Disclaimers: Gary, Chuck, Marissa, Sparky, Gary's toilet, and anything else that CBS or whoever else claims to own doesn't belong to me. However, the idea of a mutated (and might I add, very mental) goldfish is purely my idea. I therefore take full responsibility for harm that might come to somebody from Sparky's motives.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Frostbit
Summary: How do you stop a mutated goldfish before it’s too late?
This story is dedicated to my mom, who first brought Sparky back to life. (I bet she's jumping for joy.)
As a last note, I beg you not to call the men with the strait jackets on me!
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Sparky's Revenge
by Teresa LaBlynn
I crawled inside the overturned trashcan. Dawn was approaching so I had to stay out of sight for the day, and this trashcan seemed like the perfect hiding place. I had already grown to over a foot high, two feet long. If anyone saw me now, I knew I would be killed, or worse, sent off to some laboratory to have some scientists poke and prod me. I shifted some of the garbage around to make a more comfortable bed; I was extremely tired after my long nights journey. I lay down, remembering old, happy days, and the man responsible for bringing those days to an end; why I want my revenge.
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I was a young goldfish when my master rescued me from the pet store. My master’s name was Chuck Fishman. I always thought it was cute how my master named himself after me. Chuck was always a faithful master. He always gave me plenty of food and cleaned my bowl regularly. It was three days ago, that cold, winter’s night, when my life changed forever.
During the night, the heat went off in my master’s apartment. By daybreak, my bowl was frozen over. The heat still wasn’t on in my master’s apartment, so he took me and some of his belongings he would need, and headed over to his best buddy’s hotel room. From the very start I didn’t like my master’s buddy. His name is Gary Hobson, and he gets tomorrow’s newspaper today, but that’s no reason to be so grouchy and mean to my master. I mean, his toes nearly froze off during the night! Gary was angry when my master dumped out his cheap coffee and offered him some better coffee. Can you believe that guy? He would rather drink cheap coffee than drink the good, expensive stuff, when it’s offered to him, free!
Anyway, since my bowl cracked, my master made me a temporary home in Gary’s sink. For some reason he was mad and demanded my master to take me out of the sink at once. So my master put me in the first thing he could find, a glass by the sink. For some reason, that made Gary even madder! So my master was planning on finding me yet another home, when the glass slid from his grasp, and shattered to the floor. That was a terrifying moment laying there, no water to surround my body, just glass around me, but my master quickly took care of me. There was no other place to put me so I wouldn't die, so my master slid me into the toilet. It was actually quite cozy. Everything was going great. I had a happy, new home, and my master was enjoying a massage given by an attractive young woman. But then Gary came back, grouchier that ever. He was so disgusted with the paper, he didn’t even notice me in his toilet when he went in to use the bathroom. My master says another friend of his, Marissa Clark, is blind. I guess my master needs to get a closer look at his buddy because he’s the blind one. But Gary was so busy being angry at the paper and my master, he didn’t see me swimming around trying to get his attention before it was too late. I yelled as loud as I could, but my teeny, weenie fishy voice wasn’t loud enough for him to hear. It still brings a rush of pure anger to mind when I think about that moment. That was the moment before Gary reached over and flushed the toilet, still having not looked down. The water came rushing in circling waves. I swam with all my might, but I couldn’t out swim such powerful waters, and I disappeared down the pipes. I am so angry when I think of that moment because if Gary had taken the time to think of someone other that himself and looked down in his toilet, then I would still look like my beautiful, petite self. I wouldn’t have mutated into the disgusting monster I am now.
Anyway, the force of the water was pushing me down…down…down. The
further down I went, the worse it smelled. The stench of human waste
filled my nose and I could barely breath, not only from the smell, but also
from not having any clean water. The water here was so contaminated
that I was sure I would die. In fact, I probably would have, had
I not seen a clear-blue drop of water, at least, at the time I thought it
was water. I swam over to it as fast as my fins could carry me in such
muck. As I swam closer, that drop looked like a piece of heaven sent
sown to hell. I reached the drop and swallowed it whole. I knew
insistently what I just swallowed what not water. It had a disgusting
flavor to it. It stung my entire insides, and then my body felt as if
it was melting from the inside out. I knew then that the drop I swallowed
had to be some kind of human chemical they put in their toilets. I
was sure I was going to die, but instead my fate turned out to be much, much
worse. I felt my body changing. It became easier to breath, and
move around in the sewer. My side fins had increased in length; they
were now more like arms than fins. My back fin had split, now like
two misshapen legs. My mouth became bigger; to allow me to suck in
the nutrients my body needs from the sewer. I realized my entire body
was increasing in size. I seemed to be double the size I was. I began
to swim, propelling myself forward like a frog would. I was searching
for any way out of this smelly, man-made prison, when a sudden tear slid
down my cheek, a tear of the knowledge that my beautiful body and existence
had been mutated into this monster. It was then that I realized what
I must do. I must make the person who caused my pain pay. I must
seek my revenge on Gary Hobson.
