Page 12 of Transdolphin


  No one said anything. I think I was the only one with the guts (or ignorance) staring at the boss as he walked around thinking, nodding his head, shaking his head, licking his lips, moving his eyebrows up and down. The secretary's voice shot through a speaker in a black samurai statue's screaming mouth. We all jumped.

  “Boss,” the secretary said, “the Filipino gang is here to see you. Shall I whip them?”

  Boss Moshi walked over to the statue and pressed a button in its mouth.

  “No, that won't be necessary,” he said. “Let them come in pure.”

  There were three of them. They walked in with their heads tucked down. They were covered in bandages and looked like mummies.

  “Boss Moshi,” said the gang leader, “I'm sorry for failing you. Please be gentle with us.”

  The boss ran up and strangled him, yelling, spitting in his face. The young man cried. The boss punched him in the belly and took his hand and paraded him around the place.

  “Look at this poor Filipino man,” the boss said. “This is a fine example of failure!” He vomited. The boss took his face and it looked like he was going to kiss him. “What happened!?”

  The young gangster stuttered, “It...it was a transdolphin.”

  Boss Moshi's eyes got real big.

  “TRANSDOLPHIN!?”

  The boss misplaced his sanity. He went into a shit-rage and ran around the place, shrieking naughty things in a comedic, high voice.

  “Blah, blah, blah!” he more or less was going. “I'll kill her! Blah, blah, blah! I'll kill that bitch!” Just over and over again, repeating it. The drummer girl chased after him and played an exciting tune. Boss Moshi lost his breath and had to sit on the ground, spitting up blood. The drummer girl sat next to him and slowed her song to a more relaxed, almost seductive rhythm. The Filipino gang leader was shaking.

  “It messed us up real good. It was a horror show. There was so much Filipino blood.”

  “Do you have any money or precious jewels to give me? Anything at all?”

  The boys looked at each other. But before they could say the obvious, the boss raised his finger.

  “Guards,” he boss said, “stop scratching your dingdongs and listen up! What I'm about to say is important. Devastate this Filipino gang for not making me happy.”

  And the samurai guards ran to the guys and poked so many holes in them. Their liquids came out as if from sprinklers. Then geisha speed-walked in, cleaned the mess up with mops and sponges and perfume, and took the bodies away. Boss Moshi looked around.

  “Look at the distress painted on my face. I'm in serious trouble, boys and girls. I need money. I'm in debt. I have medical bills, electric bills, water bills, internet bills – Jesus! Time to save. No more cockeyed spending. Listen, I own too many houses and love huts. The very house you're standing in is made of solid gold. I thought it would protect me from my enemies – from assassins! What a waste of money. I'm too paranoid. I have to be smarter with my money.” He ripped his wig off. “I don't need THIS anymore! I have too many things to pay for! I shouldn't have purchased that one whore in Waikiki. I know you've all seen me prancing around town with that slut machine. Ahhhhh, but I was just pretending I didn't see you watching. See? I'm a fine actor.” He punched himself in the face. It was like his hand had a mind of its own. “I'm such a fool! She was a trickster! Always galloping into my bed. Always sauntering into my wet dreams. What was her name again? Bah! No matter. She never really loved me. That's why she's dead and dangling from a tree. You can have her.”

  One of us ran outside.

  The secretary's voice came on again.

  “Boss?”

  He walked over to the statue and pressed the call button.

  “Nani?”

  “Your expensive scientists are here. You want I should whip them?”

  “No, no,” he said. “They're good people. Give them sweets, and then send them in.”

  The boss turned to us. He put his hands on his hips and looked determined.

  “I've had my fill of these transdolphins – these pest – this irritating do-gooders. My expensive scientists have been developing secret weapons – new, fancy, dangerous werewolves. Super gangster werewolves! We shall come out victorious. Everyone clap and cheer!”

  Everyone clapped and cheered and nodded to each other.

  Scientists walked in, rolling in on handcarts what appeared to be two figures under white sheets. Other scientists carried in large computers and other important-looking, metal boxes with blinking lights that went bing and beep.

  Boss Moshi stood in front of the scientists.

