Crab Cakes Gone Wild!
Photo Source:
A Mock-Up Still from “The Bad Clam”
(an unfinished film) by Brad Hudson
Bigfoot and I had a falling out.
More like a throwing out!
He threw me out of a tree,
because he blamed me for his bad case of fleas!
I think Biggie just felt bad,
because he almost fed me to the sharks.
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoot hates being called Biggie!
Except by me.
I’m the only one allowed to call him that,
so I have to remember not to call him that
in front of others;
or they’ll think he likes that
and start calling him that too.
Biggie hates when others call him Biggie,
because they’re talking about his feet,
but I’m talking about his heart.
I caught him climbing a tall tree
to return a fallen sparrow to its nest.
He look embarrassed,
as if I shouldn’t have seen him.
I said, “Dude, it’s cool to have a big heart.
If everyone did; the world would be a much better place.
Now hurry down, before that tree snaps in half.”
Great Advice:
Don’t ever ask Bigfoot for a piggyback ride.
Because he will expect one in return.
Biggie’s just a big kid at heart.
A big hairy kid who can crush you with one heartfelt hug.
So maybe our parting ways was for the best.
He acted brave in front of me,
but when he was a couple miles away,
I heard his wailing echo through the valley.
That was either Bigfoot crying because he missed me.
Or the Scorpion King got his tail caught
under an automatic garage door again.
I’d rather think Biggie missed me.
And why wouldn’t he?
We had so much fun
backpacking in Bermuda
and camping and canoeing in California;
near-death experiences notwithstanding.
Blessed as I always am,
I stumbled upon Craig’s Crab Shack.
Confounded as I often am,
that wasn’t a seafood place!
Fortunately though,
Katrina’s Crab Shack was.
I ordered crab cakes.
I needed something to assuage the aching in my heart
from parting ways with such a noble and hairy friend.
Plus, I was hungry!
I found this quaint seafood restaurant
only because I watched a meteor
crash into its backyard.
The glowing of that smoldering space rock
led me to the place.
With the day sunny, but not hot, I sat outside.
While I waited for my order to cook,
I whipped out my magnifying glass
to read the fine print of a studio contract!
Unfortunately, my doing so
burned the contract to ashes.
But not before I caught a glimpse of a phrase
“cost the writer his integrity and very soul”.
Hmm.
I wondered what that meant.
The producer Mephisto Darklord,
owner and operator of Diablo Studios,
promised me that with one signature,
he could make all my writing dreams come true.
Except for the supermodel clones and chocolate river.
So my big break went up in smoke!
But I knew I’d get famous soon enough.
How could any reasonable movie mogul
turn down such great screenplays as
“Exit Strategies”,
“Channel Surfing”,
and “Sharks on a Plane”?
Other than my overcooking a studio contract,
Katrina’s Crab Shack seemed like a decent place.
The server Sasha was cordial and kind.
The prices reasonable.
And Collier the chef prepared the food
as rapidly as non-fast-food can be made.
I noticed that my order of crab cakes
emanated the same eerie glow as the meteor.
Not only that,
but they leapt from the plate
and moon-walked toward me.
So I ran.
Fortunately,
I ate enough crackers
while waiting for my crab cakes
that I gained a little sustenance.
(If you can call crackers sustenance.)
At first I fled along the beach.
But then I realized that such a locale automatically
gave the crab cakes the home field advantage!
So I darted into the woods,
hoping to lose the trail of the Crab Cakes Gone Wild.
Wasn’t that easy.
They kept right behind me every step of the way!
I knew I should’ve stuck with a vegan diet.
Vegans never get attacked by their food!
Having Crab Cakes try to eat me
broke my number one food rule:
Never eat anything
that can eat you back!
But in my defense,
I had no idea those things would spring to life.
I also didn’t realize they would grow so rapidly.
I raced back to the cruise ship.
I didn’t want to miss the boat.
But in my defense,
I had no idea those things would spring to life.
I also didn’t realize they would grow so rapidly.
Snap! Swoosh! Crunch! Swish!
Trees flew at me from behind.
They were too close for me
to waste time turning around.
I listened carefully to know when to duck,
while I kept fleeing forward
as fast as my semi-hungry legs could carry me.
Scrap! Smoosh!
A tree swung at me from right in front of me!
I ducked as courageously as I could.
