PYTHON-THE SHOCKING TRUE STORY

[Ultra Pidgeot]

A rather large airboat tooled through the reeds and lily pads of the Everglades, its fan drowning out nearly all nearby noise.

On the deck stood three men. A fourth one sat at the controls, maneuvering it through the plant life. The 3 standing men held assorted weaponry in their hands. One had a Mini 14, another held a large black crossbow, and the last one simply held a .45 pistol. They were all of them fierce, ruthless killers.

"KILL THE FAN!"

The one at the controls did as requested and switched it off, although it took a few seconds to fully stop.

"Alright. Do you see one?"

The one with the Mini 14 nodded slowly and knelt, raised the small rifle to his shoulder and aimed at a tree. He quickly pulled a trigger, and a massive ropey python fell from a tree into which it had climbed and fallen asleep, a bullet having taken its head off.

"Nice shot."

The driver started the boat back up again and they were off, the flat bottom of the craft allowing it to effortlessly glide across even the shallowest water.

These men were masters of the art of death. They killed for the thrill of it, not for monetary gain or because they sought personal justice, but because Florida hated pythons, and nobody gave a rat's ass whether you blew a wild one to pieces or not.

These men were the Python Eradication Squad, or PES, and they were about to embark on a life changing adventure...









What is this? Hell, even I don't know. I was bored. I kinda sorta wanna run with it though.

 

[Lugion]

Lawl. Just lawl. Amazing what you come up with.

 

[Ultra Pidgeot]

Thanks, ol' buddy...

 

[Ultra Pidgeot]

Chapter One-PYTHONS. PYTHONS EVERYWHERE. (some language)

Spoiler

Steve sat in his kitchen, scrubbing the dinner dishes clean of any food residue. He rolled his neck, popping several vertebrae.

"Ooh. That's what I'm talking abou-"

He was interrupted by an intense shrill screaming that seemed to be coming from the bathroom. Dropping his sponge, he sprinted to the bathroom where his wife was (or more correctly had been) showering. She now stood there, completely naked, standing atop the toilet.

"Jesus, Steve! Kill it! Kill it!"

He shook his head and looked at her.

"Kill what?"

"There's a goddamn snake in the shower! KILL IT!"

He walked towards the shower and pulled the curtain ajar and looked around, his hand dangling in the steam generated by the how water.

"Listen hon, I don't see anythin-"

At that moment, something large and thick wrapped around his left arm.

"Good god!"

He jumped back, a massive python curled around his arm and working its way towards his neck.

"Shitshitshit! Kill it! Get a knife and kill it!"

His wife hopped off the toilet and ran for the kitchen and their collection of knives. He now lay on the floor, the snake having coiled around his entire arm, his feet wrapped around its tail, attempting to pull it from his arm.

"Honey? I don't have all day, y'know!"

He wrestled with the massive serpent, its ropey body inching ever closer to constricting his trachea.

"Honey!!!"

He rolled and began punching its body, but it was of no avail. It simply continued on its way. Finally, he stood and staggered to the kitchen, dragging a good 10 feet of python behind him. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed his wife digging through the kitchen drawers in a desperate attempt to find a large enough. He pulled a massive carving knife from the soapy warm water of the sink and dug it into the python's underside and dragged down violently, thoroughly eviscerating it. It instantly released its grip on him and slid to the floor. Steve and his wife collapsed onto the ground, panting. Wearily, he removed his phone from his pocket and dialed animal control.

"Hello? Animal Control? I have a question. What should I do with this big dead python? No. It attacked me. It was a wild one or something. Well I gutted him with a knife. It was around my arm and stuff. Yeah. He's all over my kitchen floor now. Okay."

He clapped the phone shut and stood.

"Go put some clothes on."

She did as told and he hefted the snake's body from the floor and marched out the front door into the night and dumped the massive carcass into a trashcan. Upon reentry, his wife was mopping up the blood and entrails. She glanced at him.

"You okay?"

He looked at his severely bruised arm.

"Yeah. I'm fine."
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The sun rose over their little section of suburbia and Steve went outside and grabbed his newspaper off the ground. His neighbor and friend, Jeff walked out.

"Heh. Hey, Steve. We heard you and your wife screamin' last night? That must've been some great sex..."

Steve facepalmed.

"No, man. Some python like...crawled out of the toilet and attacked me. Check this out."

He raised his arm and pulled back the sleeve of the bathrobe, revealing a mottled purple and black mass of flesh.

"Shee-it, Steve! What did you do to it?"

Steve chuckled.

"I ripped his guts out with a knife. Huge mess in the kitchen. I'm just glad it didn't wake the kids."

He dropped the sleeve and grabbed his paper and walked into his house. Jeff looked about timidly before nearly sprinting back into his house.

"Honey?"

"Yeah, Jeff?"

He took a big breath and asked.

"Where's my crossbow?"

He could hear her scoff from across the house. She walked into the living room and gave him a look of "Yeah, right. I'm gonna tell you that."

"Well. Where is it?"

