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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Science Fiction
- Subject: Creatures & Monsters
- Published: 07/04/2021
Author's Note:
This is just late night silliness after gorging on Holiday Food, fireworks displays, and to much company.
*****
He heard a rustling sound. Not really rustling per se, kind of a slimy squishy sound over things that would rustle, like old potato chip bags, or dried dead leaves. He turned to look. It was only a Slaggle feeding on some left over plastic and refuse left near the beach. He turned back to look at the ocean. A few minutes later he heard a soft sound. It took him a second to recognize it.
It was speech. And it was coming from the Slaggle. It was so soft a sound, just one step above a whisper. He had to lean in towards the sounds to make out what he recognized as words. Words. In English. His mind stopped working for a second. Slaggles never talked, not that he (or anyone else on planet Earth for that matter) knew. Yet this one had glided up almost next to him…and it was talking. To him.
“What are you looking at?”
Had any Human asked him that question, he would have continued looking at the ocean and said:
“Nothing, just thinking.”
But this wasn’t a Human Being. It was a Slaggle. A cross between an amoeba, and a pliable piano. Some folks called the prettier Slaggles: “Steinways.” Because their alternating black and white stripes were only on the wide end of a Slaggle. Giving it the appearance of a Grand Piano, if Grand Pianos were Jelly fish like in structure and substance.
Nobody (including him) knew where Slaggles came from. Most folks thought they were some form of Alien Life. Other folks thought they were some mutant species brought up from the depths of the ocean to scrounge the plastic from the beaches. Still others thought they were a Laboratory Experiment gone wrong…an experiment to clean up pollution and eat all the tons of plastic that would outlive any Civilization. For Slaggles ate Plastic. And metal cans. And any long chain hydrocarbons - like oil, gasoline, or kerosene. The seemed indifferent around Humans.
You couldn’t kill them. God knows when they first showed up on the Beaches around the world, many people tried. Guns. Axes. Fire. Acid. Nothing worked. They just kind of ate whatever you tried to kill them with. People stopped trying. Especially once they noticed that the beaches were getting cleaner. The ocean was getting healthier, fish stocks were growing. The Planet itself was healing. People left them to wander on their solitary quest for the detritus of a polluted world.
And one of them just asked him a question.
“ I was thinking about an old girlfriend.”
“How old?”
He stared at the Slaggle.
“What? You mean how old was she?”
The Slaggle turned into a purple Steinway. At least that is what it looked like to him.
“I am sorry. I seemed to offend you. I have been learning your language. Doesn’t “old” refer to age? So how old is she?
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. His mind reviewed his having a conversation with a creature that ate chemical waste and thought old girlfriend meant aged girlfriend…and agreed with the laughter. So he laughed again.
He explained that old could also mean just something from the past. Not just chronological age. Of course, he then had to explain why he laughed, what laughter meant, and that led to a discussion about the word funny. The Slaggle caught on fast. Within an hour, the Slaggle had expanded its vocabulary to match his. He was stunned at the Slaggle’s ability to learn.
“My God, you are bright. You must be a genius among your kind.”
And that led to a rather lengthy conversation about God, why bright didn’t mean just well lit, and what is a genius. It was exhausting after a while. At least for him. The Slaggle seemed to be lapping up ideas, concepts and language with the same single mindedness it ate the plastic waste along the shoreline.
The sun was setting when the Slaggle suggested that they meet again tomorrow to carry on the conversation. He was more than willing to accommodate the Slaggle. He had learned a lot. He may even be the only person that a Slaggle had ever talked with. He would ask the Slaggle …tomorrow. He wished he had a girlfriend now, because he was aching to tell someone he trusted that he spoke with a Slaggle. Who would believe him? That made him laugh out loud.
This time the Slaggle knew enough to ask: “What’s so funny?”
So he told him.
“Call your old girlfriend. She would believe you.”
He stopped laughing. Maybe she would.
“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me…what if she has moved on in life?”
