2/26/13
I, Koala Whisperer
By David Edward Nell
The Koala Whisperer tiptoed his way through the darkness. “Right now, I'm in the heart of her habitat,” he started. “She's asleep as a bed bug, which is typical of her kind; this happens to be one of the laziest animals in the world. When this nocturnal creature isn't asleep, it goes on a mating rampage. Unfortunately, I've been told that this one can't have babies. Still, that doesn't stop her. By the way, do you know what they call Koala babies? Joeys. How cool, huh? Bit larger and more wrinkly than she was the last time I came here. But what gorgeous fur. Oh, wait. It's waking up. Guys, I better step off. Too late. She's reaching toward me, getting a well-good hold of my face. Don't you dare scratch me, mate. Crikey!”
She dug in with her long nails, screaming, “Burglar, get away!”
“It's your hubby,” the Koala Whisperer shouted several times over her tirade.
“Brandon?” she said, stunned, and closed her night gown. “Scared me.”
“Well, at least you got out of bed.”
“That an insult?”
“Casey, babe, never.”
“What in the bloody hell are you doing here, anyway?”
“Early release.”
“I thought you're in for life?” Casey asked.
“Made a deal with the judge. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”
“What's that you're holding?” She smacked a light switch nearby, saw that his hand was up a dead Koala's hind, using it as a makeshift puppet. “What the f--”
“Kiss me.” Brandon playfully moved its mouth.
Quickly, Casey took the corpse from his hand and threw it out the window. “Sick, rural bastard. I'm so angry, I just want to...” The smack she next delivered set his ears to ring.
“Christ almighty.” Brandon tested his jaw. “I didn't think you'd get this upset. I really, really need that Koala, too.”
“What world do you live in?”
“Relax a bit,” he gently urged. “I know you're angry and all, but calm down. Please. You're the only person I can trust at the moment. Do you trust me?”
“Why should I?”
“I know you love me, Casey.”
“There's nothing between us. You're the one who killed for me, idiot.”
“There's nothing between us. You're the one who killed for me, idiot.”
“I never killed anyone, certainly not those boyfriends of yours. I moved on years ago. Seriously.”
“Right. Someone made you do it?”
“I was set up. Can't you see how the world around us is an illusion? Everything we do is surveyed. We're all puppets. I'm a chimney's...uncle and, and...”
“Stop acting like a maniac. What are you trying to say?” she said, shaking him.
“There's these giants controlling us, Casey. Giant Koalas.”
She paused. “What?”
“Can't view them in our visible spectrum, but they've got us, Casey. Up the arse. Like I did with one of their own--and I was doing that because it makes sure they don't track me down.”
“Snap to your senses, man.”
“Pay attention. Remember what happened on that live Christmas special?”
Casey frowned in disapproval.
“Didn't mean to crush that Joey.”
“Of course. Murderer.”
“Ever since then, it's all gone sideways. They make me do things.”
“Maybe you should've been locked up in Derby Mental instead.”
“Sounds nuts, I know. I've got proof, though. Stand in front of the telly with me,” he said, taking her in front of the wall, where the television was indented.
“What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“When it reaches a certain frequency, they appear.” Brandon fiddled with buttons, making the screen change to blackness. As shadows appeared to be materializing, the power went out.
“Smart buggers,” Brandon gasped.
“It's likely these rolling power cuts we've been having in the area lately.”
“Impossible. Must be them.”
There was a knock at the door. “Police,” announced a stifled, stern voice. “Open up.”
“Can you see?” he whispered in horror, looking at his ex like it was the end of the world. “They've got me. They've bloody got me.”
“Don't cause a scene, Brandon,” she told him.
“Don't cause a scene, Brandon,” she told him.
“For you. Just promise you'll love me when I'm gone.”
“Always, Koala Whisperer.”
Then he touched her cheek and left for his fate. “You will never take my freedom, pigs,” were his last words before the officers gunned him down where he stood and dragged his body off without any questions. The blood remaining trailed a path from the passage past her open door, pooled by her feet. Casey looked down, and was unfazed by the sight. She stared blankly at the television, which was beginning to communicate something through fuzz.
“Until next time, Koala Whisperer,” the screen flashed and giggled. “A job well done, my dear. I thought you'd make for an appropriate partner.”
“As long as the sod's done for, I'm happy. I never trusted the bastard,” she said. “Now where's the money?”
“Coming right up.”
So the screen flickered off, having her wait. A faint rattling noise sounded. Looking around, she noticed her ornaments were vibrating, rumbling, and the ground as well, to the point that she was forced to hold the bed for leverage. Something was burrowing its way to the surface. Abruptly, it stopped. Casey breathed a sigh of relief, gained her bearings. Then she yowled. Pain. In her bottom. She gulped, observed what had invaded: a giant, black, furry finger. She could hear a pair of voices from what she then understood was the somewhere and everywhere. She was connected now.
“They always fall for that trick. Fools. Do you think it knows our betrayal, Sister?” said a mopey one.
“Obviously. Look at how frightened it is,” replied the other, more shrill in tone.
“What should we do with it?”
“Non-state.”
- - -
Having spent years trying to evade the Equestrian mafia, David Edward Nell now writes from a nameless hideout in Cape Town, South Africa. By night, disguised as numerous pop culture figures, he can usually be found scouring the African plains for loving. Stalk him at http://davidedwardnell.blogspot.com, but keep this a secret.
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