8

Templeton and Ms. O'Hannorhan are still stuck in the same cave on the same island. They've NO idea how they're going to escape their monstrous captor's wrath...

Ms. O'Hannorhan makes out with him...again. She's still in her revealing leopard bikini. Templeton just loves the feel of her wide forehead against his sensitive parts... His nose often finds itself stuck in her boobs...

Clearly, the stress of being captured by a giant alligator-mutant has made Ms. O'Hannorhan more sex-hungry. It may be, after all, the last sex she gets to have before Gatorella makes him and Templeton a brace of olives in his next martini...if he drinks those.

Templeton is honored, and flattered, that Ms. O'Hannorhan keeps calling him a hero. Alas, in this state, Templeton couldn't feel any less like one. Gatorella is going to eat them both. And there's nothing he can do to protect either of them...or Roman Austroasia.

The ground shakes. The water in the cave makes waves. On the shore near the cave wall, some bones on a whale's skeleton jiggle loose, and fall over. This is what causes Ms. O'Hannorhan to finally take a breath, turn over, and dread Gatorella's judgment...

He's back. Just inside the cave entrance, he surfaces from the water. Templeton isn't sure why he does that. He reminds him of a boss he once had...

He ascends, and approaches. He's got a tuna in one clawed hand, and a Humboldt squid in the other. Templeton's disappointed; if the squid were a giant, and still writhing, he'd able to...NOT get the thing on camera, because he doesn't have one of those. And hence, the "never been filmed" record of the giant squid would remain unbroken...

(In reality, it has been broken, once... But from what I've read, that's been the ONLY time...)

Ms. O'Hannorhan crawls back on the rock, and whimpers. Templeton inadvertently puts his hand on her thigh, so that she doesn't crawl over the edge...or worse, get pounced on by Gatorella before she can.

Templeton has never known Ms. O'Hannorhan to be suicidal. OTOH, she IS a bimbo...

Gatorella looks scary. He stands tall, over his two human guests. Ms. O'Hannorhan whimpers, closes her eyes, and dreads the worst. Templeton breathes, looks up, and anticipates the same, prepared to face whatever wrath to whatever end...

Gatorella holds up his two catches. Feeding time, he says in a deep telepathic voice. I've brought you a tuna and a squid. He drops both on either side of them.

Ms. O'Hannorhan screams. The squid still writhes, and reaches towards her with its tentacles...

Templeton loses control, pounces on the monster, and wrestles it into submission. Alas, it wraps its arms around his throat, and starts strangling him.

Ms. O'Hannorhan screams, too terrorized to help her man. Templeton's eyes bug, and he would say his final Hail Mary...if only his own apocalypse allowed him the breath.

Gatorella impales the squid through just the right region, killing it. Its arms go limp, and Templeton breathes.

Above, Gatorella sighs and shakes his head. His exhale knocks Ms. O'Hannorhan over.

O, dear Templeton, the monster telepathically laments. O how your nation has not lent you its power.

Templeton stares up at him. "Do you mind?! There's a girl here with me! We're taking time to ourselves out here!"

"And why did you kidnap us?!" Ms. O'Hannorhan struggles to fix her blonde hair. "What've we done to you? And if you're not going to eat us, then what else is there?"

You are no hero, Templeton. I have seen more of your heroism than you can recall...and it's cheap, in contrast to how I've seen better men try to slay me.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Templeton complains, "but I'm not really the hero type. I don't doubt that my heart is pure enough, but it takes power and cunning to slay a monster; I've neither."

Yes. I can tell. But thankfully, I know of a smaller challenge for you; smaller, yet no less dangerous. If not for him, the local junta wouldn't have the power to subdue Roman Austroasia, or make itself the only thing in Indochina more fearsome than I.

Templeton gapes. "Oh, well... If THAT'S what the government owes its power source to, then I've suddenly stopped wondering why it's still afraid of you. I also still haven't figured out as to how you're strong enough to destroy ten of the junta's regimes, and haven't even come after number one!"

It's quite simple, really. I'm a monster. I can't rule a human society. I'm not human enough to sympathize with human concerns.

Ms. O'Hannorhan chuckles. "That sure didn't keep Godzilla from claiming Tokyo as his own, did it?"

I am not Godzilla. Godzilla was fiction. Besides, humans would have to pay me taxes. I'm a monster; I have no use for human specie.

Templeton chuckles. "Well; Godzilla sure wouldn't have used those pathetic excuses to not destroy a government; hostile or benevolent."

I do not want a government. I want what's right for the public welfare.

Templeton and Ms. O'Hannorhan both stare up at him.

I know; I get it. I'm a monster, and I eat the public welfare for breakfast, right? If the public suffers, nature suffers too. I can only create a worse world for humans, as long as the locals have both the junta and me to fear. I never ask for their terror, believe it or not. To them, I just LOOK scary. I know not how or why I was made. I just know that I am just as reluctant to die as many of you humans are; it is only natural for a creature to want to preserve himself and keep himself alive.

Templeton and Ms. O'Hannorhan still stare up at him. Templeton puts his fists on his bare hips.

Now, the Baracus makes the Roman Austroasian public just as afraid of him as I do of myself, by habit. I need you, he points a claw down at Templeton, Templeton Peck, to relieve me of the crowding his politics cause mine.

"Whoa, whoa, back up," Templeton holds up his hands. "Why can't you just kill the Baracus yourself?"

"Back up even farther," Ms. O'Hannorhan adds. "What's a baracus?"

Gatorella sighs. There is a feliform, a panther-mutant of sorts, that does the junta's bidding. His role is mostly administrative. He is virtually the only thing that keeps the public from rising up against the junta-that, and most of them are probably too stupid to realize that they're being oppressed by their state's rule.

"Easy now," Templeton mutters. "You DO realize that Ms. O'Hannorhan here is a bimbo?"

Ms. O'Hannorhan pushes Templeton over.

The Baracus must be stopped. I need you to do it.

"You still haven't told me why...or how, even."

I can't walk on land. I mean, I CAN, but I'm not as secure on it. And neither is humanity. Plus, they'd have a better advantage with me walking than they ever do with me swimming.

Templeton chuckles. "You sure seem to wade through the sea quite well."

I don't all the time. If you ever wonder what I do when humans don't sight me, I'm swimming. And I must, most of the time, to stay sane. For most humans, it's comparable to being inside on a cold day...if anyone around here knows what that's like.

"Excuse me," Ms. O'Hannorhan demands, "but I'm a blonde! Do I look like a local to you?!"

"Calm down, Ms. O'Hannorhan." Templeton turns back to Gatorella. "Very well, I'll take your word for it. I don't usually do this, but I accept your challenge." He studies Ms. O'Hannorhan. "I would never dream of refusing it."

"Ooh," Ms. O'Hannorhan bubbles, "I get to see a nice boy slay a monster! This is so exciting!"

Very well. Gatorella lends both of his hands. I'll take you to shore. From there, you go alone.

"Wait," Templeton holds up both his index fingers. "Do you know where the Baracus is being kept?"

No. But I think I know of a way you can find out.