Bucky Chaos and the Crab Queen

“What did you do before you joined the carnival?”

The question caught Bucky in mid-swing. His large, wooden mallet was suspended high above his head, but he didn’t falter. The mallet rapidly descended and pounded the tent stake halfway into the ground. Bucky looked at the young fiddler crab that was holding the stake with his oversized claw.

“Distracting me as I’m swinging is a dangerous thing to do,” said Bucky. “I could have missed and smashed your claw.”

If the crab had shoulders he would have shrugged. “I’d just grow another one. Besides I’m young and I think my hard exoskeleton makes me invulnerable. So tell me, what did you do before the carnival?”

“I was a celery stalk stacker,” said Bucky, as the two of them moved to the next tent stake.

The crab’s independently moving eyes independently studied Bucky’s unusual left arm, which was a sharp contrast to his blond hair and blue eyes. The arm was dark black with blue twinkles and white sparkles that slowly moved, as if they were stars and galaxies traversing the universe.

“That can’t be how you lost your original arm. How did it happen?” asked the fiddler crab.

“It was cut off by a falling satellite while I was at the dentist,” lamented Bucky. “This new arm was attached in a super-secret genetic engineering experiment.”

“Krill poop, what really happened?”

Bucky was ready to drive another stake but instead lowered the mallet, leaned on it, and confronted the crab.

“See here, Salty, I know you’re new to the carnival and don’t know our ways, but carnies don’t like being questioned so much.”

If the crab had hips, he would have put his claws on them. “Now wait a minute,” snapped Salty, “the Crab Queen may have invited you but you’re on our planet, Crustacea, and all creatures here have a natural curiosity, so get used to it.”

The saucy crab held another stake in place as Bucky raised his mallet. Bucky was angered by the impudent, little crab and that anger grew as he looked at the crab and then at the stake and then back to the crab. Bucky’s nostrils flared and his eyes bulged. At the top of his swing the mallet quivered then …

“Blasphemous banshees! What is the botheration that is prolonging the completion of this untroublesome undertaking? We must complete the assemblage of the carnival posthaste, for this evening we have a special command performance for the Crab Queen.”

This loud exclamation caused Bucky to halt his swing and turn to Professor Ignatius Verbal, the owner of the Pan-Galactic Carnival. Bucky took a calming breath, looked at his boss, and tried to gauge his demeanor. The professor was a large, round man with thin legs and multiple chins. He wore a faded top hat, plaid suit, and brown shoes covered by spats. The smell of ocean berry wine that surrounded the professor indicated that he wasn’t as upset as he sounded.

“The delay is entirely my fault, sir,” said Salty with a silky smoothness. “I was asking Mr. Chaos too many questions. But it was all in an effort to be a better carnival employee.”

Verbal leaned forward and blinked several times trying to focus on the young crab. “Ah, you must be one of the crustaceans we temporarily procured.”

“Aye, aye, captain, I’m Salty Fiddler,” said Salty, as he raised his larger claw in a simulated salute. “I’m ready and willing to help in any way I can, your majesty.”

Ignatius Verbal chuckled, and his top hat rotated to the other side of his head. “Well, I must say that for such a diminutive chap you demonstrate a plethora of bravado. We can use a fellow like you as a hustler for the mid-way games. Come with me and I will make the proper introductions to Porkpie, who is a skilled practitioner in the fine art of Hoaxocology.”

The professor and Salty walked away. Just before they turned the corner the young crab looked back at Bucky and motioned with his mandible in such a way that if he had a tongue, it would have been sticking out.

“Sidewinding sidewalker,” muttered Bucky, but he found that his job now moved faster without the questioning crab.

Soon the tents were erected, the rides were running, the banners were flying, and the games were fixed. As they waited for the arrival of the Crab Queen and her entourage, a wave of nervous tension ran through the carnival folk. Everyone knew that if the queen was impressed, they would be allowed to perform throughout her realm, which could net them more credits than they could possibly imagine or at least enough to cover their existing debts.

Bucky waited on a bale of hay with his best friend, Binkie who was an intelligent mountain gorilla. Nearby JoJo the Dog Boy was wildly barking at Stella the Snake Dancer’s snakes and Blaze the Flame Juggler had accidently singed The Amazing Rondo’s cape. The only one that didn’t seem nervous was Binkie who casually knitted socks for her boyfriend Grok, the Human Centipede.