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I must have swum around that sewer for hours looking for a way out before I broke the surface. I looked around, turning a full 360 degrees before I realized I was swimming in a sewage waste dump. It was also then I realized I could breath the air without harming myself. The chemical that mutated me must have also given me the ability to breathe on land. I wasn’t sure if I could live on land, but I had to take the risk. I had to get away from that human waste before my nostrils exploded from the stench. I had to seek my revenge.
I saw the nearest shoreline was about seventy feet away. Slowly, I made my way towards it. What felt like hours later, I reached the edge of the shore. Slowly, on unsteady fins, I tried to stand. My fins immediately went limp. I couldn't stand on my useless, deformed fins, but I could crawl. I crawled forward on the forearms of my fins and pushed with my back fins. I crawled strait forward for about fifty yards until I came to a fence. Luckily, at that time, I was still small enough to crawl under it. A few feet on the other side of the fence I saw a drainage ditch. As I approached, I saw my reflection in the murky, brown water. If I was grotesquely deformed then, I have gotten ten times worse now. At the time my right eye had grown twice as big as my left, which was three times as big as its original size. My mouth was this hole with a flap of skin over it. My top fins had mutated into five uneven, misshapen spikes. And worst of all, my beautiful golden color was gone, only to be replaced by a dirty bronze color. On top of all this, I was still covered with human waste! I did the only thing I could. I crawled down into the ditch for a muddy bath. The coolness of the water was so refreshing! I felt like I had died and gone to heaven! I dived and splashed for a half-hour before I was satisfied all the remains of the human waste was washed off my body. I looked up at the sky and was surprised to see it was dark. Not long ago it had been morning. I was settling down, content to stay in this ditch for the night when I suddenly had a thought. I had to travel tonight and only at night. There was too great a risk a human would spot me in the daytime, and I must not let that happen if I want my revenge. I sat there, in the water for several minutes, soaking in the relaxation I felt. Reluctantly, I climbed out of the ditch and started crawling towards the lights of the city of Chicago I saw a great distance off to my left. I had a long journey ahead of myself, and I needed to get started. I wanted, no, I needed, my revenge.
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Three days later, as dawn approached, I crawled into the overturned trashcan. I was exhausted! Three nights of endless crawling, but I had finally reached the outskirts of the city. But this presented another problem. How was I to know where to go? I know Gary Hobson lives at the Blackstone Hotel, but I have no clue as to how to get there. I was settling down, preparing to worry about my problem when I woke up, when I caught sight of a paper under my right fin. I pulled it out. It was a torn, stained, but complete street map of Chicago! Luck was defiantly going my way for a change! Remembering that the Blackstone Hotel was located on Michigan Avenue, I quickly started searching for the street. I located it and realized with frustration that it was practically the opposite side of the city. Oh well, that's only a minor setback. Nothing can stop me from seeking my revenge!
Not long before dusk I was awoken suddenly from my slumber by a violent shaking. I soon realized that it wasn't an earthquake, but someone was rocking the trashcan and rummaging through it! I didn't even have time to think what to do when I saw big, brown eyes staring at me. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a second before the young girl let out a high-pitched scream and ran off, a mane of black hair flying behind her. This scared me. This scared me a lot more than the prospect of traveling by night. I wasn't even in the heart of the city, and I wasn't safe anywhere. What was I to do? How could I seek my revenge if I couldn't get to Gary Hobson?
And then it hit me; the storm drains. I could swim under the streets of Chicago to the Blackstone Hotel using the storm drains.
I used the last light of the day to memorize the map of Chicago that was still in the garbage can. Even though many humans say it isn't so, goldfish have excellent memories. When it was too dark to read anymore, and I was sure I knew the way to the Blackstone Hotel, I wrapped the map around my body and set off. Cautiously, I peered out of the trashcan. Neither that girl, nor any other human was in sight, so I crept out and began walking toward the street. It's a good thing I covered myself with the map, because I know several humans spotted a moving map, but I know they had no clue what was under it. I didn't have to follow the street for long when I found a drain on the edge of the sidewalk and crawled in. I fell about ten feet and splashed into the water, which was about a foot deep. I was lucky. I landed in a deep spot. Most of the water was only about an inch deep or so, but still, the foot deep water wasn't deep enough. My back, left fin slammed into the cold cement of the bottom of the puddle, and I felt the bones snap. It felt like a fire was blazing inside my fin, starting in the middle and working its way out. The pain was so severe I just wanted to die. After what seemed like hours of lying in the pool, I got a grip on myself. I couldn't let this bit of pain stop my revenge. Even though every time I moved, it felt like long daggers were being pierced through my fin, I kept moving. I kept moving forward towards my destination. I kept moving forward towards my revenge.
