Anniversary Email 55

Congratulations on your two years at <COMPANY>, <NAME>! I know you wouldn’t want to read anything about monstrous creatures devouring human flesh or all-consuming horror bubbling from the depths of the earth to shatter your sanity and leave you a gibbering shell, rending your own skin in an attempt to root out the evil it implanted inside your teeming mind. Nor would it be appropriate to ponder some dire alien menace descending from the sky and turning our world into an ash choked ruin as they enslave the survivors and build vile totems from the dead. I mean, I am sort of at a loss here. This is a real puzzle.

The good news is we have recently discovered we completely mistranslated that whole Cthulhu thing. It is actually Cathulhu. Rather than some tentacled abomination from the depths of the ocean, Cathulhu is a fuzzy kitten who will rise up from inside a gigantic cardboard box. A huge, three story kitten.

Have you ever seen a cat with a mouse? They will often torture them. Letting them think they have a hope of escape, then pouncing and biting. Repeating until the tiny creature can no longer carry on. Stabbing the mouse with its claws. Imagine then, how Cathulhu will react on being surrounded by scores of humanity. Tiny prey as far as its keen eyes can see.

Our only hope lies in constructing an enormous ball of yarn. A ball attached to a rocket that we will fire at the sun. We hope Cathulhu will give chase, and spare us all the indignity of being torn apart by furry cuteness. Not me, however. I’ll be long dead before that point from a severe allergic reaction to Cathulhu’s eldritch dander, a weaponized variant of his more conventional kin.

Scorpion Chronicles 37

Scorpion, do you like the accommodations I have prepared for you? I must admit, you are the first of your kind I’ve seen since I prepared my home for you. Given how you spasmed and twitched before I ever gifted you with my ministrations, I assume they had the desired effect. Welcome. Welcome to your doom. Writ large across the cinder block fence. Sprayed and pumped until the very earth has turned against you. The soil itself rejects your presence here. There is nothing for you but painful death. So welcome. Welcome one and all. I will grind you under my heel and feast on your lamentations.