Jimbo and Ray

            “Whaddaya think?” Ray asked. “Wanna go for it?”

            “Hmmm, I don’t know.”

            “Ah, c’mon Jimbo, just look at him.” Ray’s stomach rumbled.

            “Okay, but we don’t tarry,” Jimbo cautioned. “We’re in, out and gone–got it?”

            “Yeah, yeah; in and out; like we was never there.” Ray nodded agreement. “I got it.”

            “We only circle once.” Jimbo traced a path with his arm. “Pick a spot on the edge.”

            “Let’s gooooo,” Ray jumped into the air; wings beating the air as he picked up speed. “Try and keep up.”

            Jimbo glided off the edge behind Ray. Wingtip to wingtip they dropped out of the sky in a tight formation. Their target; a slow moving hulk of pulsing flesh thousands of times their size remained oblivious to their approach. Half way through their circle, Ray pointed to a hairless appendage that lay open and unprotected. He tucked his wings going into a steep dive. Jimbo followed working down in a tight zigzag pattern; waiting until the last second before breaking off to the right.

            They hit the landing zone more than a dozen wing spans apart. The landing was perfect; soft and silent. Jimbo shot home the long, slim probe. The cutting edge hit home. Sticky, warmth seasoned with the bright tang of copper and salt filled his mouth. This was what he lived for. But, he knew life relied upon speed as much as stealth. Jimbo gulped a final mouthful; the tank was full. He slammed on the throttle and lifted off. Banking hard right, he headed for home. He went into a steep climb. He was still pushing into the climbing turn when he caught sight of Ray. His buddy was still perched atop a fat, pulsing river of blue. Ray hit a vein–the mother lode and he was gorging himself.

            “Break off!” Jimbo screamed as he buzzed close to Ray. “Get out of there!”

            Ray broke the connection. It was too late. Loaded down, he rose slowly. He couldn’t avoid the mountain of monster moving in on him.

            “Noooooo,” Jimbo screamed in horror as the trap closed.


            A streak of red and black goo smeared the spot Ray occupied only a moment before. Ray was history. Jimbo turned away for home trying desperately to hold on to his stomach contents. As Jimbo climbed for safety, the air around him thundered with a voice as big as the heavens.

            “Whoa dude, that skeeter really nailed you,” said the voice.

            “Ugh gross,” a second voice filled the air.

            The monster’s hand wiped Ray’s remains from its skin.

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