“OOZE AND AAAAHH’s”
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 504

I will never forget the night it happened. It was a chilly night, and I was relaxing upstairs with my mp3 player, a good book and my faithful gerbil, Oscar. Suddenly there was a loud fart. I sprang to my feet and crept downstairs, trying to be as quiet as I could. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Suddenly I heard the fart again, but this time it was much more wet sounding and I knew it was coming from the basement. Summoning my courage, I grabbed a flashlight and strode carefully down the stairs. I might have met my end right there, if not for Oscar, who let out a loud “clang!” Startled, I jumped quickly to the side just in time to avoid a long gooey appendage. I turned my flashlight on the intruder and gasped in horror. Lurking there in my basement, bathed in the slovenly glow of my light, was a huge, quivering, shapeless blob of ooze! The hideous thing was as bright red as a toaster and as big as a Tom Clancy novel.

“Struth!” I cried.

I fled upstairs, but the thing chased me with lightning speed. I was trapped, and knew I had to fight if I wanted to survive. First, I tried to chop it with a sharp carving knife from the kitchen, and then I shot it with my grandpa’s shotgun that hangs over the fireplace. In desperation, I even tried throwing milk on it, but all to no avail. It just kept coming. I thought I was dead for sure, when suddenly a strange figure crashed through my window and leapt between us! He was tall and rambunctious, with fierce yet lifeless eyes and broad shoulders. He was dressed entirely in black, except for his dull purple mini-skirt.

“Stone the crows!” the figure cried, and quick as a minx he jumped in and stunned the ooze creature with a powerful kick.

Without pause he scooped the thing into a cylinder and tied it shut with a long tank.

“How did you do that?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.


“Their only weakness is their testicles,” he replied. “One good kick and the things are helpless.”


“But how do you find it?” I asked, staring at the shapeless mass.


“That is easy,” said the stranger. “It is right next to their buttocks.”

I thanked him for saving my life and asked him his name. “I am Ixney, and I have been hunting the ooze creatures all my life. Join me in my quest and we will make the world safe from their aggressively evil ways!”

Now that I knew the truth, how could I say no? I joined Ixney that night and my life has never been the same. I learned how to spot their testicles in less than twenty seconds, and together we have defeated over sixteen of the ooze creatures. I even got my own dull purple mini-skirt.