Just a dream, just an ordinary dream.
The funny thing about being me is that I focus on what really matters: life itself. Keeping my pack and myself alive. Or heard. Or warren, I'm never really sure. We're a weird mix; I'll try to explain it later. Right now I can't really stop to muddle over this-and-that, as I'm being chased by half-human half-crocodile hybrids, or reptile Erasers as they are known. Right now I'm their prey, and if I am caught . . . Right, not going to think about that right now! I run over and under fallen logs with teeth snapping at me all the way. Finally they corner me beside a sheer mountainside. They lick their chops at the thought of eating me. How unfortunate . . .for them. I feel my legs grow stronger and more rubbery underneath me, until with a bound I'm halfway up the mountain with Reptiles sneering at me, "Not today." I think as I bound away.
"COTTON!" rough hands pick me up from my bed and shake me awake. I guess we're out of chunky puffs, again. "What is it, Clip-clop?" clip-clop's the second oldest of us, and indeed the strongest. He's taller than me, with yellow skin, a buzz cut hairstyle and he almost always wears a green windbreaker. Though he usually smiles, now he looked scared, "The mouse-men of Sagittarius 9 have invaded, RUN!" not this again. Why did Jeb ever let him read comic books? "Let me have a look." I responded, replacing my nightcap with my usual sock hat, the one I used to hide my ears. But more on that later.
We live in the center of the Appalachians, as far away from the University as we can get. Sadly, that means we're constantly under invasion by woodland pests and vermin. Today we were treated to mice eating all our food. "Stupid rats!" Spiker shouted, swinging a broom at them. Spiker, as his name suggests, has three sharp-looking black hairs on his head and is another good friend of mine. He's by far the shortest of us as well as the boldest bold, but the greediest and us. "Spiker, that's now way to get rid of mice." I stepped past him and looked at the rodents at eye-level, "The best way to get rid of mice from a building is to ask them." I leaned down to them and chose my words carefully, "Umm, excuse me! May I speak to your leader, perhaps?" The mice stared at me, then out of a hole; they led a fat mouse with a scowl. "Wadda you want?" it squeaked at me impatiently.
"Well, it's just that, being leader of my own group, I know the hardships of taking lead of a sect of rodents."
"Yeah, so? What do you care?"
"Well, I happen to know of a place called The University in Peach creek that is brimming with food."
"The University, huh? Well, we'll check it out." It gave a squeak of orders to the other mice and led them away in procession. As you've already seen, I can converse with rodents, something I occasionally use to our advantage. Just one advantage of being a mutant.
"Nice job, Longears!" Spiker smiled as the mice scurried away. I only wish my work could be done soon.
"CLIP-CLOP!!!!!" Screeched a voice from up above. Sounds like Screech, Clip-clop's younger sister. I guess he's made yet another mess. Oh dear, "come along, Clip. Spike, would you be so kind as to clean up this mess before I return?"
"Yeah, whatever." He mumbled, tossing out spoiled bread and cereal.
Just as I suspected. Every inch of the bathroom was covered in Gravy, the bathtub brimmed with it, and a cooked chicken floated in it like a tasty rubber duck. Screech snarled when Clip-clip entered the room "Clip-clop, clean up this mess or your dogmeat!" See why we call her Screech? "Screech, please calm down. We'll have this bathroom will be clean before breakfast."
"It better be!" she snorted, stomping down the stairs and giving Spiker a hard time about the kitchen. "Now Clip, what have we learned about the bathroom?" he thought awhile, he never was good at word problems. "Gravy and bathrooms don't mix?"
"Yes! Now, why don't we clean this room up?" he followed this thought by ripping the bathtub out of it's bolts and dumping the gravy out of our window onto our flower garden, which was followed by a girly shriek. "Oops." Clip-clop and I leaned out the window to see a small boy, with usually fluffy hair (Now limp from gravy) shivering under a coating of animal drippings. "Sorry fluffy!" I timidly called, filling a bucket with warm water, soap and a rag, "While I hose off Fluffy, would you mind cleaning this room."
"I can to this-that Cotton," he answered, wiping a coated mirror with an already gravy-soaked rag. Perhaps I place too much faith in him. Oh well, on to Fluffy.
"I really must apologize Fluffy, this really isn't my day."
"Oh, don't worry your silly head over it!" he wiped the last of the gravy off his pants and continued watering (Along with washing) the begonias he planted about a month ago, "You do so much around here already, you shouldn't overwork yourself."