The tree swung over me like a mighty bat
hitting a homerun as it clobbered the Crab Cake in front.
I wondered why the Crab Cakes turned on each other.
Or did they not think I would duck?
None of the above!
Biggie came back for me!
Bigfoot held the tree overhead and growled.
I can’t be sure,
because I’m not entirely familiar
with the physiology of gigantic Crab Cakes.
But I’m pretty sure they wet themselves.
I did!
So I’m pretty sure they must’ve too.
They emitted some form of liquid
and shrunk to half their size almost instantaneously.
Biggie batted the Crab Cakes back to the crab shack.
As they rolled into the parking lot,
they shrunk to their original size, but still kept attacking.
Although winded,
out of breath,
and running with wet pants,
I rushed;
well, maybe rushed isn’t the right word;
I crawled faster than a dying snail
back to Katrina’s Crab Shack,
where Bigfoot pounded the Crab Cakes to no avail.
Struggling to remain conscious,
I called out,
“Biggie! …
You take care …
of the meteor. …
I’ve got …
this.”
Bigfoot looked around
to make sure no one heard me call him Biggie;
and swung the tree like a golf club,
hitting a hole-in-one with the meteor
landing in a cave on the other side of the cove.
I pulled out my magnifying glass
and treated those Crab Cakes
like a love letter from my ex.
Burning them the way I accidentally
burned the screenwriting contract.
The Crab Cakes screeched
as they smoldered and charred into oblivion.
Hearing a ruckus, Collier the chef
came from the kitchen to investigate.
Seeing me, he said,
“Table 3. How were your crab cakes?”
I shrugged.
“A bit overcooked.”
With the seafood entrée invasion destroyed,
I passed out.
Seeing my sweaty forehead and wet pants,
Collier called out, “Sasha!
I told you not to serve the tap water!”
Bigfoot towered over Collier and growled.
Collier broke out into a cold sweat and wet himself.
He called out to Sasha, “Never mind!”
Biggie carried me to a seaside restaurant
on the end of a long pier: The Mitter’s Catch.
Upon awakening,
I hugged Bigfoot and said,
“Thank you so much! I’m sorry I gave you fleas.”
Biggie laughed and hugged me back,
almost cracking my every rib.
His growl told me he didn’t really blame me for the fleas.
Splish-splash-plop!
Hearing that sound,
I looked into the ocean next to our table
and gulped to see a crab cake
floating alongside the restaurant.
My face turned white.
Great Advice:
If you’re in a situation
where you might get scared to death,
don’t wear white pants.
Any dignity I might’ve had left
oozed onto the pier.
Biggie laughed like a dental patient
I said, “It’s not funny!
You can’t find a tree on the pier to bat them away!”
With a growing smile,
Bigfoot pulled a tray of crab cakes from under the table.
He then growled in a way that said,
“Now we’re even!”
“For what? You admitted I didn’t give you fleas!”
He folded his arms
and grunted in a way that seemed to say,
“For getting mad at my ingesting dairy.”
I shook my head,
ready to rant about the need to let things go,
but then I noticed several dorsal fins gliding nearby.
Gulp!
No way I wanted another sh-sh-shark encounter
anytime soon, so I acquiesced.
“Sure thing, Biggie. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t see that the server Antonio approached.
He smiled at Bigfoot and asked,
“Care for more crab cakes Biggie?”
Oops!
Bigfoot glared at me as if to say,
“We’re no longer even!”
Biggie’s a great guy.
He saved my life plenty of times!
But between the fleas, the flatulence,
and his moody temper tantrums,
I decided then and there,
that I had enough Bigfoot sightings for a while.
For my next trip,
I’m flying to Scotland
to see the Loch Ness Monster.
More like a throwing out!
He threw me out of a tree,
because he blamed me for his bad case of fleas!
I think Biggie just felt bad,
because he almost fed me to the sharks.
Little Known Fact:
Bigfoot hates being called Biggie!
Except by me.
I’m the only one allowed to call him that,
so I have to remember not to call him that
in front of others;
or they’ll think he likes that
and start calling him that too.
Biggie hates when others call him Biggie,
because they’re talking about his feet,
but I’m talking about his heart.
I caught him climbing a tall tree
to return a fallen sparrow to its nest.
He look embarrassed,
as if I shouldn’t have seen him.
I said, “Dude, it’s cool to have a big heart.
