Showing posts with label pandemonium. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pandemonium. Show all posts

Saturday, June 30, 2012

"A Powerful and Moving Tale" by Tony Bryer




I don’t know what’s wrong with people who call a meeting for 4:00 on a Friday afternoon, but that’s exactly what Ross Fravell did. Furthermore, he gave us only a few hours notice, sending the meeting notice at 1:00 p.m. The meeting was to launch a new project, the KCX Telemetrix. Sounded like exciting stuff, huh? I mean, how much can one person yawn in the course of an hour? I didn’t know, either, but I was about to find out.

So now it’s four o’clock, right? And I saunter into the meeting room. Everybody’s already there. Great. There’s nowhere left to sit, either, except at the head of the table where everyone can stare at me. Wonderful. I plop my ass down into the chair and settle in for a long, looooong meeting. Long because it’s Friday afternoon and I want to get the hell out of there. It’s bad enough I have to work tomorrow, but having a four o’clock meeting is just rubbing salt into my raw wound.

I glanced around the table to see who all was there. There were test engineers, program managers, sourcing associates, line engineers, and even an agent from Corporate Travel who was probably in the wrong meeting, but she was pretty hot so no one minded at all. I was the sole quality representative so I steeled myself for a barrage of stupid questions and pined for the moment I could flee out the door to make a beeline to the nearest liquor store.

Ross cleared his throat. “Uh…” he said. A meeting that starts off with “uh” is bound to be a real corker, as my dad would say. “I’m sorry for the short notice,” Ross began.

“Yeah!” someone interjected. “You should be sorry for the time!”

Everyone laughed and Ross had the decency to turn red.

“I’m sorry for the short notice, and for the time,” Ross said and everyone laughed again.

I realized I was missing out on a corporate bonding moment and so I laughed, too. “HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW!” I guffawed. Everyone looked at me. The hot chick from Corporate Travel looked frightened. I smiled at her. She averted her eyes and fumbled at her Covey planner.

And that’s when I noticed I could see her booby. The second button of her blouse had come undone and so it was gapping open. I could see it all. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Her breast was long and pointed. The nipple was a dark plum color, as large and long as my thumb, thick and pendulous and dripping with a clear fluid. I licked my lips.

Ross cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said, “I just wanted to cover a few things before we go home.” I tuned him out. He probably wouldn’t need any input from me for another ten minutes or more. This gave me ample time to admire the travel chick’s booby and to play a few erotic fantasies in my head.

My Dockers were just starting to feel tight in the crotch when I realized everyone was laughing again. Not wanting to appear to have been daydreaming, I laughed too. “HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW!” I screamed. Ross jumped and the travel chick cringed.

One of the program managers was scandalized. “Tony…” he began, and that’s when my face exploded.

I felt these huge chitinous mandibles explode out of my jaw. It felt like a pair of arms depending from my chin. I could actually see them before me, two grasping pinching lobster-like mandibles snapping open and shut in front of me, ready to rend and tear and bite and chew. It felt wonderful. I remember thinking if sex could only be this good, I’d never get out of bed.

Ross fell out of his chair. The travel chick screamed. “Everybody stay calm,” I said. Or rather, that’s what I tried to say. What actually came out of my… my… Well, it wasn’t exactly a mouth. I don’t know what it was. It was a maw, I guess. There’s really no other way to describe it. So what actually came out of my maw was a thick buzzing sound, like a six-foot cicada on a drowsy August day.

Pandemonium erupted. You’ve all heard that phrase before. “Pandemonium erupted.” Until you’ve experienced it for yourself, you have no idea what pandemonium really is. Papers flew into the air. Chairs fell over. Bodies thumped to the carpet. People scrambled to get out of the room. I think someone farted. I stood from my chair. “Stop!” I shouted. Or rather, that’s what I tried to shout. Again, what came from my gaping maw was that thick buzzing sound.

Pandemonium continued to erupt. I’d had enough. I strode to the door and kicked it shut. “No one’s leaving here until I’m satisfied you can all keep a secret,” I said. Or rather, that’s what I tried to say. Fuck ‘em if they can’t understand me.

Ross cowered before me. “What are you going to do to us, Tony?” he asked, his hands clasped to his chest like a penitent begging shriving.

“I’m not going to do anything,” I tried to say and everyone screamed. The test engineer rushed me, a sourcing associate close behind. I stepped aside and a remarkable thing happened. My head snapped forward and my mandibles grabbed the engineer by his head. A quick jerk of my neck and the test engineer’s head crushed between my mandibles like a grape. My maw snapped open and the engineer’s brain disappeared down my throat with barely a gasp. The sensation was stupendous. Waves of pleasure washed over my body. My first orgasm was not even noteworthy compared to the cataclysm rocking the core of my being. I wanted more.

I snatched the sourcing associate by the neck and squeezed. A thick syrup washed down my throat. Goddamn, if ever anything better existed in Creation, a loving God kept it to Himself. The next few moments blended together in a frenzy of blurred color and waves of incredible pleasure wracking me to my toes.

When next I regained my senses, the room was empty. Not even a stray drop of blood had marred the expanse of sensibly colored carpet. My belly strained against my belt. My God, if I’d ever gorged myself more fully, I surely couldn’t remember it. I stifled a burp. The edges of my maw felt rough against the back of my hand. I grasped around my face. My mandibles were gone. Whatever forces had made them appear had subsequently made them disappear.

Ross’s laptop gaped open on the table. I sat at his chair and opened his e-mail account. Opening a new e-mail message, I typed, “Hey, everybody. Ross here. Seeing as how it’s Friday afternoon, I’m knocking off early. The meeting I had scheduled at 4:00 is postponed. Everybody have a great weekend, except Tony who has to work tomorrow! Ha ha, Ross.”

I clicked on “Send” and ran out of the room. I don’t know how this will play out. All I can do is thank God no one saw me running down the hall.


Tony Byrer drives a truck for a living. He lives in southern Indiana with his wife, three cats, and a dog. You can find him on facebook.