The Slitheree Dee Ain't Got Shit on Me

The sun slowly drowned in the bloody red sky...

Kelcey O'Reilly and Pete Wilshire were sitting in a motor boat. It moved swiftly on the water. Kelcey was smoking a Pall Mall. Pete had curly orange hair.

"We've been circling this lake for hours," Pete yelled over the engine, "We can barely see anything now. Do you really think you're gonna find anything."

Kelcey heard him. But didn't respond. He was the captain of his motor boat. The captain of the SS Baha. And he would not take shit from anyone.

"I say we call it a night and take the boat back to shore," Pete said with his hand on Kelcey's shoulder. "We can come out first thing in the morning."

"Fuck, Pete. You know that the only people who decide when this boat goes to shore are the O'Reilly men." Kelcey inhaled Pall Mall smoke, "And now, I'm the sole O'Reilly man. So sit the hell down."

Pete sat down.

The boat skimmed the water for five minutes.

Waves began to rock the SS Baha.

Pete quickly stood up and pointed, "Kelcey... look..."

"I know."

The creature was 200 meters away from the motor boat. Bobbing up and down in the water. Waves ensued.

"Pete, hand me the seal bombs."

"What seal bombs."

Kelcey turned around. Looked at Pete, "Did you bring the seal bombs."

Pete looked around the 4 meter long motor boat, "Ummm... actually... no."

The SS Baha turned around and returned to shore. The creature returned to the dreary depths from which it emerged.

... The sun was slowly swallowed by Lake Loch Ness. It wasn't powerful enough to prevent it's fate, and the world at once became dark.

Thursdays

Thursdays always seemed to be especially hot. The lifeguard at the corner of the deep end sat in her white chair and seemed to be watching the little children play in the water. She picked at the stubble growing on her legs and wondered if any one else could see. She was self conscious on Thursdays. That's when Shane and her shifts over lapped. She had Monday to Thursday and he had Thursday to Sunday. She always hoped that when Monday morning came around she might find something he left behind and return it to him that Thursday, but that day never came and Thursdays always started with the all too familiar colleague salute. Something that at times left her feeling emptier than if they just didn't acknowledge each other at all.
She felt guilty for not doing her job, but accidents at the pool hardly ever occurred. Instead she spent most of the day watching Shane. With dark sunglasses it was an easy thing to do. She would turn her face to the pool, scan around occasionally, but always keep her eyes trained on him. She enjoyed watching his every move and made a sort of game out of it. How often he would shift in his chair, why he scratched his arm, when he would wet his lips and where he was looking, but never thinking that he was doing the same.

Going Down to Liverpool

Andre sat on his back on the beach. He was looking at a female. She was attractive. Valentino sat on his stomach on the beach. He was looking at a notebook. He had written some words on it.

"Hey Andre," Valentino said without looking up, "I think I've got the perfect name for our band."

"Go for it," Andre said without looking away from the female.

"Neon Rendezvous."

Andre shook his head, "Nah, too pompous."

Valentino crossed out the words Neon and Rendezvous on his notepad. "How about The Flux Capacitors?"

"No, not subtle enough."

"Um," Some more words were crossed out, "The Positron Colliders.?"

"Too subtle."

Cross, "Monsters in Your Closet?"

"Too Silly."

"Rockasaurus Rex?"

"Too obvious."

"Death by Stereo?"

"Already taken."

"She's Lost Control?"

"Too 80's"

"How about Bebop and Rocksteady? Or Sirhan Sirhan? Or The Titanic Survivors? Or The Rainy Day Cigarettes?"

Andre slipped the brim of his hat over his eyes, "Those are all shitty names."

Valentino tore the page out of his notebook. "No problem. I'll just keep at it."

Andre stared at a female. She was attractive. "Whatever."

Oscar the Decorator

Oscar loved the Monterey Bay Aquarium. His cousin Omar took him there every Sunday afternoon. They would use their grandparent's yearly pass. The cashier never cared to ask why they looked so young and just appreciated that their happy faces added a little more color to the crowd. Oscar's favorite exhibit was the petting zoo where you were aloud to actually touch the animals. How clever, he thought they were.
One evening after school Oscar crawled into a garbage bag, poked his head and arms through the sides, attached branches as arms and wore cardboard boxes on his feet. He then scampered around the surrounding trailer park trying to hide from the residents. It wasn't till eight o'clock that night that his mother came home from work and realized what was going on. She scolded him and asked why he did it. He replied that the Decorator Crab or Cyclocoeloma Tuberculata does the same for survival.
There was no aquarium trip with his cousin that weekend. Instead, Oscar stayed home watched 4 cartoons and 64 commercials, then helped his mother in the garden. Oscar thought about his animal friends and if they thought about him. Maybe they missed him, like he did them. He became frustrated with his mom and wanted to cry. That night he designed the first underwater trailer mankind had ever seen and made plans to live under the sea for the rest of his life.