(From the archives)
Once upon a time there was a marmot named Beatrice. Beatrice was a very special marmot because she had three eyes. You might think this was a handy trait to have, but it actually triplicated her vision and made everything so blurry she couldn’t hunt. She depended on her boyfriend Reginald for food, and Reginald was a lazy, good-for-nothing loser who usually just brought home roadkill and pretended he’d killed it himself. She was always a little suspicious about the stale and flattened quality of the meals, but she was usually too hungry to care. They lived in a hollowed out tree in the forest. They slept till late in the afternoon, since Reginald was in a marmot rock band and stayed out till all hours of the night. Beatrice didn’t really care for their sound–just a lot of hissing and screeching, accompanied by Bernard, the French import marmot (he thought he was so cool because of his radio collar), banging on a rabbit skull. However, she tried to be supportive in Reginald’s creative endeavors.
One day she was sitting in the tree feeling sorry for herself. She felt ugly and freakish because Reginald’s band members had been making fun of her third eye, and she was really hungry because last night’s dinner had been nothing but muddy, rotten frogs. She started to cry, when suddenly there was a poof of green light and a fairy appeared.
Beatrice had always distrusted fairies. She didn’t like the way they pranced around and sang those stupid songs about love and flowers, and their clothes were always ragged and rather suggestive, she thought. They *acted* like they were sweet and kind, but she’d heard vicious rumors (from other marmots she trusted) about them eating human babies and such. Not that she much cared for humans, but it was kind of revolting. But regardless, this fairy stood and hovered gleefully above her, sprinkling rose petals and glitter around in a very annoying manner. One petal actually got into Beatrice’s mouth and she choked, spending several minutes trying to cough it back up while the fairy waited patiently, as if she were used to this sort of thing.
“Oh Beatrice,” sighed the fairy in a wispy, sweet voice. “Don’t cry about your third eye, for in it lies more power than you could ever dream of.”
Beatrice said nothing and watched the fairy skeptically. The fairy looked as though she were waiting for Beatrice to do something more lively, and seemed disappointed in her cautious reaction. She flapped her silvery wings and flew over to Beatrice, touching her third eye.
In a flash, Beatrice could SEE. And it wasn’t just ordinary seeing, she could project some sort of silvery-green light through the third eye. She trained her light beam on the fairy and was about to utter words of gratitude, when suddenly she saw exactly how froofy the fairy was. Glitter and rose petals? Were those FLOWERS poking out of the tips of her antennae? Those little purple slippers with the curled-up toes were obnoxious, there was no way around that.
“Damn,” though Beatrice as she examined the fairy. “Get some real shoes already.” Suddenly the fairy plummeted to the ground, and Beatrice saw that the ghastly slippers had disappeared and now she was wearing steel-toed combat boots, whose weight her wings could not support. The fairy lay in a bloody heap on the ground.
Beatrice felt a moment of remorse, but it was soon overcome by an overwhelming sense of power. All she had to do was train her beam of light on something, and whatever she desired would happen!
A marmot had never felt so much power.
Beatrice smoothed her fur and left the dead tree for the last time. She marched down to Reginald’s band practice space. There they were, all five of them, making a racket and galloping about like they were God’s gift to marmots. To hell with that, she decided. She fixed her beam on Reginald’s face (quite ugly, now that she could really see it) and said, “This is for all the stinking, maggoty possums you brought me!” and suddenly Reginald was covered in insects squirming all over his body.
She turned to Bernard. “This is for making fun of people with deformities!” and suddenly Bernard had six arms, none of which worked.
Systematically, she exacted her revenge on each marmot, heedless of their shrieks of terror. When she was finished, she walked out of the forest, contemplating how she would take over the world with her new powers. She saw a car approaching on the nearby road. Boldly, she stepped into the road and stood on her hind legs with her mouth open, thinking, “Stop and give me your food!” To her delight, the humans rolled down their windows and squealed, “Oh how CUTE!” and dropped peanuts into her waiting mouth. She did this to several more cars until her belly was heavy with rich food.
This was unfortunate, because it deadened her senses and a drunk driver ran over her. Reginald later came along and dragged her body to the band members, where they ate her, consuming her flesh and eradicating the terrible spells she’d put on them. They used her bones for musical instruments, and lived out their pathetic, gory marmot lives in infamy.
The end.
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Tags: rodents, super powers by splarks
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