My OperaCanoodler's Comeuppance (A Short Story)
Saturday, August 12, 2006 9:18:45 AM
And now … a story!
(But first, you might want to check out the post that inspired it!
)
Hunter sat back luxuriatingly in his favourite chair on his deck, overlooking Vancouver. Surrounded by his carefully-cultivated plants, this was where he relaxed after work.
It had been a particularly stressful day. Grating, in some ways. The Minister had come to visit, for a start - something everyone had been preparing for the entire week, but something nobody could really have prepared for. Worse, perhaps, was the Minister['s …
But, no … forget about all that, he thought. Enough. Don't bring the stresses of work home. After all, he told himself, this was his sanctuary from all that.
Work could sometimes be depressing.
Depressing sucked.
Perhaps his new diet was throwing him off … ?
Then again, perhaps not.
He'd certainly found lately that (when he managed to find time to jog) he could run farther and farther before he lost his breath. Somehow, it was all coming easier to him now. Which, of course, granted him the cardiovascular fitness he required to make the most of his new bike … !
Musing upon such things, Hunter suddenly noticed movement out of the corner of his eye …
A ladybug … !
"You beautiful little treasure", he thought to himself, reaching to delicately cradle the small leaf of the Bloody Butcher Tomatoes upon which the ladybug walked. "Lovely little weapon of mass aphid destruction. Please, enjoy the Aphididae fruits of my garden. Eat as many of the little buggers as you can … "
However, before he could further admire the delicate creature, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the wet, squelching sounds …
Knowing what he'd see, but turning regardless, Hunter saw his neighbours - plainly visible through the window - canoodling away.
As the moist sounds continued to assault his ears, Hunter - without being consciously aware of it - took the hand he'd been using to gently cradle the ladybug's platform and closed it into a fist, crushing the poor insect.
"Canoodlers … ", he whispered, the syllables dripping from his lips as though they were composed of a kind of venom even a particularly unhappy snake would find distasteful …
"Feh", he said, tossing away his glass of wine in a huff.
As it sailed over the edge of his deck, spilling its contents on the way (some of it landing on the deck), to hit a passer-by, Hunter continued his muttering …
"All the damn noise they're making - those wet, squelchy sounds of horrible wet squelchyness - no wonder I can't get a wink of s … "
… and, as he stood to go inside, he slipped on the aforementioned puddle of the wine left behind after his throw …
" … neeeeeeep!"
The crash of him hitting the deck didn't disturb his neighbours in the slightest. Thus, they had no way of knowing just how angry he'd become …
… which is immaterial, really, considering the fact that they couldn't possibly have prepared themselves for Hunter's rage, in any case.
Gritting his teeth, hands clenched into fists, Hunter stood up and rushed …
… to his lab.
Not his work lab. Not the lab where he'd been working on things to help mankind.
No.
His own private lab …
"I'll voil their little plans", he muttered to himself.
"Feh".
A few hours later, Hunter - armed with nothing more threatening than a plate of cupcakes - knocked upon his neighbours' door.
"Hello", he muttered pleasantly, as they stood there, hair dishevelled.
"I'm your neighbour. I just thought I'd welcome you to the neighbourhood with these … "
They thanked him, grabbed the plate, shut the door, and immediately resumed making wet, smoochy noises, this time with some degree of muffling (as they - presumably - stuffed the cupcakes into their mouths as they smooched).
Feeling a little ill, but giddy with anticipation, Hunter returned to his perch on the deck.
He didn't have to wait long.
There they were … back at the window … canoodling again …
But this time …
… they were about to be joined by something else.
Resisting the urge to have a full-blown Sally Field Moment, Hunter merely settled back in his chair on the deck, the glow of his multicoloured lights behind him. Fortunately, it was also dinner time, so Hunter had some food with which to enjoy the show. Perched on a huge tray in front of him was something the writer of this story decided to copy and paste into the text from a blog post by a person that has nothing to do with the protagonist of this story: fresh-baked bread smothered with grilled zuchinni marinated in olive oil and rosemary, which was lightened by the acidity of Campari tomatoes.
