Shrunken head like to watch Drew Carey. He like The Price Is Right, 'cause he got lot in common wiff a plinko chip. Old Woman set him up on the sofa. She prop him up wit' a lot a throw pillows. Don't know how he see wit' his eyes all sewed shut, but he do. Old Woman feel bad 'cause sometime he cry cause he ain't got no belly. Head feels hungry but can't eat. Ain't got no head bone... no skull. Them what shrunk him took it out. Dat means the teef gone too. And his lips is all pursed up like an old school marm passing judgement. He says things and she (the Old Woman) hears it.
Says they got people like to play around with us. And I don't know if 'people' is the right word. Maybe they once was people, or neighborly praying mantises, or friendly octopuses, or intelligent dogs what don't pee on no rug... But now they something else. And we just their 'Leggos.' Got ways to snap us together regardless of DNA and who got 'claspers,' and who got a 'cloaca' and who got a hot-cha-cha worthy of a wax museum.
That's how they make them LYCANTHRO-SHARKS. Juveniles did it..... indulged, little snot-noses from other worlds......(wait a minute... I gotta go eat somethin'....... /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/<~~~~~ (me eating.... I'm having copious amounts of cream cheese with savory, rich, salty bits of smoked salmon, spread on two WASSA crisp breads) OK, I'm done. Still want more, but, no.....
Shrunken Head says sasquatch is people mixed with chimps and gorillas. Aliens and Joseph Stalin did it. But it was not a collaboration. They played around separately. Genetic digression not so great, but still...... Come on, you wanna have kids with thumbs on their feet? Giraffe-people didn't work, 'cause they were picked up by the cops for rubber-neckin..... folks' second floor windahs. And them what became camel-people mostly resented being made hunchbacks and havin' real life camel toes and all. Humans is fussy. Look, you think a wolf wanna be a chihuahua? But aliens don't care, 'cause you just sea monkeys. Shrunken head says he half a alien, or was til they cut most all the fancy parts off. Now he jus' a head and a dead, dried up head too. But he one a the only friends the Old Woman got.
Shhh, now we gotta be quiet, 'cause Price is Right gonna SPIN THE WHEEL. Head like that. And we don't wanna make him antsy. Last time he bounce off a sofa and get wedge behind big wooden thing.
What you think the aliens do to you?... And if they ain't done nuttin'... you one a the rejects...
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Old woman got a friend. It not actually no live human. It a dead human and most a the parts is missin'. It a shrunken head. Old Mistah, brung it to her from New Guinea. He not like a tourist. They made him go there during THE WAR. Not like he could leave if he want to, or say - No thanks. I do not think I really want to get ripped in half by no Japanese machine gun, if you know what I mean...... Not like he could say - Gimme my stuff. I am gone home....Them what did that got they neck cracked at the end of a long rope. And them what did it told their grieving' mamas they was no good and deserved it.
Old Mistah not want a get his neck cracked. He stay and do like they make him. When he get all his legs blowed off they send him home. Tell his mama how brave he be. That what they say to the mamas what get sent back dead kids, or smashed up ones.... 'cause, like what else they gonna do?
He get work at a 'musement park. Dress him up like Humpty Dumpty wit' floppy, doll legs and a big red smile. Think it come from Tropical Red, Number 5 lipstick. It the nineteen forties and they do shit like that. Old Woman not so old then. She a hootchie cootchie Moon Girl. Sell tickets on a Rocket Ship ride. Got like a sequinned two piece bathing suit with a witch collar and a old, leather, silver painted football helmet on top a her head. Got bug feelers too, but they just real long pipe cleaners.
Humpty Dumpty and Moon Girl fall in love. Captain of the big, ole shootie-chutes (old time term for roller coaster) marry them. He can do that 'cause he a captain and all. Got like a hat and everything. Moon Girl (the Old Woman when she not so old) say they gotta check. Make 'em call the mayor. He say it OK, long as somebody give him one dollah and seventy five cent. Back then they let you do mos' anythin', for one dollah and seventy five cent. That part a 'the old days' was real good.
After they married he give her the shrunken head. She keep it and love it always. When Old Mistah finally shove off (die), it start talkin' to her, which is actually very miraculous, considerin' it got its eyes, ears, malf and nose stitched shut. But real shrunken head got powers. Some make you pregnant. Head don't do nothin'. It just let you get that way. This head don't do that... but it know things and it tell things. She keep it in a bag under the bed. Ev'ry time it wanna tell somethin' it go - psst!...psst!...psst!... hey, lady!... hey, lady!.......... Which is also mostly amazin' considerin' when it alive it only know New Guinea Talk.
That night, after she almost have a heart attack from the noise the ice maker make, she jump in a bed and cover herself up real good... That when it start talkin'..... Tell her 'bout the bayou... them werewold-sharks ... 'Monkey Legs' and a whole lot a shit.