If everyone did; the world would be a much better place.
Now hurry down, before that tree snaps in half.”
Great Advice:
Don’t ever ask Bigfoot for a piggyback ride.
Because he will expect one in return.
Biggie’s just a big kid at heart.
A big hairy kid who can crush you with one heartfelt hug.
So maybe our parting ways was for the best.
He acted brave in front of me,
but when he was a couple miles away,
I heard his wailing echo through the valley.
That was either Bigfoot crying because he missed me.
Or the Scorpion King got his tail caught
under an automatic garage door again.
I’d rather think Biggie missed me.
And why wouldn’t he?
We had so much fun
backpacking in Bermuda
and camping and canoeing in California;
near-death experiences notwithstanding.
We hang out a lot,
so I’m sure I’ll see him again.
Meanwhile, I felt famished.
Being falsely accused of causing flea problems
and flung from trees always makes me hungry.
I stumbled upon Craig’s Crab Shack.
Confounded as I often am,
that wasn’t a seafood place!
Fortunately though,
Katrina’s Crab Shack was.
I ordered crab cakes.
I needed something to assuage the aching in my heart
from parting ways with such a noble and hairy friend.
Plus, I was hungry!
I found this quaint seafood restaurant
only because I watched a meteor
crash into its backyard.
The glowing of that smoldering space rock
led me to the place.
With the day sunny, but not hot, I sat outside.
While I waited for my order to cook,
I whipped out my magnifying glass
to read the fine print of a studio contract!
Unfortunately, my doing so
burned the contract to ashes.
But not before I caught a glimpse of a phrase
“cost the writer his integrity and very soul”.
Hmm.
I wondered what that meant.
The producer Mephisto Darklord,
owner and operator of Diablo Studios,
promised me that with one signature,
he could make all my writing dreams come true.
Except for the supermodel clones and chocolate river.
So my big break went up in smoke!
But I knew I’d get famous soon enough.
How could any reasonable movie mogul
turn down such great screenplays as
“Exit Strategies”,
“Channel Surfing”,
and “Sharks on a Plane”?
Other than my overcooking a studio contract,
Katrina’s Crab Shack seemed like a decent place.
The server Sasha was cordial and kind.
The prices reasonable.
And Collier the chef prepared the food
as rapidly as non-fast-food can be made.
Unfortunately, …
I noticed that my order of crab cakes
emanated the same eerie glow as the meteor.
Not only that,
but they leapt from the plate
and moon-walked toward me.
So I ran.
Fortunately,
I ate enough crackers
while waiting for my crab cakes
that I gained a little sustenance.
(If you can call crackers sustenance.)
Unfortunately,
the crab cakes gained a little sustenance
from the tartar and cocktail sauces.
Even more unfortunately,
that wasn’t nearly enough sustenance for them,
so they sought more.
Even still more unfortunately,
they sought sustenance from me!
At first I fled along the beach.
But then I realized that such a locale automatically
gave the crab cakes the home field advantage!
hoping to lose the trail of the Crab Cakes Gone Wild.
Wasn’t that easy.
They kept right behind me every step of the way!
I knew I should’ve stuck with a vegan diet.
Vegans never get attacked by their food!
Having Crab Cakes try to eat me
broke my number one food rule:
Never eat anything
that can eat you back!
But in my defense,
I had no idea those things would spring to life.
I also didn’t realize they would grow so rapidly.
I raced back to the cruise ship.
I didn’t want to miss the boat.
But in my defense,
I had no idea those things would spring to life.
I also didn’t realize they would grow so rapidly.
On the bright side,
the larger the Crab Cakes got,
from eating unlucky squirrels and chipmunks
who scampered in their way,
the clumsier they became.
Growing too fast for their minds
to adapt to their enlarging bodies.
Kind of like pubescent adolescents.
On the dark side,
the larger they got,
the stronger they got.
I no longer had to look back to wonder where they were.
I could hear them knocking over the trees
that got in their way.
I missed Bigfoot like crazy.
He always knew how to handle marauding monsters.
Snap! Swoosh! Crunch! Swish!
Trees flew at me from behind.
They were too close for me
to waste time turning around.
I listened carefully to know when to duck,
while I kept fleeing forward
as fast as my semi-hungry legs could carry me.
Scrap! Smoosh!
A tree swung at me from right in front of me!
I ducked as courageously as I could.
