Escargot Extract

by LeighWStuart

Escargot Extract

***

You need it. We have it. All natural, no tech.

Why 'write your own story' with Ecrivain's Specials when you can live the dream with Escargot Extract?

Mother Nature knows what you want...

Missing out on the joie de vivre with the same old, same old Ecrivain's Specials? Tired of hooking up for the adventure? With a few drops of our 100% pure and natural Fidififi Escargot extract, you can sip your way paradise!

Escargot – Pure. Powerful.

***

"Mac."

"Wha?"

"Mac, the beeping."

"So wha?"

"Make the...the beeping stop."

Silence. No. Not silence. The purring of a machine. A red glare burned into her eyes. The light was so bright, her eyelids were like bonfires.

Silvia opened her eyes to the blinding white of the lab. Today was the day they would prove to the world the extent of Escargot Extract's possibilities. They had tested for months since discovering on accident the hallucinogenic properties of the tiny gastropod from Fidififi, and all the signs pointed to go. Well, the scientists had tested it, she was there for the image.

Everything led to today. The final step was multiple people reacting to one another in a safe environment. Individuals in testing were fine, but they tended to become melancholy. Interaction was the key. Nice people coming together for a relaxing afternoon in the paradise of their making. And it would be projected to the whole world via WeView.

The beeping had pulled her out of a mini-session with the Extract. She noted on her I can't believe it's not paper tablet:

Relaxation dosage allowed noise interference. Avoid outside interference if possible for best results. Test for frequencies, types of noises. Increased auditory sensitivity, as per testers. Reminder to self – try classical music or nature sounds next time.

"Mac?" she asked.

"Wha?" He swiveled around the desk in his rolly chair to face her, a pen clamped in his mouth.

"Are we ready?"

He gave he a roguish, conspiratorial grin, and with a flourish produced two shot glasses on a small medical tray. "Am I ready? Here's to success."

For a second, she almost forgot he was something of an ex-boyfriend, if you could call casual dating for a few weeks a relationship. It had hurt when it ended, but business was business.

She could ignore his charms and studied handsomeness. He smiled, teeth as white as the lab walls. Damn, he had a big, square jaw.

Not for the first time, she wished she could make him suffer, just a tiny bit. And he should still pine for her. That would be nice.

"Silvia? Do you want it or not?" he asked.

"Is drinking allowed on the job?" She eyed the slightly yellow liquid, nervous flutters coming back in her stomach. Before every test, every new step, every time she tried to move forward, her instincts said she was making a mistake. Was today a mistake? But if it was, what could go wrong?

"Hey. Let the heavy-weights worry about the test subjects. It's not like we can do anything but enjoy the ride, in any case." He lifted his glass, the crystal sparkling at the beveled edges.

"You're right. Cheers! To the success of Escargot Extract." She tossed back the drink, the fiery liquid burning a path to her stomach. She shuddered. To think, some people loved these mini cocktails.

The intercom chirped to life, calling them to join the others in the testing room. Silvia adjusted her jacket, pinched her cheeks and led the way into the adjoining lab. Chairs were set out in two rows, and the test subjects were already seated, facing each other. In all there were a dozen, plus the two chairs at the end for Mac and her, for observation and marketing and generally answering questions. They had to keep the conversation going for the live coverage, if things slowed down.

The scientists in the room fanned out, administering the Escargot Extract to the testers while Mac explained to the thousands of people watching what was happening.

There was a metallic clink on the floor at Silvia's feet and a metal canister rolled between the chairs. She watched it, craning her head and finally bending down. It stopped at the end of the row.

Everyone froze. What was this thing? A surprise from the board of directors?

A hiss sounded and a white plume of smoke escaped the canister. More smoke. Someone screamed and the closest people jumped up to rush the door.

"Mac!" Silvia stood. The smoke attacked her throat and lungs, and she coughed. It smelled like industrial sea breeze mixed with burning plastic. Her head spun in dizziness. "What is going on?"

"I don't...I—"

A rapid popping explosion stopped him. "Get down!" He pushed her to the floor, the white smoke covering them. The door burst open and Silvia would have screamed except Mac put his hand over her mouth.

Bugs came in. Huge, horrible praying mantis bugs, dressed in black. Black speedos, to be exact, full of rips and tears. The bugs' razor sharp arm blades flashed and the things chittered and screeched at each other to communicate.

The leader had a chain saw.

Silvia and Mac scrambled backwards, trying to get to their lab door. The praying mantis with the chainsaw pointed it at them.