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Nineteen nights later I knew I was within a block of the Blackstone Hotel, but I needed to get out of the storm drain. I began searching for the nearest ladder out. I came to one within twenty minutes. I reached up and curled my front fins around the bottom rung and pulled myself up. I managed to pull myself up to the top rung. I stood on the top rung and wrapped one of my front fins around the side of the latter and pushed up with the other on the manhole cover. I have grown quite strong in the last nineteen days. My injured fin has even seemed to heal. It no longer hurts. I lifted the manhole cover an inch and peered out. There was nobody in sight, so I pushed the cover off completely, and attempted to pull myself out onto the sidewalk, in the darkness of the night. There was one problem. I had grown so big I couldn't fit through the manhole. I pushed and squeezed and sucked in my belly for a full ten minutes before I could wiggle myself free. I quickly replaced the lid to the manhole and sank into the shadows as a late night drunk driver was swerving near. When the car had passed I stepped out of the shadow and saw myself in the glass of a store window. I looked much the same way as I did when I last saw myself in that drainage ditch. Only now I was bigger. Lots bigger. I guessed my height to be about seven feet high. This was all the persuasion I needed to get out of sight. I turned around, trying to figure out what to do, when I found, to my astonishment, I was standing right across the street from the Blackstone Hotel! I quickly crossed the street and crawled around to the side of the building. Finding the fire escape that leads to the roof by Gary Hobson's room, I began to climb. I must have been climbing those stairs for hours, but I finally made it. I made it to the rooftop that Gary Hobson has access to from his hotel room window. It was there I ducked out of sight, waiting, bidding my time for the perfect moment…
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When the cat came at 6:30 that morning, I awoke from my slumber chilled to the bone from the winter night. The cold hadn't bothered me before. Not after I had mutated. So why is it suddenly bothering me now? Oh well, that didn't matter. Soon, very soon, I would have my revenge. I crawled to the window and pushed it up, thinking Gary really should lock his windows. I crawled through the window while Gary quickly skimmed the paper and crawled up behind him. When Gary turned and saw me his eyes turned from shock to horror in the blink of and eye. Gary backed against the wall as I towered over him, slowly stepping closer; the paper slipped from his hand and lay forgotten at his feet. Gary tried to say something, but his throat was tight, not allowing a sound to escape. My booming voice suddenly rang and echoed around the room.
"Don't you remember me, Gary Hobson? It's me, Sparky. Don't you remember how my master was forced to put me in your toilet because you would allow no other place? Don't you remember flushing me down your toilet? No, you don't! You were too busy being angry with everyone, including my master, to notice me swimming in your toilet! You flushed me!!! You flushed me down your toilet and I mutated into this beast after I swallowed a drop of one of those chemicals humans put in their toilets! It's taken me over three weeks to get here, Gary Hobson, and now I will finally have my revenge!"
For a moment Gary looked as if he was going to respond, but a moment later, he dropped into a dead faint, cracking the side of his head on the doorknob to his hotel room as he fell.
I approached Gary's motionless body and said in a quiet voice, "This is too easy. You're supposed to cower under my glare, begging for mercy before I kill you. Not faint! I'm supposed to be able to enjoy this, but you aren't even fighting back. You're suppose to-"
But I was cut off by a knock on the door and I heard my master's voice call, "Hey, Gar, open up."
Hearing my master's voice I quickly crawled out onto the roof and shut the window. I couldn't let my master see the way I was. My master called a few more times before coming in the unlocked door.
"Gary!" my master almost screamed, seeing his buddy lying on the floor, unconscious. My master tried to shake Gary awake, but when he didn't move, he called 911. It nearly sent me over the edge to see my master so upset over Gary Hobson. How could I have made my master suffer so? That was the only thought that seemed to come to my mind. And that same thought kept repeating its self in my head. How could I have made my master suffer so? How could I have made my master suffer so?
Within five minutes an ambulance came and took Gary away on a stretcher. My master went with them, but not before he grabbed Gary's paper. Slowly I turned and began my slow decent down Gary's fire escape, not caring who saw me. There was only one thought in my mind, and it continued to go around my head in and endless circle, always repeating itself: How could I have made my master suffer so?
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Epilogue-----
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Gary wasn't injured badly by his blow to the head; he was released from the hospital the following morning. Though, for the life of him, he didn't know if what he saw was real, or his mind playing tricks on him from lack of sleep. When he tried telling Chuck, he only laughed nervously and told Gary he must have hit his head harder than he thought. But still, Gary wasn't sure. It seemed so impossible; yet, it seemed so real.
It is not known whatever became of Sparky; amazingly enough, nobody saw him climbing down that fire escape, or anywhere else he might have gone. Will Sparky continue to grow and mutate? Is he still planning to seek his revenge on Gary Hobson? Or are those dreadful words still playing in an endless, vicious circle in Sparky's head: How could I have made my master suffer so?
It is not known.
Email the author: sparky484@hotmail.com
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