“How can you be so calm, Binkie?” asked Bucky. “This could make or break the carnival. All of our jobs depend on it.”

Binkie shrugged and handed Bucky a book titled Zen and the Art of Spaceship Maintenance .

Bucky frowned. “You know I hate reading. It’s second on my list of things to hate, right after being torn apart by giant robots.”

At that moment Luigi of the Flying Luigis raced down the mid-way yelling, “They’re coming! They’re coming! Everyone get ready!”

The transformation of the carnies was shocking and swift. Their professional carnism leapt to the forefront and everyone moved to their proper positions to give an optimum performance, except for Bucky who stepped on several of the Human Centipede’s feet, bumped into the Amazing Rondo, and stumbled past Binkie. Bucky ended up spinning on his heels in confusion until his genetically engineered arm, which was known to occasionally act out on its own, slapped Bucky in the face and pointed toward the Big Top tent. This cleared Bucky’s head and reminded him that he was in the opening parade at the Big Top.

Before he could make it to his usual position behind the elephants, he was stopped by the grand entrance of the royal entourage. First came hundreds of royal baby crabs. Little red, orange, and beige crabs scurried under, over, and past each other. Some headed toward the rides like the Anti-Grav Coaster or Tilt-A-Whale, while others chose games like Toast Toss and Whack-the-Alien.

Next was a legion of marching stone crabs. Each carried a spear with a small, blue crab-banner attached. Behind these were several hard-shelled horseshoe crabs that preceded the wise and scholarly lobsters.

Finally, the royal couple walked in. The king crab was large and tall with long legs and claws, but he was dwarfed by the queen. She was three times larger than the king and twice as tall as Bucky. She had an iridescent blue carapace embedded with exotic jewels. There was a slow, elegant stride in her walk that allowed three Lady-Crabs-in-Waiting to squirt scented water on her legs and body. It was a truly grand entrance.

Once all the crab children were on the rides or playing games, the royal court took its place in the Big Top. Now it was up to Professor Verbal and the carnies to impress them with their skills, abilities, artistry, and just plain freakiness.

The professor stood in front of the queen, took his hat off, and bowed low. “Welcome Preeminent Divine Ruler of Crustacea and All Crustacean Life, greetings to you The Algae Eating Queen, The Helper of Barnacles, The Eternal Flower of Hot Love, The Royal Surveyor of Everything Between Here and There, The High and Mighty Snapper of Eyestalks, and The Most Muckity Muck of All Muck.“

As Verbal paused to catch his breath, a fiddler crab stepped out from behind him and addressed the queen.

“Your greatness, I am Salty Fiddler. I am Professor Verbal’s acting assistant and will facilitate any language or cultural problems that may develop between our species. I assure you that I have… “

“Enough!” cried the queen.

From behind the elephants Bucky glared at Salty and thought that if he wasn’t already a crab, he’d be a weasel.

The anxious queen shifted in her royal box and yelled, “Start the show and be aware that it had best be good.”

Verbal bowed low again and signaled the band that began playing carnival music with lots of organ leads and plenty of Oompah-Oompah sounds from the horn section. With the music starting, the parade began which allowed each of the acts to give the queen a mini-performance to wet her appetite for what was to come. Prancing horses, roaring tigers, nimble jugglers, contorting contortionists, dancing bears, skipping elephants, and then came Bucky.

Bucky stood before the Crab Queen and raised his amazing genetically modified arm. As with most humans, the crustacean ruler was mesmerized by the swirling colors and moving lights. Her eyestalks darted about as she tried to take in all that was happening on Bucky’s arm.

Suddenly the tiny clown car raced into the Big Top and sped in a circle before stopping in front of Bucky and the queen. The unexpected appearance of the clown car drew everyone’s attention, but nothing happened for nearly a full minute until finally a single clown burst from the car door. The frantic clown ran and jumped and spun in an erratic manner while at the same time shrieking and caterwauling in a way that horrified everyone. As the bizarre clown ran out of the tent, everyone looked back at the car with the expectation that more clowns would emerge. Instead, a large, slender, black tentacle rose from the open car door and planted itself on the ground by the car. Using that point for leverage the rest of the gigantic octopus exploded from clown car.

