REPOST/LNH: Eggplant the Easter Miracle Komodo Dragon #4 of 4

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at
Sun Apr 1 14:04:56 PDT 2018

                  The Jong Company Proudly Presents:
              Eggplant the Easter Miracle Komodo Dragon

                      "The Book of Miracle Pets"

The Net.Mexico Institute for the Criminally Inane *sic* --

The writer scribbled something down in his notebook as he looked at the 
prisoner behind the super protective glass.  The prisoner looked a bit 
like one of those Dog Catcher types from some old cartoon.  Almost 
comical.  But not quite.

"You know -- the day he died, I laughed.  While the rest of the world 
was sobbing.  Not me.  Will admit though that some tiny part of me was 
sad.  Sad that I wasn't the one who had killed him.  Killed Cauliflower."

He called himself the Miracle Pet Catcher.  His real name was unknown. 
He had some cosmic Net that allowed him to trap Holiday Miracle Pets. 
But he didn't have that anymore.  Now he was just a fat man with a 5 
o'clock shadow in a prison uniform.  Locked away.

"We battled.  Cauliflower and me.  Once.  He won of course.  Every 
single day at 2:30 I have this urge.  This urge to drink Eggnog.  That's 
what he gave me.  I hate eggnog!!  I hate it!!!  Can't get rid of it 
though.  No doctor believes me.  But it's true.  Every damn 2:30. 
Nothing can stop it.  Nothing."

The writer spoke up.  "Why do you hate them?  The Miracle Pets?"

"Hate them?"  The Miracle Pet Catcher laughed.  "That's why you're here. 
  Isn't it?  To understand?  To understand them.  Yes.  You hate them 
too.  They've hurt you.  And you want to destroy them.  Destroy them all."

"I'm just -- writing a book.  Just a..."

"No.  It will take more than a book to destroy them.  A whole lot more. 
  But it will be a start.  You want to know why?  Why I hate them?  I'll 
tell you.  I'll tell you it all.  They judge us.  Every day.  Who gives 
them the right?  The right to decide who deserves miracles.  And who 
doesn't!  Who gives them the right?!!"

The writer scribbled that down onto his notebook and re-read it.  Yes. 
Who gives them the right.

"They're so cute and adorable.  That's what the fools think.  They worm 
into our hearts.  And they grow -- devouring everything.  Every part of 
us.  They want to enslave us.  To take all of our Precious Bodily 
Fluids!!!  That's their Ultimate Plan!!  Yes!!!"

"Umm.  Okay.  Think I've got enough for my..."

"I'll break free from this cage!  Someday!  And then I'll get them all! 
  Catch them all!  And take them back to my Holiday Miracle Pet Pound 
and -- Muhahahhahahaahha!!!!" screamed the Miracle Pet Catcher as he 
laughed and laughed not realizing that interview was over.

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

The writer, whose name was Will Winters, was sitting in a cafe looking 
over his notes.

"So what's your story, hon?" said a waitress in her mid thirties holding 
a half filled pot of coffee.

Will looked up at her.  You want to know my story?  How I used to be a 
reporter for Mid.Net Star till I got downsized out of my job?  How this 
wedding ring that I'm still wearing used to mean that I was married to 
the love of my life till she divorced me and took my house and 
everything?  How my daughter -- my daughter.  My sweet daughter.

Will closed his eyes and then opened them back up.

Finally he said, "Just a man in search of an apple pie."  He smiled at her.

The waitress winked at him.  "Coming right up, hon."

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

Will Winters was back in his hotel room.  He was in the border city of 
Espayola, Net.Mexico.  Supposedly last year around this time at a 'Guns, 
Diapers, and Eggs.Mart' two Holiday Miracle Pets, along with a number of 
FBI and CIA agents had battled each other there.  He had come here to 
check it out, and maybe interview one of the local cops who had been on 
the scene.  At least that was the plan.

