going ape shit press #10 by darmok, lord of the underworld well, it's a creative handle... that's about all i can say... |<80OOoo=-------------------------------------------------------------=ooOO08>| It was Alex's day off, which was an oxymoron, because workaholics never give themselves a day off. He dedicated his day to planting an oak tree in the front yard, which is his wife's birthday present. He missed her, but this was the only day he can plant her gift without her being around. He made up the popular excuse that he had to work this weekend, he's allways working, so it was very beleiveable. But it also meant not having any help, being new to Ashton Falls, no one but family could help. It made no difference, though, the tree could not have weighed more than 60 pounds. So, he dug a hole deep enuf and found... did you ever find something that you were never meant to find? ... a trail... of ants. Rooted up from their homes, they were scattering all over, trying to burrow back into the ground. He stopped to take a glance, he'd never seen anything like it... hundreds of them, all involved in one thing, surviving. While he was transfixed on those little creatures, a mound of dirt collapsed onto his hand. Dismissing this tragedy as a trifle annoyance, he took off his gardening gloves to remove the dirt. But none of it was dirt, it was all ants. Quickly he tried to brush them off with his other hand, but they stayed on both hands, so he wiped his hands on his clothes, which just transplanted them. He shot them off with the hose, but they GREW back. GREW BACK! He used the hose again just to make sure he was seeing what he thought he saw. He cleaned off all the ants and watched in awe. The just sprouted out of the pores in his skin, like they grew eggs, hatched, and laid eggs as they were hatching. He raced into the garage and snatched a jug of insecticide splashing it over his hands. They died, but not before laying more eggs. He tried more and more bug killers. They dropped off dead, but not before laying more eggs deep within his skin, beating him to the punch. So he clasped his hands together as soon as the next wave was out. A crisp, happy, painful-sounding crunch was followed by Alex smiling. He kept his hands gripped to keep them from coming back. It would have worked, but, when an animal is trapped, it attacks. He felt them biting, gnawing, burrowing into his flesh, digging below the upper layer. He unclasped his hands and watched them unhatch once again. He could have sworn that they were happy with his defeat. He wished they would talk, just so he could hear them scream ass he crushed them between his fingers. It was maddening, just sitting there, watching them crawl over him, over each other, laying eggs, eating each other, laying more eggs, mocking him. One thing he notiched is that they never traveled farther than his wrists (and shirt). He deduced if he could just get rid of the ants on his hands, they won't come out anywhere else, because maybe they follow their own scent. It seemed like a good theory, so he grabbed the gasoline. He splashed gasoline on his left hand, because he was right handed, and, as an accountant, would only need his left hand to hold dowh the paper he would be writing on. He then took out his lighter, and set fire to his hand. His hand was hardly touched by the fire, but all the ants were, and they fluttered off his hand and onto the ground on fire. They grew back. He expected as much so he drenched his hand into a near by prepared bucket of water, and the ants just started swimming around. In the time it took Alex to dump ou tthe water and refill it, they grew back. He drenched the ant-ridden hand in gasoline several times with the same result. He felt very little of teh fire on his hand as the itch of little feet traced his skin, over and over. He wanted them off- now! So he plunged his left into the bucket of gasoline... but he didn't realize that his hand was still on fire. The gas reacted immediately with a booming thud of an explosion and immense pain as flesh was seared off. The thick rubber bucket was blown wide open like Elmer Fudd's rifle after Bugs ahd stuck his finger in it. As for his hand, numb with pain, he could not see thru the fire at the damage, or, more importantly, the ants. He plunged his hand into the water and still could not see through the steam, and then he saw. The ants had been completely blown off, along with all his fingers. He wished his wife, or anybody, had heard his scream. He figured it was so loud that she probably did hear it. No mroe ants would come through his skin now, because now, all that was left was a fused stump with some bones peering out. He completed the first part of his struggle, and the next part was easy, he took off his shirt, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the bonfire on his front lawn. He could imagine their screaming. He chuckled, because he knew he would win. The next part would not be so easy. Not being able to find anything else to kill them on his right hand, Alex tried to wrap it with a thick towel. Trying not to get them anywhere else, he made a fist around the towel