Here's a story.

My good friend Austin has been pitching me ridiculous ideas and themes, challenging me to write on my feet as it were. The most recent pitch was a short story that needed to flow seamlessly, involving sex, beer, a giant squid, a talking tree, and the inner monologue of Austin's car. I did as I was told, and I must say that I am quite proud with the final product. It is fucked up, but relatively outrageous. Austin enjoyed it thoroughly, and I hope you do as well.

It is called "Drunken Defender: Mamaroute's Demise"

Part One: A Voice from Afar.

"Slow down, you're hurting me," she said, and just as I was laying down some of my best moves.

Not yet drunk enough to start blatantly ignoring her, I complied. As I reduced my thrust to an easier but much less fulfilling pace, I decided to turn away from her slick, sweat-beaded back and gaze out of the cruddy window of the stranger's cruddy apartment. I had a view of the park, if you could call it that. Really it was just a tree with a fence around it and an immense shit-ridden puddle that some idiot in city hall had the audacity to call a pond. I digress. However, tonight, something about the air or the alcohol made that lonely, pathetic tree seem a little more alive. In the gaps between when the train roared past I swore I could hear it breathing. Something made it --

"Oh, fuck. Oh fuck!" Goddammit she interrupted my whole train of thought. Gripping the sheets, she cursed and moan obscenities until I gripped her hips hard and finally relaxed.

She fell limp onto the bed and I immediately wiped myself off and headed towards the window. I heard a faint, deep voice speaking to me through the glass. Not wanting to confuse my beer-addled state with true sense, I tried to ignore it and head to bed. But as the voice crept into my head once again, I threw my clothes on, took one last look at the unconscious stranger that I had just fucked, and headed out of the place I had never been before to possibly have the first real man-to-tree conversation in history.

The air was cold and it made me feel about two inches less of a man, but I braved it and headed into the park. The tree was a giant old oak, with a thick, gnarled coat of bark that was torn in several places as if throughout its history people had been trying to cut it down. I placed my hand upon its cold, wrinkled skin and realized that it was no different from the old coots that I had taken care of back at the Institute.

"Finally someone listened," I heard carried through the wind.

Fuck. It's real.

"I've been calling and calling for over one-hundred-and-fifty years."

Double fuck. It's really real. "Why have you been calling?"

There was silence and for a moment I realized how fucking ridiculous I must have looked.

"There is a danger coming. A creature. I have foreseen it. I have been calling for aid, because this danger can only be remedied by human hands."

Then I realized what made this tree different from the elderly: it actually had something to say. "Well what the fuck do you want me to do about it?" I asked.

The tree stood still, much like trees do, and said, "You. You are the only one who has responded to my call. It is you who was chosen to save the world from the creature."

Realizing that even drunk, I could never think up a farcical scenario like this, I sighed and said, "Alright. Where is this thing and what is it?"

"It is Mamaroute, the giant squid of old. It is approaching the shore of this city as we speak. Use whatever weapons you can find, but you must destroy it. Destroy it before it rapes this world of itself."

"Fuck. I'm gonna have to borrow a car."

Part Two: A Voice from Within.

...So after I was pretty much raped and brutalized by my former pilot, her friend came and told her he needed to borrow me for a while. She was resilient for a while, but he told her that he had to use me for some very important mission, so finally she let him have me. He was tall, fit, and handsome, so I wasn't too hesitant about going with him. I have to say, though, that after the beatings I received when my former pilot was using me, I was up for any change in style. Of course, he turned out to be no more of a gentleman she was, and I ended up getting the beating of a lifetime. He was stronger than she was, so when he pushed it to the metal I could feel it grinding deep inside my frame, my gears twisting and about to blow. She had already destroyed one side of me, and he beat and violated the rest of me like it was his job. And she had nothing to say about it, either. All humans are the same.

Austin and I were on the way to the shore, and we started talking about what it would be like if other things besides trees could talk.

"This for instance, would have a lot to say," I said. "The thing was beat to hell even before I borrowed it"

Not to mention that pounding beer after beer I drove it pedal-to-the-metal until I reached the shore.

"Christ, this car would be pissed off, if it could feel," she said.

...It is almost as if humans have no idea that we can feel things. Pain, sadness, anger, everything that a human can feel. It pisses me off.

By the time we got to the shore the car was sputtering and from ever corner of it I heard something clank. It was just a car, though. It could get fixed.

...By the time I got them to the shore, I was broken and miserable and coughing up black smoke. I was like a cheap whore. Goddamn humans.

Part Three: Enter Mamaroute

Three hours passed and just as I was about to dismiss the tree as a hallucination, I saw the giant squid rushing out of the water and onto the shore. It landed two feet away from the car and let out a tremendous gurgling bellow, like when Alec Baldwin left his daughter that voicemail. I chugged another beer, tore off the car's windshield wipers and approached the squid, ready for anything. The monster lunged forward and suddenly halted, it's gelatinous face three inches away from mine. Gazing into its eyes I saw into the very mind of the great beast, and shouted, "Mamaroute! Your reign of terror ends here!"

...Just then, this huge fucking squid splashed out of the water and practically landed on me. Then that drunk, abusive motherfucker ripes off my wipers. What the crap?

I really had no idea what was going to happen after that, since I really had no idea how I was going to fend off this giant ancient quid with two broken windshield wipers.

...You should have seen that stupid motherfucker. He was hammered, trying to fight off this giant squid with two plastic Valvoline wipers. Psh. Humans...

The great monster then roared a second time as it thrust its giant tentacles around the car car. The tips went inside and fumbled around, as if in search of something, and reappeared with their slimy tips wrapped around Austin. It was then that it turned back towards the sea and started moving.

"Fuck! Get this thing off of me!" Austin screamed.

...I was being raped again, this time by tentacles. Eww...Thankfully they pulled out before I could get into the psychology of the matter. They took my pilot with them. Good riddance.

As the creature approached the sea I lunged after it with the wipers. I jammed one into its back, or at least what looked like its back, and began to climb up the slippery mountain of its body. Gripping with all the strength I could muster, I stabbed the beast in the top of the head with the other wiper. Convulsing and screeching, Mamaroute hurled Austin and I into the wake, and we floated there almost lifeless as he fell to the sand, dying.

I awoke staring into the morning sky, my head in the sand. Austin was next to me, her hand on my chest and her head on my shoulder. I thought to myself, "That's the last time I talk to a fucking tree."

...Those fuckers went flying into the water and I've gotta say, I've never laughed so hard in my entire life. The guy performed quite well, though, considering he was drunk. I guess I couldn't just leave them there.