He looked at his laptop.  Why was he writing this stupid book?  Didn't 
the world already have enough books about the Holiday Miracle Pets? 
Every housewife and their uncle had written one by now.  He walked over 
a suitcase he had on his bed and opened it up.  It was full of books. 
Full of stupid Miracle Pet Books.  There was 'Getting Rich the Miracle 
Pet Way!'  'The Cauliflower Method for Tighter Abs!'  'Did Cauliflower 
kill JFK?'  'Men are Eggplants, Women are Radishes!'  And bunch of other 
wastes of trees.  But in not one of these was the answer.  No one could 
tell him why.

He took a dvd out from his suitcase and slipped it into his laptop.  A 
few minutes later, an interview appeared.  It was Misty Summers on 
Oprah.  2005.  A year after Cauliflower the Miracle Pooch had died.  He 
started to watch it and then he clicked it off.  He couldn't watch it. 
Maybe later.  Maybe tomorrow.

He sat on his bed and took his shoes off.  He grabbed the hotel's remote 
and turned the TV on.  Need to forget.  Forget the world.  It was the 
news.  No.  He didn't want to watch the news.  He had heard enough about 
the crap economy.  About how everyone was losing their jobs.  About the 
Growing Job Blackhole that Hex Luthor had created that no one could 
stop, not even Barack "Ultimate Savior" Obama.

He clicked to a few more channels.  He stopped at one that had girls in 
bikinis chainsawing dinosaur ice sculptures.  This was more like it.  He 
walked over to his fridge and took out a can of Mr. Paprika.  He went 
over to his suitcase a dug out a bottle of vodka.  He unwrapped the 
plastic wrap on one of those plastic Hotel cups, grabbed some ice out of 
the ice bucket and poured the two drinks together in the glass.

He looked back at the TV.  No more girls in bikinis.  Just a stupid 
commercial.  He reached for the remote, but hesitated.

<<It's coming!!  Egg-Ageddon is almost here!!  The Egg Hunt to end all 
Egg Hunts!!  The Easter Cruise to end all Easter Cruises!!  Yes, Kids!! 
  Gets your Parents!!  Because you don't want to miss this!!  Everyone 
will be there!!  Hip Rocking Bands -- The Peep Junkies!!  Cadbury Egg 
Suicide!!  The Eggles!!  And that's not all!!  The Easter Bunny!!  The 
Easter Chicken!!  The Easter Duck!!  The Easter Llama!!  Jesus "Egg" 
Christ!!  Borscht, the Passover Miracle Wombat!!  Kathy Lee Gifford!!! 
Mel Gibson!!  Charo!!!  And for the First Time Ever -- Eggplant the 
Easter Miracle Komodo Dragon!!!  Yes!!  I'm not Egging with you!! 
Eggplant the Easter Miracle Komodo Dragon!!!>>

<<It's going to be Egg-Credible!!  Egg-Mazing!!  SpEgg-tackluar!!  It 
will make you Egg your pants!!  So tell your parents!!  Tell them that 
we've got a 24 hour bar and casino!!  Non-stop drinking and gambling!! 
They don't want to miss the cruise!!  You don't want to miss this 
cruise!!  Because if you do, you'll always feel bitter about it.  Yes. 
Bitter till the end of your life!!  So don't miss it!!!!!>>

Will clicked the TV off.  He was going on that cruise.  He had to.

Maybe it would all finally make sense.

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

Will looked over the edge of the rails.  At the swaying salt water. 
Suddenly, he could hear a commotion coming.  A mob of people were 
walking by.  He saw people snapping photos at someone.  There were men 
in black suits wearing black sunglasses and there were escorting someone 
or something.  It was lizard.  A big lizard wearing an Easter bonnet! 
It had to be Eggplant!  This was his chance!

He rushed over to the entourage and pulled out an old press card he had 
and began to wave it.  "Hey!  Eggplant!  Could I get an interview!? 
Could I...?"  The entourage stopped and one of the black suited men, a 
rather large towering figure walked over and grabbed the press card from 
Will's hand.