"What can you tell me about the snails?" it asked slowly around its mandibles. "Where do you have them? How do you perform the extract?"

Silvia shook her head. "We don't have them. The scientists..." The scientists had all managed to flee with the testers. She and Mac were on their own with the monsters. "We are in marketing. I swear, we don't know anything about the snails!"

"We don't want to hurt you, but we need the information." The thing leaned right into her face, and specks of saliva sprayed her face as it spoke.

"But I don't know—"

It revved the chainsaw to life. Mac threw himself in front of her. "She told you, if you want the formula, you will have to get the crew who developed it."

"Then you really aren't of any use, are you?" The thing laughed maniacally, a comic book villain muahahahaha, and it waved the roaring chainsaw in the air.

Mac screamed. He fell to the floor.

Silvia screamed. "Oh, god, no god, no, please no, don't hurt him, no—fu"

The room went black. There were noises. Then nothing.

New noises reached through the darkness. She stirred, groaning. Metal chairs scraping. Hissing and chittering. The barely audible cry of very sad snails being ripped from their homes. Her eyelids glared an ugly red from the light behind them.

She opened her eyes. She was crouched, handcuffed to one of the hooks on the wall to hold the equipment, and her hands were completely asleep. She couldn't make them move. Shifting, she glanced about, and nearly gagged.

Mac was sprawled on the floor, half of his leg was several feet away and a gushing fountain of blood from his thigh tried to reach it. Several feet away. She giggled. Actually, it was only one foot.

He was dead. They had killed him with a chain saw. He was dead. He was dead. He was dead.

She screamed. What if the bugs came back for her with the chainsaw? She had to escape. Yanking against the cuffs, she struggled to pull free. Her hands jiggled uselessly, no feeling or life in them and still very much tied to the wall.

"It's no use," Mac said. He lifted his head and spit a wad of phlegm and blood on the floor.

"What did you say?"

He propped himself up on one elbow to twist his head around and look at the pool of blood he was in. "Is it normal I can't feel my foot?" he asked.

"I think so. It's over there. But I can't feel my hands and they are attached," she said.

He grunted and reached for his cell card in his back pocket. With a quick shake he activated it, swiping a zig-zag in the air to call someone.

"Mac. You can't make a phone call. You're dead," Silvia said. She pulled on the cuffs again, hissing at the pain it caused in her wrists.

"I'm not dead. I'm drunk. I'm drunk with love."

Silvia's bio-card tinkled with an incoming call, but she couldn't hit her inner forearm to answer. She tried blinking twice, in quick succession, which should normally activate the response. It was no good. She had been crying too much and that always bugged the system.

She giggled again. Bugged the system.

"Here, allow me," Mac said. He dragged himself across the floor, leaving his leg and a dark, wet streak behind on the white floor. Silvia didn't think it was a good idea to leave his personal appendages behind like that, you never knew what could happen.

He reached her, hoisted himself up with the chair and tapped her bio-card button next to a tendon.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello," Mac's voice echoed doubly in her ears, once from in front of her and once in her head through the call. "I have to know, Silvia, if you love me as much as I love you."

He grinned, sending her heart flip-flopping. But...no. "We can't have this conversation at a time like this."

"I love you, Silvia, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It was a mistake to tell you I wanted to be colleagues only. Say you'll marry me until death do us part."

"You are drunk, but that doesn't mean you can propose to me."

He hacked up a mouthful of bloody mucous and spit on the wall. "I left the ring in the box at my station."

She screamed and yanked at the cuffs. "I can't marry a corpse, someone get me out of this place! I swear I'll tell you everything you want you know!"

The door banged opened. A soldier in black fatigues stomped in, oddly reminiscent of the Praying Mantises who had killed Mac. He was closely followed by a Toady.

She blinked. Why was there a Toady in the lab? Something was fishy was here. Then it occurred to her that the Church of the Almighty Toad had invested heavily in the preliminary studies for the snail extraction. All was right.

The Toady's face went green and his eyes bulged.

Her old religious training from her school days kicked in and she almost started a Big Shout-Out for the Almighty Toad, but reined in her ingrained habit. She hated the Toadies and all they stood for. But there was the problem of the handcuffs and murderous six-foot tall praying mantises.

"Hey! Help me, please!" she begged them.

Mac shook his head at her and rolled over. "Psst, Silvia, my love. I can wait forever. I'll be here, playing dead until you give me an answer."

