The Jadedvisalian

Welcome to the new season of Stan Prolongo. Story written by Justin Lowmaster from The Space Turtle Blog. Voice of Stan Prolongo provided by DAVe Avila from The Jen and DAVe Show.

Soon after Stan’s daring escape from Big Bob Bamford. Stan’s dogs are tired and he’s hungry. But his new day is interrupted with a mysterious sighting of The Mothman.

Stan Prolongo by David Avila is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

So there I was, heading towards my office, but on the way I felt my stomach rumble like an empty cement mixer truck. I walked right past Alejandra and continued to The Picnic Shop. After treating myself to a cup of coffee and a plate of ham, egg, sausage and spam and of course, bacon, I leaned back to rest. I nearly fell of the barstool. I guess I need to sit in a booth to do that. Before I considered moving to a booth, Juliette, the cute blonde waitress with the lazy eye crashed through the back door and rushed to the front, almost knocking the cook over in the process. She seemed as excited as a teenage girl watching a Twilight movie trailer.

“I just saw The Mothman!” she exclaimed, waving her arms about.

I sipped my coffee mug but found it empty.

“The movie with Richard Gere?”

I sat my mug down and Juliette refilled it while still gesturing wildly.

“No, the real one, out back, when I took a trash bag out!”

Amazingly, she didn’t spill a drop. I took a sip of the black liquid. It ran down my throat with such strength I felt it punch me three times in the stomach.

“I’ll go have a look” I says.

I went around back and saw a tall man with giant sparkling wings on his back slinking off among the dark alleys of the city. I followed him. Then my feet started hurting from all the days excitement and the walking so I called out to him.

“Hey, are you the mothman?”

He turned and jumped and squealed like a little girl all at the same time. I kep walking towards him and he tried to back away, but he tripped and fell against some crates that were stored in the alleyway for no particular reason.

“Don’t hurt me!” he says.

“Why would I hurt you?” I says.

He looked at me for a moment before replying.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day?”

“It’s called the ‘hard boiled’ look, because I’ve been through lots of hot water. If I go through much more my yellow center will start turning gray. Now tell me, what are you doing slinking around Visalia wearing the old Bert the Butterfly costume from the school play from when I was in grade school?”

He looked terrified. I looked right into his eyes and slipped my hand into my pocket as menacingly as I could.

“I don’t know where he got he costume, he just told me to wear it and show up around town, but not reveal who I was!”

“Whose ‘he’?”

“I don’t know man, he, he, those eyes, he gave me fifty bucks and said there’s be more if I showed up in the papers!”

“What about his eyes?”

“Too many of them …”

He trailed off then threw some packing paper from a broken crate and ran off screaming. The screaming got drowned out by the screeching of tires and stopped with a loud thump. I rushed after and saw him lying there in the road, wings broken. Glitter floated in the air, covering everything with sparkles. He’d make the paper alright, but more money would do him no good. I looked in his pockets. I found a card with a the name “Araneae” and some numbers on it. I pocketed it and waited for the cops. I gave my statement, omitting the card, then went to finish my coffee.

 

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