The black suited man looked at the card and snorted.  "Pressarazzi, huh? 
  Mr. Eggplant doesn't answer questions!  Now back off, buddy!"  He 
pulled his gun out and pointed at Will.  "You understand?"

Will nodded and backed away.

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

This had been a waste of money.  Will looked at the scotch he was 
drinking.  The band Cadbury Egg Suicide was playing (or mangling) Frank 
Zappa's 'Watermelon in Easter Hay'.  Why did he go on this stupid 
cruise?  There was no way he was going to get that interview with 
Eggplant.  And the other Holiday Miracle Pet that was supposed to be on 
this cruise?  What was his name?  Borscht, the Passover Miracle Wombat? 
  Turned out he wasn't even on the boat.  Supposedly, he was in some 
rehab clinic in Tucson.

He had spent everything he had on this cruise.  God.  Nothing to do now, 
but drink.  He looked around the bar.  Just aging Baby Boomers all 
looking bored out of their skulls.  This was nothing like an episode of 
the Love Boat.  Wasn't Charo supposed to be here?  He hadn't seen her.

He gestured to the bartender for another drink.  As he did that, a huge 
bang rocked the bar.  What was that?  A bomb?  Terrorists?  More bangs 
followed like giants were pounding on the roof.  What was going on? 
People were starting to rush outside.  He could hear screams.  He 
decided to see what was happening.

As he walked out into the open, he could see objects flaring down from 
the sky.  It was a Meteor Shower.  Burning rocks in a rainbow of colors 
were raining down on there ship.  It was surreal.  He had never seen 
anything like this.  People were running around screaming.  Someone 
shouted, "The LNH Will Save Us!!" right before a chunk pulverized them.

Christ!  He had to get out of here!  He had to...

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

Will opened his eyes up.  It was day time.  Where was he?  He looked 
around and saw that he was on an inflatable raft with a number of other 
people.  And a big lizard wearing an Easter Bonnet.  How did he get 
here?  The Meteor Shower.  His head hurt.

A man in a labcoat was talking.  "Based on my readings of my GPS.thingee 
I'd say we're somewhere in the Hypothetical Situation Sea of the fabled 
Easter Island trapezoid (Like the Bermuda triangle -- only more 
trapezoidy).  It's a place where Hypothetical Situations become real. 
Looking at the supplies we have, I'd say we have enough supplies to make 
it to land for eleven people and a Komodo dragon."

"But wait," said another guy.  "There are twelve of us and a Komodo dragon!"

The scientist nodded.  "I know.  Sadly, one of us is going to have to 
get off the raft."

"Wait!  This is insane!" disagreed another person.  "Maybe you're wrong!"

"No, I'm afraid he isn't.  I'm a scientist too," another man said 
pointing to his labcoat.  "And my calculations are exactly like his." 
He showed everybody his calculator.  "One of us is going to have to get 
off the raft."

"What about the lizard?  He's not human!"  Eggplant gazed at the man who 
had spoke.  He just gazed and gazed.  Occasionally his lizard tongue 
would slither out.

Scientist #1 shook his head.  "It would be pointless.  Holiday Miracle 
Pets don't need to eat or drink.  The Power of Easter gives Eggplant all 
his nourishment.  Besides, he'd most likely just kill anyone who tried 
to push him off.  No.  It will have to be one of us."

"How about the Fat Guy then?  He's taking up too much space!" shouted 
someone else.

"No!  Please!  I've got a glandular problem!  I can't help it!" cried 
the Fat Guy.

"Stop this!" shouted an incredibly old man in a priest outfit.  He had a 
bit of a German accent.  "This is madness!  What we're talking about! 
We're talking about murdering someone!  Murder!  For the love of God! 
What we should be doing is praying to God!  Only God can save us! 
Deliver us from this!  We must pray!  All of us!"

"Okay," said Scientist #1.  "We can try that.  Everyone, let's all pray 
to God to teleport us to civilized land in the next minute."  And 
everyone prayed.  Scientist #1 looked at his watch.  The minute ran out 
and nothing had happened.  "Well, that didn't work.  Okay, let's go back 
to figuring out who we're going to throw overboard.  Ideas people?"

