Lackluster Times for a Mutant

The Za left a trail as it walked down the road. The trail was slimy and was very viscous. The Za had numerous complaints filed against him in the past, for the viscosity of the trail.

The road was long and winding, but it made no difference to The Za.

The Za used to be a snail. It was happy and content, living in snaily peace, until one day it shell broke. The Za became very upset at becoming a slug and decided to leave its snail brethren. It slugged away, when a little boy, who had run away from home, noticed it. The boy picked up The Za, cradling him with almost Godlike power. The Za reminded the boy of better days when he could play in the pond and not fear repercussions.

The boy ran with The Za in his arms until no more could he run. He put The Za down in front of a laboratory, and went on his way.

A scientist outside of the laboratory stole The Za away, and tested stem cells on him.

The Za got his shell back, but in the process became humongous (human-sized), grew an extra head, arms, legs, voices in his head, the powers of speech and thought, feathers, and flowers poking out of his gigantic shell.

The Za walked down a road and became swept up in a block party going on. He milled through the people and found a few people sipping beers- through paper bags- tossing darts at a dartboard latched onto the side of a house. The Za was still buzzed from his previous early-morning drinking and decided to play Drunken Darts with the people.

They accepted him with open arms and challenged him to a game. He took a few sips of their beers and tossed darts. He won the first game and moved up through the ranks to challenge the least-buzzed contender while he was at his most drunken state.

The Za tossed his first dart and by grace of the wind acquired a bulls-eye. His opponent, solemn-faced and stony-eyed- tossed his first dart but, O the capricious air, acquired only three of five possible points.

The Za, feeling good, tossed his next dart. Alas, three of five points!

His opponent tossed his next dart and scored a perfect.

The Za was no longer feeling good. The score was tied and he could no longer stand without supporting himself. He tossed his last dart and succeeded in sticking it into the house.

His opponent grinned and tossed his last dart carelessly. A bulls-eye.

The Za trudged back home and decided to slit his wrists and end his miserable mutated life. But he passed out in his apartment before he could do so and reawakened the next night in the usual grime of a suburban apartment and forgot all about his death wish.

The next day, he had to go to he lab for a checkup. If he didn't go, it was possible he would die, considering he's a broken mutated snail.

The scientists at the lab gave him more medication and sent him on his way.

The Za came across the man who bested him at darts the previous day. "Hey," the Za said to him.

"Hey. Sorry about the other day."

"What do you mean?"

"That game was rigged. They set it up so that you'd fall hard to me."

"What?!"

The Za had figured that that was why the men had accepted him so eagerly when normally they fake-retched at the site of him (and always offered him salt on his foods when he was at dinner with them). But compromising the integrity of a GAME?!

"Yeah... sorry. I- I had to go along, I mean, it was the guys and everything...." He looked genuinely apologetic.

"Yeah- no. It's alright."

The two parted ways and the Za decided to kill himself again. But a new Oprah was on, so he didn't.

He forgot about it the next morning when the contents of the bottles forced the idea out of his mind.

The End

~C

{Please let me know if this is still too short.}