Fish Ed

I woke up unconscious.  My aching head smelled funny.  There was something sticky between my cheek and the cold shelf in the refrigerator.  “Eat me!” demanded the chicken, “I taste great! Why…I taste like chicken!  Everybody loves chicken.”  He was hard to take seriously without a head – his neck hole made him lisp.  “Eat ME!!” he yelled again.

But the egg was just as bold: “NO!  Eat me!” and raising his eyebrows suggestively, with a sexy-baby voice, he said, “I’m young.  I’m soft.  You can do ANYTHING to meeee…fry me, poach me, slather me in mayonnaise… Mmmmmm!  I’m delicious!”  He grinned.

“Don’t listen to HIM!” said Chicken.  “I’m delicious with mayo too…and you LOVE barbeque and I have…”

   “WHUMP!!!”

I slammed the fridge.  I could see that the jelly was already awake and I always hated talking to her.  Besides, the guacamole was poised, just waiting for his chance to interrupt and frankly, my aching brain could not handle whatever the leftover stromboli had to say – with his nauseating salami and jalapeño breath…..and what was that funny smell?  Was that fish?  I don’t like fish.  “Hey buddy,” said the fish, “that’s not a very nice thing to think.”

“WHUMP!!!”

 

Happy Valentines

I’m so very happy.  I know you are too.                                                     (Please don’t look at my dick.)                                                                                          I painted this face on my belly for you.                                                                (I said, don’t look at my dick.)                                                                                           I hope you will like it.  I very much do.                                                         (What is it with you and my dick?)                                                                                  I love you so much, I really love you.                                                        (Really?  Again?  Are you sick?)

***Best Valentines Day card ever…appropriate for every romantic condition.  Find all our greeting cards at our Etsy store (EEWbooks) or follow the links from www.sallemander.com.   -Marsha

My Robot Valentine

Jonny Bot 5 got horny and hot                                                                                 for a high fashion mannequin girl (who did NOT!).                              Classy and fine, Jonny loved her a lot,                                                              she turned up her nose…a high minded snot.                                                  He brought wild flow’rs by the bunch, by the pot,                                   tried candy, tried gems, read poems – what ROT!                                      But kindness in turn Jonny 5 never got,                                                           not an ounce, not a peck, not even a jot.                                                       Tried…..and tried ’till his brains were quite shot                                        until finally…Jonny went cold……and forgot.

***It’s only 2 weeks until the dreaded Valentines Day.  Here is the perfect greeting card for yet another disgusting commercialized holiday travesty.  Find all our cards on Etsy (EEWbooks), or follow the links to www.sallemander.com.   -Marsha   

Persistently Inedible

Persistently Inedible  (resisting the inevitable)

They came for me in the dead of night, grabbed me and forced a sack over my head.  I was taken to an undisclosed location, locked in a room with nothing but a table and chair.  A plate of food was set in front of me.  Weird.  They told me I could leave… but only if I finished everything on my plate.  I was not hungry.

I tried to reason with them.  I ranted and raged and pounded my fists in a heroic hissy fit., I even begged…but they ignored me and by then, hours later, I was getting hungry.

The plate of food was still sitting there but I didn’t recognize anything on it.  It must have been some kind of exotic vegetables.  It didn’t smell good.  I resisted.

A few hours later I was famished.  I took a closer look.  maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but just then, something twitched.  I squeemed with the heebie-jeebies…and looking again, I could swear it was breathing.  I thought I’d puke but had nothing to give…that’s when it all started to stir and writhe and become agitated.  It was REALLY weird (but I was sooooooo hungry now).

I grabbed a piece off the plate, wrestled it into my mouth and down my throat.  It resisted, kicking and screaming all the way down.  That’s when I puked…but as it limped away angrily, I caught it again and RE-ate it.  In fact, I managed to round up every single piece of those awful, jabbering bits of freakish vegetable…and I must say, it was the best meal I’d had in ages.  In fact, I was  looking and feeling much more like my old self again.  Man!  Best Thanksgiving EVER!!!  end.

***Another image and story slated to be published in our 4th book, “A Short Burst”…a collection of flash science fiction, illustrated.  Find our first 3 illustrated books at www.sallemander.com.

