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Charlie and the Jurassic Factory
By CeratosPit
Little Charlie Degler was a happy 7-year old boy. DesPite the fact that his family was dirt poor and lived in a house made out of popsicle sticks and used tampons, Charlie never held the fact that his parents were lazy and stupid against him. His father, Mark Degler worked for an international treaties company but he did not know what that an international treaty was and was promptly fired seven years ago. His mother, Ellie Degler was considered by many to be the brightest paleobotanist in the history of mankind. Unfortunately, maybe three other people on the planet knew what a paleobotanist was and even less cared. Four of Charlie's grandparents shared a bed in the far corner of the room. Two had died recently but everyone decided to put up with the smell for a while until the other two died. Then, they'd get around to burying them all in a refridgerator in the junkyard. Yes, it was a terrible life but somehow little Charlie managed to always look on the bright side of it.
"Dinnertime, Charlie!" mother Ellie called out. He was sitting two inches away imagining that he was watching TV.
"Oh boy! What are we having tonight!" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"Tonight, my boy, we dine like kings!" answered his father reading a newspaper he stole three years ago. "I brought home a piece of Bazooka Joe bummble gum that we can sPlit three ways! It set me back five cents but it was well worth it!"
"Can we get some?" begged Grampa Joe. "We ran out of toothpaste yesterday and we're starved!"
"Shut up, old man!" scolded Mark. "The less you eat the sooner you will taste the sweet release of death!"
"Just eat the other three, Grampa Joe." Charlie suggested. "Start with Grandma. If you finish her off before she wakes up, she won't notice. Grampa?"
Grampa Joe's heart gave out.
"Well, that's the last of 'em." said Ellie. We might as well have their service tomorrow."
"But--" interjected Charlie. "Oh well. Nevermind."
"What is it, son?" asked Mark.
"It's just that tomorrow's my birthday. But I guess we can sPend it burying Grandmas and Grampas."
"Gosh, we're sorry Charlie." said Mark. "I guess we can just dump 'em into the east river if that'll make you happier."
"Aw shucks, that would be swell!" Charlie giggled with joy.
"Where do you want to go tomorrow, son?"
"I sure would like to check out that huge factory that opened up across town 5 years ago." answered the lad. "I've always wondered what they make over there."
"Oh, Charlie!" his mother said shaking her head. "Everybody wonders. But nobody who's ever been inside has ever come out."
"Not even the Health Department?" asked Charlie.
"Far as I know, son, no government agency has ever avowed any knowledge of missing people who have gone in." Mark explained.
"Well that sucks." pouted the boy. "If there's one thing I'd like to do before I die--probably of malnourishment--it would be to visit that mysterious factory."
"I'm sorry son." Ellie sympathized. "But it'll never ever happen. The factory, I mean. The malnutrition part was probably sPot on."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Cripes! It's social services!" shouted an alarmed Mark Degler. He pulled out a handgun and held it to Charlie's head. "I won't let you tear apart what's left of our family! Even if I have to kill them all myself to make sure!"
The door opened to admit a Dr. Alan Grant. "Relax, guys." said the man. "I'm not here to take your son away, I just want to borrow him."
"Why whatever for, Alan?" Mark asked, slowly releasing his grip on the gun and his son's head.
"Well, I was eating my Fossil Flake cereal this morning as part of this nutritional breakfast..." Alan explained while pointing to a portrait the Deglers had on the wall of a bowl and box of Fossil Flakes cereal with milk, orange juice, a bowl of fruit and two slices of toast, "and I found this golden ticket in the box."
"Let me see that..." said Ellie, who forgot that she didn't know how to read. "D...deeeyaaaarrr...pee..pee...peepee...Piyoplie?"
Charlie took the ticket from his mother. "Dear, people of the world...namely Sornublar City... I, Hammond Honky have decided to allow five children chaperoned by one adult each to explore my mysterious factory in the aforementioned city. EsPecially little boys...sweet, sweet little boys...suculent little...oops, am I still writing? Ha ha...sorry. That happens to me sometimes. Anyway, the deadline will be Charlie Degler's birthday. DisPlay this ticket at the gate. See ya then. Tootles!"
"So whaddya say, Charlie?" asked Alan.
"What do I say?" asked Charlie. "WHAT DO I SAY? Why I feel like singing!
I never thought that life could be
Lived so fuckin' awesomely
But now I have finally come to see
There's a God and he loves me!..."
"Yeah, stop singing." Alan suggested.
"Now I have the golden ticket--"
Alan Grant punched Charlie in the face rght in front of his unconcerned parents. "I SAID SHUT UP, MOTHERSUCKER!"
"Okay. Sorry." The boy apologized.
"Like I meant to say, I need you to get into the factory but I'll find another kid if you start that singing crap again. Deal?"
"You got it!"
"Hey, do I smell dead grandparents?"
2 B Continued.
7/23/2005 7:18:55 PM
(Updated: 7/31/2005 5:09:07 PM)
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