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Cheese Falls on Royer

Elliott Cumber-Lanny

Elliott Cumber-Lanny


Some nacho cheese fell on Lankville business magnate Ric Royer last night.

Royer’s condition is unknown.

“What we had here was a situation where some cheese fell on [Royer],” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive on the scene. “The How’s, What’s, Why’s, they are unknown to us at this time.”

Some crickets chirped loudly. It grew darker.

“There could be a time in the near-future when we will be able to update you further,” Gee-Temple added.

A curious beam of light briefly illuminated the detective’s darkened office, then vanished.

Can you give us an idea if the cheese was hot?

Royer with the cheese on his head.

Royer with the cheese on his head.

It was an aberrant, high-pitched voice– unknown, unseen. Its preternatural quality was clearly a monstrosity. And yet, it refused to come forth from whatever abominable realm from which it spoke.

“We do not know that. How could we?” Gee-Temple answered. But this was no longer his dominion. He possessed no earthly right to converse within this nightmarish dimension.

Someone stepped forward. He was a reporter, yes– we recognized him and, yet, we did not.

“Eons ago, unimaginable eons ago,” he began, “when only the waters existed. And from this foul, hateful slime there came a race of beings which dwelt in the sunken abysses of the oceans, inhuman creatures bound to the worship of inhuman Gods. When the great continent arose and the islands arose, then these revolting creatures sunk deeper into the lowest depths. They hate man, for they feel that man has usurped their kingdom. Their power will eventually embrace all the continent, all the islands. They will achieve their desire.”

“Who are you?” demanded Gee-Temple.

The reporter laughed. “I work for another paper. I’ll see you guys later.”

After he left, it grew darker. “I’m going to put a tail on that guy,” Gee-Temple said, after a long period had passed.

We set out into that darkness.

We have wandered all night.

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