FanStory.com - Before the Floodby humpwhistle
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An outtake from the familiar story.
Before the Flood by humpwhistle
Story of the Month contest entry
Artwork by seshadri_sreenivasan at FanArtReview.com

"This line hasn't budged in half an hour, Fred.  Can you look ahead, see what the hold-up is?"
 
"Gert, we're spiders, remember?  And those big tookuses in front of us?  They belong to freakin' elephants.  No, I can't see what's ahead."
 
"Well, you don't have to bite my head off.  I wish I knew what was going on up there."
 
"Biting heads off is more your style.  And 'up there' is the least of our worries, Gert.  We are, after all, stuck directly behind these elephants' behinds--you know, right in their Free Falling Feces Zone?  And I have no desire to perish beneath a steaming pile of pachyderm plotz!"
 
"Ugh!  What a disgusting thing to say, Fred.  I hope you'll show better manners when we board the ship."
 
"Speaking of this ship, Gert.  I'm having second thoughts.  Cruise ships are floating Petrie dishes for all kinds of germs and diseases."
 
"Relax.  This is no typical cruise liner, Oytser.  This is an exclusive adventure package--"
 
"Exclusive?  Have you seen how long this line is?"
 
"Absolutely exclusive, Fred!  Limited to just two . . . of every species.  That means of all the spiders in the world, they picked us.  Can we get more exclusive?"
 
"Why us?"
 
"Well, probably because we got here first . . . but that doesn't detract from the exclusivity.  No, sir, not a bit.  Oh, it's going to be so glamorous!"
 
"Great.  Glamorous.  Just what I was hoping for.  You know, Gert, we spiders don't have very good luck when it comes to traveling by water.  Seems we always bite the ferryman, and everyone drowns.  They say it's in our nature.  Who am I to argue?"
 
"Oh, no, Boychik.  You're not going to ruin my good time by biting everyone in sight.  I won't have it, I tell you.  I won't have it."
 
"Okay, okay, I won't bite.  How long are we gonna be cooped up on this floating poop factory, anyway?"
 
"Who cares?  We'll be traveling first-class ark all the way.  I'll bet 'ark' is another name for one of those sleek, sexy yachts.  Probably even better than a yacht.  Can you imagine?  Forty luxurious days, and forty romantic nights.  Just you and me."
 
"Oh, I'm imagining it, all right.  You, me, and a billion other trapped animals.  Where'd you get all that meshugas 'first-class', 'luxurious', 'romantic' crap?  You sound like a brochure."
 
"That's because I'm quoting . . . verbatim.  And everyone knows travel brochures never lie.  And I need a little romance in my life, Fred.  Remember when you used to call me 'Legs?'"
 
"Speaking of legs, you never heard of a razor?"
 
"What was that, Fred?"
 
"Oh, nothing, Hon.  Who's behind this extravagant megillah, anyway?"
 
"Noah."
 
"What's a Noah?  Is that some crazy acronym, you know, like the Neurotic Order of Arachnid Haters?"
 
"Don't be silly, Fred.  Noah is a human."
 
"Gewalt, that's worse.  Humans hate us.  You ever get caught scurrying around in a human's bathtub?  Sheesh, such screaming!"
 
"What were you doing in a human's bathtub?"
 
"Uh, that's not the point.  Tell me more about this Noah nebbish."
 
"Noah is not like other humans.  He's very religious . . . and talks to God."
 
"Oy, a frimmer, talks to God, huh?  I don't think God's too fond of us spiders, either.  I remember the first time I looked in a mirror--sheesh, such screaming."
 
"This is just like you, Fred.  Always raining on my parade."
 
"Raining?  That brings up another minor issue.  We are, after all, in the middle of a desert.  What happens if we all get aboard that farshunken boat, and it doesn't rain?"
 
"It'll rain, Fred."
 
"Oh really?  It hasn't spritzed so much as a dew drop here in twenty years, and we're letting some gonif lure us onto a boat?"
 
"It'll rain, Fred.  Noah says so."
 
"Oh, Noah says so.  That's a relief.  What, he's got Doppler?"
 
"He's got God."
 
"Yeah, well I got doubts.  Where's Noah plan on landing this 'ark' of his, anyhow?"
 
"A place called Ararat."
 
"Air-A-Rat?  Sounds lovely.  What, Smell-A-Pig is all booked up?  Look, Gert, what do you say we hang back a while, see what happens?"
 
"I suppose we could do that.  But what if it starts raining?"
 
"I'll buy you an octet of galoshes."
 
"No, Fred, I mean, what if it really starts to come down, you know, like . . . Biblical proportions?"
 
"What's Biblical proportions?"
 
"I'm not sure.  Just something I read in the brochure, I suppose.  But it sounds bad."
 
"I'll make a deal with you.  At the first sign of a puddle in the desert, we'll stow away on Noah's ark."
 
"You think we'll be able to?"
 
"Hey, we're spiders, no?  We're stowaways by nature."
 
"I guess.  But we won't have our own stateroom, or mini-bar."
 
"Mini-bar, schmini-bar.  So, we'll commandeer a human's bathtub . . . or bedroom slipper.  Can you imagine?  Sheesh, such screaming!"    
  
 

 

Recognized

Author Notes
I decided to make the spiders Yiddish. Why not? Makes the dialogue more colorful
Some words you may not know:

tookus--buttocks
meshugas--crazy
megillah--big production
nebbish--one to be pitied
oytser--sweetheart
boychik--male sweetheart
farshunken--stinking
frimmer--overly religious
gonif--thief, lowlife
gewalt--good grief


Thanks for the image, Seshadri.

     

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