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« on: September 08, 2006, 05:35:36 PM » |
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Haha, more fun finding hilarious short stories that I wrote back in the day! I wrote this one in the same class, but this was an "exercise". It's nothing that I put too much though into, basically we had one night to write a story about whateverthefuck we wanted to write about. Go figure, this is this kind of shit that's in my brain at 2am the night before the assignment is due. Hey, I got an A, though, bwahahahahaha!
Oh, and just so you know, this is quite possibly the single most retarded thing that I have ever written... and that's exactly why I like it so much, haha!
All gone wrong…
"Harry! It's all gone wrong, everything has gone horribly wrong!"
Quickly swiveling around in his chair and diverting his attention from the bubbling beakers and test tubes that he had been working with, Harry looked at his assistant in disbelief. The frightened look on Puddington's face said it all; his usually plump and jolly face had turned into a saggy, horrorstricken mass. He stood in the doorway of Harry's office, wide-eyed and panting heavily with sweat beading down from the top of his bald head. Breathing heavily from the long run down the stairs that lead to Harry's dungeon-like office, Puddington slammed the door closed and made his way over to a large bookshelf. Without hesitation, he pushed with all of his weight against the bookshelf; knocking off various encyclopedias and experimental records as he strived to reach the door.
Harry stood motionless watching his plump, out of breath colleague barricade the door in a futile attempt to stop what was inevitably making its way down the stairs into the exit-less office that the two were trapped in.
"Don't just stand there, Harry, help me!"
Harry snapped out of his state of shock, now angry and frustrated—how could this have happened? They were so careful... but apparently, not careful enough.
"Puddington, how did this happen? How did you let it get out?"
"It doesn't matter anymore! Everything's gone wrong; you have to help me—"
Puddington's efforts would prove useless; before he could finish his sentence, the area around the door exploded with violent force. Years of research and development flew off of the makeshift barricade's shelves, dust and dirt erupted with volcanic rage, and woodchips splintered in every direction as Puddington flew across the room. As the dust settled, Harry squinted to see through the slowly settling cloud that enveloped the creature that had broken through the wall. It was here, The Dominator.
A twelve-foot-tall hamster stood in the doorway.
This was their creation—the genetically altered super-hamster was at least twice as ferocious as a normal hamster, and its strength was that of thirty-three and a half men. Through the smoke, the beast's eyes glowed with a fiery red. The ground shook as it slowly walked into the room; as it approached, the maniacal hamster dragged its fierce claws on the floor, causing the tile to emit a terrible shrieking sound. The beast had been engineered to do two things; run in continuous loops on a circular treadmill, and kill with no mercy. The Dominator was supposed to be used as a replacement for military soldiers; a genetic super-creature that could run for miles at a time and annihilate multiple squads of enemy troops with one swipe of its deadly claws. Somehow, Puddington had unleashed the beast from its cage, and now, the two scientists were going to pay the ultimate price.
Harry quickly hid behind his desk, hoping to evade the monster's wrath for as long as possible--Puddington, however, did not have that option. He lay helplessly in the comer, pinned down by the very bookshelf that he had hoped would save him. The Dominator approached its pudgy prey slowly, still dragging its claws on the floor making that awful screeching noise. Puddington wriggled like a fat, juicy worm on the end of a hook as the monster impaled the portly scientist with its razor-sharp claws. The Dominator held its meal in the air like a big carrot before chomping Puddington in two with its humongous buck-teeth. Harry sat behind his desk, motionless, hoping that the hamster-beast wouldn't notice his presence, but there was just too much dust in the air. Suddenly, he let forth a loud sneeze, giving away his position. He knew it now, he was going to die. How could one man hope to escape the wrath of such a beast? Realizing the hopelessness of the situation, Harry slowly turned and stood to face the infinite power of The Dominator...
--END--
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