TurtleGate

LOBO -Predator Press

"Moriarty didn't commit suicide, you moron" Rachel explains.  "Morry is a tortoise.  Tortises live on land."

"Well you're certainly not making me feel any better about this whole fiasco," I says, pushing on Morry's chest rhythmically.  "This is a consequence of God's spurious equivocation when it comes to Creation."

"You're blaming God for drowning Morry?"

"I mean it's not like we see fish walking around downtown," I says, slamming my fist into the inverted carapace.  "I figured this would be a major upgrade for him."

Morry suddenly hacks, and ... starts breathing.

"Whew," I exclaim, wiping my forehead.  "We were really close to you giving him mouth-to-mouth."

"What's with the sunken hamster wheel?"

"It's called a spa, Rachel.  Jesus Christ.  Maybe you should think before you open your mouth sometimes."

"And the underwater radio?"

"Who doesn't like music?"

"And the mozzarella sticks?"

"Stop making me repeat myself.  Can't you see I'm under a lot of stress right now?"

Rachel stares into my eyes.  "Why are your pupils so dilated?  Did you eat those McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwiches that sat out unrefrigerated on the counter all night?"

"Maybe," I reply evasively.  "Or maybe Morry was committing suicide.  How else do you explain this suicide note?"

"That's the gas bill," she says.

Suddenly I'm stricken with paranoia.  "Well, we have to clean all this up before the cops get here.  They're going to have a lot of questions."

"How about you just lie down for a bit?"

"I still have half a sandwich left," I explain.  "Do we have any gasoline?"

A Short Visit

LOBO -Predator Press

Holding the doorknob, I glance at Gina.

"It's a spider," I says.

"What?" asks Gina.

Cracking the door, I wince in the sunlight. Down on the welcome mat, there's a lizard.

"I'm in disguise as a lizard," it explains.

I stare.

"We've met before," it continues. "I'm the ghost of an armadillo you ran over in 2002."

I keep staring.

"But I was actually a textile worker killed during the Industrial Revolution," it points out. "Reincarnated as an armadillo. Understand?"

"You're the spider ghost of a textile worker reincarnated as an armadillo, and in disguise as a lizard," I repeat.

From behind, Gina sighs. "Does this happen every time you eat a McDonald's Filet-O-Fish?

Confused, my eyebrows furrow as I turn back to her slightly.

"Does what happen?"

How Stella Got His Rug Back Dude

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Dressed in a bathrobe, I’m standing on the coffee table I dragged into the kitchen and furiously fingerpainting what might be The Last Supper on the top of the microwave.

“Honey,” says Terri. “Why are your pupils so dialated?”

“Fum-diggly wango wango wango,” I says matter-of-factly.

Shiftless, our teenage son, replies “He’s been like this for hours.”

"Bjork," I shrug. "Hooblie booblie."

Looking around, Terri spots a crunkled Filet-O-Fish wrapper on the counter.

“Did he eat this?” she asks. “We forgot to put them in the refrigerator last night.”

I point at the toaster oven and scream, “GODZIRRAAAAA!”

Lady McDeath

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Doctor I. M. Nyarlathotep puts down his stethoscope.

“So the patient has no issues with drugs or alcohol?”

“No,” replies Terri.

Nurse Garrison peers over her glasses. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m comin’ Elizabeth!” I call loudly from my hospital bed.

“Who the fuck is ‘Elizabeth’?” Terri growls.

“This could be serious,” says the doctor. “One single not properly refrigerated Filet-O-Fish is the equivalent of-“

“Doc,” says Terri. “He has faked his death on this blog thirty times.”

“Word,” nods Nurse Garrison from behind the clipboard.

“Twenty six!” I correct loudly from my hospital bed.

“-but if you think for one second,” Terri continues, “I’m going to let you jack me up on this hospital bill, I’ll stuff that stethoscope so far up your-“

I suddenly sit bolt upright, clutching my heart. “Cancel … my … subscription … to … Highlights ... Ack!”

... and then collapse.

Nurse Garrison lowers her clipboard. "In medical terminology, them's fightin' words."

"Oh please," says Terri. "He only subscribes so the mailman thinks he's smart."