"Jeff, honey...you don't need it."

"Steve got attacked by a huge python that crawled up through his toilet last night and had to kill it with a knife. I mean. We've got a baby. What if I'm not home and one attacks? You wouldn't have time to dig out the crossbow, load it, and shoot it in time. Where is it?"

She sighed resignedly.

"The attic in a box marked 'Stacy's Childhood Toys'"

He darted towards the attic, excitement in his eyes.
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Alton sat in his living room watching the golf channel when his phone began ringing. He saw it was his buddy Jeff and answered it.

"What's up, Jeffster?"

He took a long sip from a can of Pabst as Jeff talked.

"Well, y'know our annual swamp fishing trip?"

"Oh sure, oh sure."

Another long sip of Pabst.

"Well, me and Steve we're wondering if we couldn't use your airboat this time so we could get around easier."

"Well...we gotta get Mike cause I can't pilot that thing. It was a gift from the father in-law, so, y'know. I didn't actually have any interest in it and never learned to pilot it."

"Okay. Cool. Can you call him for me? I'm at the range plinking with my crossbow."

"Stacy finally let you have it?"

More Pabst.

"Yeah. Hey, and in case we find any gators, could you bring your dad's old Les Baer?"

"Wha-? We've never taken guns out there. We've never had a problem with gators..."

This time he set the beer down, confused as to why they needed firearms on a fishing trip.

"It's just to be safe, man. Don't worry about it. Just bring plenty of ammo."

"Okay. Whatever man. I'll call Mike."

"Thanks Al."

Jeff closed the phone and addressed Steve.

"Alright. Al's in. Now we just need Mike..."
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Mike's airboat glided smoothly through the water, a young woman piloting it.

"Alright, Melissa. Here's where they think they saw the albino gator. Stop right around here."

"Yessir."

The fan died slowly, and Mike, clad in the khaki of a Game Warden hopped onto the soft swamp ground. Creeping slowly, he found a massive nest and in this nest was a sleeping albino alligator. It was at this moment that his cell phone began to ring, waking the alligator. It bared its teeth at him and began to hiss.

"Oh shit."

And with that, he sprinted of across the swamp towards the airboat.

"START THE BOAT MELISSA, START THE BOAT!"

"Boss?"

She looked at him and saw him running towards the boat.

"START THE BOAT NOW! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD START IT!"

She complied and he hopped into the boat and she jetted off across the shallow water. Panting, he finally addressed the caller.

"H-hello?"

"Mike?"

"Jeezus, Alton. You just woke up a damned alligator we've been searching for for weeks."

"Oh...uh...sorry?"

"So what was so important you had to call my work phone?"

Alton stammered.

"Well it's just...we were wondering if you could pilot my airboat for us on the swamp fishing trip..."

"Uh-sure..when is it?"

"Two days from now."

Mike sighed, exasperated.

"Fine. Sure. See you then."

He ended the call and collapsed on the
bottom of the boat, panting, as it whirred along.








Part 1.

 

[Lugion]

I'm sick of these Fire-Blastin' snakes on this Fire-Blastin' forum!

I lawled again at this chapter.

 

[Ultra Pidgeot]

Then I have achieved my goal.

 

[Zekurom]

Might want to consider spacing your paragraphs properly... right now they're all single-spaced, and I personally only single-space dialogue. Most people are even more stickler-y about it, and double-space everything.

 

[Ultra Pidgeot]

Chapter 2-THAT MUCH BLEEDING IS NORMAL.

Spoiler

Steve and Jeff stood at the dock, the large airboat floating in the murky water next to them. It was piled with coolers, boxes of food, and sleeping bags. Alton walked up, a backpack slung over his right shoulder and a holster holding a pistol on his belt.

"Oh, wow, guys. We don't usually take this much stuff."

Jeff coughed.

"We thought it'd be fun to make it a four day thing instead of the normal 2."

"Oh. Say, where are the fishing poles?"

Steve hopped onto the boat and held up a box full of fishing pole parts and a tackle box.

"Oh."

"Say, Al, do you know when Mike is scheduled to show up?"

Al glanced uncertainly at his watch, furrowing his brow as he did so.

"Well it's 2 now, and he said 2:15..."

"Thanks, Al."

"No problem, Steve."

Alton stepped onto the boat and set his bag down next to a large cooler. As he stood, his shoulder knocked over a cardboard box, which fell softly into the water, where it proceeded to float. Al looked at where it had been and saw it had been stacked to conceal a small compartment containing a Ruger Mini 14 and a crossbow.

"Guys! I knew you were concerned about gators, but this is a little excessive, don't you think?"

Steve and Jeff stammered. Mike walked up early and also climbed aboard and started the engine and drove it off in the course of about 30 seconds.

"Guys! What the hell are you doing?"

Steve placed his hand on Alton's shoulder.

"Listen bud. We knew you would say no if we asked to borrow your boat for a python killing trip, so we pulled this. Now, unless you want to swim back-"

Alton turned and glanced towards the dock. They were already so far away he couldn't find it.