and used his knee and teeth as arms to tie the knot. Such extreme caution was used so as not to get them anywhere near his face. If he did that, he knew it would be all over. But, using the towel, he made an airtight pocket starting on his wrist completely engulfing his hand. He could still feel pin-lick pricks over his hot, sweaty skin. His adrenaline stopped pumping and he had time to decide calmly what to do next. It was night, he could not be able to do anything about the ants on his front lawn until he couls see them, otherwise, it would be a disaster. He had not eaten all day and the thought of it now disgusted him. He was running on empty, and quite uncontrollably, he collapsed into a pleasant and dreamlike sleep. He did not remember any dreams in the morning, except one: the ants. But was that a dream? No... he still felt them, like pins and needles, all over his hand, and in his mouth? He stumbled hurriedly into the bathroom and saw what he felt: the ants had some how torn through the towel on his hand, made it across his pillow, and were now on his cheek, and on the tip of his tounge. "Oh god, don't swallow, whatever you do, just don't swallow." A string of obsenities was blabbered out after that, as he jumbled across his room, found his keys, got into his car, and drove to an exterminator's nearby. After all that cursing, which made his tounge move, the ants were now all over the inside of his mouth. By the time he got there, they were crawling all over his tounge, lips, under his tounge, biting, eating, piercing his skin to lay eggs. Practically totaling his car, he raced screaming into the exterminator's shop. Two middle-aged idiots who looked like they had been sniffing fumes for far too long, stopped their lunch break and looked at each other. What would your reaction be to some screaming weirdo with a thing for ants? But it was what alesx was screaming that kept them from calling the police... it sounded like "Please, do whatever you have to get them off." They were now running all over his chin, covering his mouth, making him nautious. The urge to swallow was unbelievable. The twi 'idiots' grabbed a several-gallow jug of insecticide that would kill practically anything it touched. They emptied the whole contents on Alex's right hand and watched. The killing acid burned through the ants, dissolving their little bodies, he saw them writhe in pain just before they burst open like pouring salt on a slug. The the killer toxin tunneled through his skin destroying the egs, and severing his nerves. He felt the liquid tear holes in his pores, neutralizing all feeling in his hand whatsoever with a numbing hot burn. But it was better than ants. His releif was over soon... He swallowed. He felt them swim down his throat, embedding themselves in his tender flesh, grabbing on with those hook like legs and laying their young. The the young would sprout, and he saw the knife... The sharp butcher's blade for the workmen's lunch glistened invitingly in the incredibly dull light. Alex's mind worked fast. Slicing his wrists would be far better than living a life with this insect plague inside him. But what about the two workmen? The would sure call for help. What if he kills them? No. Why ruin two other lives? Maybe after teh slashing his wrists he could stab himself in the eyes? A quick blade puncturing his brain would turn him into a vegitable but at least he would not feel these ants! Alex tried his best to resume sound thinking as the workmen watched this lunatic pace around their shop. The phone rang but they did not answer it. With Alex's somewhat calm thinking came feeling, feeling not about his wife, that was not important to him now, he felt the ants. Laying eggs, hatching, eating each other, laying eggs, hatching, being dissolved in saliva, laying eggs, hatching, he felt parts of them liquifying and oozing down his throat. He could not help it, he vomited, pools. He had his eyes open as he felt his shouldters and throat burn as his stomach acids pumped the ants onto the floor. He did not, could not, stop. Once his stomach was empty, a thin stream of bile pooled in the center of vomit. Ants disintegrated in the puddles of juices as did their tunnels in his throat. He won. When Alex was released from the hospital, he set fire to the remaining infestations near his house. explained the whole story to his wife, whom you will forever now find him by her side, moved to the city, (with no bugs whatsoever) and enjoyed his sacrifical virtory. Because now, huge pockets of air exists where nerves used to be on his hands and mouth. It made Alex realize what was missing in his life; his wife, leisure, happiness, things he took for granted then, but would kill to have now. Now, everything is different, and hsi state of mind is impossible to deal with. Maybe he will recover, it just goes to show, some things were not meant to be tampered with. |:<00OOoo\= goddamn! do you realize how much i had to type out??? that entire thing i had to transcript from a typed paper... well at least now i know that i could be a professional typist.. =] |:<00OOoo\= end propaganda and all that lovely stuff...