Swallow
Thater's Reign
By: The Sense of Swallow Writing Group
November - 1945
Highschool life was pretty simple for Dave. Get up, go to school, get good grades, go home, go to sleep, repeat. Everyday followed this basic formula. Dave didn't have many friends, he didn't really need any. He wanted to focus completely on his school work. However, this would all change the day he was greeted by the football team's captain.
His name was Mister Fister, or at least that's what everyone called him. He approached Dave, along with two others. There was Rodney, a guy who liked long hair and dirty jackets. The other was Dingo, a soft talker who was obsessed with smooth jazz and had a curly goatee. Dave was confused as to why this obscure group of students would want to talk with him.
"Dave Thater, right?" Fister said pointing at him. Dave pushed up his glasses and nodded his head. "I'm Mister Fister. That's Rodney Slemans and over there is Dingo Lester." They both gave a quick smile. "I have an offer that you may find interesting, come to the math room after lunch and we'll talk." The three turned and walked away without waiting for a response from Dave. He was intrigued. No one ever talked to him, so he figured this must be important.
After lunch, Dave headed to the math room. The three were sitting at desks near the front of the room. Across from them stood the math teacher, Professor Peters. He was an old man with big eyes and a cane, who was a veteran in World War I. Dave stood silently at the doorway.
"Mr. Thater, please join us," Peters said as he motioned him to come in. Dave slowly walked over to the desk next to Fister and sat down. "Now, Mr. Thater, allow me to get you up to speed. As I'm sure you know, drug trafficking has been at an all time high, here at Slammers Highschool. So these three students and I have founded an organization aimed at stopping this epidemic in our school. And we believe that your intelligence could be the key to finding the people who are supplying these drugs. So, Mr. Thater, would you be willing to aid us in this crusade?"
"I guess I could," Dave mumbled.
"Great!" Peters exclaimed, "From now on we will call ourselves the Sense of Fist! And our first suspect is a young man named Willy Restive."
July - 1982
Dave waited outside the Cuban warehouse. Guadeloupe was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago, and Dave's suit was getting sweaty. He decided to come to Cuba after hearing of Guadeloupe's rare hair product components. Using these in his products would definitely cause his business empire to grow. Suddenly, the door to the warehouse swung open. A bald, heavy Cuban man in a hawaiian shirt came waddling out.
"You must be Guadeloupe," Dave said, extending his arm. The man grabbed it and shook it fiercely.
"Yes, yes! And you must be Mr. Thater! Come, amigo, let me show you what it is we do here!" Dave picked up his briefcase and followed Guadeloupe into the warehouse, where he saw many unfamiliar substances being mixed. "All of these components will be great for hair treatment!" Guadeloupe said excitedly. "I am most certain we can make a deal today, amigo!" He reached into a crate behind him and pulled out a box of jars, each filled with different substances. "Amigo, what do you think about these?"
Dave examined each of the jars and smiled. He lifted his briefcase and opened it, revealing tons of money inside. "This do anything for you?" Dave smirked.
"Ha ha ha!" Guadeloupe laughed, "I think we have a deal my friend!" Suddenly, from behind some crates, three men, wearing black masks and armed with machine guns, open fired on Dave. He dropped to the ground and struggled to breathe. Guadeloupe walked up and took the briefcase. "Nice doing business with you, amigo!"
Dave slowly opened his eyes. He looked up and saw that his arms were chained to the ceiling, however he couldn't feel anything below his neck. The room he was in was fairly small with one window. Above the window was the answer to all of his questions, a Soviet flag. The door opened and Guadeloupe walked in with a duffle bag.
"How are you feeling, amigo?" he chuckled.
"C-commies…" Dave managed to cough out.
"What did you expect doing business in Cuba? Now it's about time I removed one more capitalist from this world." He opened the duffle bag and pulled out a chainsaw. Dave tried to move, but none of his limbs were functioning. Guadeloupe started the chainsaw and held it to Dave's neck. "For Castro!" The chainsaw was shoved into his neck and pulled out from the other side. Dave's head dropped and rolled onto the ground. Guadeloupe picked it up and brought it back into the warehouse. He walked over to one of the component's mixing chambers and dropped the head in. It slowly sank to the bottom. He laughed and left the warehouse.
Suddenly, Thater's eyes shot open. He could feel his arms and legs again. But how? He started to choke on the liquid he was submerged in and swam up to the top of the chamber. Slowly, grabbing the ledge, he pulled himself out. His arms were very small and were attached right below his ears. Where he was supposed to have a neck, he instead had two small legs as well. The substance had done something to him. It mutated him. Thater was now just a head with tiny arms and legs. He was enraged. Those communists did this. They turned him into this thing.
"I-I hate communists!" Thater managed to shout. "Those Cubans will pay for this! I will bring the Soviet reign to an end! I will establish complete capitalist control! Thater's reign!"