Story: Victory

Wrote this for the 2014 Cuffer, but kind of forgot to finish it and submit, so I’ll just leave it for your amusement.

Yes, b’ye. H’aliens.  Wanted the planet, I spose. You gonna eat that gull?

Well, from what I heard, they built a great big Jesus laser on the h’island. No, never ended up with too many jobs out of it. Few American fellers ran the whole jig.  They used to have bases all over anyways, so I spose they just fired one of them back up for that.

Now, I only heard about it – you got any dandelions?  Goes nice in a pot with a bit of seagull. – anyways, from what I was tol’ you had to be chose for it by a bunch of high muckity-mucks with the military in Town.  You had to have a clean police record, for one t’ing, which I never.  I had too many little run-ins when I was younger.

No, no drugs or nothing, we just couldn’t afford to live half decent, was the problem.  I took a few t’ings now and then for me mudder and fadder to have a bit of comfort.  Never nothing serious. Had to carry a gun now and then, but I never fired it or nothing.

Well, b’ye, that was what it was by then.  Bit of money comes through, you got a lot of damage out of it. Fellers loses their heads over a few dollar bills.  Oh, I wonder if old Bill got any salt.  You mind checkin with him?  I can wait.

Oh, that’s the stuff.

Now they used to call this place Victory Park or something. They put walls up around ‘un right after the  first buddy crashed. I guess ‘e was like them Japanese in the old wars, trying to put ‘es ship down into the barrel of that laser. But a thing that big, well Lord Jesus, you hardly knows if it’s a moon or a h’asteroid or what it is.  Frigger came down out in the water and the whole place got soaked.  Laser stayed on, though.  For what that’s worth.

They came out of the ocean, what was left of ’em. I don’t spose they had too much working after they hit, but they had enough survived to take on the young fellers for a while. One good thing about the goddamn gun registry, we could find every single man as had something to shoot.  And we needed every one of ’em.

They was h’odd shape, ay? Right round, they was. I spose that’s what you looks like when you spends all that time up there in space.  Radiation, no doubt.  Big friggers, big ol’ crab’s legs on ’em too. And all kinds of stuff they probably had when they was all working. But we shot ’em down quick enough that they couldn’t do much more than try to hit us on the way down.

A course, h’all that was after the rocks they sent. Would you mind giving that a taste?  Yes, I knows it’s awful. Seagull stew, I calls it.  Not fit to eat. But sure it’s the only meat you can find now, unless you particularly likes rotten stuff or you got the balls to go out on the water. Wouldn’t be me. They’re down there still, some of ’em, trying to figure out how to make a go of it on the ocean floor while they fixes everything that got broke on the way down.

You knows, now, they had a ton of rocks brought with ’em from out somewhere by Mars or something. And they dropped all those wherever they could find that might have a bit of spine to it. But they missed Newfoundland, b’ye. Nobody expected there to be some giant friggin cannon in the middle of the woods; I spose they never knew what to make of all the little power chummies out in the water. Wouldn’t look like much from out there, but you gets enough of ’em feeding into a gun like that one, well, you got trouble.

Serves ’em right.  We never did get our due.  Did you know the Newfoundlanders used to be the most beloved and feared men in the British army?  Yes b’ye, me grandfadder told me that.

Well, I got to mosey on now, looks like they’re coming in over the wharf again.  Grab your long rifle there. 

Watch out for the plasma. Thanks for the gull.