable decision and the crew was promptly dumped onto the ship, Endeavor.

I had to read the beginning again after discovering the end. This part made me laugh out loud second time around. You are always good for a twist. This piece was an unexpected side of you, Jeff.

Sending laughter across the page.
xxa

Betsy said...

eeew...wasn't expecting that! ha.

Dreamhaven said...

What a wonderfully twisted imagination you have. My post also involves a ship in a bottle.
Happy TT.

tut-tut said...

I love this! great twist.

California Girl said...

I was also trying to figure out where you'd go with this. Funny!

Stephanie said...

WTH is a mealy worm? Good take Jeff - you hooked me right in!

BEBOP said...

That was great.

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