The tree swung over me like a mighty bat
hitting a homerun as it clobbered the Crab Cake in front.
I wondered why the Crab Cakes turned on each other.
Or did they not think I would duck?
None of the above!
Biggie came back for me!
Bigfoot held the tree overhead and growled.
I can’t be sure,
because I’m not entirely familiar
with the physiology of gigantic Crab Cakes.
But I’m pretty sure they wet themselves.
So I’m pretty sure they must’ve too.
They emitted some form of liquid
and shrunk to half their size almost instantaneously.
Biggie batted the Crab Cakes back to the crab shack.
As they rolled into the parking lot,
they shrunk to their original size, but still kept attacking.
Although winded,
out of breath,
and running with wet pants,
I rushed;
well, maybe rushed isn’t the right word;
I crawled faster than a dying snail
back to Katrina’s Crab Shack,
where Bigfoot pounded the Crab Cakes to no avail.
Struggling to remain conscious,
I called out,
“Biggie! …
You take care …
of the meteor. …
I’ve got …
this.”
Bigfoot looked around
to make sure no one heard me call him Biggie;
and swung the tree like a golf club,
hitting a hole-in-one with the meteor
landing in a cave on the other side of the cove.
I pulled out my magnifying glass
and treated those Crab Cakes
like a love letter from my ex.
Burning them the way I accidentally
burned the screenwriting contract.
The Crab Cakes screeched
as they smoldered and charred into oblivion.
Hearing a ruckus, Collier the chef
came from the kitchen to investigate.
Seeing me, he said,
“Table 3. How were your crab cakes?”
I shrugged.
“A bit overcooked.”
With the seafood entrée invasion destroyed,
I passed out.
Seeing my sweaty forehead and wet pants,
Collier called out, “Sasha!
I told you not to serve the tap water!”
Bigfoot towered over Collier and growled.
Collier broke out into a cold sweat and wet himself.
He called out to Sasha, “Never mind!”
Biggie carried me to a seaside restaurant
on the end of a long pier: The Mitter’s Catch.
Upon awakening,
I hugged Bigfoot and said,
“Thank you so much! I’m sorry I gave you fleas.”
Biggie laughed and hugged me back,
almost cracking my every rib.
His growl told me he didn’t really blame me for the fleas.
Splish-splash-plop!
Hearing that sound,
I looked into the ocean next to our table
and gulped to see a crab cake
floating alongside the restaurant.
My face turned white.
Great Advice:
If you’re in a situation
where you might get scared to death,
don’t wear white pants.
Any dignity I might’ve had left
oozed onto the pier.
Biggie laughed like a dental patient
overdosing on nitrous oxide.
I said, “It’s not funny!
You can’t find a tree on the pier to bat them away!”
With a growing smile,
Bigfoot pulled a tray of crab cakes from under the table.
He then growled in a way that said,
“Now we’re even!”
“For what? You admitted I didn’t give you fleas!”
He folded his arms
and grunted in a way that seemed to say,
“For getting mad at my ingesting dairy.”
I shook my head,
ready to rant about the need to let things go,
but then I noticed several dorsal fins gliding nearby.
Gulp!
No way I wanted another sh-sh-shark encounter
anytime soon, so I acquiesced.
“Sure thing, Biggie. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t see that the server Antonio approached.
He smiled at Bigfoot and asked,
“Care for more crab cakes Biggie?”
Oops!
Bigfoot glared at me as if to say,
“We’re no longer even!”
Biggie’s a great guy.
He saved my life plenty of times!
But between the fleas, the flatulence,
and his moody temper tantrums,
I decided then and there,
that I had enough Bigfoot sightings for a while.
I’m flying to Scotland
to see the Loch Ness Monster.
She may be slippery,
but Nessie knows how to party.
but Nessie knows how to party.
Bill Cosby:
Parents are not interested in justice.
They want quiet.
Dean Burkey:
Telemarketers use sophisticated computer systems
that detect the moment you sit down to eat;
and then start dialing.
George Carlin:
“No comment” is a comment.
Dean Burkey:
If you cruise a lot,
you may be eligible for Frequent Floater Miles.
Jerry Seinfeld:
Dogs are the leaders of the planet.
If you see two life forms,
one of them’s making a poop,
the other one’s carrying it for him,
who would you assume is in charge?
Tom Wilson
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