Authors: Robert Paul Weston

Zorgamazoo (11 page)

BOOK: Zorgamazoo

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“I don't know,” Morty said. “It sounds hard to believe.
It's really too horrid to even conceive!
You say flesh-eating monsters? From up in the sky?
I won't be convinced. So don't even try.”

Katrina, however, was sure it was true.
She didn't know why, it was simplyâ¦she
knew
.
She had only to look into Winifred's eye,
to see it was real, that it wasn't a lie.

“But Morty,” she said, “Winnie's being sincere.
She witnessed it all! She was hiding right here.
And now a big part of the mystery's solved,
now that we know there are
monsters
involved!”

“Monsters?” said Morty, with a tremor of doubt
(he hated to think there were
monsters
about).
“Believe me, Katrina, and I have to insist,
creatures like that, they don't really exist.”

Winnie sucked in a breath. She held up a hand.
“Mr. Morty,” she stammered, “you don't understandâ”

Morty ignored her. He was shaking his head.
He folded his arms and dismissively said,
“I've seen all sorts of weirdness, since I was a kid,
but
never
a flying, carnivorous squid!”

Winnie covered her eyes. She grimaced and frowned.
“Uh, Morty,” she whimpered, “then
don't turn around.”
There followed a horrible, ominous
hum,
and a
clack
like a raspy, mechanical drum.

It was one of the creatures that Morty denied,
and so, as he turned, his eyes going wide,
he realized, too late, that the creatures were
real
,
and that he and his friendsâ¦would be their next meal!

And so, before Winnie or Morty could speak,
before even Katrina could utter a shriek,
all three were ensnared in those terrible claws,
and tossed in the creature's

Chapter 11

the
moonagerie
crypt

My goodness! It seems that our heroes are doomed!

Devoured! Digested! Completely consumed!

It's true. They were eaten (like pickles and pie).
But to call it “The End?” Well, no. That's a lieâ¦

Because Mortimer Yorgle, Katrina Katrell,
who were followed by whimpering Winnie, as well,
they indeed had gone slithering into the maw,
of that ugly monstrosity's slobbery jaw.

They went under its tongue and over its teeth.
They slid down its neck to the belly beneath.
The belly, however, was stiff as a stone,
as if all of its innards were nothing but bone.

“Hold on,” said Katrina, “this doesn't make sense.
This stomach has walls like the bars of a fence!
It's all iron and copper and rusty with age.
It's less of a belly, and more of a
cage!”

“Hmm,” Morty wondered, scratching his head.
“What I'd like to know is: Why aren't we dead?”

“You're right!” Winnie cried. “I mean, swallowed alive?!
It's not the sort of a thing you routinely survive.”

Before Morty could answer with any reply,
the mysterious creature leapt into the sky;
and wherever the creature was traveling to,
it was far, far away from Zorgamazoo.

There weren't any windows, so there wasn't a view.
They just flewâ¦

The trip wasn't pleasantâit was anything but,
as they thumped in the creature's inflexible gut.

They were shot through the air.
They were thrown in a flop,
with Winnie the bottom, Katrina the top,
and Mortimer awkwardly crumpled between
(he felt like a steak in a mincing machine).

From their heads to their heels,
they were queasily tossed,
as if weightlessness wonâ¦and gravity lost.

But at last, their momentum began to subside.
It seemed they had come to the end of the ride.

“Phew!” Winnie sighed. “Not a second too quick.
Another minute of that and I would've been sick.”

It was then something happened,
something no one would guess,
an occurrence I frankly find hard to express.
But nevertheless, it happened. It's true.
It was then that the creatureâ¦
divided in two
.

It began with a creak in the animal's back,
as the stomach came open by only a crack.

Then little by little, and bit after bit,
the crack opened wide and the innards were lit
with glimmers of eerie, mysterious light,
confirming Katrina's suspicion was right:

Inside of the beast there were pulleys and chains,
where there should have been organs
and muscles
and veins.
Or at least an intestine. Or maybe a spleen.
But noâ¦for the beast was, in fact, a machine!

Our heroes were trapped, like dogs in a pound,
in a cage hanging over the dust of the ground!

“It's a trick!” Morty muttered. “It's some kinda scam!
It's nothing but hokum and flimmery flam!”
A trick?
thought Katrina.
That's saying the least.
But why? Who would build such a hideous beast?

Before she could ponder the matter some more,
on the side of the creature, there opened a door.
It led to a cabin, where a pilot could ride.
But who,
thought Katrina,
would travel inside?
Who could build such a thing, in such odious style?
It must surely be someone incredibly vile!

But the man who came out wasn't wretched at all.
He looked rather normal, though a just a bit small.
There was little, it seemed, that made him stand out.
He wasn't too thin, and he wasn't too stout.

This miniature man was perfectly gray,
while his manner was blank, in a similar way.
His movements were slow, as if studied by rote.
He was lacking in anything worthy of note.

He seemed like a person, whom as soon as you'd met,
you would hardly remember and quickly forget;
a person who sadly is always ignored.
If you glanced at him once, you'd already be bored.

In his hands he was holding a silvery box,
with gauges resembling a series of clocks.
He swiveled a switch with the pad of his thumb
and the creature's machinery started to hum.

The cage was brought down on a hook and a chain,
controlled by a massive, mechanical crane.

Though Katrina was frightened, she tried to be brave.
She could see they were somewhere inside of a cave.
Looking down at the man, feeling helpless and trapped,
she grew very angry and suddenly snapped.

“Excuse me,” she said to the miniature man,
“could you answer a question? I'm assuming you can.
There's something, you see, that's a little unclear.
So perhaps you can tell usâ

WHY ARE WE HERE?!!!”

The man didn't answer. He was lost in a trance,
as if all he was doing was planned in advance.
He held up the box in his miniature fist.
He toggled the dials with a flick of his wrist.

The crane, with a creak, went winching to work.
It hefted the cage, with a jolt and a jerk.

It lowered them down to the depths of the cave,
like a coffin's descent, to the base of a graveâ¦
The walls were all craggy and chalky with dust,
sallow and furrowed with craters and crust.
They slowly continued their deathly descent,
and things became dimmer, the farther they went.

Then came a light. It was eerie and green.
It threw lingering shadows all over the scene.
And the scene, you may ask? It was bleak! It was black!
There were cages piled up into stack after stack,
in a room like a warehouse, endless with aisles,
with cages and cages that went on for miles!

They were piled all the way to the curve of the roof,
and if things were afoul, then here was the proof:
In every last one was a creature or beast,
there must have been
millions
(or hundreds, at least).

Katrina looked round, with alarm in her eyes.
There were
creatures
of every conceivable size!

Creatures
she'd never encountered before,
CREATURES from stories and legends and lore,
Creatures most people would likely reject.
“They're not real,” they would say, or so you'd expect.

But here they all were, looking hopeless and pale,
locked in some sort of a despicable jail.

There were yetis, packed in with the whiskery yecks,
so crowded and cramped, they had cricks in their necks.

BOOK: Zorgamazoo

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