Sailing The World's Oceans

Dream ~ Discover ~ Explore


Contributed by Pepe le Roach

Okay, let me say that cardboard is pretty comfortable—it’s a great place to lay eggs and raise a family. Nothing like the pitter-patter of 2,000 legs scurrying around Christmas morning to warm the antenaw and wings.  And when that same cardboard is holding a case of beer?  Let’s just say I’d died and gone to heaven.

Next thing I know, I’m surrounded by water, and no, I’m not being flushed down a toilet—been there, done that.  We are on a boat!  Listen, I’ve seen Titanic like a hundred times in the old theater concession stand I used to live in—I still cry when Jack dies.  No this boat is named Solstice.  And there’s a giant living onboard—calls himself Captain. Seems like he hasn’t slept in a couple of years-- plus, he’s preoccupied trying to sail the boat (he accidentally jibes quite a bit).  At first, he doesn’t notice us and all I’m thinking is, “finally, my ship has come in--I’m on easy alley, baby”--- tons of free food, lots of dark damp places to relax, a good pubic library….I sort of smell a cat but haven’t seen one. Yes, this is a great place to settle down and raise a gazillion kids.

WTF?!  The guy totally freaked and threw all the fresh produce overboard—what are we supposed to eat?  Those canned goods are loaded with sodium.  Damn, glue traps!  You gotta be kidding me.  Like I’m just gonna waltz right into one like it’s quicksand—whoops—junior just got stuck, nevermind.  The lights even start turning on suddenly in the middle of the night for some kind of surprise attack from the giant! The constant cleaning… what’s going on?  Ahhh!—not the fire hose! That spray I’ve seen used for crowd control in species riots—he’s unleashing it on us!  I’m beginning to think we’re not welcome.

Cough, cough—gas warfare!!!  I thought that was outlawed after World War I.  Luckily, we have 2,000 tiny gas masks to weather the storm—for the love of God, what happened to the Geneva Convention?!  Is nothing sacred!  Again, an atomic attack as only the French nuclear industry can unleash—gas bombs from the Moruroa atoll!  And everything sealed tight as a drum on the boat, cough, no more gas masks, no food, but, cough, we will make a stand!  I shake my six fists and flip six middle fingers at the giant!

Cough! It’s no use, the giant is too powerful.  Clean, spray, wipe, clean, spray, wipe—and the surprise attacks—that bastard is quick—doesn’t look like it, but he is!  I have to look all my eyes in the mirror and realize we are no match for this vengeful giant.  I am certain now-- we are not welcome!  And yes, we will find another home.  As other unwanted tribes in the past, the seas will part and we will be led to the promised land… wait a second, they’re not parting!  And here comes the giant!  Spray! Everyone overboard!  Splash! Splash! Splash!

All I can say is we will be around a lot longer than you, giant, and your species. We will inherit the earth! We will have the last laugh!  The last drink! The last… well, it just won’t be on Solstice.


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