Fight of the Wombats (an #fmfparty challenge)

I've been challenged to write about Fighting Wombats by Hannah.  And it's on, it's so on.

Dr. Wombat was at it again.  I knew he was up to something when it seemed like he wasn't up to anything.  Agent Effervescence- that's my partner in and out of the cape- was hoping for a date night, but a super hero never gets to rest, even if that resting was supposed to happen at a non-refundable B&B in some undisclosed location.  I'm hoping that saving the world-- again-- will get me off the hook for this one.

The thing about Dr. Wombat is we used to be friends.  He never knew I was a super, but he and my alter ego would get coffee and discuss the weather and Eve and I even had him over for a dinner a couple of times.  But he was playing a dangerous game.  If PETA hadn't heard about his animal experimentation he may have been lucky, but they never pass up the opportunity to throw red liquid on someone, even if that red liquid is marked "Experimental Transmorgification- DO NOT SPILL."  Then he changed.  I mean, he really changed.  Half man, half wombat, and nefarious and feral to boot.

Casing out his not-so-secret secret lab, I caught a glimpse of him in the window.  He was pouring liquids from one vial to the other, his furry hands and giant ears a terrible reminder of the man he used to be.  His teacup sized nose twitched.  I didn't even see them coming.  Hundreds, thousands of them.  Wombats.  Wombat spiders. Wombat birds.  Wombat lizards. All manner of beasts genetically meshed with wombats coming at me, teeth and claws and fur.  I punted and karate chopped a few but there were too many to fight.  I reached for my side arm but it was gone, whipped away by the tongue of one of the lizard wombats.  I struggled, but they dragged me down the wall into the lab, where Dr. Wombat waited.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully.  "At last, at long last, my nemesis."

"Nemesis?  Your last article said that you were after PETA!" I said, writhing in a sea of wombats.

"You, Procter Marvelous, are PETA.  It's all on your name.  And you thought I wouldn't figure it out?"  He threw his head back and laughed, spittle flying from his pointed teeth.

"What? That's ridiculous."

Dr. Wombat gestured to the mass of wombatlings and they moved me across the floor like a crowd surfer.  Grasping my mask, he tore at it with his claws.  It ripped easily.  Stepping back, he gasped.

"You.  This is the greatest betrayal of all."  He let out a wail and collapses onto the ground.  "Take him, do what you must my children."

The howls and cries and wails pierced my ears as they shredded my skin, tongues lapping up the blood.  Thinking of Eve in her Bed & Breakfast somewhere by the sea, I succumbed to the wombats.


because what every post needs is wombat riding a turtle

No comments:

Post a Comment