A/N: Hey! So this is my second story ever published here! It's based on the flash film, "Salad Fingers" on Youtube. It's really beautiful, and you should go check it out, BUT WARNING! It takes a special person to see the beauty of the cartoon because it contains disturbing images and stuff... so YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! I hope I did Salad fingers justice, someone else wrote an episode 10, and it was perfect, so I decided to do episode 11. Even though I think I made him seem a bit more civilized than he actually is and WAY less disturbing...XP I'm not really good a writting disturbing things...Even though I'm easily drawn to them...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Salad Fingers, David Firth does.
Now on to the story!
The air was crisp and dry. Wind howling fiercely outside. Salad Fingers lay inside cradling himself in a fetal position.
"Mustn't let the moans of coyotes get to me." He whispered to himself. "My dear brother wou-would be most ashamed by my foolery." With that he got up and looked for something to keep himself busy. The wind continued to howl fiercely outside. He shuddered, then looked over his shoulder to see a broken china cup with matching teapot, both extremely dirty and full of mold.
"Why, yes." He exclaimed happily. "Perhaps a spot of tea, shall help with my settlings." He walked over and sat down. "Why, I can't have teawithout tea. No, that won't do at all." He said while not finding any tea inside the cup, so he decided to look in the teapot. As he opened it, a large scaly, fat bug came crawling out.
"Why, little sister, have you come to join me at tea time?" He asked the bug as he reached out for it with his long, deformed finger. It quickly crawled away and hid inside the cup.
"Well rude today aren't we sister?" he said, most disappointed. "Well…" he sighed. "I guess I can't blame you. What's the point if there is no tea?" Not really knowing the reasons for his actions he picked up the cup and began to roughly stray his fingers all around it, covering them up with filth and mold in the process.
"At least we should, wash up." He said semi- consciously, staring of into the distance." Mother will be most unpleased, if we don't. I shant forget the time when she made us laundray the entire house because of that crumpity mistake." He swooned over the memory. "Maybe I shall do the same today, as soon as the moon silences the everlasting sea of howls." He exclaimed as he looked over to the window where the wind continued to howl, never seeming to stop. He frowned and looked on to nothing once more. "That is if could ever control all that whining it's doing." He said with disgust. But then his face dropped.
"I wonder if the Great War is bathed with this much restlessness." A pause. "But, at least they've got a nanny to cease the mourning." He said referring to the wind once more as it gave one last big howl before finally beginning to slowly die down.
Then his finger ran into the bug unknowingly, but continued to keep pushing it as if it were some other piece of muck. It tried to get away desperately but there was too much pressure upon the bug, and it slowly began to tear apart. Slowly all of its internal juices began pouring out, running all over the cup. As if it wasn't dirty already, not it was covered in a gooey, gelatin like liquid from the bug. Its empty dried up body began floating towards the top.
"Oh…" Salad fingers exclaimed with a bit of confusion at first, but when he saw the yellow green liquid fill the cup he became over joyed. Then as the dead bugs carcass began to float up, he said, "Oh sister! You've been s-so kind as to bring me some tea?" He didn't wait for the answer that would never come from the bug, and happily began to drink his "tea" dead bug carcass and all. When he was done, the liquid stained his shirt, and drenched his lips. He then began to lick them enthusiastically. He then gave out a satisfied sigh and got up.
"Now, let's see what became of that fussy coyote." He opened his front door and stepped outside. It was completely calm outside. The sun was beginning to set, and he could see the faintest outline of the moon beginning to show. He chuckled lightly. A smile playing on his face as he his deformed and now mold covered fingers reached for his mouth.
"Yo-you do know how to keep those nasty howlers in line, don't you?" he commented to the moon, as now the sun had completely set, and the moon's shining light bathed the ground, ensuring it was going to be a peaceful night.
"W-well, I mustn't dilly-dally, the frost will set in before I can close the pipes." He mumbled as he walked back inside and closed the door behind him.