“Dirtpie! Dirtpie!” yelled a stone crab soldier.

“Assassin!” called a lobster.

A Lady-Crab-in-Waiting screamed as bedlam broke loose around the queen.

The monster flowed like black water swift and smooth directly toward the queen, causing Bucky to backup against the royal box. When he couldn’t backup anymore, Bucky’s gene engineered arm reached behind him and grabbed what felt like a board or pipe. The arm ripped it loose and began wailing away on the eight-armed, black beast’s head. The creature was stunned. As Bucky continued to hit the monster between the eyes, it began to back away and even gave a low moan. Suddenly it raised some of its tentacles and the tent was instantly filled with a black, sooty smoke that had everyone choking and covering their faces. When the smoke cleared the monster was gone.

“Medic!” cried a lobster. “The queen is injured!”

Nurse crabs, soldier crabs, and lobsters scurried around the queen who seemed to be more angry than hurt.

“Get back, you fools!” yelled the queen. “Let the nurse bandage the wound. It’s just a leg. It’ll grow back. Someone get me a bag of krill. I’m starving. Find that Dirtpie and bring him to me.”

“We have the carnival surrounded, my queen,” said a stone crab sergeant. “The assassin can’t escape.”

“Good, now find my inspector-general and where’s that strange human with the funny hat?”

Professor Verbal stepped forward and again bowed low. “I’m here, your highest holiness. I do hope the damage to your protoplasmic corpus is a mere discomfiture that will soon result in an unequaled tranquility.”

“I’m going to snap off your little head!” screamed the queen. “What kind of amusement business is this that attacks its customers? This was not entertaining! I hold you and your establishment responsible. Do you realize that my royal personage was accosted, and I actually lost… uh… one of… my… legs…” She sputtered a bit because Bucky had just walked up carrying the queen’s leg in his modified arm.

Looking down, Bucky noticed for the first time that it wasn’t a board or pipe that he had used on the beast. It was the queen’s leg. With everyone staring, Bucky stepped forward and offered the leg to the queen. A servant crab rushed up with a plush, purple pillow and Bucky gently put the leg on it. Bucky smiled at the queen but didn’t think that a smile was going to smooth things over. And all the while Salty is skipping around pointing at Bucky.

“YOU did this!” cried the queen.

“No, no,” said Bucky, “I didn’t have anything to do with the monster. I swear.” Bucky hesitated and stared at the ground. “The leg? Yeah … okay …maybe I did have something to do with that, but not the monster.” He looked up again and continued with confidence, “Besides I saved your life. I drove the beast away.”

The queen was silent in thought for awhile then, “Where’s Herman? Where’s my Inspector-General?”

“I’m right here, my queen,” said a rather old hermit crab in a conch shell.

“Oh, you switched from the periwinkle shell.”

“Yes, my highness, this is a bit roomier and definitely an upgrade. Now, how can I serve you?”

“I’ve been assaulted, Herman, by a Dirtpie and these humans may have conspired with the beast. I want you to go with the human with the strange claw to find the Dirtpie. It’s still here someplace and he will know where to look. You have one hour. If you can’t find it, I’ll take my revenge on these humans.”

The professor whispered to Bucky, “Please make haste, my dear boy. I can’t express the preponderancy of the situation.”

As Bucky and the hermit crab exited the tent, Bucky asked, “Why do you call it a Dirtpie? It looks like some kind of giant octopi to me.”

“It’s a land cephalopod,” said Herman. “It’s adapted itself to live entirely on the land in the same way as crustaceans. But Dirtpies are our archenemies. They want to eat us.”

“That’s not nice,” said Bucky. “I guess we should find it but where?”

“We can start by following the large suction cup marks on the ground.”

“Oh, yes, they’re heading toward the rides area.”

At the Solar Slide the tentacle prints disappeared which indicated that the Dirtpie had climbed onto the slide. Next to that ride was the Tunnel of Distractions which had dark, cramped rooms where even a giant beast could hide.

“You go through on this end,” said Herman, “and I’ll wait on the other end if it comes out.”

“Why don’t you go through the Tunnel?” asked Bucky.

“Because I’m the Inspector-General.”

