Explaining Cthulhu to Grandma and Other Stories

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Explaining Cthulhu to Grandma and Other Stories Page 38

by Alex Shvartsman


  IN A SINGLE TAKE

  “This is your death scene,” said Nicola, the director of the straight-to-DVD film The Queen of England and the Zombie Ninjas from Mars. “We’re losing the light. Let’s try and get this done in a single take.”

  “Sweet makeup job, man.” Misha studied the Elopus. He was used to TV budget rubber-mask monsters, but the beastie in front of him looked almost realistic—way scarier than the other props he’d seen on this set.

  The cameras rolled. Tentacles snaked toward Misha, wrapped around his neck, and squeezed. They didn’t feel like rubber at all.

  Misha screamed.

  NUMBER ONE FAN

  “He’s so dreamy.” The Queen of England caressed the signed headshot of Misha Collins.

  “It’s unseemly for Her Majesty to meet this… thespian,” said an adviser.

  “They’ll be filming The Elopus in London soon,” said Emily, the Queen’s personal assistant. “I have a plan.”

  A few weeks later, after the London scenes were a wrap, Misha told the director, “Great casting job. That British actress you had me work with seemed inexperienced and a little flustered, but boy was she a dead ringer for the Queen.”

  WISH, FULFILLED

  “You don’t look like a jin,” said Tina.

  “I’m Misha the Elopus,” said the elephant/octopus thing that materialized after Tina had opened the bottle. “Did you expect a blue clown that sounds like Robin Williams? I hate stereotypes.”

  “Sorry,” said Tina, flustered.

  “You probably think there are three wishes, eh? There’s only one. State it clearly. After a thousand years living inside the bottle, my hearing isn’t what it once was,” said Misha.

  Tina summoned her courage. “I want to be queen. Queen of England!” she blurted out.

  Misha grinned. “Done.”

  Tina found herself on stage, in a man’s body, holding a microphone. The audience roared.

  The band behind her began to play “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

  DEAD BUT DREAMING

  As the bus slowly rolled down the streets of Providence, Misha the tour guide pointed out an old pub. The weather-beaten awning read The Queen of England. “Lovecraft spent many an evening here, crafting his mythos.”

  “I heard his original concept for Cthulhu was a half-elephant half-octopus creature,” said one of the tourists.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Misha. “H.P. Lovecraft was the master of the macabre. He wouldn’t have entertained such a silly concept.”

  The tour moved on.

  Deep underneath the cold waters of the Atlantic, an Elopus snored and shifted slightly in its sleep.

  THE PROPER INGREDIENTS

  “The séance requires four elements,” said Misha. He looked in turn at each of the people holding hands around the candle-lit table. “Carefully balanced, they shall help us summon the ghost of Victoria, the greatest Queen of England in history.”

  He placed some dirt onto the table. “Earth.”

  “Fire.” A lit match landed next to the dirt.

  “Water.” Misha poured a few ounces from a plastic bottle.

  “Air.” He blew out the match.

  A ghostly elephant with tentacles appeared above the table.

  “An Elopus? But where’s the Queen?” asked Camille.

  “Curses!” Misha eyed the empty bottle. “Whose bright idea was it to use the Miskatonic Spring water?”

  MONKEYS AND TYPEWRITERS

  “I’ve got this,” the scientist brushed chalk from his fingers and pointed at the blackboard. “This is how many monkeys hitting random keys on a typewriter it would take to generate every possible permutation of the Misha and the Queen of England story before the heat death of the universe.” He stepped back and pondered the very large number. “Of course, this is purely theoretical. There aren’t this many monkeys in the world. Or typewriters.”

  Somewhere in the cosmos, one among the infinite number of Elopuses typed “The End” and loaded a blank sheet of paper into his typewriter.

  KITCHEN NIGHTMARES

  “This is a dish fit for the Queen of England.” Misha bounced around the stoves and prep tables of his four-star kitchen like a pinball. “A lightly seared tentacle of Elopus with pomegranate reduction, served over wild rice.” He licked his lips. “My masterpiece.”

  “Yes, chef,” said Tony.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Plate and serve it.” Misha breathed in the scent of the dish and moved on to the next stove.

  “Yes, chef” said Tony and proceeded to garnish the dish.

  When the waiter returned, he whispered into Misha’s ear. The chef looked like he just ate a lemon.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Tony. “Didn’t they like it?”

  Misha winced. “They asked for ketchup.”

  COSPLAY

  Jenny walked over to the group of cosplayers at ComiCon. “Great costumes, guys. What are you supposed to be? Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess.”

  She studied the woman in a fancy dress and a tiara. “A Queen of England?”

  The woman chuckled. “I’m Snow White.”

  Undeterred, Jenny checked out the next costume. “Are you that guy from Supernatural? Whats-his-name?”

  He nodded. “Castiel.”

  “And what are you? I give up.” The third cosplayer was wearing an elephant mask and had a dozen rubber tentacles attached to his belt.

  “An Elopus. It’s a thing,” the voice said defensively from behind the mask.