  “Friends! What have you got for me today? Better be good. I've invested thirty million American dollars into these second generation werewolves...these children of mine.”

  The master scientist – Jerry – looked so merry he was going to shit.

  “I assure you, Boss Moshi, you will not be disappointed. My fellow Chinese scientists have worked day and night on these first-class monstrosities.” He walked over to the first creation standing hidden under the white sheet. “I present to you...Le Destructo Magnifico!”

  He yanked off the sheet while a scientist played a recording of celebratory Mexican-music.

  What stood was a muscular man with the head of a frowning wolf, and bazookas for arms. He wore shades and came complete with robot legs. Everyone in the place clapped.

  “Impressive!” they cheered. “Believable!”

  Boss Moshi was clapping, too. He wiped a tear from his eye. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Absolutely beautiful. I can already feel my pockets filling with money that doesn't belong to me.”

  Jerry was proud. He stood by his creation – put his hand on its shoulder.

  “Strong as an ox. Part robot. Part werewolf. All powerful.”

  Someone in the crowd said, “Let's see a demonstration!”

  The boss agreed.

  “Mmm. Let's see just how tough your robot is.”

  Jerry shrugged and took out a remote control. He pressed a big red button. The monster's head twitched, and it walked off the handcart, right up to the crowd. Everyone jumped back and gasped. The werewolf robot's bazooka arms made nervous clicking sounds. Boss Moshi looked at us.

  “He with the thickest guts – please step forward.”

  No one responded.

  Boss Moshi walked to us and pulled a poor soul forward.

  “Attack it!” Boss Moshi demanded, stomping.

  Worried, the man looked around. Figuring out there was nowhere to run, he brought his fists up.

  “Whatever, sir!”

  He ran to Le Destructo Magnifico and kicked him in the stomach.

  Nothing happened.

  Boss Moshi frowned.

  “Nothing happened! Jerry, are you ripping me off?”

  The scientist laughed.

  “Hahaha. Oh, you non-scientific commoners. You make me laugh with your pathetic intellect. My robot is not programmed to kill werewolves,” he said. “Watch and learn.” Jerry pressed a few buttons on the robot's arm. A screen on its chest blinked: Kill Transdolphins.

  Jerry gave the gangster a dolphin mask. “Here, gangster. Wear this.”

  The gangster put it on with trembling hands.

  “Now,” Jerry said, “attack my brilliant creation.”

  The gangster swallowed some spit. “Whatever, sir!” he said, and ran to the monster, punching it in the face and breaking its shades.

  Le Destructo Magnifico's eyes were gone. In the sockets were pistols. They shot off streams of acid all over the man's head. He threw his hands up and cried as his face dropped off and dirtied his shoes. After a whole minute of sobbing and dancing around with himself, he finally collapsed to the ground and fell asleep. Forever.

  Boss Moshi nodded in approval.

  “Acid pistolas for eyes,” he said. “Just as I specified.” He clapped his hands, and a door opened. Geisha walked in and cleaned the place up and threw the body in a wheelbarrow and rolled the d
ead man away, bowing as they went. A yelling pig ran into the room and bit a gangster on the foot. He screamed out in horror and fell down. His gun shot off. We watched in wonder as the bullet bounced off a statue, then another statue, then another. The bullet hit Le Destructo Magnifico in the forehead. Oil shot out. The robot started having a real bad case of the shakes. It looked around and started weeping.

  “Momma? Where are you, Mamma? I miss you! I'm so lonely right now! I can't see you. My eyes hurt.”

  A scientist working at a computer turned to Jerry. “It's happening again.”

  Jerry ran over.

  “What! You promised you fixed it!”

  The robot looked around.

  “Wait a minute. Where am I? What's going on here?” It looked at its hands. “Jesus, what's happened to me? I'm so scared right now!”

  One of the others scientists yelled: “We've got problems!”

  Le Destructo Magnifico grabbed one of the scientists and shook him.

  “What have you done to me?!”

  We were all confused. What was happening? More importantly, what was the boss thinking? The scientists looked at each other and ran around their computers and pressed this button and that button. Jerry was fidgeting in a pool of something I dare not guess. Every now and then, he would look over his shoulder and smile gayly at the boss. Everything is all right, Jerry's nervous smile said. Everything's under scientific control.

