Echidna Media Organization project S.N.A.L. (emo_snal) wrote,
Echidna Media Organization project S.N.A.L.

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LJ Idol - Week 16 - Colouring Outside the Lines - A Moose Named Dennis

   FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP, a red helicopter lifted off from Ketchikan Airport and headed out across the Tongass Narrows. Destination: nowhere. Sarah Palin had one goal:
   To shoot a moose in the face!

   “Wait wait, I see a turkey!” exclaimed Palin into her helmet mic as they skimmed along 100 feet above the countryside. “Stop the chopper Trog, Imma gonna shoot it!”
    “My name’s not ‘Trog’” responded Trevor, the pilot, as he brought the helicopter to a hover. Palin gleefully aimed her M-249 machine gun, with underslung M-208 grenade launcher, at the hapless bird. “Pardon THIS!!” she shrieked as she let loose a hail of bullets.
   R’T’T’T’T’T’T’T’T’T, Palin unleashed a deafening stream of 800 bullets a minute upon the bird. Spent bullet casings bounced around her and out the helicopter’s open door. Clods of dirt shot up all around the bird as it scrambled desperately.
   She let go of the trigger as she heard Trevor trying to say something over the mic. On any account, she could no longer see the turkey in the cloud of dust and smoke.
   “What!?” she demanded irritably.
    “The Rev’s on the phone for you”
    “Oh. Tell him … I’m busy with state business”
   As the dust cleared, she could make out the turkey running across the pockmarked ground, miraculously unscathed. Not very accurate, the M-249. She moved her finger over to the grenade launcher trigger.
    “I’ll pwn you like I pwned Mr Joe Biden in that debate!” she mumbled under her breath.
   PLUNK, the cylindrical grenade round lazily arched through the air, turned end over end a few times, and landed near the turkey. KABOOM.
   Palin smiled sweetly as she was pleased not to see a surviving turkey anywhere near the smoldering crater.

   Flying low over the rolling tundra, she finally spotted it -- a moose! She kept an eye on him through her binoculars as Trevor piloted the chopper closer: An elegant bull moose, calmly munching on grass.
   Palin set the binoculars down and shouldered her RPG, putting the scope to her eye. Hmmmm. This would make an extremely satisfying explosion, but as she watched the moose in the crosshairs it didn’t seem right. This just wouldn’t do.
   “Set her down Trog! I’m going in on foot!” Palin called out. It was time to get up close and personal. Adrenaline coursed through her veins at the thought.
   She picked up her rambo knife and filled her pockets with grenades. This was going to be fun.

   As Palin crested a small hillock, there he was, not a hundred feet away. He raised his elegant head and looked at her fearlessly, almost challenging her to come closer. His antlers jutted proudly into the sky, his muscles rippled under his thick brown fur. Under his chin hung a shaggy beard that was kind of.. sexy.
   Palin approached until she was standing right beside the magnificent beast. She gazed deep into his large brown eyes. A feeling strangely reminiscent of when she and her husband Todd dressed up like moose began to take hold of her body, only this time it was more real. This time there was no Todd fucking forgetting to stay in character!

   Overhead, the aurora borealis danced across the sky. It twisted and writhed, arched and pulsated across the heavens. It was amazing. Palin had never experienced anything quite like this. She felt the moose’s steamy breath, and she knew the moose.

    Palin lay in the grass and smoked a cigarette wistfully. The wild, writhing, throbbing mind blowing experience had long since ceased, and it was getting late. She had drifted off to sleep afterwords, and when she awoke, He was gone. She felt slightly used by this, but after such a life changing experience, she just couldn’t be mad.
   “He needs a name,” thought Palin to herself. She went through her favourite names “Trig? No I’ve used it. Track? Used it. Tripp? Used it Tr…. Dennis! Dennis it is!”

   Trevor looked up as he saw Palin approaching the landed helicopter. Empty handed.
   “Where’s the moose?”
   “Ohh, nevermind the moose, Trog!” responded Palin with a knowing smile, “you know where my friends are going seal clubbing tonight?”
   “Yes, did you want to join them?”
   “No, I’ve had a lifechanging experience. We’re going to STOP them!!”

   FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP, the helicopter lifted off into the crisp night air.

Bonus Feature: Inspiration
(Monday, while brainstorming)
[17:56:57] BoxsOfRain: AURORAS
[17:57:02] BoxsOfRain: I want to write about that
[17:57:07] Snail of DEATH: ooooh
[17:57:08] Snail of DEATH: nice!!
[17:57:52] BoxsOfRain: but at this point nobody wants to read that shit
[17:57:58] BoxsOfRain: they want to read about mental hospitals and stuff
[18:21:36] BoxsOfRain: i want to write a really dramatic story
[18:21:48] BoxsOfRain: but cant think of anything dramatic about me right now
[18:22:05] Snail of DEATH: dramatic story involving the aurora
[18:22:06] Snail of DEATH: and moose!
[18:22:18] Snail of DEATH: SARAH PALIN SLASH FIC
[18:22:23] BoxsOfRain: HAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[18:22:27] Snail of DEATH: ;D
[18:22:48] Snail of DEATH: in which an amorous encounter with a moose changes her world view and she embarks to save baby seals!!
[18:22:55] BoxsOfRain: Dude
[18:22:58] BoxsOfRain: you should do that
[18:23:01] Snail of DEATH: how's THAT for colouring outside the lines

(Though admittedly the aurora as "colouring outside the lines" has fallen by the wayside. Now its just that the entire entry IS an act of "colouring outside the lines." (=
Tags: lj idol, lj idol entry
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