Saturday, May 30, 2015

Mixed Nuts.

There they sat -- motionless, without a care in the world. Their impenetrable shells turned every which way, jutting in all directions. Encapsulated in a clear, formless container, there was little that could prevent their escape.

An entire, unopened bag of mixed nuts... just sitting there.

Calvin Dekalb arrived home early from work that day. As he crossed the threshold of his overpriced, under-furnished apartment, that bag of nuts stared at him without pity. He dropped his work belt next to the door, removed his trousers and made for the toilet.

What a bastard, forcing his bag of mixed nuts to watch such filth.

After taking care of business, Calvin plopped before his television, belched like a yawning mule and realized he forgot his crappy beer in the fridge. Rising forth like the champion he thought he was, Calvin grabbed a few bottles of carbonated mediocrity and marched towards his throne.

But not before he grabbed his bag of mixed nuts.

Flipping through over four hundred channels of nothing can be hard work. Yet, our man Calvin had everything under control -- one hand on the remote, one hand tucked down his boxer shorts. Al Bundy would have been proud.




Calvin was the pinnacle of modern manhood; that much he clearly had going for him. Those mixed nuts would disagree, however.

Finally settling on a titillating presentation of women's beach volleyball, Calvin popped his first brew. Slamming the cap against the side of his end table, it flew gently through the air like a diving Olympian, ever so gracefully and elegant. The same couldn't be said for the river of beer trailing down his chin and into his belly button. That swirling yellow pit of bubbles brimmed with a fury of two, maybe even three sloths.

Oh no, Calvin reached for his bag of mixed nuts! The end was nigh!

But they were gone... where did Calvin's bag of mixed nuts run off to?

What lowly plumber Calvin Dekalb failed to realize was that his world was about to change forever... and he was grossly under-prepared.

Calvin popped up from his battered recliner and looked underneath. Only an empty bag could be seen. The mixed nuts were nowhere in sight. As the crack of his rump peeked over his boxer shorts, his television cast a mysterious glow over it. Like two hillsides nestled together under the light of a full moon, they wobbled back and forth. Lurching back into his chair, Calvin was too lazy to actually continue with his search. Better luck next time, right?


At first. the mixed nuts wiggled like drunken golf balls. They clanked together occasionally at first, then more often as the vibrating grew stronger. As the slamming rose in intensity, edges of the mixed nuts began to chip away.

Underneath their hard brown shells, no nuts were to be found.

Suddenly, the mixed nuts stopped moving. Calvin ripped a massive fart that would have stirred the corpse of Helen Keller. The eruption from below was loud enough to drown out the grunts of the girls playing volleyball. It also muffled the sound of the nut shells cracking wide open. Reaching for his second beer, Calvin was startled to see a crab-like critter perched upon his armrest. It was a bold blue in color, with four tiny pincher claws and a series of bristles ruffled down the backside. A cluster of knobby eyes bounced up and down, as if it was sizing up the boorish Calvin Dekalb.

It was.

Two more of the curious beings crawled up the chair, then two more. Eventually, Calvin was sitting face to face with a couple dozen of the miniature beings. Like any oaf would, he reached his hand out to slap them. Cursing their existence and swatting at them like mosquitoes, Calvin became frantic. Had he of been more civil, perhaps he'd have lived to see set point. Meh, his loss.

In unison, the tiny fiends engulfed Calvin's swatting arm. They surgically removed every ounce of flesh from his elbow to his fingertips, leaving nothing but his spotless, exposed skeleton. Calvin shrieked in terror at the vision of his unsightly bones. Unfortunately for Calvin, his screaming gave the blue beasts a direct entryway into his gullet. They launched at his throat like crickets in a bucket, leaving nothing in their wake.

Ten minutes later, Calvin Dekalb was nothing more than a hollowed out cadaver that didn't get to enjoy his last beer. Most of the tiny invaders finished their meal and split. They crawled back into their shells, engaged the automorphic reconstruction sequence, and warped back to their various cluster hubs floating somewhere above the frozen seas of Europa.

As two of the perplexing azure body-squatters sat nestled in Calvin's rib cage, they consumed the last morsels of meat on his sternum. One of the googly-eyed stragglers smacked his mandibles and nudged the other.

"Hey Morxplxya, good game. These ladies can H-O-P!"


Wiping the last remnants of man-meat from his face, the other claw beast winked and giggled.

"Ghahahahar! Hey Vllllarsik, this schmuck missed out. We'd probably have let him finish watching the game if he wasn't such an ass."

And there they sat... a couple of mixed nuts.

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