The soldier knelt at her side and took her pulse in her neck. She shook her arms, making her hands flop at him. "Untie me please, before the bugs come back. They sabotaged the experiment. They had sharp arms and a chainsaw. Please, set me free before they come in here! They want me to tell them about the Escargots, but I'm just in marketing. I don't know how to harvest the extract, you have to believe me."

The Toady joined them. "I believe you, my child. But before we set you free, I need you to swallow something." He had the kindest, most soothing voice she had ever heard. He held out a small pill.

The soldier moved to check for Mac's pulse, and to shine a light in his staring, glassy eyes. It was pretty obvious her lab mate was gone to the other side, though.

"What is it? Not that I won't take it, mind you, because I really want to get out of here. But I would like to know ahead of time."

"It's just a wee bit of government approved bull-shit." The Toady smiled then, and she was warmed to the bones with the comfort of his presence.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds lovely." She willed her hand to extend so she could take the pill, however, the Toady, like a good priestly sort of man he was, instantly recognized her dilemma and put the pill directly in her mouth. He was so darned nice, she could almost get past the slimy green skin on his face and the way his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. He shot his tongue out briefly to lick his ear.

She was about to ask for a glass of water so she could swallow the pill, when it dissolved into a sweet, sugary, fake watermelon tasting piece of candy.

Bull-shit was so much better than she had imagined. She blinked several times, activating her calling function, which she ignored. The room came into focus.

The Toady was quite normal looking, and no longer green which was a good thing. The soldier revived Mac with another pill and she realized he had been simply knocked unconscious.

What was in the smoke they had inhaled? The stench of it lingered in the air still.

"Now, my dear, can you tell us what happened? And what about the Escargots?" the Toady said. He had the same kind of I can't believe it's not paper tablet as she did. He would be her Total Best Bud Forever.

"Well, there were half a dozen praying mantis terrorists who broke in, killed my coworker, scared everyone else off, and tried to get information from me. Then they stole the snails that were on display over there." She pointed to the empty aquariums.

The Toady nodded in gentle understanding. Gosh, she liked him. Which was very weird.

"But you didn't give them any information on the extract, did you?" he asked. "Not anything on maintenance? I have heard they are very fragile and it's difficult to keep them alive long enough for the extract."

"Oh, it is." She frowned and nodded. "The poor things will die if the temperature changes one degree too fast."

"Good. What else can you tell me about them?"

"So many things," she whispered. Finally, a chance to dish up some government approved bull-shit to a Toady, the swampy scum of the multiverse. "So many things to say about the snails."

She proceeded to give him a list ten pages (the pages were fake, anyway. No real pages on the tablets. Come to think of it, though, the list was fake too. She giggled.) long of instructions about temperature, feeding, humidity, bed-time songs and the angle of light for specific times of the day to keep the snails alive. And that was before she reached the details of how to proceed to an extract.

"And I must stimulate the snail's love dart on the underside of its chin?" the Toady asked.

"Yes, at precisely high noon on a weekday. Not the weekend. They rest on the weekends."

"I understand," he said. "Well, I do believe that is all the information we need from you. I have another pill you should take. It will help clear any lingering effects of the smoke. One for you and one for your friend."

Mac had not moved from the floor since being woken up by the soldier. Other soldiers had come and gone, but no medical personnel. Odd. She took the pill.

A beeping burrowed its way to her brain through her ears.

"Mac."

The Toady motioned to the soldiers in the room and they hurried out.

"Mac!"

The beeping became strident, piercing her ears.

"Wha?" he asked and rolled onto his stomach with a groan.

"The beeping, Mac."

"Ah..."

The beeping. Her eyelids were embers. She blinked open her eyes.

The white lab was buzzing with busy technicians. A smiling assistant in a crisp jacket held up a small empty glass.

"Congratulations," she said, "on the successful completion of your first time of Living the Dream with Escargot Extract. How do you feel?"

"Fuzzy," Silvia said.

Mac gaped at her from the opposite chair, a string of drool dangling from his chin.

"Fuzzy," the assistant repeated slowly and noted it on her tablet. Yes, it was an I can't believe it's not paper tablet. Apparently, everyone and their Toady uncle had one.

"Fuzzy." Silvia nodded. Her brain was definitely fuzzy. There had been adventure, a little innocent revenge on her cute coworker and the chance to be something of a smart-ass. But everything—the details, her tongue, her skin, the images—was fuzzy.

"Interesting. Now, what can you tell me about the longevity and reproduction rates for the snails in the lab?" the assistant asked.

"What can I tell you?" Silvia smiled. "So many things."

***

The End