The Slaggle laughed. And dammed if it didn’t sound like someone tinkling the ivories up near High C.
“You can invite her to talk to me herself if she doesn’t believe you. Surely she couldn’t resist that invitation.”
He thought that was excellent reasoning. So he called her that night.
She was delighted to meet the Slaggle. She asked it what its name was. Her face lit up with surprise when she found out that he never thought to ask the Slaggle if it had a name. The Slaggle didn’t hesitate to tell her its name.
“On my world I am called…George.”
All three being laughed with glee.
“George? Really, George? You are kidding me!”
She said wheezing laughter. Laughter that only grew in intensity when George answered her back:
“No, I can’t make kids with you. You are a human female…and the thought is disgusting.”
And that led to a conversation that would have won a Biologist a Nobel Prize. By the end of it, two species were making jokes that would have embarrassed the elders on two planets. The more fussy and prudish on either planet would have “tsk tsk” them into silence. They just laughed at each others ignorance while increasing their knowledge.
It took a year before the Slaggle and the young couple decided to tell the world what they had learned from each other. The two Humans were the first to be Married by another Sentient Creature. George got his License and Ordination over the internet…which made all three of them giggle. When the Slaggle named George finished the Ceremony with the traditional final lines:
“I now pronounce you Man and Wife.”
She asked the Slaggle if it was Legal.
“Not on my Planet. And what you do on your honeymoon is definitely not legal.”
They laughed out loud. They laughed again when George the Slaggle; ate all the cans tied to the back of their car…and the plastic cords they were tied to.
At the Reception, the Human Guests ate cake. The Slaggles ate the decorations.
People all over the world would wave and say hello to Slaggles now. But none of them called Slaggles …well…Slaggles. Not anymore. Now they called them George. And George would make them laugh with its return greeting:
“Hello Peoples.”
Slaggles.(Kevin Hughes)
Author's Note:
This is just late night silliness after gorging on Holiday Food, fireworks displays, and to much company.
*****
He heard a rustling sound. Not really rustling per se, kind of a slimy squishy sound over things that would rustle, like old potato chip bags, or dried dead leaves. He turned to look. It was only a Slaggle feeding on some left over plastic and refuse left near the beach. He turned back to look at the ocean. A few minutes later he heard a soft sound. It took him a second to recognize it.
It was speech. And it was coming from the Slaggle. It was so soft a sound, just one step above a whisper. He had to lean in towards the sounds to make out what he recognized as words. Words. In English. His mind stopped working for a second. Slaggles never talked, not that he (or anyone else on planet Earth for that matter) knew. Yet this one had glided up almost next to him…and it was talking. To him.
“What are you looking at?”
Had any Human asked him that question, he would have continued looking at the ocean and said:
“Nothing, just thinking.”
But this wasn’t a Human Being. It was a Slaggle. A cross between an amoeba, and a pliable piano. Some folks called the prettier Slaggles: “Steinways.” Because their alternating black and white stripes were only on the wide end of a Slaggle. Giving it the appearance of a Grand Piano, if Grand Pianos were Jelly fish like in structure and substance.
Nobody (including him) knew where Slaggles came from. Most folks thought they were some form of Alien Life. Other folks thought they were some mutant species brought up from the depths of the ocean to scrounge the plastic from the beaches. Still others thought they were a Laboratory Experiment gone wrong…an experiment to clean up pollution and eat all the tons of plastic that would outlive any Civilization. For Slaggles ate Plastic. And metal cans. And any long chain hydrocarbons - like oil, gasoline, or kerosene. The seemed indifferent around Humans.
You couldn’t kill them. God knows when they first showed up on the Beaches around the world, many people tried. Guns. Axes. Fire. Acid. Nothing worked. They just kind of ate whatever you tried to kill them with. People stopped trying. Especially once they noticed that the beaches were getting cleaner. The ocean was getting healthier, fish stocks were growing. The Planet itself was healing. People left them to wander on their solitary quest for the detritus of a polluted world.
