Securing our spots in hell
Roy and I found a fat, slimy slug on the way home from the liquor store on Saturday night, so we decided to bring it back to my apartment and kill it. I thought about chopping it into itty bitty pieces with my cleaver knife, but scraping the sticky slug off would have been an impossible task.
So we decided to go the more traditional route and give that big lug of a slug the ol' salt shaker fatality. Except, I don't have a salt shaker at my apartment, so we used my bottle of Cavender's All Purpose Greek Seasoning as a substitute:
Roy was clearly disgusted about what we were about to do and said, "DUDE, WHY THE FUCK ARE WE DOING THIS!?"
"Just shut up and take the pictures," I said. "I'll pour the seasoning."
Roy shook his head in hesitation, so I glared at him and said, "Come on. We're doing this. I need this for my blog."
Holding the bottle of Greek seasoning tightly in my hand and watching the slug nervously squirming around on my kitchen counter with its raised optic tentacles sticking up in the air, I felt truly evil. I finally understood how monsters like Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy felt. Somewhere in my head, a Friday-the-13th-Jason voice echoed: "Killkillkillkillkill."
And then I poured the seasoning all over the poor sucker and watched it writhe in extreme pain as its skin bubbled. I smiled at my handiwork.
I glanced over my shoulder at Roy, who was silent and just continued to take picture after picture of its slow death.
"Killkillkillkillkill."
A few minutes passed and it was still moving around, so I took the rock that we found it sitting on outside and smashed it over and over and watched its guts explode all over the kitchen counter and I let out a murderous, howling laugh.
"How does it feel?" I asked Roy.
"HOW DOES WHAT FEEL?"
"This. Playing God. How does it feel?"
And Roy said, "DUDE, THIS WAS POINTLESS! YOU'RE A FUCKING RETARD, YOU KNOW THAT? THAT SLUG DIDN'T NEED TO DIE. AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, 'PLAYING GOD', YOU FUCKING SICKO? GOD CREATES, HE DOESN'T DESTROY. YOU AREN'T FUCKIN' GOD, DUDE. YOU'RE LUCIFER! SATAN! THE FUCKING DEVIL!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! I FEEL DIRTY, MAN."
"Muahahahaha..."
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18 Comments
:( Poor thing.
Devilishly hilarious.
you bastard.
I wanted to find it a shell, pete wanted to kill it.
That was deeply disturbing, but worth it when you did Jason "killkillkillkill" thing.
I'm scared of and hate snails, slugs, leeches and everything else with a slimy exterior. I found that whole story disturbing but it has made me contented.
*applause*
i thought you were busy? not too busy to kill a slug and document it, huh.
Aw, that makes me sad :(
That was very entertaining, but very irresponsible writing, in that you brought the sadist out in all of us! :) By the way that is one huge slug.
Change your name to Beavis.
Quit being a hermit Pete and come out with us Thursday night!
While you're at it, quit killing helpless slugs too!
Christ, it looks more like a snake than a slug to me. That is huge.
PETE!!! That was just wrong, I can't believe you did that. You can even see its blood in the last picture! PETE! =(
You don't have salt? I'm disturbed by that.
Would you like to be my gardener? :)
That is sad :_( I was so upset by that. That was so, so terribly sad. What if someone did that to a pet you had what if this slug had been someone's pet. I am really, but what if you had a pet slug and someone did that to your pet slug. :_( : _( :_(
That is so sad. I don't think that was a good idea to do that either.
Who would keep a pet slug!?
that one looked fat and juicy, though.
but if I saw it on the street...
Squaosh!!!
I'd bet it'd feel good under my boot too!