He also had a whole bunch of other stuff, too (that wasn't Cup-a-Soup and crackers with too much butter), but the writer didn't want to cut-and-paste any more.
The entertainment, of course, was provided by Hunter.
Well, by Hunter's secret home-lab work.
You see, Hunter had been working on something to attract aphids.
He hated them.
And that was precisely why.
Hunter figured that if he attracted as many as he could - say, with some sort of pheremone that only aphids found stimulating - he could then spray them with some sort of natural, non-toxic bug spray, killing them in their millions.
And, thus, being a scientist, he (of course) figured out a potent aphid-calling smell.
Which he sprayed on the cupcakes he gave his neighbours.
Now, the neighbours - stomachs full of cupcake-laced aphid-exciting spray - were interrupted in their canoodling …
… as millions upon millions of aphids swarmed from all over Vancouver, madly trying to find their way to the pheremones.
Of course, the easiest way the millions upon millions of aphids could get to the pheremones was by entering the mouths of the canoodlers and forcing their way into their stomachs …
"Heh", Hunter chortled.
"Heh heh", he chortled again, crusty bread spilling from his mouth in glee as the canoodlers exploded at the window.
"Next I'll have to work out some way to stop those bloody fireworks … ", he added, before taking a sip of his wine, turning in his seat to face the sunset, and enjoying the remainder of his late-afternoon/evening, which now promised to be a lot quieter.
Copyright © 2006 by David Scott Aubrey
All Rights Reserved
1,040 Words
This short story is a work of fiction. Any and all names, characters and/or incidents are either products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Where any such resemblance may exist to actual persons (living or dead), actual events or locales, it is purely coincidental.
Please don't assume that my characters speak for me or carry my own opinions on various matters in any way, shape or form (though some might … you never can tell).
If you're of a mind, hitch a ride on the arrow of time and come on back next week!
(But first, you might want to check out the post that inspired it!
)Hunter sat back luxuriatingly in his favourite chair on his deck, overlooking Vancouver. Surrounded by his carefully-cultivated plants, this was where he relaxed after work.
It had been a particularly stressful day. Grating, in some ways. The Minister had come to visit, for a start - something everyone had been preparing for the entire week, but something nobody could really have prepared for. Worse, perhaps, was the Minister['s …
But, no … forget about all that, he thought. Enough. Don't bring the stresses of work home. After all, he told himself, this was his sanctuary from all that.
Work could sometimes be depressing.
Depressing sucked.
Perhaps his new diet was throwing him off … ?
Then again, perhaps not.
He'd certainly found lately that (when he managed to find time to jog) he could run farther and farther before he lost his breath. Somehow, it was all coming easier to him now. Which, of course, granted him the cardiovascular fitness he required to make the most of his new bike … !
Musing upon such things, Hunter suddenly noticed movement out of the corner of his eye …
A ladybug … !
"You beautiful little treasure", he thought to himself, reaching to delicately cradle the small leaf of the Bloody Butcher Tomatoes upon which the ladybug walked. "Lovely little weapon of mass aphid destruction. Please, enjoy the Aphididae fruits of my garden. Eat as many of the little buggers as you can … "
However, before he could further admire the delicate creature, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the wet, squelching sounds …
Knowing what he'd see, but turning regardless, Hunter saw his neighbours - plainly visible through the window - canoodling away.
As the moist sounds continued to assault his ears, Hunter - without being consciously aware of it - took the hand he'd been using to gently cradle the ladybug's platform and closed it into a fist, crushing the poor insect.
"Canoodlers … ", he whispered, the syllables dripping from his lips as though they were composed of a kind of venom even a particularly unhappy snake would find distasteful …
"Feh", he said, tossing away his glass of wine in a huff.