"Ringo-the-wood-boy, have you yet again gotten caught in Barqs apple tree?" I heard from not far away, where Barqs keeps his farming area. Barqs tries to grow all our food, but without chunky puffs and Jawbreakers this place would fall into chaos. "I'm afraid the universe won't give me that chance." I replied, running to the apple grove, "Breakfast might be a tad late, my apologies."
"Good luck with Ringo, Cotton!"
Barqs was already standing beside the tree, tugging on Ringo's ankles with a rope while his pigs and goats chewed on the ends of it. "Climbing trees again, Ringo?" if there's one thing he loves, it's exploring nature. But whenever there's a tree to climb, his large head gets stuck in it. "I can't help it if plank dared me to!" he smiled, pulling on the branches; Plank's Ringo's trusty wooden friend, whom he can "Talk" to. "Stop laughing at me plank!" she begged the drawn-on board near his feet. I sighed and climbed into the tree, "Barq, get ready to catch him." I carefully grabbed the branches around Ringo's head and pulled them apart. He fell onto Barq, who cursed in his "Native" Language. "Sorry guys. That's the last time I take on one of your crazy dares Plank, you hear me?" Spiker wants me to get rid of Plank, but so far he's caused no harm. Unlike Charger.
"Out of the way, Dorkton! He shouted, squishing me on his bike. Charger was riding his bike off a ramp he set up years ago to impress Rouge, Our loveliest member. Charger had a fascination for both bikes and that girl, but at this rate I'm not sure which he preferred more. But I knew one thing he loved more than both: Power, specifically my influence as a leader. "Charger, I don't mind you riding your bike, but I'd prefer it if you wouldn't crush me with them."
"Man, do you guys hear this dork? 'I don't mind'ing and "I'd perfer'ing. If I was leader, I'd kick your butt just for sitting on it!" the others fake-laughed, Charger was a bit of a bully around here. And thus you get a clear picture of our odd family: Me (The brilliant yet polite leader) Clip-clop (Our loveably foolish workhorse) Spiker (Our hot-headed schemer) Screech (little girl with a big chip on her shoulder) Fluffy (A light-hearted boy who'd rather be a girl.) Barqs (Our bizarre farmer.) Ringo (our nature-loving friend with Delusional companion syndrome)
Charger (Group Quarterback and bully) And Rouge (An angel in disguise.) she made her way to the bike and un-wedged me from my place under two thin wheels, "Sorry about that dude. What's the plan for breakfast?"
"Yeah, those dumb rats ate all our food, Dork-rah. Fix it!" Barqs entered then "Barqs will provide us with the traditional meal of his homeland" Baked chicken giblets in mashed pig brains." Before anyone threw up, I offered a better solution, "No need to devil into our animal rations Barqs, me and Spiker will be on our way to town for breakfast shortly."
"Hey, why me?" Spiker shouted, pulling a bag of trash from the house.
"Oh well, your loss, I'll just take Clip-clop with me and reward him with a jawbreaker." His eyes darted to me before running back inside, "Be out in a second!" he promised, throwing his shoes on.
Our life is a simple one: We we're raised for two years by Jeb, a good scientist from the University. After that he left on some "Important Business." And never came back. Whether he died or just left us, we were left to coexist with one-another on our own. No parents, no school (but all the books and internet at our disposal) and no more experimentation. We were free. The only people outside of our family we ever talked to were the occasional shopkeeper to buy the sugary part of a balanced breakfast. "That'll be fifty-five dollars and fifty cents." The young attendant took the small bit of money Jeb left us, at least what was left of it, I din't plan on telling the others any time soon. Before we were outside Spiker had his Jawbreaker in his mouth and was slobbering over the huge lump of candy, "I tell ya Double T, this is livin'!"
"In the shadow of a convenient store that hardly knows of our existence?" I mused, smiling as we wandered home without looking where we were going, "I suppose it's better than being stuck at the University."
"Too bad." Said a gritty yet familiar voice in front of us. We looked up, already planning on running. We knew the three girls in front of us well; we grew up together in that awful place, mistreated and experimented on like lab rats. We saw with our own eyes their terrible transformation into Human-crocodile monsters that would swallow us whole if given half a chance. "Hello again handsome." The girls cooed to us. "Kankers." We mumbled, as the five of us changed into our respective forms.