Thursday, February 21, 2013

"Look. I know you know where the boar is now. But I have to do this. This is what I've been doing for three years. I can't not do this now. I'm just --two weeks, okay? Then we will --Fine! Sorry! Too long. Three days. Three days and we'll find the boar and you can do whatever you're going to do to it, okay? Thank-you."

The Octopus looked somewhat deflated as it moved toward the bathroom.

"Nap." it signed, behind itself.


"Not car."

The writer haha'd at The Octopus, who quietly closed the door behind it.

"Come on," The writer said to the door. "Don't be like that! We almost got it last time!"

And indeed they had. IT had been close, the boar. IT was eating in a dumpster. The writer had been driving to the Boutique Condiment store for more Himalayan Table Salt. The Octopus had grabbed the wheel a turned them through three lanes and into the parking lot of a burger chain.

"Back! Trash!" Frantically and over and over and Tom obeyed, choosing very consciously and conveniently to ignore his pounding heart.

The Octopus was out of the car and flinging itself madly at the dumpster, scrambling up the side before the car fully stopped and just as Tom stood up, keys still in hand like a flatulent bottle rocket the boar shot out the top of the dumpster, toilet paper streamers whipping, tusks looking moldered with mustard and pickles. The leap was impressive.

The Octopus's arms caught the boar's hind legs and yanked it back toward the dumpster; the boar tried to tuck and roll, misjudged the jerk, smashed its snout into the rim --shattered a tusk and some teeth.

The boar roared in pain, began stomping furiously at the mounds of trash, hopping like a mosher or a jack hammer.

"Holy heavens! What?!" Tom exclaimed, uselessly, as the Octopus slither suckered its way up and started snaking suckers around the boar's throat, covering its eyes.

The boar slammed itself, back first onto the dumpster wall; slippery in the detritus, the boar seemed supernaturally strong, regardless and the Octopus lost its breath, loosened its grip and with another roar (that shattered the windows of the burger joint and Tom's car and set off car alarms) the Boar burst from the dumpster, buckled the roof of Tom's car and was gone.