As it sailed over the edge of his deck, spilling its contents on the way (some of it landing on the deck), to hit a passer-by, Hunter continued his muttering …
"All the damn noise they're making - those wet, squelchy sounds of horrible wet squelchyness - no wonder I can't get a wink of s … "
… and, as he stood to go inside, he slipped on the aforementioned puddle of the wine left behind after his throw …
" … neeeeeeep!"
The crash of him hitting the deck didn't disturb his neighbours in the slightest. Thus, they had no way of knowing just how angry he'd become …
… which is immaterial, really, considering the fact that they couldn't possibly have prepared themselves for Hunter's rage, in any case.
Gritting his teeth, hands clenched into fists, Hunter stood up and rushed …
… to his lab.
Not his work lab. Not the lab where he'd been working on things to help mankind.
No.
His own private lab …
"I'll voil their little plans", he muttered to himself.
"Feh".
A few hours later, Hunter - armed with nothing more threatening than a plate of cupcakes - knocked upon his neighbours' door.
"Hello", he muttered pleasantly, as they stood there, hair dishevelled.
"I'm your neighbour. I just thought I'd welcome you to the neighbourhood with these … "
They thanked him, grabbed the plate, shut the door, and immediately resumed making wet, smoochy noises, this time with some degree of muffling (as they - presumably - stuffed the cupcakes into their mouths as they smooched).
Feeling a little ill, but giddy with anticipation, Hunter returned to his perch on the deck.
He didn't have to wait long.
There they were … back at the window … canoodling again …
But this time …
… they were about to be joined by something else.
Resisting the urge to have a full-blown Sally Field Moment, Hunter merely settled back in his chair on the deck, the glow of his multicoloured lights behind him. Fortunately, it was also dinner time, so Hunter had some food with which to enjoy the show. Perched on a huge tray in front of him was something the writer of this story decided to copy and paste into the text from a blog post by a person that has nothing to do with the protagonist of this story: fresh-baked bread smothered with grilled zuchinni marinated in olive oil and rosemary, which was lightened by the acidity of Campari tomatoes.
He also had a whole bunch of other stuff, too (that wasn't Cup-a-Soup and crackers with too much butter), but the writer didn't want to cut-and-paste any more.
The entertainment, of course, was provided by Hunter.
Well, by Hunter's secret home-lab work.
You see, Hunter had been working on something to attract aphids.
He hated them.
And that was precisely why.
Hunter figured that if he attracted as many as he could - say, with some sort of pheremone that only aphids found stimulating - he could then spray them with some sort of natural, non-toxic bug spray, killing them in their millions.
And, thus, being a scientist, he (of course) figured out a potent aphid-calling smell.
Which he sprayed on the cupcakes he gave his neighbours.
Now, the neighbours - stomachs full of cupcake-laced aphid-exciting spray - were interrupted in their canoodling …
… as millions upon millions of aphids swarmed from all over Vancouver, madly trying to find their way to the pheremones.
Of course, the easiest way the millions upon millions of aphids could get to the pheremones was by entering the mouths of the canoodlers and forcing their way into their stomachs …
"Heh", Hunter chortled.
"Heh heh", he chortled again, crusty bread spilling from his mouth in glee as the canoodlers exploded at the window.
"Next I'll have to work out some way to stop those bloody fireworks … ", he added, before taking a sip of his wine, turning in his seat to face the sunset, and enjoying the remainder of his late-afternoon/evening, which now promised to be a lot quieter.
Copyright © 2006 by David Scott Aubrey
All Rights Reserved
1,040 Words
This short story is a work of fiction. Any and all names, characters and/or incidents are either products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Where any such resemblance may exist to actual persons (living or dead), actual events or locales, it is purely coincidental.
Please don't assume that my characters speak for me or carry my own opinions on various matters in any way, shape or form (though some might … you never can tell).
If you're of a mind, hitch a ride on the arrow of time and come on back next week!
(14%)
JCLJCL_75 # Saturday, August 12, 2006 9:30:39 AM
That was amazingly funny. You managed to typify Hungryghost superbly. I could just imagine him going around doing all those things.
"Sneep" - hilarious - different context but so well placed.