Sometime I think that head wern't really human..... If you livin' tomorrow and 'sides a come back here, I tell you more.....
Y'all ever hear sound in the night?... What you got under your bed???
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At first they looked like puppets, tattered marionettes, all tangled up and forgotten. Birds ripped out the juicy parts and ants marched up the trunk to take the rest. Some wore clothes... a shirt... shoes and socks... half a brassiere... a 'face mask' jock strap. But most were naked. Hell, some barely even had any flesh.
You see strange things in the bayou.... two headed hag fish.... raccoon with human breasts... a crazy eyed little white girl with hairy legs... real hairy legs. 'Monkey Legs,' they call her. But I'm not talkin' 'bout her. This about a big, old mangrove tree all done up like Christmas Morning. Got dead folks dancin' in the branches and greasy small intestines where tinsel should be.
The woman beached her boat right under it. She came in here a lot to find plants and all.... medicinal plants. An herbalist she was. Some folk call her a 'witchy woman,' but she not that, 'cause she got a Bible and she read it every night. Know all them 'What thou shalt do...' and 'What thou shalt not do.' Once saw God settin' in her kitchen. But since He was eatin' a banana, her sister say it must a been like a genii, or an angel, or somethin'.
Cause she don't think God would like no banana... Grapes, maybe... an apple for sure.... Maybe like a popsicle, if he was hot or somethin'.
Woman get out her phone and start takin' pictures. She got a little flip phone from the Walmart, don't need no contract, or nothin.' Gets right up under real drippy part. Dead lady got half an ass bit off. Stomach ripped open too. Got like a Pepsi cola bottle stickin' out a her belly. But I don't think she swallowed it. Somebody must a left it there. You know how careless people can be.
Then she see somethin'. Look like guitar picks.... like chalky, white, rough edge guitar picks. She reach up to touch one. Take a drink first from a little flask. Got Jack Daniel's in it. Just 'cause she an old, leathery thing, don't mean some shit still make her sick. 'Sides, Jack taste good.
Got pretty strong finger nails. Thick ones. You know how old folks do? Start diggin' at the funny, white thing. She go tap, tap, tap. It like a loose tooth, so she start a wiggle it. Take maybe thirteen wiggles, then it come out. But so do a lot a blood. Not hot blood.... cold, clammy blood. 'Cause lady what ain't got most a her ass been dead a long time. Old woman can see the face too, 'cause neck twisted all 'round. It got eyes, but they all dull and cloudy... like two, little, cheap, crumby lava-lamps what ain't got no color. And a fat centipede all shacked up in the nose. It come out to see what gone on. But the other one jus' stick its head out. That how she know they shacked up.
Some blood do get on her face. The old woman, I mean. Little bit might run in her mouth, but she don't think 'bout it and make like it not there. Clam juice it taste like. Guess that why they call it 'clammy.' But I don't think you wanna cook wit' it.
White thing look like a toof... like a big toof... Like what some dinosaur 'sposed a have. Not a big dinosaur, but the littler 'runnin' dinosaurs. Kind what rips you open wit' it's feet. She knowed, 'cause she seen Jurassic Park. She an educated woman. So she wrap it up in a half used napkin from Popeye's and go back. Gets in her boat and shove off. Don't make no noise, 'cause she do be a little scared.
Somethin' break the water, but she don't look back. Somethin' else go 'plop' and fall in. Maybe she loosen up a dead folk when she poke 'round an' all? Or maybe what broke the water jus' grab it?
Old woman make it back to town... run in her place an' lock the door. But when the ice machine in her 'frigerator start shakin' 'round she almost have a heart attack.
Monkey-Leg girl seen it all from the trees. an' she laugh and laugh and laugh...
(more next time)
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Sometimes I forget that I can still think verbally. Oh, my mouth cannot articulate true speech, or any other kind for that matter. It can open. It can close. It can chomp things off.... a shark's mouth. But part of me is still human. It thinks. It feels. It knows. And you want to know something?... The lupine part does too.
I sit in the branches waiting for prey. It's quiet. A pirogue glides by, silent in the night . But I can see the light. I see the lantern held by an old man. He whispers something in Creole French. Perhaps I was once a kinsman, for I seem to know the words. A young one, his son, or maybe a nephew, looks about. There be gators here. Big ones. Fat ones. They say a certain, coarse hided veteran bears buck shot from The War of 1812. And they say right. He calls to me. He talks to me. I comprehend him in a visceral, animal way. How is it I know words like 'visceral?' Perhaps my human part was educated. Perhaps I walked the Rues and byways of Le vieux carre? I do like steak tartare, if you know what I mean.
