| Disclaimer: This story contains much violence and general sick comedy. If you are against cruelty to animals and small children, then I suggest you not read this. However, if you want a good laugh, this will certainly cheer you up...or, at least it works for me... Part One: Marietta? by:Ami-chan I am a mere observer in this tale of madness and nonsesical jumble of things. What I tell you may be difficult for some to believe , but I tell you 'tis true. But please, do not take my word on it. No, indeed. See for yourself! A childhood terror that never was, but perhaps should have been. A seemingly harmless old woman who always tried to scare us off, but we never fell for it. Though, in and of herself she was quite frightening to behold; a haggard old lady with a sagging face and vicious eyes. It seemed almost likely she was decaying as we watched, quick to duck from her vengefully swinging cane. Her laugh was hideous, a wickedd sound coming from a tooth-deprived mouth. She has no use of her legs due to an accident - so she said - in the alleged "destruction" of a place she referred to as "Marietta". It was really quite a silly name, when you get right down to it. Far too silly to be real. Well, anyway, because of her disability, she used a hovering old old rocking chair as transportation . "Tell us a story, Crazy Old Gretchen!" someone chirped. "Tell us about the crator outside of town!" As expected, Crazy Old Gretchen responded in the only way she ever had; in anger. "That's not a crator you stupid little freak!" she shrieked, cackling madly. "That's what's left of a town called Marietta!" "Oh, yes." Her eyes narrowed in their typical demonic fashion - we'd already decided long ago that she was a spawn of hell; nothing that bitchy could possibly be human - making us all sigh in anguish. She always made us suffer, having to listen to her ramble on incessantly hour after hour. The waiting was the worst, and she knew it. "There was once a town-" someone prompted, and immediatly was knocked unconscious by Crazy OldGretchen's vengeful duck head. After glaring the rest of us into silence - we'd started laughing when she'd knocked the kid out - she took up her insane tale. "Long ago, there was a towncalled Marietta. It was a boring, lifeless town, and everyone hated it. Then, there was a nuclear war threat, but no one heeded it, but me and ol' Milo." "Then why didn't you die too?" demanded a particulary annoying girl. "Because I'm to retell this tale so no one forgets, you big-mouthed little rodent!!!" "I think you should have died, too!" There was no pause, no hesitation, no conscience involved whatsoever. Crazy Old Gretchen's cane, swung like a baseball bat, smoothly connected with the girl's head and sent her flying into a nearby freeway. Quickly, she was mangled into unrecongizable bloody masses that littered the road, much to the annoyance of the drivers. "Slightly mushed human flesh, anyone?" Crazy Old Gretchen offered, holding up a skillet and spatula. "But Crazy Old Gretchen, we don't live in West Virgina!" "Silence! You will not talk when spoken to! And I am NOT CRAZY!!" "Don't you mean spe-" "You will NOT correct me! I am superior in all things! I am above the system!" "Can you turn your head when you speak? Your breath is rank." "Shut up, or I'll sic Milo on you!" Someone snickered viciously. "The two-legged dog?" "You will NOT insult my almighty two-legged dog!" "Are we talking about her or Milo?" someone asked, trying to be quiet. Little did they know that while Crazy Old Gretchen might be insane and disabled, her hearing and sight were unnaturally sharp. "If we were talking about her we would have said bi-" A jab to the stomach sent the boy rasping backwards, clawing frantically at the air, trying to breathe. "Anyone else?" Silence. "Good. Now, as I was saying, Milo and I were trying to warn the whole town, but no one would listen." "Because you're a crazy old freak?" "Yes. Huh? HEY!!" She swung her cane, but the child had been intelligent enough to dodge, and moved out of view behind a couple other kids. "No good little so-and-so. Anyway, no one would believe me because they were stupid! It was no fault of mine! Then, the warheads were launched at us, and as I recall, I was still trying to get those numb skulls to leave." This was when the infamous Milo decided to make an appreance. He wobbled toward us with surprising speed - we never had figured out how he could walk so fast with only two legs - and plopped down by the space off to the side of the hovering rocking "Ah, Milo. Good of you to join us." Milo growled in reply, as he tried to scratch an itch with a foot that wasn't there. One of the kids aided Milo - we had nothing against Milo, even if his mistress was crazy - and the big beast-2dog seemed to melt in pure bliss. Despite the fact that he had a mentally challenged psychopathic owner, Milo was pretty cool, not to mention nice. HE didn't carry around a cane and hit people over the head. Then again, Milo didn't have any thumbs. He had a hard enough time keeping legs. "Back to the story," Crazy Old Gretchen cackled,rubbing her hands together, eyes narrowed. "Those bastards paid. All of them! Their life-blood lost in that "crator" as you call it." She tilted her odd, wrinkled little head to one side, her long grey hair suddenly being picked up in a sharp breeze, though the rest of us felt nothing. "The warhead turned out to be a pathetic dud, and managed only to destroy one place: Marietta. The other warheads were pitiously off-track and landing in the ocean somewhere. And I, I was caught in the explosion and hit with debris. That's what ruined my legs, and Milo's. I found him later, in the wreckage, when I was looking for remains. Poor Milo lost his legs, but at least he can still walk." "That's really stupid." a child noted, ruining Crazy Old Gretchen's profound wistful moment. "Yeah! There's no such place as Marietta, and there never will be!" "Your just a crazy old fool!" "Milo prob'ly just got hit by a car or somethin'." "And you probably did too, you weird old bat!" "Why you-" we scattered before she could finsih. It was our only hope. Crazy Old Gretchen was about to go into one of her super-deformed modes. We'd really ticked her off THIS time! Though our very lives hung in the balance, we still taunted and teased her. "Cr-a-zy Old Gret-chen!" we chanted, as others sang, "There's no such place as Marietta!" Slowly, Crazy Old Gretchen's face turned a bright bubbling red. Still, the children didn't stop, though several - including me - snuck off to watch the result. I, personally, did not want to feel the wrath of a should-be mental patient. "Why you litte-" the rest of her words were cut off by an explosion which, I would imagine, sounded much like a warhead might destroying a town...if Marietta had been real, that is. Bits and pieces of trees and children flew overhead, us survivors ducking and running like mad. We did not mourn their deaths at all. It was so commonplace no one cared anymore. What's a few missing kids, anyway? Later, quite mysteriously, Crazy Old Gretchen just up and vanished. No one knew where she went, and even fewer cared. However, us kids were quite curious. We missed the two-legged dog! So, I was recruted to discover what had truly taken place, unwilling though I was. Unfortunately, I was quite the journalist, even then, and again took up pen and pad. What I uncovered shocked and horrified me, as well as my friends. I will save that, though, for another day, another story, another time. Prehaps you too will be as frightened of this Crazy Old Gretchen and her two-legged dog as well. Just in case you were curious, I really do live in Marietta, and even I don't believe it exists! Questions? Comments? Did I make a stupid spelling error that you find really annoying and you want me to correct? 'Kay! Then, you can e-mail me at [email protected], and tell me all about it! |