And one of them just asked him a question.
“ I was thinking about an old girlfriend.”
“How old?”
He stared at the Slaggle.
“What? You mean how old was she?”
The Slaggle turned into a purple Steinway. At least that is what it looked like to him.
“I am sorry. I seemed to offend you. I have been learning your language. Doesn’t “old” refer to age? So how old is she?
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. His mind reviewed his having a conversation with a creature that ate chemical waste and thought old girlfriend meant aged girlfriend…and agreed with the laughter. So he laughed again.
He explained that old could also mean just something from the past. Not just chronological age. Of course, he then had to explain why he laughed, what laughter meant, and that led to a discussion about the word funny. The Slaggle caught on fast. Within an hour, the Slaggle had expanded its vocabulary to match his. He was stunned at the Slaggle’s ability to learn.
“My God, you are bright. You must be a genius among your kind.”
And that led to a rather lengthy conversation about God, why bright didn’t mean just well lit, and what is a genius. It was exhausting after a while. At least for him. The Slaggle seemed to be lapping up ideas, concepts and language with the same single mindedness it ate the plastic waste along the shoreline.
The sun was setting when the Slaggle suggested that they meet again tomorrow to carry on the conversation. He was more than willing to accommodate the Slaggle. He had learned a lot. He may even be the only person that a Slaggle had ever talked with. He would ask the Slaggle …tomorrow. He wished he had a girlfriend now, because he was aching to tell someone he trusted that he spoke with a Slaggle. Who would believe him? That made him laugh out loud.
This time the Slaggle knew enough to ask: “What’s so funny?”
So he told him.
“Call your old girlfriend. She would believe you.”
He stopped laughing. Maybe she would.
“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me…what if she has moved on in life?”
The Slaggle laughed. And dammed if it didn’t sound like someone tinkling the ivories up near High C.
“You can invite her to talk to me herself if she doesn’t believe you. Surely she couldn’t resist that invitation.”
He thought that was excellent reasoning. So he called her that night.
She was delighted to meet the Slaggle. She asked it what its name was. Her face lit up with surprise when she found out that he never thought to ask the Slaggle if it had a name. The Slaggle didn’t hesitate to tell her its name.
“On my world I am called…George.”
All three being laughed with glee.
“George? Really, George? You are kidding me!”
She said wheezing laughter. Laughter that only grew in intensity when George answered her back:
“No, I can’t make kids with you. You are a human female…and the thought is disgusting.”
And that led to a conversation that would have won a Biologist a Nobel Prize. By the end of it, two species were making jokes that would have embarrassed the elders on two planets. The more fussy and prudish on either planet would have “tsk tsk” them into silence. They just laughed at each others ignorance while increasing their knowledge.
It took a year before the Slaggle and the young couple decided to tell the world what they had learned from each other. The two Humans were the first to be Married by another Sentient Creature. George got his License and Ordination over the internet…which made all three of them giggle. When the Slaggle named George finished the Ceremony with the traditional final lines:
“I now pronounce you Man and Wife.”
She asked the Slaggle if it was Legal.
“Not on my Planet. And what you do on your honeymoon is definitely not legal.”
They laughed out loud. They laughed again when George the Slaggle; ate all the cans tied to the back of their car…and the plastic cords they were tied to.
At the Reception, the Human Guests ate cake. The Slaggles ate the decorations.
People all over the world would wave and say hello to Slaggles now. But none of them called Slaggles …well…Slaggles. Not anymore. Now they called them George. And George would make them laugh with its return greeting:
“Hello Peoples.”
Gail Moore
07/04/2021Brilliant, I loved it. Everyone should have a slaggle.
Just wondering what my one will look like and planning a feast of old plastic bottles for it to naw on! :-)
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Kevin Hughes
07/04/2021Aloha Gail,
I agree! I have enough plastic to raise a herd of Slaggles. LOL
Smiles, Kevin
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