The old one smells good...gamy and appetizing. I climb down from my perch and slide into the oily, black water. Do I have gills? No, that useful bit of fishy equipment was not included. But I can troll along, just below the surface, with naught but my nostrils (and of course my dorsal) visible above the water. The young one sees something. He raises his gun, a decades old rifle ordered from Sears. I sink to the bottom, undulating through absolute blackness with my sleek, strong tail.
The old man chuckles and says - You've lost him.... Then he pees over the side. It's hard to stand and balance in the low-slung water craft, but he does. A swampman through and through, this one. He knows... the salty broth draws creatures.... a big, fat carp-like thing.... some crawfish.... a muskrat... and me. The rich, fleshy scent makes me giddy. The human part of my nature recedes.Thought becomes a frivolous obstacle. But I feel him in my teeth and I want him...
The creature rises toward the stern, reaches out of the water with strong, sinewy, werewolf arms. It grabs hold of the ancient wood and bears down. The tiny boat tips. The old one falls. The young one reaches out to help. But he sees the head. He sees the teeth. He knows the tales and he screams. The old one thrashes about, as the monstrous thing grabs hold of his neck and pulls him down. Four toes go to a snapping turtle. An eye, the right, I believe, gets sucked out by a particularly aggressive, kissy-lipped fish. Two heartbeats later, the creature tucks in, crushing through the clavicle and shoulder, exposing a lung, as it rips off sixteen pounds of meat and bone. But the heart still beats. The brain still lives. And the old one endures, after a fashion, two minutes more... alone in the dark, with the demons.
The young one runs the boat up on the bank, clambers out and races through the dense, boggy, woodlands, frantically waving his arms in an effort to 'see.' Sugar gnats rise up in his wake, stinging his skin and stealing the blood, but he keeps going for maybe twelve heartbeats, til the mate of that first thing springs from the grass, severing most of his groin, a good portion of his bladder, some surrounding lymph nodes and other torn off strips of meat, as he falls whimpering into oblivion.
The two hundred year old gator was safe that night, a beneficiary of LYCANTHRO-SHARK'S cold largesse.
And only the leeches know...
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Life is a puzzle. No, really it is. The reason human beans can't breed with French Poodles has to do with 'innies' and'outies' and how things snap together. And I mean on a microscopic level. Think of DNA as a zipper. Unless all the teeth line up correctly all you gonna get is a really weird experience. 'Almost' doesn't count. This ain't quoits.
They say Stalin tried to mix humans and apes (chimps mostly). Wanted to breed a race of super soldiers possessed of unbelievable endurance, plus the uncanny ability to hurl shit at the enemy with unerring accuracy. But America's development of the atomic bomb put an end to the shit throwing race. That's how it is.
Medieval alchemists surreptitiously attempted the replication of mythological beasts, uniting goats and apprentices in order to bring forth satyrs and fauns. But all they got out of it was syphilis.
Contemporary scientists create exotic combinations via gene therapy, whipping up such delightful hybrids as spider-silk-goats (yeah, they still use goats) who excrete a rarefied 'milk' that condenses into high tensile (and exceedingly strong) spider silk.
And, to revisit the past again, Russia's Catherine the Great almost killed herself trying to bring back the centaur..... But I think we're really lucky she failed. If they HAD centaurs today, how would they use public bathrooms and where would they sit on the bus? Plus we'd have to manufacture special pieces of apparatus enabling them to clean themselves after defecation. That would be a must. And how the hell are they ever gonna be able to pull up their pants with short, little human arms?.... Would they even be legally required to wear pants???
My God, Labra-doodles are bad enough.
But the LYCANTHRO-SHARK is real. We're only compelled to pretend it's fiction for obvious reasons. I wanted to tell you more, but it's three A.M. here and I'm tired. So come back tomorrow night. And join the conversation. Leave a COMMENT. See what all we got by clicking on ~>WOW, LOOK WHAT HE GOT! ... join me on Twitter at ~> @wilkravitz ...
Werewolves, humans and sharks... oh my.
A dense, hot, steamy greenness pervades the molecules of the ether. Insect voices fill the the air with alien blood songs. And even the gators seem drugged as they glide through the thick, cloying morass. August in the Mississippi estuary, where big, ole saw toothed, green-head flies come to dine. Itchy time down South.
In the deepest part of the watery hell something moves. It undulates through the viscous soup like an otter... strong tail.... rather lupine legs... bullet head with sharp, wolfie ears and a big, toothy mouth gash like a shark what howls at the moon.
A mama cougar sneaks home to nurse her babies with a belly full a dead rats, plus a little monkey what some circus forgot. She know the territory, bein' a swamp gal herself. But she can know the Gettysburg Address for all the good it gonna do her.
Snappin' turtles what can chomp off half a human foot sink deep in the mud and gators rumble warnings to their harems and their kin.
