Shut Up About Cthulhu

“I just don’t understand what makes him so popular,” said the Loch Ness monster.

“Oh, I know. Is it his Escher-esque city, terribly located in the middle of the ocean? His wings that probably can’t even lift his fat ass three feet off the ground? His tentacles? I have tentacles too, but you don’t see me flaunting them around everywhere.” The Kraken sipped on his French-pressed coffee, and then sipped on his nine other French-pressed coffees. “And another thing: that book of his. The Necronomicon.”

“Oh, here we go.” Nessie bit into a scone.

“So it was a New York Times bestseller. Look at my face: does it look like I care? That was the most dull and pretentious book I’ve ever read in my life. That ‘even death may die’ line everyone keeps spouting makes me want to puke. My comedy memoir, ‘What’s Kraken?’ is a thousand times more entertaining, and your book … What was your book again?”

“Weight Loss for the Working Woman.”

“Oh. Right. Well, I’m sure it’s a more effective weight loss guide than the Necronomicon at least.”

“Not really.”

“The point is, that guy doesn’t deserve all the praise he gets. Get over him, already.”

“Yeah. Seriously, everyone needs to shut the hell up about Cthulhu. He’s not that cool.”

“Seriously.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping drinks and listening to the old pop songs playing over the venue’s speakers. The lunch rush was over and the coffee house’s crowd had thinned, but there was one person sitting alone on a nearby sofa, facing away from the Kraken and the Loch Ness monster as he read a coffee table book about Paris. The Kraken was bobbing his head to Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Songs” when that person finally stood up and revealed himself to be hundreds of feet tall and covered with scales. He turned around, and the two monsters froze when they saw the tentacles bedecking his face.

“Cthulhu,” said the Loch Ness monster. “F-fancy meeting you here.”

“Huh? Oh, hey guys,” said Cthulhu. “Nice weather we’re having.”

“Yeah,” the others replied.

“After all this rain, it’s refreshing to have a little sun.”

“Seriously,” said the Kraken, who had paled.

“Well, I’ll see you later.” Cthulhu ambled loudly and violently out the door, and for a moment Nessie and the Kraken felt relieved he hadn’t heard them gossiping about him. They flashed haughty smiles at each other, which looked very strange on the Kraken especially.

But Cthulhu, after a period of indecision, reentered the coffee house and said, “By the way, I just want you to know that I’ve heard ‘Release the Kraken!’ so many times that it’s given me brain damage. So you’re a squid that’s bigger than most squids. Great. I’m completely unique in every way. And you,” he said to Nessie, “at least I don’t have gift shops selling my likeness on t-shirts and mouse pads, you sellout. Go to hell, sea creatures. I didn’t ask for my popularity.”

Cthulhu let the door swing shut, hopped into his Ferrari, placed his sunglasses on his face, and drove away to the city of R’lyeh at top speed. The Kraken and the Loch Ness monster sipped and nibbled in complete awkward silence.

“Seriously,” said Odin, the coffee house manager.

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About Christopher Haygood

Christopher Haygood is an incorrigible punk from the darkest sector of Nowheresville. He is a writer of novels, short stories, articles, screenplays, threats, and fake prescriptions for the unsuspecting elderly. He is not yet infamous.
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3 Responses to Shut Up About Cthulhu

  1. Marjolein says:

    Hahaha good job on this one! Very very funny!

  2. Very entertaining.
    But what does La Chupacabra think about all this?

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