The Rogue EscargotThey came. . .You could hear them from a mile off. That thundering slurping sound struck fear into the hearts of the people of Winterville. The Rogue Escargot. They were coming. . . * * * * "Mornin' Flem." "Mornin' Clem." A sniff was heard. The bounty hunters Flem and Clem were taking their weekend break at their snail ranch. They were renown throughout the Southeast for their daring exploits, especially against the escargot. Of course, they never got a break on the weekends. This was when they were asked to help people in dire need; usually people without money, to their disappointment. Right on cue, a boy of about 10 rushed up to the brothers. "Mr. Clem, Mr. Flem, the escargot just hit Winterville! Slippy himself was at the head of the herd! You gotta do something!" he shouted. Clem was the business manager, being the more talkative of the two brothers, but Flem was the treasurer, being older and having gone to school longer. "When did this happen? Are you sure it was Slippy and the Rogue Escargot and not the notorious peanut butter named Scippi?" demanded Clem. Flem sniffed. "Just an hour ago. I was the only one who escaped. What notorious peanut butter?" asked the boy, sounding confused. "You're the only one who escaped? What's your name boy?" Clem said without explaining himself. Flem sniffed. "My name's Salty. I'm going to be a bounty hunter like you guys when I grow up," Salty said proudly. "Doesn't he talk?" he asked, indicating Flem. "Oh, he talks. Not often though. He gets all choked up, you know," Clem answered. "So Slippy's at it again. He had an eye patch, peg-pseudopod, and a mustache?" "Yep. It was Slippy alright. He even had a tattoo on his shell that said 'I fry for no one'," Salty answered. Slippy was the meanest, ugliest escargot in the whole of the Wild Southeast ever to be fried by a crazy Frenchman. He was once just a humble garden snail, but when he was cooked by a master chef, he went wild and slimed the chef. Slippy lost an eye stalk to the brave chef, who fought in vain to preserve his dignity. Slippy fled the restaurant and traveled the Southeast, gathering other Rogue Escargot under his leadership and terrorizing small villages. Winterville was a city, and if only one person managed to escape, things might be looking bad for our heroes. Clem thought for a moment. "Well, it looks like what we need-" Clem paused for emphasis. Emphasis? I never was good in vocabulary. How can I pause for emphasis if I don't know what it means? Clem thought. *I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL AUTHOR. IF I SAY YOU PAUSE FOR EMPHASIS, YOU PAUSE FOR EMPHASIS!* But I don't know what it means! *TOO BAD. I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS. NOW FINISH YOUR SENTENCE. THAT'S AN ORDER! * Oh all right, but I still don't- *AHEM! * "-is a plan," Clem finished with a baleful glare at the author, who sat on the fence, busily typing away at an old-fashioned typewriter. Baleful? What- *SHUT UP!!* Geez. Don't burst a blood vessel. Clem thought at the author. Flem sniffed in amusement. "A plan? What do you suggest?" Salty asked. "Well, first we need some bread, some turkey, ham, and roast beef," Clem began. "Grape jelly, salt, pepper, mayonnaise, butter, lettuce; the crinkly kind, not the flat stuff. Then you spread the mayonnaise and the jelly on the break and-" "Wait a minute! I meant, what should we do about the escargot, not your plan for lunch!" Salty said with a shudder of horror at what Clem had described. Flem sniffed in horror. "Oh, that plan. Well. Here's the plan... * * * * "Aaaahhhh!!!-" squelch. splat. splunk. Another person was dragged off screaming, covered in snail gunk. Slippy grinned with a look of maniacal glee on his face. At least as much of a maniacal grin as a snail with one eye and a mustache can make. "Ha! I'll show them! They can't keep a snail down forever, I say," he laughed insanely. "But sir, you're not a snail, you're escargot," a passing Rogue Escargot said. "Quiet! I know that. You don't have to remind me," Slippy said as he whacked the guard on the head with a dead trout. "Now get back to work." "Soon, I Slippy, the Great Rogue Escargot, will rule all the Southeast, and no one, not even Flem and Clem, will stop me!" Slippy cackled happily. A loud sniff interrupted his cackling. "I don't think so, Slippy!" shouted Salty as he ran into town with Flem and Clem. Flem sniffed in agreement. "Ack! It's you! Guards, get them!" shouted Slippy as he waved his dead trout. The guards converged on Flem, Clem, and