Scary Creature

Scary Creature

By Frederick J. Blahnik

 

Scared???

OF COURSE I WAS SCARED!!!!!

I tell ya, I was scared shitless!  I was so scared I couldn’t see straight!!  I was so scared I made “bone-spurred” draft dodger Donny Trump look like a Congressional Medal of Honor winner!!!

But what good did that do me???

Really…..what good did that do me?!?!

I had to act—Do something…..ANYTHING!!!—and not just stand there shitting my pants, looking dumber than hell, with my heart racing along at one hundred and fifty beats per minute and my blood pressure spiraling straight through the ceiling.

But my feet were frozen to the floor in terror.  Like I had inadvertently stepped into a gargantuan version of one of those sticky traps ordinarily reserved for pestilent rats and mice.  Like my Size 12s had been immersed in a thick slab of freshly poured cement.  I couldn’t have run away even if someone had stuck a twelve-volt cattle prod six inches up my ass and punched the “Activate” button.

 

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out….

No, no, not by a long shot!

When she first explained it to me—first laid out the general details of our joint excursion—she never mentioned the possibility of this happening.  All she said was that it should be fun and we might get back late.  Nothing about any imminent danger.  Nothing about otherworldly surprises.  Nothing about coming face-to-face with an entity scarier and more bone-chilling than anything I could ever begin to imagine.  Something so utterly dastardly and vile and revolting my pulse still hasn’t settled back to normal and those highly sensitive hairs on the back of my neck have yet to lie down flat.

But she lied to me.

Oh, damned right she lied to me!  Lied through her fuckin’ pristine set of teeth!!  Lied like an uber-expensive Persian rug!!!  Lied to the extent she put my very life in grave peril!!!!

 

I’m sure you’re probably asking yourself right now exactly what I encountered the other evening that has me so fuckin’ worked up and in a tizzy.  I’m sure you doubtless think that I’m being melodramatic and carrying hyperbole to heretofore invious heights.  I’m sure you undoubtedly think I’m a bullshitting blowhard who never passes on an opportunity to exaggerate any and every situation to the max at the proverbial drop of a hat.

But I’m none of those things…..

No, I swear to God, Reader—I…am…none…of…those…things!!!

So…..exactly what den of lions did my devious girlfriend lead me into that has me so unhinged and yammering on now like a drunken teenager?

Betcha can’t guess, can you?!

Not in a million years!

Or even a billion probably!!

Enough with the overdone suspense, though; I’ll tell you now what that horrible place was, and you won’t believe this bit of news either and in all likelihood completely sympathize with my plight and instantly understand why I’m ranting on so uncontrollably.

My girlfriend—yes, my beatific girlfriend, the same person I must confess to having taken an unhealthy shine to over the past six months after first meeting her last spring—had the audacity and unmitigated gall to take me on a surprise visit to her parents’ house for dinner.

Where—and you no doubt have already guessed this by now—I was forced to meet face-to-face and nervously break bread with her gruff, unsmiling father!