I'm glad to see that you are back, Clean
JCL.
Cleanclean # Saturday, August 12, 2006 10:06:39 AM
Just had an idea for the story. One of those things where you have to write it down or you'll forget it (which happens to a lot of my ideas). So, I figured ... what better place to write it down than here ...
Sansanshan # Saturday, August 12, 2006 11:52:59 AM
Sarah angel292005 # Saturday, August 12, 2006 1:18:47 PM
AMAZING!! You really brought this ghost to life! Sandy, I think she is my twin, same feelings exactly.
DavidRavo # Saturday, August 12, 2006 2:54:25 PM
hungryghost # Monday, August 14, 2006 6:42:04 AM
A new post - a lovely short story with ladybugs and aphids in it. What a fantastic topic you've chosen. Great characterizations too!
Hunter - what a wonderful person he sounds like, so charming yet devious, so intelligent and decisive, so placid outwardly, yet boiling with passions inside. Probably very handsome too, and sounds like the type who'd look great in an edgy leather vest...
(yes still obsessing)You can tell he's kind and "one with nature" the way he communes, mediates, and handles nature (save for that one poor little crushed ladybug, but I'm sure that was artistic licence - all for the dramatic moment. Because I'm sure Hunter would never knowingly harm a ladybug
(despite the little red carcasses with black dots on them in the upturned shade of his floor lamp)And the dastardly canoodling neighbours, such a suitable ending for them, to be exploded by aphids. Yes. The perfect circle of hell for them. Ahh.
I do love stories with a moral (and cupcakes) to them!!!
Happy moving Mr. CLean, I hope all is working out well and in order down under.
Salspooksister # Monday, August 14, 2006 7:03:54 AM
Cleanclean # Monday, August 14, 2006 10:28:04 AM
hungryghost # Tuesday, August 15, 2006 6:46:43 AM
Allanricewood # Tuesday, August 15, 2006 9:16:36 AM
Johnhalf_tech # Wednesday, August 16, 2006 10:10:34 PM
Cleanclean # Thursday, August 17, 2006 12:19:27 PM
Uncle MickMickeyjoe-Irl # Thursday, August 17, 2006 8:47:46 PM
There I go again.
hungryghost # Saturday, August 26, 2006 5:49:52 AM
Blog Blog BLOG BLOG!!!!!!
We need our fix
Hope the move is going well and now plug in your computer and write. Please.
Pretty please with pink sprinkles on it?
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Tuesday, August 29, 2006 9:24:12 PM
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Thursday, September 21, 2006 5:37:42 PM
Sansanshan # Thursday, September 21, 2006 11:02:58 PM
Cleanclean # Friday, September 22, 2006 7:18:30 AM
Thanks all around for the warm welcome-backs!
(Now I've just gotta think of something to post on Sunday!)
hungryghost # Friday, September 22, 2006 7:30:07 AM
JUST POST!
hungryghost # Friday, September 22, 2006 7:30:08 AM
JUST POST!
hungryghost # Friday, September 22, 2006 7:40:01 AM
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Friday, September 22, 2006 9:05:13 AM
yes! welcome back!
so, the kitties have been sick... hmmmm.
Cleanclean # Saturday, September 23, 2006 1:26:48 PM
Ahh. On the Pollyanna side, it's good for the skin!
Er ...
Sansanshan # Saturday, September 23, 2006 2:01:33 PM
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Saturday, February 24, 2007 12:41:50 PM
Cleanclean # Saturday, February 24, 2007 11:19:24 PM
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Saturday, February 24, 2007 11:22:13 PM
i can tell you one gross about mice!
we had a outside drain in our city rental that got clogged full of leaves and my hubby, then boyfriend, decided to clean it out... and came up with a hand covered in putrid fur....
Cleanclean # Sunday, February 25, 2007 11:28:37 AM
dɹɐzılpǝkɔıw ɐʞɐ ɹǝɥgɐllɐg lǝbɐsıwickedlizard # Sunday, February 25, 2007 12:46:22 PM