  “Only at ComiCon.” Jenny shook her head and went to check out the stormtroopers.

  Misha Collins smiled contentedly. It was working! Bryan Cranston wasn’t the only actor who could get away with cosplaying as himself.

  MISHAMORPHOSIS

  When Misha Collins woke up one day from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed. His nose became gray, elongated, and soft, extending over a foot from his face, like that of Pinocchio. A handful of tentacles protruded from his torso where his legs used to be.

  Misha fumbled for the phone and dialed 911. “Help! I’m turning into an Elopus!”

  When an ambulance delivered him to the ER and the doctor had examined him, Misha asked, “Doc, are you going to be able to help me?”

  “Sure thing, son,” said the doctor. He then turned to the orderlies. “Take this man to the Psych wing. There’s an empty padded room there for him, between Napoleon and the Queen of England.”

  THE BAR GAG

  “Stop me if you heard this one before. Misha Collins, an Elopus and the Queen of England walk into a bar…”

  “Come on, Shvartsman. You can do better than that. Let me guess, it’s some kind of a Vodka Collins gag.”

  “No, that’s not it at all.”

  “Oh, so the bartender will say to the Elopus that he doesn’t see many monsters ordering drinks, and the Elopus will say ‘Not at these prices, you don’t’. Or they walk into an actual steel bar? Something lame like that?”

  “No.”

  “OK, fine. What is it?”

  “I was going to say, walking into the bar is the reason why they crossed the road.”

  “Shvartsman, you’re the worst.”

  And thus, having written myself as a character into one of my own stories, I bring this collection and the story notes to an end with the sincerest hope that, as you close this book, you won’t necessarily agree with the final line of the above story.

  Even as this collection is being put together I’m writing and publishing more stories, editing anthologies, and working on novels. If you’re interested in learning more about my work, please visit my blog at www.alexshvartsman.com.

  Table of Contents

  Introduction by Ken Liu

  EXPLAINING CTHULHU TO GRANDMA

  THE RUMINATION ON WHAT ISN’T

  DOUBT

  SPIDERSONG

  THINGS WE LEAVE BEHIND

  THE EPISTOLARY HISTORY

  A SHARD GLOWS IN BROOKLYN
<
br />   REQUIEM FOR A DRUID

  NUCLEAR FAMILY

  BEDTIME STORY ON CHRISTMAS EVE, 1,000,000 AD

  SEVEN CONVERSATIONS IN LOCKED ROOMS

  HIGH-TECH FAIRIES AND THE PANDORA PERPLEXITY

  THE KEEPSAKE BOX

  THE FIELD TRIP

  SUPERIOR FIREPOWER

  LIFE AT THE LAKE’S SHORE

  THE TAKE

  THE DRAGON SHIPS OF TYCHO

  A BRIEF RESPITE FROM ETERNITY

  A THOUSAND CUTS

  RAVAGES OF TIME

  PRICE OF ALLEGIANCE

  THE TELL-TALE EAR

  THE MIRACLE ON TAU PRIME

  THE TINKER BELL PROBLEM

  TRUE LOVE

  YOU BET

  THE FAR SIDE OF THE WILDERNESS

  WORLDBUILDING

  IN THE WAKE OF THE STORM

  PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

  DOMINOES FALLING

  NOTES ON THE GAME IN PROGRESS, PLAYED ALMOST TO A DRAW

  SMALL MAGICS

  ICARUS FALLS

  COFFEE IN END TIMES

  Co-written with Alvaro Zinos-Amaro

  THE HOURGLASS BRIGADE

  A ONE-SIDED ARGUMENT

  HOW EARTH NARROWLY ESCAPED AN INVASION FROM SPACE

  FATE AND OTHER VARIABLES

  About The Author

  Bonus Content Foreword

  THE SKEPTIC

  GOOD ADVICE

  IN SERVICE OF A GREATER CAUSE

  THE SGOVARI STRATAGEM

  A GNOMISH GIFT

  PEL’S CRUSADE

  A BETTER TOMORROW

  HUNGER

  A TEAR IN THE WEB

  THE TRAVELING FAIR

  THE LAST INCANTATION

  AN INDELIBLE FEAST

  THE STORYTELLER

  ONE THOUSAND AND FIRST

  MANNA FROM HEAVEN

  ON THE LAST AFTERNOON

  TIME AWAY

  THE GETAWAY

  THOSE WHO CAN’T DO

  NUMBER STATION

  HOW TO LOCATE AND CAPTURE TIME TRAVELERS: A MEMO

  CHILL

  TALES OF THE ELOPUS

  THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME

  THE MAD SCIENTIST’S PET PROJECT

  THE HOARDER

  RUNNING FOR THEIR LIVES

  IN A SINGLE TAKE

  NUMBER ONE FAN

  WISH, FULFILLED

  DEAD BUT DREAMING

  THE PROPER INGREDIENTS

  MONKEYS AND TYPEWRITERS

  KITCHEN NIGHTMARES

  COSPLAY

  MISHAMORPHOSIS

  THE BAR GAG

 

 

 


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