"I can't believe you people!  God does not work that way.  God is..."

"Look priest guy," said Scientist #1.  "We tried your whole pray to God 
idea.  It didn't work.  Let's move on."

"Well, I believe it is traditional in situations like these to have 
every man draw straws and..." Scientist #2 started to say.

"And women!  You will not deny us a chance to participate in this straw 
drawing!  Not in the 21st Century!" said a women who was obviously a 

"Oh, nice work, Gloria Steinem!" said a women who obviously wasn't a 
feminist in a sarcastic voice.

"Cuchi-Cuchi!" said Charo.

"Hey.  I've got an idea.  Oh by the way, the name is Pister Maprika 
(Used to be called Mr. Paprika, but had to change it because of this 
legal battle -- long story [See the Omaha Project - ed].)  Anyway, I 
happen to be a billionaire that has a ton of money.  Here's my idea.  I 
give each one of you people a million -- oh what the hell -- two million 
(except for the person who gets thrown overboard) and I secure my place 
on this raft without having to draw a straw.  Oh and an extra million if 
you allow me to sleep with your wife (or husband as the case may be). 
Sound good?"

"Why you lousy coward!  I'll kill you and anyone who accepts your 
offer!" said a very angry man who was obviously a socialist.

"Hey.  Whoah.  It was just an idea."  Pister Maprika held his hands up 
innocently.  "Let's not get hysterical.  'Kay?"

Will wished he had his notebook with him.  All of this was gold.  This 
was an amazing story that was happening here.  And he was in the middle 
of it.  Assuming he survived this, he could write his own ticket from 
here on out.  Everyone would want to read this.  He'd be...

He felt a tap on his shoulder.  "Hey."  It was the person next to him. 
"Assuming we survive this -- could I get an interview with you.  I'm a 
writer for the Net.Yorker -- and I'm doing this book on the Holiday 
Miracle Pets and I wanted..."

"Hey Jake!  Thought I recognized you," said the man on the other side of 
Will.  "It's me -- Mick!  Rolling Stain Magazine!  Remember?  Hey, I'm 
also doing a Miracle Pet Book!  Small world, huh?"

"No, boys!  There can only be one Miracle Pet Book!  The Charo Miracle 
Pet Book!"  Charo shook her Maracas.  "Cuchi-Cuchi!"

Oh, this was great.  Of course.  Everyone on this damn raft was writing 
a book about the Holiday Miracle Pets.  He should have known.  He should 
just volunteer to throw himself overboard and get it over with.  But no, 
he couldn't even do that much.

But if it was him that they decided to throw overboard, he would ask 
Eggplant the question -- the question he was afraid to ask.  He'd do 
that much before he died.

Scientist #1 turned his back to everyone and proceeded to mix the 
straws.  After awhile he returned, his fist filled with straws.  Some 
high.  Some low.  "We'll go around clockwise.  Each pick a straw.  The 
one who gets the short straw -- well you know."  He looked at the water. 
  "You'll have to get off the raft.  Fat Guy.  You're first."

The Fat Guy hesitated.  Sweat poured down his neck.  Finally, he grabbed 
one of the closest ones.  It was long.  "Oh thank god!  Thank God!!" he 
said sighing with relief.

Scientist #2 was next.  He punched his calculator a few times and 
studied the number.  He held his breath.  He picked one of the middle 
straws.  It was long.  He breathed again.

"Ok.  Priest.  You're up.  Pick a Straw.  Any straw."  Scientist #1 held 
the straws near the Priest.

"No.  I refuse to do this.  This is monstrous -- what we're doing here! 
  People, think about this!  What we're doing here!  We can't do this! 
We can't kill another human!  It won't be worth it.  This will haunt you 
for the rest of your lives.  Please!  Just think about this!  That's all 
I ask!  Think about this!  We're human beings!  We're not animals! 
We're better than this!  God help us, we are.  Please!  Please," pleaded 
the Priest.

