10/27/2010

It was a dark and stormy night.

No, really, it was. Some weatherman said that Pittsburgh was going to get hit by a tornado. He was either overzealous or lying.

I was returning from checking out Zomburgh, a place that will be offering classes that teach survival skills for the impending Zombie Apocalypse. No, I'm not making that up. Pittsburgh really is that awesome.

The scariest part, though, was the drive. The Liberty Tunnels are out of commission at that time of night, so I was detoured all around Mt. Washington. It was certainly a harrowing endeavor since it was raining so hard.

When I arrived back home, I was struck by the uneasy feeling that something was watching me. Or, even worse, following me.

It turns out I was right.


"What -- who?!" I exclaimed, spinning around. "This is private property. You can't just come in here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," it hovered at the door. "It's just that I'm a little, well, lost. It's my first time in Pittsburgh, and this city is so confusing."

I sat on the step to get a better look at him. "Wait. Are you...Cthulhu? Oh God, you are. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, bigger? Or rising out of the ocean? Or...devouring everything?"


"I think," he replied. "You have me confused with my dad, Cthulhu, Sr. He's taking a nap right now, so he told all of us kids to go out and play."

"Oh. So, you're...Cthulhu, Jr.?"

"No, that's technically my older brother. 'Cthulhu' is our family name. My first name is Zelfthilfygnan. I'm Zelfthilfygnan Cthulhu. I was named after Great-Uncle Zelfthilfygnan."

"How exactly do you spell that?" I asked.

"Z-e-l-f-h-i -- "

"You know what? I won't be able to pronounce it, anyway. Can I just call you Zelly?"

"Sure," he nodded. "Well, I shouldn't take up more of your time. It was nice meeting you. Maybe we'll run into each other in another few million years. Wait, you humans don't live that long. I always forget things like that." He waved and began to shuffle off down the sidewalk.

"Wait!" I called after him, ignoring all better judgement. "Would you like to come in for a bit? The weather is horrible. Are you hungry? I just went grocery shopping yesterday. I could make you something to eat."

"You know what? I'd like that. But I don't want to impose -- "

"Are you serious? I'm, like, your dad's biggest fan. I insist! And tomorrow, I can show you around the neighbourhood. Come on. I live just at the top of the stairs."


"Well, I would like to get out of this rain for a while."

After we were safely indoors, we went to the kitchen. Zelly was immediately dismayed to learn that my pantry did not include soul-based foods (he specifically asked for "cruelty-free", oddly enough), but he soon perked up when he discovered the pan of brownies I had baked that afternoon.

"I don't know what this is," he remarked. "But it smells heavenly."

"That's just some brownies. They're made out of chocolate and eggs and flour, but not souls. Go ahead, have one."


I no longer have leftover brownies. Actually, I no longer have leftover anything.


After wrenching him from my kitchen, I told him that it was time for bed. He must have been more worn out than he had let on because he fell asleep at my feet while watching a PBS documentary about Tecumseh.

I am thankful that he didn't discover my two guinea pigs, Egon and Captain Ahab. If he's going to be staying here, I should probably lay down the ground rules now. Guinea pigs are not to be consumed in THIS apartment!


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