Monday, June 20, 2011

Crablantis

Last time on Crablantis!

Signor Crabbsly met his partner in rhyme, Chilleh Puss, the robotic octopus, and together they must stop the evil corporation CLAM. Word on the sand has it that a CLAM informant is staking out the local gentleman’s club, so it’s up to Crabbsly to see what he can find. Will he encounter danger? Will he catch a STI? FIND OUT RIGHT NOW!

Adventures in Crablantis
Part 1, Segment 1.7, Chapter 1
The Coral Queef

Signor Crabbsly had never been a fan of strip joints, despite the fact that he was practically raised in one. The smell of sweat and despair and the taste of salt and smoke in the room did nothing for Crabbsly’s nostalgia; in fact, it just sickened and disgusted him. His father used to tell him that all good crabs are found in strip clubs, but even as a young boy Crabbsly didn’t share that belief. He was sure that good crabs could be found anywhere; that they should be found anywhere else. But his father never understood.

---

“Excuse me, Narrator Lady, you’re doing it again”

Doing what again?

“Going off on tangents that have nothing to do with the actual story,”

Excuse me Mr Crabbsly-knows-everything-allthetime-forever I think I know what I’m doing. That paragraph was nothing but relevant.

“It’s SIGNOR Crabbsly, Miss,”

Now I remember why I left you floating in fictional limbo for so long.

“What?”

Nothing, nothing. ON WITH THE STORY!

---

With a look of apprehension on his face Signor Crabbsly approached the nasty looking bouncer.

“Can I help you, shrimp?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I’m a crab,”

“Does this look like the face of someone who cares, shrimp?”

“Oh um, no. It looks like the face of a catfish, sir,”

---

Oh good job Crabbsly. Piss off the mean looking bouncer.

---

“What do you want, punk shrimp?”

“I told you, I’m not a-“

CRABBSLY. SHUTUP SO THE STORY CAN GO SOMEWHERE

“Did you say something, shrimp? Because you’re starting to waste my time. And I don’t like having my time wasted. In fact, I’d say it’s the thing I like the least in life. That and this raging cold sore I have on my lip. So either start talking sense, or scuttle off elsewhere before I smack you with my fin,”

“I, um, /would like to please gain access to the club, please,”

“Name?”

“Signor Crabbsly”

“Signor? What are you, some type of fancy ass?”

“I am a crab, sir, not a donkey,”

“Ok, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to let you into the club for two reasons. 1) Because your face is starting to annoy me and 2) because it’s a Monday night and all of our good dancers are out anyway. Good luck getting a boner, Crabbassly,”

---

“Well he wasn’t very pleasant, was he?”

I don’t know. I thought Crabassly was pretty funny.

“Perhaps that’s because you wrote his lines?”

I also write yours and I don’t think you’re funny at all.

“I hate you,”

---

Crabbsly entered the strip joint and immediately began to cough up a lung. The air was so thick with smoke and stale with regret it was almost impossible to breathe.

‘How do these women work in a place like this?’ Crabbsly wondered.

Surveying the area with his keen crab eyes, he began the search for the CLAM informant. Through the haze he noticed a group of women dancing on a podium in front of a handful of men that looked half dead. But then again, so did the women. Dark circles had formed under their sad eyes and their skin had sallowed from years of bad diet and steady second hand smoke. Their fingertips were stained with (what he hoped) was Nicotine, and even their outfits, which looked like they had once been bright and colourful, had gained a tired, worn out look about them.

“Hey sugar, can I get you something?”

Crabbsly turned to the voice beside him and was stunned. The woman by his side was beautiful! She looked nothing like the worn out potato sack people on the podium.

“Oh, yes please. I’ll have a glass of water thankyou. And may I add you’re looking especially ravishing this fine evening?”

“Oh you, I bet you say that to all the ladies,” she gushed.

“No... no trust me, I don’t. Especially not to any of the ladies here,

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean to say is, um.... You look quite different from your colleagues. Younger, brighter, happier,”

---

Not nearly as covered in diseases and sperm.

“Shut.up,”

---

“Why thankyou! I’ve only been here a week, I haven’t been given the opportunity to work much. None of the men here take kindly to newcomers. They all have their favourites, you know?”

“I can’t say that I do. I don’t frequent these places much,”

“Oh? Then what are you doing here? Undercover for some secret operation?” the girl giggled.

“I could ask you the very same thing,”

“I’m definitely undercover. I’m actually a mastermind criminal, can’t you tell? All mastermind criminals wear frilly lingerie and tassels,”

“If they did my job would be a whole lot more exciting,”

The woman regarded Crabbsly for a moment and smiled. “I get off work in 20 minutes. Let me buy you a drink when I’m done,”

“A gentleman could never accept a lady’s offer to buy him a drink, I’m sorry Miss,”

“Oh, I understand...” the woman said, sadness seeping into her big green eyes.

“I can, however, buy you a drink,”

“Fantastic! I’ll meet you out the front in about half an hour!” and with that she flounced off towards the bar, the feathers stuck to her butt bouncing all the while.

---

EXCUSE ME CRABBSLY

“Yes?”

You’re putting a total hamper on the story. This isn’t a romance it’s a thrilling James Bond-esque type novella! AND YOU’RE RUINING IT.

“Ruining it, or making it better?”

No, definitely ruining it. Nobody cares about you having a drink with some stripper. They want you to find the informant!

“Actually dog, I wanna see Crabberton get some fishy tail,”

Chilleh? What the hell are you doing here? You’re not even in this segment!

“I know, yo. So I had to be changin’ that. I’m what the readers wanna see, ya dig?”

“Excuse me Mr. Puss, but she writes, she doesn’t dig. And um, my name is Crabbsly,”

“Whatever Crabalambam, just go slam that fishy fishy tail aiight? Chilleh out,”

“He wants me to hit her?!”

No Crabbsly, I think he wants you to... oh look, never mind what HE wants .I’M the narrator and I want you to DO YOUR FREAKING JOB.

“You will not come between me and that beautiful woman, do you hear me? Besides, maybe she’ll know something about the informant. People tend to be a lot more observant in their first few days on the job,”

... um.

“See, Crabbsly knows what he’s doing. Now just leave it to me for once, ok Narrator Lady? You just kick back and watch the magic unfold,”

---

Will Crabbsly get any information out of the stripper, or will it be a giant downfall? Will he buy the lady dinner as well, or is he going to be a cheapskate? Is Chilleh Puss going to interrupt my narrating again? ALL THAT AND MORE, next time on Crablantis!

“What did I say? I told you to take a break, didn’t I? STOP NARRATING!”

But I’m wrapping up the segment!

“Our readers are plainly able to see this is the end, so go on now, scat!”

But-

“I SAID SCAT!”

The End

“OI!!!”

5 comments:

  1. PREDICTION- I see where you're going, and I don't think you'll go there. Good read

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  2. this is hilarius from beginning to end. you should update more often!

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  3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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  4. Hey when are you going to write for PCPP again?

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