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The Case of the Three-Eyed Dog....Thing.

Short story By: Waylon Moosberger
Science fiction

This is the Fiction 2 project I had to write for my class. Apparently, my teacher didn't like it. You know how I know that? A pink slip and now I have to re-write it again.... Fuck. I based this a lot like another story here on Booksie, Worm Poop. For those who know what I'm talking about, virtual high five. I know I'm being kind of unoriginal here,but it's really hard to come up with a fresh idea in just one night. (To be totally honest, my teacher gave us a week, but you know, procrastination) I'll be occasionally writing short stories on here while I still write my novel to appease you guys. In the meantime though, live, eat, pray, and spread the poop...

Submitted:Nov 22, 2012    Reads: 13    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   

The Case of the Three-eyed Dog
My name is Jason Kale, and I'm an expert at doing nothing. About a week ago before my dark clone nearly took over the world, I was just sitting in my apartment, which also doubled as a living room/kitchen/bedroom/bathoom. I know, pretty disgusting, but what can you do with just one room? And then I heard that fateful knock at the door. Sighing like someone had just interrupted something very important, I wasted some of my strength to get up and look through the peephole. What I saw shocked me.No, thesed weren't your average weirdos at my little grafitti-filled city. There were two weird guys, looking like they came out of a hippie's portal from the early sixties. Although one had a very green Mohawk and the other seemed to be wearing some kind of fancy women's blush and makeup on, with a leather purse made out of God-knows-what. - But that didn't shock me.What did shock me was that they were both holding this cute little chiahuhau dog in their arms. With three eyes, who seemed to be trying to lick the Mohawk guy, and had bared,sharp,teeth. Both men stared forward, their faces solemn.
And to this day, I still wonder why I let those two weirdos in. But whatever what kind of thoyughts were going through my mind at that time, I opened the door. The two men - Should I even call them that - were staring straight ahead, not even noticing when a butterfly landed on the Mohawk guy's nose.
But that seemed to do it. "ACHOO!" Mohawk guy sneezed, and Makeup guy snapped out of his trance. There was a moment's pause.
"Hey!" Makeup guy accused me. "Why weren't you talking to me? I know you have social anxiety, but jeez, show some respect!"
Now I was more that 100 percent sure that these guys were probably on some highly experimental drug - from a lab somewhere. How they knew my personality disorder though, I'll never know. Actually, that sounded way more likely that the story I was about to hear.
The Mohawk guy started talking the Makeup guy. "Dude, chillax. Don't you get it? He didn't communicate with us because he can't. At least, he can't right now," he said, swaying a swift glance over to me.
Makeup guy now seemed to understand "Oh, Jhessi, you're right, now I see." He laughed, but it was more like a forced one. "When do you ever see a mere Earthling who posesses the brain power to even understand telepathy?"
Mohawk guy laughed again, but this time it was a real one. "Earthling? Earthling? You actually called him Earthling? You can be so offensive sometimes.." His voice trailed off.
For most of the time there, I was just standing there, wordless. But then it dawned on me that these guys are probably joking.
"Look!" I blurted, starting to get annoyed. "Whatever part you're playing in a movie, I reccommend you for the part. Alright? Now get out of my face!" I tried to slam the door, but it wouldn't budge. It wasn't stuck, it just didn't want to move. Then I heard a voice inside my head. No, I corrected myself. Voices.
You know you're not supposed to use your Psionic powers in public like this, Jhessi.
But it's fun! Look at that Jason guy squirm. After all we've been through, don't we derserve humor once in a while?
That's when the voices inside my head stopped, and the door slammed, hard. I was stunned. First they knew my about my social anxiety, and now my name? How?
I was freed from my thoughts, because once again, the doorbell rang. Almost comically.
The two grim-faced men were now smiling and happy as if nothing had ever happened. Jhessi, the Mohawk guy, spoke first.
"Hi!" he said, a little too loudly. "I'm Jhessi, and that's Melinda! Would you care to adopt this" - Jhessi coughed. "Adorable, lovely pet?" The chuhahu hadn't done much during the whole scene, and now this - this thing - was dripping all over Jhessi's shoe, but every time the slobber hit his shoe, it evaporated into gas.
I tried for the nice approach. "Um, no thank you. Shouldn't you try getting that thing to the vet? I mean, it has three eyes."
Melinda looked offended. "Would you like to take yourself over to the vet and probably get thousands of chemicals and shots that would ultimately kill you? Yeah, I didn't think so." -
Yep, I knew it. Insanity. "I wouldn't know how that would feel, I'm not a dog."
Then Jhessi took the dog from Melinda. "Not yet, mate! Jason Kale, meet your future reincarnation!"
And then they both explained it to me. Apparently, this dog is my future reincarantion billions of years in the future, and Earth in 974572 is being tyranted by a futuristic computer virus, and somehow sending my future reincarnation to live with myself would open a huge doorway to killing the virus, and I was the only incarantion fit to take care of the thing.
As our conversation came to a close, I asked, "Wait! What do I feed me?"
Jhessi whipped his hair back. "Oh no, don't worry. You don't have to feed it." Then I blinked and he was gone.
Somewhere a voice-clearing startled me. And it was a real voice, outside my head. I looked around and it was the dog, standing up on two legs. He cleared his throat again, and asked a question.
"So, do you like chocolate with or without nuts?" He said, in the bestest imitation with me I have ever heard.
And that was when I fainted.
(I know, it's short for even a short story. But remember, this is SCHOOL work, not freetime work, alright?!)


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