"You're stuck here with us."

Alton collapsed onto the deck and cried a little bit.

"You guys duped me into this! You know I hate snakes! What is this...I don't even...."

He curled into a ball and cried even more. Steve and Jeff approached Mike, who sat at the controls, guiding the craft through the swamp.

"You think he'll be okay?"

Mike continued to gaze at the terrain ahead of him and answered.

"Yes. I've known Al since first grade. He'll be fine. He might get pouty and be a whiny bitch about it for awhile, but he'll get over it. He always does."

Steve nodded and walked off, while Jeff climbed into the seat next to Mike and pulled out a map he'd customized.

"Okay, so if we're here...then we should head 4 miles West and then two miles North, we'll be in the middle of python country..."

Mike banked hard to the left before straightening out and continuing through the reeds, each thin stalk making a soft whump! sound against the metal hull. Alton was still crying as they continued on towards the unknown.
__________________________________________________

Mike slowed the boat to a stop over some fairly deep water.

"35 feet is deep for a marsh like this, Jeff."

"Whatever."

Alton had stopped crying, although now he was sitting against the side of the boat, legs pulled up to his chest, his head resting on his knees.

Steve opened a box and removed a small green stove and a bottle of propane. Lighting the fire, he placed a pan over the small blue flame and a pat of butter in said pan.

"Alright! Who's ready to eat?"

Silence.

"Okay then..."

He continued cooking for a few minutes before spooning the strange goop like food into disposable bowls. The four ate in silence as the sun set. Upon completion of their meal, Mike resumed control of the boat and continued on into the swamp.

"Lights, please."

Steve and Jeff headed to the bow of the ship and turned on two massive searchlights that sliced through the inky black night like a hot knife through butter. Almost as soon as this was done, the ship ran aground.

"God damn. alright, guys. We gotta get out of the boat and push her back into the water."

There was a collective groan of protest before they clambered off the boat onto the spongy earth. Mike placed himself behind the fan and led Steve and Jeff in pushing, as Alton had refused to get off the boat.

"Alright. One, two, THREE!"

The trio pushed as hard as they could, struggling for a moment. Then, the bottom of the boat hit a slick patch of mud and glided across it with ease. Mike, Jeff, and Steve were now stuck on the small island.

"Okay, let's swim..."

Mike was about to dive in when they saw Alton standing on the rear of the boat, his pistol pressed against his temple.

"Take me back or I'll do it, guys. I swear!"

A few tears rolled down his cheek. Mike rubbed his temples frustratedly.

"No you won't, Al. You pull this all the time and never do it. Put down the gun."

Jeff walked forward.

"C'mon, Al. We don't have time for this crap."

The three waded into the water to get back on the boat. They were waist deep into the water, when, suddenly, the pistol was turned on them.

"You can't get back on the boat unless you promise to go back!"

"Al...cut the crap, okay? Let us back on the boa-"

Jeff was cut off by a python bursting out of the water and latching onto his arm, the fangs digging into the soft flesh of his upper right arm.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!!"

Mike placed his hands on the bottom and top parts of the python's jaw in an attempt to pull them apart.

"JESUS H. MOUSE GET THIS DAMNED THING OFFA ME!"

Jeff thrashed about in the water, the python hanging on doggedly. Steve punched the snake's body to no avail.

"Screw it."

He lifted it's midsection out of the water and bared his own teeth and bit into it, causing it to release Jeff and focus on him. Wiping the blood from his mouth he hollered.

"TAKE THAT YOU SONOFABITCH!"

Mike grabbed the snake at the base of the skull and held it above his head. In a completely calm tone of voice, he addressed Alton.

"Al, toss Steve the gun. Now."

Alton complied and Steve caught the gun.

"Steven. Place the gun against the snake's skull and pull the trigger."

Steve did as told and was coated in snake bits. mike dropped the still squirming body into the water and wiped the blood from his face.

"Good job, team."

He and Steve approached Jeff, who had hauled himself to the shore and was clutching his arm.

"IT FEELS LIKE MY ARM IS MADE OF FIRE ANTS..."

He was moaning incoherently at times, swearing about the pain others. Steve lifted him over his shoulder and swam cautiously to the boat and slowly ascended the metal ladder onto the deck, where he placed Jeff on the ground. He was bleeding quite heavily.

"Mike, is he supposed to bleed this much?"

"This much bleeding is normal. Hand me some whiskey."

Jeff vehemently protested this.

"DON'T YOU POUR WHISKEY ON IT YOU SADISTIC BASTARD! DON'T DO I-YAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!"

Mike set the bottle aside.

"We had to sanitize it, Jeff."

He screamed various obscenities until he suddenly fell asleep. Mike immediately set about dressing the wound.

"There. That should be good."

He set Jeff aside and he and Steve proceeded to clean the blood off the metal deck of the boat. When they were done, they grabbed their sleeping bags and fell asleep, as did Alton.

 

[Ultra Pidgeot]

Also, this is the airboat they're traveling on, except, y'know, minus the tourists.

Spoiler