  Le Destructo Magnifico gave us a worried look.

  “I can't live like this. Goodbye, weird world!”

  It took out a grenade and swallowed it, eyes shut tight.

  Boss Moshi yelled out, “Grenade!” and we hit the ground. For a second, the robot got real FAT...then it exploded with its metal guts raining all over us. Boss Moshi got up and stood with his arms folded across his chest. His samurai guards were next to him. The boss frowned.

  “Millions of dollars...exploded.” Boss Moshi put his hand over his face, massaging a headache. “Before I lose my mind, show me the other super goon.”

  Jerry let out a breath of relief.

  “Yes, sir – right away, sir.”

  The boss held his secretary's arm.

  “I need some coffee. Get me some, will you? Studies show that coffee is an antidepressant.”

  The secretary nodded.

  “As you wish.”

  Jerry walked over to the second monster and took hold of the white sheet.

  “Commoners, say hello...” Jerry paused, smiling, keeping everyone in suspense, “...to...Super Werewolf!”

  Jerry pulled the sheet off the second creation while a scientist played a recording of celebratory Mexican music. Everyone complained. I couldn't believe it. What I was looking at disgusted me: A female werewolf with octopus arms. She was tied to the handcart by thick, cartoon-like chains.

  “What a messed up thing,” someone near me said.

  “Someone should kill it,” said another. “Put it out of its misery.”

  Someone in the crowd started praying. Another turned around and faced the wall. A woman next to me growled. Another woman on my other side fainted. Boss Moshi's mouth was unconsciously left open, in a bad way.

  “Son of a shit. What have you done, Dr. Jerry? What have you done with my money?”

  Jerry smiled and made calming motions with his hands.

  “Now before you beautiful people get too freaked out, allow me to explain Super Werewolf. You will find her a master creation, indeed.” Jerry seemed excited. “Super Werewolf,” he called out, “it's time to show these uneducated simpletons what you can do.” He turned to his fellow scientists. “Release her!” Someone pressed a button, and the monster's chains flew off.

  Jerry pressed a few blinking buttons on her neck. A screen on her chest flashed the words: Kill Transdolphins.

  Jerry looked up at her.

  “Mission objective: Kill transdolphins.”

  She nodded.

  “I understand. Must kill transdolphins. I will go now. Goodbye.”

  Jerry spun around and looked at Boss Moshi.

  “See!” Jerry said, smiling. “I told you! I'm a genius! Don't you ever question my intellect again!”

  Boss Moshi's secretary came walking in with a tray of coffee.

  “Your coffee, boss.”

  A pig ran through her legs. The secretary screamed out and lost her balance. The tray went flying through the air. The coffee landed on Super Werewolf's head. Sparks shot out of her ears, and she started quivering. Her eyes went around in circles, and her mouth opened and closed in silent screams. Something was very wrong.

  “Get that pig out of here!” the boss said.

  A gangster chased the squealing animal out the room.

  Super Werewolf stopped shaking. Just like a slot machine, the words on her chest went around and around, going from Transdolphins to Vampires to Sasquatches to Ghosts to Lawyers and, finally, to Werewolves. Bells and whistles went off. Super Werewolf's eyes turned red. She jumped into the air and landed in front of us, staring at us in a hungry way, grinning, and said, “Kill all werewolves! Yahaha!”

  We panted. She ran up and killed many gangsters – ripping them apart, eating them, sucking their bones, and she was laughing the whole time. Boss Moshi got out his sword. Before he got close to the monster, her feet exploded in smoke, and she blasted off through the roof, into the sky...vanishing into a sparkle. Boss Moshi pointed up after her.

  “She flew away!”

  Jerry tried to say something smart, but the boss ran his blade into Jerry's neck and off went the head. The boss stayed in his action pose, staring at the ground as Jerry's noisy cadaver flailed about and fell dead. The boss didn't blink once.

  “I'm broke,” he said, focused on the floor. “I have no money.” He dropped to his knees and cried out, “I can't live life as a poor person!” He licked his sword and tore his shirt off and tried to stab himself in the belly. His sons ran to him (finally) and tackled him and hugged him.