Salty. "All right guys! This is it! Get ready!" Clem said as he pulled out a spray bottle. "Take this!" he said and sprayed the nearest escargot. Flem, Clem, and Salty attacked the Rogue Escargot with their spry bottles. The escargot fell over with a splat. "Cool! What is this stuff?" asked Salty in amazement. "Lemon-garlic sauce. It's a secret recipe we got from the restaurant that cooked Slippy," Clem answered. "Nooo!! I am undefeated!" Slippy cried in anguish. "Ultimate Escargot! Get them!" Five huge escargot came and attacked our three heroes. Flem slipped behind a fallen escargot. He knew that this was no ordinary batch of mutated fried snails. "Oh no! This stuff doesn't work on them! What are we gonna do, Mr. Clem? Is it all over?" cried Salty. "Aaaaaaaacccccckkkkkk ! ! ! ! You're right! They've already been drenched in lemon garlic sauce. Ours doesn't affect them!" Clem answered. Flem sniffed in amazement as he watched the battle from behind an escargot. Great Oogley Moogley! That was a four exclamation point scream! Flem thought. *NO DIP. I LIKED THE EFFECT.* Huh? *YEAH, IT'S ME, THE AUTHOR TYPE PERSON.* Why are you talking to me? I'm not gonna argue with you, because I can't think of anything to say. Flem thought. *I HAVE NO ONE ELSE TO TALK TO. I'M BORED AND SUFFERING FROM WRITER'S BLOCK.* Umm...Why don't you write me a weapon that will get rid of the escargot? Flem asked the author. *NAH. I'M GETTING TIRED OF THE FRIED SNAIL THING. MAYBE THIS WILL BE BETTER...* * * * * Flem found himself sitting behind a desk. He looked around in confusion, which steadily grew to horror, when he looked at the name card on the desk. "The Sniff Brothers Law Firm". "Oh no...I've become a lawyer, one of the roots of all evil, second only to algebra and Spam, the true root of all evil," Flem groaned with a sniff. "It's all over. I can't go on knowing I will be the cause of most of the misery in the world." *NEVER MIND. IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE MISERABLE, I'LL PUT YOU BACK. * * * * Flem found himself sitting behind a fallen escargot that dripped lemon garlic sauce. A bucket of water fell on his head. Hey! he thought angrily. *SORRY. THE GARLIC WAS BOTHERING MY SINUSES* Flem shrugged and crept over to where Clem and Salty had been tied while Flem was a lawyer. "Flem. Those Ultimate Escargot are immune to lemon-garlic sauce. What're we gonna do?" whispered Clem when he saw Flem. "I'm going to free you while Slippy isn't looking. I went to school longer than you did. I think we can defeat Slippy with-" he paused. For emphasis? *YUP.* "Algebra!" he finished with a sniff. Clem and Salty gasped at the evil word as Flem cut them free. "Hey! What are you guys doing out! Guards!" shouted Slippy when he saw them. "Not this time, Scippi!" cried two girls as they chased a jar of peanut butter through town. There was an awkward silence as everyone watched them run across the town square. "Not this time, Slippy!" our heroes cried. "We have a proposition for you, Slippy. You solve this problem and we'll leave you alone. You get it wrong, you leave the Southeast and go back to France," Flem said. "Done!" shouted Slippy, just wanting to be rid of the annoying bounty hunters. This problem was more than simple arithmetic, it was algebra. 5n+67b[(-34+2d)-32acd+v] 2 X 34 X 7
Slippy was very smart (for a snail). But even a Rogue Escargot like Slippy must bow down in the face of algebra, the root of all evil. "I can't do it! It's melting my brain! NOO OOOOOOOOooooooo...splat". Slippy turned into a puddle of goo, the only thing remaining was his eye patch, his mustache, and the dead trout. The Rogue Escargot looked at their fallen leader and fled the Southeast, going back to France where they belonged."So his mustache was fake after all!" said Clem as the people of Winterville ran out of their houses and cheered. "Three cheers for the brothers Flem and Clem! They saved the Southeast again! Hooray!" the shouted. "I helped too!" Salty said petulantly. Petulantly? What's that? he thought. *SHUT UP!! DON'T ASK! IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU PEOPLE CAN'T SPEAK! I AM THE ALL-POWERFUL AU-* "Can it author type person. The story is officially over and you can't legally bother us anymore," Clem said. He proceeded to give the author a lecture on manners. She put up with it for about five seconds. *I DON'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS! I AM THE AUTHOR! * THE END! "Ouch! You didn't have to drop it on my head!" *SHUT UP! I SAID- THE END!
|