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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1864161
Paul returns home from a hard day at work, when he finds a dead man in his kitchen.
The Blaster

For those of you familiar with "Llamas with Hats 1,2,3 and 4" videos by secretagentbob on Youtube, the characters Paul and Carl are obvious references to those videos.

The cowboy walked into his house and hung up his dirty hat on the rack by the door.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, sounding tired, “I could use that nap I’ve been meaning to take since Tuesday right now.” He walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water when he stopped still. There was a dead man lying on the floor with a bullet hole in his head. Then the cowboy heard the door behind him open. He tensed up.
“That must be th’ killer.” he said as he slowly slid his Colt pistol out of its holster. The footsteps grew louder and louder as the intruder rounded the corner to the kitchen. The cowboy spun around.
“Carl!” the man shouted as he holstered his pistol.
“Good day sir.” Carl replied.
“Carl, do you know who killed this guy?”
“Why, I haven’t the foggiest idea old chap.”
“Carl, stop talking like an Englishman and tell me what you did.”
“Why sir, I’m shocked, no hurt, that you would automatically assume that it was me who did this gov’ner!”
“Tell me the truth Carl.”
“Fine.” he said, dropping the fake accent. “Okay, so I was home all day.”
“Yeah.”
“And I was quietly reading my book when this Chinese man walked in shouting gibberish at me.”
“Carl, Chinese people don’t speak gibberish, they speak Chinese.”
“Wow. Well that's news to me! I thought they spoke gibberish and nothing else
"Continue Carl."
"Right. Anyway, so I pulled a gun on him.”
“…Okay.”
“But then he pulled a gun on me too. Except his was a laser blaster.”
“A laser blaster.”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?” Paul asked flatly.
“I don’t know, but that’s what he called it.”
“Fine…go on.”
“So anyway, he pulls his little blaster pistol thing on me when I grabbed the shotgun from the table in front of me. So, ya know, I got the dual wielding thing going on with my pistol and shotgun. But then he pulls of his hat and chucks it like a disc and knocks my pistol out of my hand, see? Well, I don’t know what the heck he was trying to do because I just blasted him with my shotgun into the wall before he could even flinch. But when I walk over to him, I find out that he’s not actually dead.”
“Even though you just shot him point blank with a boomstick.”
“Yup, point blank with my shotty. So anyway, he gets back up, shakes the dust off of him and presses a button on his watch. And then he suddenly turns into this big ol’ squid/octopus thing with six extra arms and lunges for me. He knocks the shotgun out of my hands. Then we tumble around the floor for a few minutes, trying to get the other guy in a pin. Finally, he get's the upper hand and grabs me by the throat. Now it’s real hard to get some guy off of you when he’s got like, eight arms, but somehow, I manage to pull a punch at him and knock him off me, somehow. I really don’t know how I managed it.
Now then I pull out my buck knife from my boot and go for him. I lunge and cut off two of his little tentacle arms. But then he knocks me off of him and sends my knife flying out of my hand. Then he spots his laser gun on the floor. He goes for it while I go for mine, the six-shooter that is, not the shotty across the room
We’re both now in the kitchen by this point. But we're both pointing our guns at each other, see? Its a stalemate. The moment I shoot, he shoots. It’s a lose-lose situation here. But then I pull a trick that he wasn't expecting see? I duck and shoot the blaster out of his hand and gun goes flying out the back window,onto the porch. Then I kick him to the floor, put the gun to his head and finish him off.”
“Wow…And all of the happened while I was gone for five minutes…at the store?”
“Yep.”
“And…You didn’t just make up that story to explain the mess you made in house, is that right?”
“What? No, of course not! That story was a true as the sun on a hot day in July!”
Paul face-palmed, “Okay then, then tell me why doesn’t that dead Chinese man look like the octopus monster-
“Alien.” Carl corrected.
“-alien, in your story then, Carl?”
“Well I don’t know! His disguiser watch thingy musta reactivated when I was killing ‘em or something. Those dang blasted Chinese aliens and their crazy gadgets.”
“Caaarrrrlllll!” Paul said.
“What!? I'm telling the truth!”
“Yeah sure. Whatever. Just clean up the house before I get back.
"Where are you going? You just got back."
"I think I need to take a walk."
“Fine! But I am seriously offended that you don’t believe me! Me! Your own friend.” Carl said as he stormed off into the other room.
Paul turned and walked out the back door towards the porch.
“Carl and his crazy stories. Last week it was Aliens grabbing cattle, and then it was Aliens jumping on a train without paying for tickets and now its Aliens breaking and entering houses. What’s next, Aliens flying down in space ships and blowing up the town hall-“
He tripped over something as he was walking off the porch.
“What in tarnation?!”
Paul looked at his feet and picked up the metal thing that tripped him up off the brown, dusty ground. “What the heck is…this…” he said as his voice trailed off.
© Copyright 2012 J.A. Bencker (j_a_bencker at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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