What comin' already ate some. Old lady rib cage floatin' upstream. Dat her wig on a rock. Look, where them water bugs is nestin'. Ripped off head like a pineapple under the sea for a bunch a crawfish. Big mama crawfish got a room where a eye used a be. And all them babies love nibblin' on the lips.... old lady lips... Duggs is all gone. Ass mostly shredded. Bones what held 'em wedged in a mangrove root. Got like a family reunion a leeches fightin' for the scraps.
Old man seen it all. He peekin' and screamin' through a little gingham curtain what hang in a trailer window. But he scream too loud and what got her got him for 'extras.'
Wolf-shark be comin'.... a unholy alliance of fish teef and dog breath... A demon born of animal lust in the blackest heart of a bayou night.
Yo, trapper. What dat scratchin' at the shanty door? Get out that big hide ripping knife and slash you throat now...less you doan mind bunch a 'scrutiatin' trouble.
Ewww, how dem mangled leg muskrats you got shoved in a sack gonna laugh when you die. Guts gonna go in 'the soup.' Gonna float down river to the gulf. I 'spect shrimp gonna eat 'em then.
An' old folks get 'em two weeks later, when them shrimp wind up at The Golden Corral.
Get dem toes out a the water, dumb teenage kids on a lark. Tell that girl to get her tittie-cuppers back on. Somethin' lookin' at her... an' it taken inventory...
(more LYCANTHRO-SHARK next time)
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A crazy grandmother was the first one. She roll out of a camper in da middle of the night. Gotta go pee-pee. Got old lady bladder disease. And camper potty no good, 'cause it got da voo doo real bad. Give old huzzband monkey balls and now the dawg scared a go near him.
So she sneak behind a mangrove where them gators can't see her do it. And she pull up her shift and squat down real dainty-like, 'cause her mama got white gloves an' whole drawer full a clean underwear. an' dat make her a lady.
Old man huzzband yell - Where you gun what I got you for Christmas, you old bitch, you?.....She go - Trade it for my teef, you old shit-ass (cause he got like a fartin' hobby and she like a good set a choppers) ..... Old man cackle - Good bye! Good bye! No more that girl! You dead! You dead!.... Then he shut that door real hard an' lock it up tight. But she hear him dancin' 'round inside. Figure she gone let him have his fun, then bus' a window and get back in. Pissin' part a her outing all done. She on to part two now.. You know, one time she put two dead roaches in a biscuit batter and tell him it raisins. He say it good. Guess they mus' a been high quality roaches. I doan know. That how they do to each other.
It dark out there. Big trees. Spiders you could make a mink coat out of... bobcats..... crazy, killer chimp what escape from a zoo.... eight hundred pound gator what got a knock-off Rolex on it's back foot.... Old lady got big bites on her ass. I doan know what bit her, but she doan care. She not fussy that way.
Use a have problem wit werewolves. People gettin' theyselves all killed up all the time. Big turds all over. Deputy doan do nothin'. He say - Go to hell and drop dead.... Then he write out a citation, cause he very proud a his penmanship. But nobody ever pay 'em, 'cause that deputy jus' a big dumb nut.
You see, werewolves do like to move around, run wit' the pack and all that, specially when the pretty people all killed up. But one werewolf woman stay behind. She smoke cigarette. She stink. She wear dirty brassiere . Swim 'round the swamp water all naked and stuff. She like a low-life werewolf woman. Not like the high class ones. No siree. Not like dem at all.
Now bull shark like swamp water too. 'Voo doo shark they call 'em. Chomp on legs... Chomp on part a asses... whatever they like... It jus' what they do. An' them what's the man bull sharks full a pearl jam. Got more pearl jam than human beans. That for sure. That why they call 'em 'bulls.'
Low-life werewolf women and bull shark start mushin' up wit each other. She love him. He love her. They say he a very caring bull shark. But I doan know, 'cause they doan talk or nothin'. Ten week latter she have a baby an' ten week after that she have another baby. Got werewolf arms and werewolf legs... werewolf ears and werewolf eyes. But muzzle and teef is all shark. Tail all shark too. Look like part of a mermaid growin' outta its butt.... Got real short fur... Horse fur, it look like. Gray on back and white on the belly, like what shark do. I know, 'cause I see one once. A little one. A baby one, killin' a duck.
It almost growed now. An' it up a tree.... all still.... all quiet.... jus' watchin'... jus' lookin'... jus' sniffin'.... maybe fifteen feet from the old lady's head.
She doan know, 'cause she squeezin' real hard. Otherwise she be able to smell it. Stink from cigarette too, jus' like its ma..... an' now it creepin.... It creepin' real slow.... Soon the tail gone brush right on top a her head. Bet she go - What dat??...
But then it gone be too late... and she never gonna know...
(more later)
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