Little Red Button

Little Red Button

I regained consciousness choking on a thick, salty liquid pooling in my open mouth.  I sputtered and spat, gasping for air…..it wasn’t my blood.  I gagged.  My right hand hurt.

I was pinned under a dozen heavy corpses, amid heaps of dismembered limbs and chunks of steaming flesh, saturated in a rising sludge of dark, viscous fluid as it oozed from them.  It smelled of piss and sweat and…even I shat myself when the combat droids opened fire on our peaceful protest.  Memories were coming back, but I couldn’t recall why my right hand ached.

In a sobbing panic I pushed and wriggled and twisted free, but as I met the open air, I was horrified at the sight of a combat droid a few feet away.  I ducked back down for cover.  It was staring at me with a flame thrower aimed at my head…..it had smoke billowing from under it’s helmet…dead.  I rose up again to see the whole ragged line of them, frozen in place as they were, rolling over piles of the fallen, executing survivors.

Nothing moved now.  Everything was silent but the rush of intense flames and the sizzle and pop of meat and bones on the fringes of Union Square.  There were no lights, no cars, no subways rumbling…as if someone had detonated an electromagnetic pulse, frying everything electronic within it’s blast radius.  It was a strange thought to have at that moment, along with the nagging pain in my right hand.  Well, an E.M. pulse would have been too little too late considering the carnage surrounding me…tens of thousands lay dead.

I suddenly remembered that…we had won.  We had all the evidence and finally convinced their police

to stand down and stay out of the way.  Now there was a dead cop ten feet from me.  He had no head, but at least he finally looked human.

We brought no weapons, we had no desire to kill, or even to fight them, and we expected them – the rich and powerful – to pull something desperate as we marched downtown to arrest them.  But we had the numbers and a trick or two up our own sleeves…we had inside information on their worldwide data centers, where the core of their wealth was…and we had a pile of stolen government E.M. devices in position…

I lifted my throbbing right hand to find it clenched in a hard, painful fist.  When the military combat droids rolled out, surrounding us, I was terrified.  I froze.  And when they opened fire without warning,  bodies were ripped and shredded, throwing them backward in pieces, burying me alive, unconscious, but, wasn’t I the one holding the trigger?

I opened my searing right fist to find the radio detonator, my thumb still pressing the little red button on the end.  I didn’t realize…I never actually intended to…I bent and vomited.  Many more would die now, but as I looked around again, well…we were already doing that.  end.

***This is a new short story for an old illustration…soon to be published in our fourth book, “A Short Burst” a collection of flash science fiction – with illustrations.  With only a few exceptions, the illustrations were all previously published in Analog and Asimov’s sci-fi Magazines and used as writing prompts for new stories   Find our books at www.sallemander.com.   -Marsha

 

Monster Truck

Monster Truck-70Flippy the Clown drives a truck.                                                                      What a big ugly mean stupid fuck!?!                                                                        He tools around town                                                                                                     running poor people down                                                                                         ’till his tires are pasted with muck.

***This is a page from our “Creepy Clown Coloring Book.”  A fully rendered version was also published in our “Bludgeon the Clown” book, but you won’t ever see it (and it’s pretty fantastic) unless you get the book.  We post very little online, saving the best stuff for the books. You can find our 3 books (and buy them) on Etsy (search EEWbooks), just follow the link to our website above.  Thanks.  -Marsha

Foreheads

foreheads-62 

Mulberry Jelly sat on the edge of the stage covered in sticky egg juice and rotten vegetable pulp.  He couldn’t figure out what the crowd hated more, his cliché street-rapper name or the combination-spoken word/death metal version of “I’m a little tea pot” he was performing before the riot broke out.  One thing he knew for sure;  His brilliant career in show biz was over before it started…again.  The same thing happened last week when he tried a blues/ballet combo of “Freak” in front of the local Middle School Talent Show Fundraiser.  He refused to accept his Mom’s advice to study dentistry or go into his sticky Uncle Morty’s carpet cleaning business.  Who were they to call him a talentless hack?  No!  He would go on!  He would make Mulberry Jelly a household name and prove to the world… Aw hell!  Who was he kidding?  The only reason people showed up to these things was to gawk at him for the bizarre growth on his…..