  “No, Father!” they begged. “Things well get better! We'll get more money! Every problem comes with the answer!”

  Boss Moshi gave out a battle cry and stood. Everyone flew off him. He brought his arms up and flexed his old-man muscles. “Yessss!” he growled. “I get it now. It's all so clear. Every problem comes with the answer! The bigger the problem, the bigger the answer. Thank you, my children. My eyes are open. It's time for action. Hope is not lost. Hope is not lost.” He closed his eyes and said the words again. It was like he was trying to convince himself of their meaning. “Hope is not lost. Hope is not lost. I am great. I am great. I am conditioning myself for greatness. Constant repetition conditions my subconscious mind. Success will become a habit.”

  He looked at us.

  “We deserve our mansions, our expensive cars, our fine foods, our tall women – we deserve the best! We deserve all the money we need to experience the best in life.”

  This really got us going. We were smiling and punching into our hands like we meant business.

  The boss went on.

  “Whoever stands in the way of our happiness must DIE. That's what life is about – happiness on our own terms! It is clear: We must kill the transdolphins tonight, on the full moon. But we'll need awesome weapons. I'm thinking bazookas. Lots of them. I know where we can 'borrow' a few, haha. And by borrow, I mean steal. I'm gonna need some strong men. Do I have any volunteers?”

  We all stepped forward, ready for action.

  Craziness was happening outside. Women screamed; men hollered; cars hit their brakes, honking over and over again. We all ran out to get a look. Was it a rival gang? Was it the cops?

  Nope.

  It was raining fish. And people weren't screaming in horror. It was in pleasure. They were getting out of their cars and scooping up fish and driving home. Boss Moshi and the gang got nets and ran down to get some fish.

  “Sushi!” they cheered. “Praise the Lord for this glorious bounty!”

  I stayed behind, trying to com
prehend the situation.

  “Freak weather,” I said. “What's next? Raining whales?”

  BETH

  Ah, yes. I remember that fine morning.

  I called all the transdolphins on the island to the church. Clouds flew over us with great speed. We all looked up in amazement, pointing and cheering. The rain came, the wind got nasty, and we had to run inside – all 500 of us – all stuffed into the church. We enjoyed a great feast of boiled pig heads and baked cow meat and fried chicken skin. As we celebrated, heavy things, like tree branches and tires, banged against the main doors. People were about to die. Should I help them? Those others out there in the world? Those sinners? I wanted to. I came close to running out those doors and screaming through the city for everyone to follow me. I'd turn them into transdolphins. I'd save them all. Follow me before it's too late!

  Hardworking people with families were going to die, and there was nothing I could do to help them. My fault. All my fault. I didn't try hard enough. I should have forced them to change for their own good. I should have got all the transdolphins together and marched through Honolulu and take prisoners and force them to change, to transform. All too late now. The storm was boiling. Major guilt all over me, tightening my skin. I ran into the bathroom and wept into the sink, lost in a mad, pathetic cry. I looked in the mirror. For a second, I saw the Devil. But it was me – red-faced with horns and yellow eyes and a whipping tail with a mind of its own that knocked over shampoo bottles in the shower. Then the vision was gone. I jump-kicked the mirror and shattered it back to Hell.

  The nearby TV complained that a monster with octopus arms was attacking werewolf gangsters in Chicago. The newsman sighed and reported the local news. A tornado was in the middle of the ocean. There were reports of fish and squid and jellyfish being thrown all about Oahu. The jellyfish were especially problematic. The video showed people running around on the streets, in the middle of the storm, trying to yank the jellyfish off their heads. Everyone screamed and cried. Such confusion.

  A strange noise outside my window.

  I looked out the bathroom window...and saw a whale falling through the clouds, nose down, like a bomb. The poor creature landed somewhere in the city and sent a light shake throughout the church. A picture of Jesus on the wall fell down. The glass frame shattered. I ran downstairs and told everyone to nail surfboards and tables and whatever else over the windows. They cheered and sang holy songs as they hammered away. They were so slow – so relaxed. I yanked my hair.