Page Long Stories #2: Cajun Crossbow

Prompts: Remorse, Cajun, Crossbow

I knew the moment my lips closed around the morsel of mystery meat that I had made a mistake. A big one.

“Sorry, boys – I seem to have fixed the wrong lunch today.”

The men standing in front of me were confused by that, the guns in their hands lowering a bit. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d make it work. I sent a quick curse up to whatever god had put me in this position, and swallowed the meat.

As the spicy gibbet slid down my throat, a wooden crossbow, reinforced with iron banding and loaded with a heavy bolt, popped into existence in front of me. I wouldn’t call myself the most graceful of combatants, but damn if I didn’t feel like a badass when I snagged the bow out of the air and dove to the side, firing bolt after bolt at the would-be thieves.

Or I would have, anyway, if it hadn’t slipped out of my hand before I could even fire. This just wasn’t my day, I guess.

I did dive to the side, though – had to. While it wasn’t everyday that you saw a medieval weapon materialize out of thin air, it wasn’t quite astonishing enough to keep those guns from firing for very long.

I landed behind a gigantic box of watermelons. All I had wanted to do today was pick up a box of Fruit Loops. Well, that’s not quite true. I had also been hoping to eat them. Can’t a man go to his local Albertson’s on the weekend and get some fruit loops? America really is in decline.

Watermelon flesh started to erupt from the box as the two man gang opened fire on me. I wasn’t sure how long a box of watermelons would stop bullets. I doubt that’s ever been tested.

I reached into my fanny pack – yes, yes, fanny pack, I know, shut up – and yanked out a baggy filled with more chunks of meat. I carry a supply with me at all times, ever since I discovered the peculiar effect they have when I eat them. It’s not beef, or pork, or any other meat that I can identify. All I know is I found it in the freezer at the house I’m renting and when I eat it, weird stuff starts happening.

Case in point – I pulled another Cajun kibble out of the bag and popped it in my mouth. Cajun. How had I ended up with cajun? I needed to stop preparing this stuff drunk. At least it wasn’t Thai – now that would have been a disaster. As useless as a crossbow was, a sword would have been even worse.

I swallowed the second bit of meat and a crossbow appeared in front of me again. I took more care in grabbing it this time, took a deep breath, and prepared to face the blizzard of watermelon and bullets.

Hopefully tomorrow would go better. Maybe I’d try out steak sauce.