"We already decided, Priest.  It's one of us or all of us.  Pick a 
straw.  Pick a straw."

"No.  I won't do it!  I won't!  I..." but before the Priest could finish 
his sentence Eggplant the Easter Miracle Komodo Dragon leaped from his 
part of the raft and lunged at the Priest.  Eggplants jaws grabbed 
savagely at the Priest's throat.  Blood spurted all over the raft. 
After a few minutes Eggplant let go.  The Priest's head limped down.

"Oh god!  He killed that poor old man!  He killed him!" said Feminist 
Woman as her hand covered her mouth.

"No, wait!  I know that face!  The Priest's face!" said Scientist #2 as 
he took a black marker out of one of his pockets.  Scientist #2 went 
over to the dead Priest's head and using the marker gave the Priest a 
Hitler mustache.  "Yes!  I was right!  It's him!"  He then took out a 
photo from another pocket and showed it to the people on the raft. 
"This is a photo I have of what Adolph Hitler might look like if he had 
lived to be 119 years old.  See?  It's him!  Just without the mustache!"

Feminist Woman looked at the photo.  "Well, I'll be -- that is Hitler. 
Wow.  Eggplant killed Hitler.  He saved us from Hitler."

"That bastard Hitler -- he's finally dead!" said Angry Socialist Guy. 
"Three cheers for Eggplant!  Hip-hip hurray!  Hip-hip Hurray!  Hip-hip 

And everyone cheered for Eggplant.  Hitler had finally received justice 
for all of the horrible crimes he had committed.

"Wait!" Charo hollered.  "We should destroy Hitler's brain.  So no one 
can put it into a robot or super powered gorilla.  Cuchi-Cuchi!"

"Good idea, Charo," said Scientist #1 who used his pocket knife to carve 
into Hitler's skull so he could once and for all destroy Hitler's brain.

A week later, a plane spotted the raft and everyone was saved.  Except 
for Hitler.  Who was dead.  Finally.  Dead!  And his brain destroyed. 

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO

And that's my story.

I did get a book deal and $50,000 advance.  Not much.  You'd think the 
story of Hitler's last cruise would pay a lot more.  But then I'm not 
Charo who got a $20 million deal for her version.  Oh well.  It will 
help pay my credit card bills.

Some people will call what happened a miracle.  If it was one, then it 
was a bit too late.

I never got to ask Eggplant my question.  Don't know if he would or 
could have answered it.  Probably not.

You want to know what my question was?  I had a daughter.  Clara.  Clara 
Winters.  My daughter had cancer.  And she was at the same hospital that 
Misty Summers was at.  The Misty Summers who Cauliflower the Christmas 
Miracle Pooch saved.  That one.  Why her?  Why not my daughter?  Why did 
my daughter have to...

That's my question.  And maybe it's a stupid human question.  A selfish 
question.  Why?

Who gives them the right?  The right to decide.  Which of us deserve 

I guess getting a $20 million book deal wouldn't change much.  It 
wouldn't answer that question.  It wouldn't make sense of everything.

I guess some people are lucky and some aren't.  Some girls get to grow 
up and some...

I don't know if I'll ever get that book I'm writing finished.  I don't know.

Getting rescued was like a flash of light.  But the light's over.  I 
don't know if there's ever going to be another light.  Maybe the tunnel 
will just keep getting darker and darker.

But hey.  Guess it could always be worse.

I mean at least I'm not Adolph Hitler.

That would suck.

The End.

                  OOooOO   OOooOO   OOooOO


Borscht, the Passover Miracle Wombat -- Rob Rogers
The rest mine... (except Adolph Hitler and Charo)

Writer's notes:

Links to the rest of the series:

That's it for Eggplant.  4 issues just like Cauliflower.

If you want to see more Miracle Pet stories, you'll probably have to 
write them yourselves.

Arthur "Miracled Out" Spitzer

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