“Oh, okay,” said Bucky. His genetic arm gave him a hard head slap that confused Bucky more than usual just as he entered the Tunnel of Distractions. Inside the Tunnel he was quickly surrounded by darkness and moving walls that created a maze. Suddenly a hammer came out of nowhere and bashed his toe, and then a fierce blizzard-like wind nearly knocked him over. Bucky thought he was nearly finished when he heard the voices of dozens of toddlers all asking inane questions like ‘Why?’ and ‘How come?’ and ‘Are we there, yet?’. But Bucky was really distracted by an abundance of shiny objects. He finally left the Tunnel in a daze, mumbling things like “Pretty” and “So shiny”.

“Over here,” yelled Herman. “I found more of the imprints, this way.”

They moved beyond the rides and attractions to the living area of the carnies. They passed the cook tent and headed down a row of wagons. In front of one wagon, they met a short, rotund man who was nervously inspecting his wagon and equipment. It was Waldo, The Human Cannonball.

“Hey, Waldo,” said Bucky. “Have you seen a big, black monster with eight tentacles come this way?”

“No, but I heard a loud squeaking sound,” said Waldo, “that’s why I’m checking my props. I can’t afford to have anyone messing with them.”

Once again Bucky’s genetically engineered arm began moving on its own. It tapped Herman on his shell and then pointed at the business end of Waldo’s Atomic Cannon. Herman immediately understood and motioned for Bucky and Waldo to huddle up. In the huddle the three of them whispered a lot and motioned with their hands and claws. Finally, they reached agreement and Bucky and the inspector headed back to the Big Top tent.

“Herman, did you find the Dirtpie or do I start snapping off heads?” asked the crab queen.

“I believe we can avoid bloodshed, your holiness,” said the inspector.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to some bloodshed. So have you already slain the assassin?”

“No, no, my queen, if my theory is correct, we should be able to give you the Dirtpie totally intact.”

At that moment Waldo entered the tent with his Atomic Cannon. It took him only a minute to set the firing mechanism and adjust the range. When he was ready, he nodded to Bucky who picked up an axe and ran to the horizontal net on the far end of the tent.

Everyone expected a long drum roll, but the band left a long time ago, so Waldo just shrugged and pressed the firing button. There was an explosion and a bit of smoke then a black blur flew through the air. The Dirtpie’s arms flailed about but couldn’t grasp anything until it landed in the net across the tent. Just as it hit, Bucky used his axe to cut the corners of the net and thereby entangle the creature in an inescapable trap.

Deep, guttural roars came from the monster as it thrashed about. Stone crab soldiers surrounded it and poked the beast with their spears. Horseshoe crabs placed barnacles around the net to hold it down. A cheer rose from the royal entourage. The queen was pleased.

“Herman, you’ve done a good job,” said the queen. “My bard is working on a ballad about how I beat this Dirtpie with a single appendage. I will have him include your name somewhere in the song. Now what kind of horrible torture shall I render on this eight-armed attacker?”

“Wait, mighty crab ruler,” called the beast, “if you spare my life, I will name the one that hired me to assassinate you.”

“A traitor?” exclaimed the queen. “Tell me who it is, and you can live.”

The tip of a tentacle poked through the mesh of the net and pointed across the tent. The Dirtpie said, “The fiddler crab over there.”

Salty jumped back and looked nervously between the monster and the queen. “No, no, he’s lying. It’s not me!” Then he turned sideways and started running out of the tent, but Bucky grabbed him by his big claw and held him until the stone crab soldiers took him. As the fiddler crab was dragged away, Bucky put his hands on his hips and stuck out his tongue.

“We’ll sort this out later,” said the queen. “As for the carnival, I give it my royal approval. You may continue your performances on Crustacea.”

After much bowing and applause, the Crab Queen limped away, and everyone turned their attention to Bucky. The carnies were patting Bucky on the back and stroking his modified arm.

“My dear boy,” said Verbal, “you have saved the day. Nay, you have saved all of us! We are in your debt. Now, everyone prepare for the general public because we have a show in less than an hour.”

THE END

Bio: George Schaade is a retired history teacher that loves writing science fiction and humor. His stories often reflect the comic books and pulp magazines that he was raised on.

E-mail: George Schaade

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