Friday, January 6, 2012

Blow the House Down


The blast of Moons' sneeze shook the craftman house's ceiling until the cracks in the corners gave out and the godchild's windy spew whistled over the peeling paint and into the night. The roof settled, creating at least a temporary seal.

"For god's sake, Cassandra, get those windows open." Tybalt ran for the kitchen before Moons sneezed again. On the counter, take-out food containers towered like toy miniatures modeling a three-story housing development. Tybalt shoved them aside. The pills had to be here.

Moons wheezed swallowing an impossible amount of air. Tybalt slammed his hands against the latch on the window, but the pressure from the outside jammed the lock. He grabbed a pot and whacked at the latch, but it didn't work. The house creaked; Cassandra must've failed to open the other windows. With regret he looked at the pot and then at the window and shrugged. Glass tinkled when he threw the pot. Shards of glass shivered themselves into his coat, riding the wind vacuumed by Moons' lungs.

He needed those pills. He pulled the kitchen drawers and dumped them on the floor, watching for the manila yellow bottle.

"Honey, did you check the fridge?"

Tybalt knew the god pills didn't need refrigeration and therefore the refrigerator seemed like an awful bad place to keep them. But, he had looked everywhere else, and the pills had to be in the kitchen, so he opened the door, and there on the shelf right in front stood the pills.

He grabbed the bottle and ran into the other room twisting the childproof lock, but it stuck. It made no sense to use a childproof lock when the god-babies could get at the bills by twisting the bottle in half. Greedy big Pharma companies and their screwups just made his life difficult. It wouldn't be a surprise if Pharma had a personal vendetta against Tybalt.

Moons' wheeze continued, but it grew thin and the boy twitched like he did prior to expelling his sneeze.

"House won't last another sneeze."

"I know," snapped Tybalt. "Lid's jammed."

Cassandra ran to help. He stood, balancing on the cap, as she held the bottle and he tried to twirl, getting his weight and the twisting right. He fell forward and knocked down a lamp, which had amazingly managed to stay upright in the last sneeze.

"You got it." Cassandra grabbed a pill and ran to Moons' side. His mouth gaped open and she threw the pill in. He coughed and the pill ended up on the floor. He backslapped Cassandra and she flew through the air, hitting a bookcase. Books fell across the room.

"Pill itches."

"Moons, baby. You got to take the pill."

The limp FDA had waived the normal trials when big Pharma proved children were born immortal, were born gods, but only for a few moments before the immortality drained away. But their pill, promised to change all that. They argued that everyone should have the chance at godhood. They didn't have time for tests since all those kids would lose their opportunity. Stupid pills left allergic reactions.

"No pill. Liquid." Moons' face twisted as if he understood that he wasn't supposed to sneeze and was trying to keep it back.

"We don't have anymore."

Moons fist was still dappled like a baby's flesh, but it was bigger around then Tybalt's thigh. Moons grabbed him like a rattle and shook him in the air.

Cassandra must have recovered from her flight. She held a glass of water. "Moons, set your Pa down, now."

Tybalt wobbled. Cassandra grabbed the pill and ground it against the side of the glass. Tybalt prayed it would work.

Their godchild gargled. Tybalt relaxed when the nose stopped twitching.


  1. LOL So funny. I like this concept. A real godchild!

  2. Unlike anything else I've read this week, and quite a bit loonier than I anticipated from you. Nice experiment in the wild fantasies, Aidan!

  3. @Sonia, yes, a godchild who is going to only get worse as he gets older.

    @John, Thanks. Got the idea from Writing Excuses, so wouldn't be surprised if there aren't a lot of god pills running around out there somewhere. (Although, I am very behind on the podcasts.)

  4. Oh Aidan, this gave me a good laugh.

    A very unusual flash, done in your usual imaginative style.

  5. Oh I like it, a godchild to mere humans yes? least the pills work - love your imagination Aidan ^__^

  6. Those damn pharmaceutical companies!

  7. This one was pretty darn funny. I really got a kick out of the childproof lid.

  8. Wonderfully imaginative stuff here Aiden.. and brilliantly bonkers too.. If Charlie Sheen could write flash.. it would come out like

    Very creatve and very funny.. Thanks for cheering me up.

  9. Wow, what a concept! And a godchild in his Terrible Twos would be a… wait for it… holy terror.

    Pharma should be careful. One of those gods may decide that such Evil ought to be eradicated…

  10. Fun, clever story! Love this line: "Shards of glass shivered themselves into his coat, riding the wind vacuumed by Moons' lungs". :)

  11. I really like the family interplay surrounding the fantastical elements. Wife-Husband. Parents-Child. Excellently realised core idea too. =D