Specimen
By Roald E. Peterson III
Copyright 2013 Roald E. Peterson III
Carl was just passing the large maple tree at the bend in the path when the humming started.
That's odd, he thought, looking around for the source. As he did so, the sound grew louder, as from an approaching dynamo. He couldn't see anything in the immediate area that would cause such a sound, and he realized that it didn't seem to come from any particular direction, but was rather an omni-directional droning that suggested that the source surrounded him.
"Hello?" he said tentatively, and then more sure, "Is anyone there?"
No answer came but he wasn't sure that made him feel any better. Maybe the electric company has put up a new power station, he thought, and it's too small to see, and they turned it on just as I walked by, and... He trailed off, realizing the increasing implausibility of what he was saying.
Abruptly, there was a bright flash of white light, and a sudden chill to the air. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed several leaves on the tree had frosted over. Then his attention was drawn back forward again as two bizarre shapes moved toward him. The approaching figures strongly resembled a crazed caricaturist's idea of a potato wedded with an octopus. They were large and bulky, and yet moved surprisingly quickly on tentacles that seemingly sprouted from everywhere. Small black eyes peered out at him and their dusty brown color only served to heighten their spud-like appearance. The tentacles were apparently used for other things as well, for both creatures stopped, and began to wave them in complicated patterns.
Carl staggered, staring in disbelief at the figures before him. A rather lumpy but surprisingly resonant baritone came from one of the beings.
"Hmmm, we seem to have frightened it. We must be missing... Oh yes! The indigenous attire." Then, in an accusatory tone, "Urble, why didn't you remind me of that before we left?" Not waiting for a reply, it promptly vanished, followed by the other, leaving a blast of hot air, only to reappear again seconds later.
Carl, who had been looking on in unmoving silence this whole time, stared at the two now outlandishly garbed figures. The one addressed as Urble wore what Carl guessed was an attempt at blue jeans and several tentacle tips were sheathed in purple and green argyle socks. A derby on top completed the affair. The other creature sported a tie-dyed shirt, leather moccasins, and a purple beret slung jauntily atop its bulk. Carl stumbled backwards, emitting a yelp, as he took in this scene.
Again the irregular voice issued forth, "See, Urble, how much better this is? Notice how its coloring is paler now, undoubtedly due to the calming effect of our well-dressed appearance, and of course that high- pitched noise shows relief, now that we seem more suitably clothed to its barbaric eyes."
"Yeah, I think you're right, Chief, and did you see how it bowed backwards in greeting? I dunno 'bout this here native skirt though. Kinda makes me itch," said Urble, rubbing several sock-covered appendages together to illustrate.
"That's 'native dress,' you idiot, not skirt! I would think that the encephlogrammatic language training would have taken effect on even your mediocre mind."
"Sure, Boss, I took them 'ceph tapes like you said, so we can, like, speak the local lingo and all. Hey! You think it maybe understands what we're saying now?"
Urble and supervisor both fell silent, and then slowly turned to face Carl, who stood there in stunned silence. He began to speak, falteringly, "Uh, well, I can see you two are rather busy, so," he hurried on, "I'll just be on my way." He rose to his feet, turned, and started off the other way, only to feel a fuzzy but firm touch from behind. He looked back to see an argyle-clad limb grip his shoulder.
"Just a sec there, buddy. You ain't going nowhere just yet."
"What do you want?" Carl sputtered, still staring at the argyle sock.
Urble's superior stepped up, saying, "I, Burff, and my assistant, Urble, have ventured on this scientific compilation in order to procure a specimen of fauna from the local habitat, to be studied at our leisure."
"Uh, of course--"
"He means you," said Urble matter-of-factly.
Carl stiffened, preparing to yell, but suddenly there was no air left anywhere. Yelling seemed like too much trouble, just like it was too much trouble to keep standing, and why bother to stand anyway? Fighting this sudden lethargy, he struck out at Urble, eliciting a meaty thud, before his legs folded.
His last sight was of Urble standing over him, waving his argyles again, and then everything faded to black.