Tuesday, September 9, 2014



by Annie Evett

Garlock’s face oozes as he smirk. “Got me self a perdy one here.” Another tentacle slithered over Sally’s struggling body.

“Now what do yer look like under all them undergarments; and I ain’t talking about your clothes.”

“Leave her out of this Garlock. It’s got nothing to do with her or…” as you sweep your arm across the scene, “ Any of these humans.  Let’s settle our differences Intergalactic style. Mano to Mano.”

”Intergalactic style?” Garlock roars with laughter. “Mano to Mano? You dumb shit. You are in the wrong century to be using that lingo.” A tentacle tightens across Sally’s chest as another strokes her ringlets. She continues to struggle but you see her human form is beginning to fail. Garlock lifts her up and brings her closer to his enormous face. A rough tongue extends from his grotesque mouth and, dripping with green saliva, delicately touches her brow. She attempts to squirm away, but her thrashing weakens.

“Hmm hybrid, My favourite type of relief. Just what I need after I kill you Rachorin.”

Sally’s face begins to drain of colour.

“You’re killing her. Stop! I’m the one you are after.”

Garlcok’s tentacles relax a little.

“Got a soft spot for this one? Just like the Queens little niece huh? I could kill you with most of my tentacle tied behind my back, while I’m holding this youngun and still not raise an ooze. Do yourself a favour Rachorin, come peacefully and I won’t destroy all the humans; but I get to keep my toys.”

His tongue flickers across Sally’s lips. She appears to have gone limp. You suppose she has passed out as you register her oxygen intake and heartbeats as being normal. You notice her eyelids fluttering. She is still conscious.

What was she up to?

You have not time to ponder the mind of a woman, hybrid or not. A steaming shot of shit screams past you as you twist elegantly out of the way. The load smashes its way through the General Store window. Garlock growls at you.

“Enough chit chat and playing. Tick Tock, Times a wasting. Are yer man enough to stand there and take what’s coming to yer? Please start a fight, the Queen will be pissed I killed you, but I’ll sure enjoy it.”

Garlock tests a tentacle up Sally’s nostril. You cringe as it slithers further into her nose and exits from the other. She doesn’t move a muscle.

“Hmm. I’ll play with this one later.”

His tentacles release Sally onto the dusty street. Petticoats and frills flutter in the slight breeze. One of the townsfolk coughs and a chair scrapes across the flooring behind you. A projectile of shit streams out from one of Garlock’s tentacles, knocking over the man who attempted to stand up. One of your hidden eyes registers that it was the preacher. Smothered in steaming shit, you see he is still clutching his bible and had attempted to raise the cross which normally hung around his neck.

Stupid move. However, your respect for the man of religion has just doubled. He wriggles and splutters, but no-one dares to move from their positions to assist him, for fear of the same treatment.

The stench of the shit laying around the main street and Garlock’s mountainous body odour reaches new heights. You'd better get this done. Your eyes twitch, hoping your crew are in place and remember the drill. You pull at your human skin and begin to peel it away to reveal your true form. Sudden intakes of breath and prayers are whispered behind you as the townsfolk see you for the first time. Your glossy skin ripples. What you don’t make up with size, you are more than adequate in pure unrestrained muscle, sexual energy; and you certainly haven’t had any complaints from your partners. You admire one of your own tentacles and think briefly about the Queens niece.

Garlock lifts a thick tentacle holding a laser-powered sonic blaster. You get distracted as you gawk at the new technology and design. Stroking it tenderly with a smaller tentacle, Garlock sneers.

“The Queen gave it to me special. Made me turn it to stun, so’s I can bring yer back to her and she will deal with you. He he he. If it were me, I’d let you kill me. You’re not gunna last long when the Queen gets a hold of you.”

He flicks a switch and a blue light streams through the circuitry of the inside of the gun, giving Garlock an eerie glow. He taps at it playfully.

“Awww. Seems the stun option don’t work. Oh, and I lied about the townfolk here. You’re all gunna die.”

From the side, Sally screams with a raw energy so guttural, so passionate, even Garlock stops for a second. But that was all she needs. A stiletto knife she had secreted in her undergarments swiftly comes to hand, and is flung across the dusty space, finding its target in one of his 20 eyes. Puss and green ooze bust frothing from the wound. Garlock clutches it and let off the blaster, slicing the hotel’s roof and setting fire to the stable.

Town folk, once paralysed with fear, now find their feet and scatter, knocking chairs and tables across the street. Sally rips at her dress and pulls at her skin. She begins to transform. You are secretly impressed and find her even more attractive in her hybrid Malarian form.

Oh shit. Really? Not now.

You pulse one of your tentacles in the hope she notices your bulging…..Malarianhood; instantly forgetting the environment you have placed yourself in.

No wonder Malarian males don’t die of old age.

Sally storms toward Garlock ducking and weaving his attempts to capture her in his tentacles. Her smaller, more nimble hybrid form has taken on all the positive factors of each species.

She is poetry in motion. Your tongue swells with desire.

Garlock’s blaster fires indiscriminately, resulting in more fires and larger holes within the buildings of the town.

Your pulses are raised and you position your body in an alluring way towards Sally. Somewhere in your brain, you remember you are supposed to be doing something; but when the attraction procedure starts, your species can’t stop until mating has occurred.

You thrust one of your lower tentacles toward her in a manner no other Malarian female has been able to resist.

A burning sensation cuts into your feverish mind. You block it and begin the traditional Malarian mating whistle. Sally turns to stare at you. You see her mouth beginning to open and you grin, knowing you have her full attention and lust. The last thing you see is a succession of laser bolts streaming from Garlock’s blaster as she fails to wrench it from his grasp.


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