Random Scribbles · writing

Teachings of the Ancients


Photo courtesy of Barbara W. Beacham
Photo courtesy of Barbara W. Beacham

The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.
They told of a time long before we declared war on the white man,
the war that we lost.

The petroglyphs depict the arrival of the goat head men from the sky and show how they taught our ancestors the mysteries of the universe.
The goat head men spoke to us of spirals, and staircases; even spiral staircases;
they taught us how to hunt house cats with butter knives,
and they revealed the shape of Illinois.
Most importantly they taught us how to skewer a hot dog with a stick allowing even the simplest of us to cook over a campfire without burning our fingers.

Or perhaps, Grandson, perhaps – the petroglyphs depict none of this.
Perhaps they simply offer a glimpse into the mind of a sleepy sentry.
A guard, standing watch on a warm summer night,
writing poems with pictures,
trying to stay awake.


Random Scribbles · writing

I’m Innocent, I Tell Ya

Rocky stared into the light, unblinking, he hoped he looked innocent but had a feeling that he had overlooked something.

“Honestly officers, I don’t know what you’re on about. I was at home, alone, asleep, nowhere near the chicken house. I didn’t take any eggs. You got the wrong guy.”

Detective Simmons sat behind the light, “Let’s see,” he said, “known offender, known MO, no alibi,” he paused to let Rocky sweat before he continued. Pointing he said, “You’re still wearing the mask, Rock. We got you red handed!”

“No, no, no,” Rocky protested.

Simmons went on, talking over his suspect, “We got a eyeball witness Rocky.

“Benny, what’s that chick’s name, the vic, what’s her name again?” he asked the uniformed officer who was standing by the door.

“Noodle, Detective. Her name’s Noodle.” The uniform reported.

“That’s right, Noodle,” he said almost to himself. Then turning his attention back to Rocky Racoon he continued, “Chicken Noodle picked you out of the lineup Rocky. She fingered you for stealing her eggs. You’re going back to the big house.”

Rocky sneered then. The only weapon he had left seemed to be defiance.

Image provided courtesy of GrammarGhoulPress
Rocky – Image provided courtesy of GrammarGhoulPress
Random Scribbles · writing

AKA Spider Queen of the Andeluvian System

Mission Not So Impossible, Part 2
You can discover what this is all about here: Part 1 and here: Part 2

The rear portal opened and Roger, Andeluvian Spider Prince and heir to the throne, shuffled his eight legs from the cloud of pixilated space dust into the throne room. He placed his blaster and a collection of silken sacs on the gredunza, opened the food storage locker and removed a container of E-317.

“Hello, Mother,” he said to the queen who was seated on her throne, surrounded by her attendants.

“Don’t drink directly from the container,” Queen Kirkland admonished, “get a glass.

“How was your day, Roger?”

“It kinda sucked, Mother. It seems that a certain professor, named Marron, from the Algenian School is attempting to extort us. It seems that she came across documentation of our trip to the planet Mehico. She is threatening to publicly question our immigration status. I believe she intends to demand we make public our birth certificates as well.”

“What? That’s ridiculous? What documentation could she possibly have?” The queen fired the questions at him as he tilted up the container of E-317, took a drink and sat it back in the food storage locker.

“Roger! Get a glass.”

“Sorry Mother.

“It was the journal that I wrote. The one you suggested I write about that trip to Mehico.”

“I read that journal, Roger. There is nothing incriminating in it. What does she think she has? That trip was a long time ago and is a matter of public record! No one can tie us to the massacre in Hachipipi. We were at a state dinner with the Ambassador.”

“Yes, I know, Mother. I think that Ms. Marron is simply trying to stir up a tempest of public sentiment and doubt. It’s not clear to me what her ultimate motives are though. There must be a reason that she wants to start an uproar. Or perhaps there’s not, perhaps she’s just a loony.”

The queen repositioned her eight legs tucking them underneath her. “That’s just crazy Rog. If your father, the Spider King, were still alive he would simply execute her.” The queen tilted her head and three of her eight eyes glazed over, “I miss him so. I miss the way the web would shake when he came home. I miss the simple delight he would get out of eating the children.” Her eyes refocused and she stared at him, “I’m not sure how you managed to escape his mandibles, Roger. But I’m glad that you did.

“What are we going to do about this troublesome Professor Marron? Do you need me to summon her here? Shall we invite her into our parlor, as it were?”

“It’s OK Mother, I’ve taken care of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve killed her mother. I’ve killed her and dismembered her. The pieces are in these bags.” He waved one of his eight legs at the silk sacs on the gredunza next to his blaster. “I ate her head but you can have the rest of her, if you’d like. There’s enough for a couple of meals, I think.”

Madeline Kirkland, aka Spider Queen of the Andeluvian System held her arms out wide and then wrapped them around her son. He hugged her back and they stood motionless for awhile, embracing, savoring the moment. After an appropriate amount of time she twisted his head off and began to feast.

Suddenly she remembered her attendants, “You guys can have the professor, if you’d like,” she indicated the sacs Roger had left by the portal.