 

***This artwork, which is only a red rough here, has been finished to a final render and is ready to be published in our “Body-Oddies” book…and it’s waaay cooler than what’s posted here, but you’ll probably never see it unless you get the book.  I really only post roughs and older work online (and only a small percentage of the pages of my books).  I save the best stuff for the books, so if you like the crap I let you see here, consider getting one of my books.  It IS how I make my living.  I have 3 books out so far and 2 more coming this year.  There are links above or you can find them on Etsy and Amazon (search EEW books)…’they make excellent gifts.’   -Marsha

Second Skin

second-skin-66 

Mick was always an awkward fellow. He tried to be a regular dude like everybody else but it never really felt right.  He did his best to dress normal, he had an average haircut, dated respectable girls…even got a boring middle management job in a large corporation, just as everybody expected, still, Mick was never quite comfortable.  He had the constant urge to break out of the box, jump up and sing, to run about, dancing with joy to be free.  He struggled with it every day…and sometimes he slipped;  He would catch himself about to smear his face with lipstick and crack lewd jokes – or smash his bosses face down into the banana cream pie he accidentally brought to work – or pull out the condiment bottles he had in his trouser pockets (for some strange reason) and paste everyone in the board room with goopy ketchup and mustard.  Worse, some days he would get all the way to work and realize he’d worn one striped sock and one plaid sock (weird).  And every day it just got harder and harder to fight the urge to shred his dull grey business suit, to peel off his own mundane skin and release the amazing, passionate (spectacular) monster that was trapped inside…..and one day, when he no longer had a reason not to…he did just that.

***The first post of 2019.  Scrape off all the crap and the crud and wash away the slime of last year so you can be clear headed and ready for the clusterfuck that’s coming.  The image above was adapted from an Analog Magazine spread John did in 2013…then used as the BIO page illustration in our 3rd book,”Bludgeon the Clown” for EEW Books.  Find our books at www.sallemander.com.   -Marsha

Winter Weather Advisory

thesanta-64It was June and sunny.  The first sunny day he’d seen in months.  Standing atop a 60 foot snow drift, Santa surveyed the landscape of Death Valley, Nevada. This was no way to spend his vacation.  Where were the buzzards and the fire ants?  Where were the salt flats and sand dunes?  This place looked too much like home this year…how awful!

Well, what did he expect?  This is where things like consumerism, waste, greed and stupidity get you – and he had to admit, he played his part.  Ever since they hired him to sell capitalism to the huddled masses, back in the 30’s and 40’s…..a snowpocalypse was inevitable.  Mother Nature swings like a sassy pendulum, knocking the idiots aside with the good ones.  Maybe the random survivors will come through smarter and better this time…but he doubted it.  Oh well, he still had to find sunscreen for Mrs. Clause or she’d have his head.

He got back into his sleigh and flew off in search of a frozen supermarket, hoping the looters left some Twinkies…or some milk duds…

THE SANTA: Arguably the greatest Christian icon in history, he is also the hardest fellow to meet.  When I flew to the North Pole for an interview I found nothing there but a giant peppermint flavored pole…and simply planning to intercept his holiday flight got me an angry visit from Homeland Security (again). Frankly, I couldn’t confirm he existed at all (I was crushed).  Yet somehow, he still manages to deliver the most fabulous gifts, each year, to the most affluent and entitled children in the world, (poor children are obviously “BAD”)…..maybe its just as well I didn’t meet this clown.  -Marsha

Merry Christmas

Twas quarter past Christmas.  We sat in despair.                                    The eviction notice was posted with care.                                                   No money for food, no money for rent,                                                       what little we saved for presents was spent.                                            Our jobs were in China, our taxes were due                                               and the kids would be up in an hour or two…

When what to my wondering eyes should appear                                  but a Holiday Clown with a menacing sneer.                                                He carried a hammer, already slick,                                                                with the juice of that jolly elitist, Saint Nick.                                             And he gave us a satchel of presents and cash                                        that was meant for a gaggle of rich little brats.                                        And he said with a laugh as he strode out of sight,                         “Merry Christmas to ALL…..and to all a good night!”

***This is the third in a set of 3 new snarky Christmas cards we posted at our EEWbooks Etsy store.  We usually sell these for $4.99 each, at the book fests and comic cons, but you can get the set 3 for $12.00.  Use the www.sallemander.com link above to our site and hit the Etsy link.  Buy lots of them for…..stuff.  Thanks.   -Marsha