I can’t help it. I haven’t been this amused with a made-up animal since the Sky Shark.
Landsquid took his mug of cocoa and his box of Cheez-Its and padded over to the kitchen table, ready to have a nutritious breakfast. He had a full day planned. His arch-nemesis, the Alpaca, was having a tea party, and there were scones to be made before hand. Not the kind with fruit in them, though. That was a bit too evil for Landsquid.
He set his meal down and settled down into his chair. As he reached for the cocoa, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but decided it was a trick of his imagination.
After a few sips of delicious liquid chocolate, he reached a tentacle for the Cheez-Its. That’s when the first one attacked. Landsquid paused at the sudden pressure on his head, then yelped as it bit down on one fin, Cheez-Its scattering everywhere. The second dropped directly into his cocoa, spilling it over the cracker-y mess. The third landed in the kitchen sink inexplicably.
“Ceiling turtles!” he cried, waving his tentacles furiously.
“Kkkkkkkkk,” said the ceiling turtles. The one covered in cocoa started eating his Cheez-Its.
Oh, that would not do.
Landsquid grabbed the box of Cheez-Its and went in search of his phone. It wasn’t on the kitchen counter. It’s wasn’t on his desk. It wasn’t even in the refrigerator. (The oddest things ended up in the refrigerator.)
The ceiling turtles came for him, crawling across the floor.
It also wasn’t in the dining room, on his dresser, or under his bed. Landsquid rubbed one fin in frustration. The ceiling turtles continued their way across the kitchen floor.
Finally, the phone was discovered in the third drawer under the sink in the second bathroom. Landsquid dialed information and was connected to a local exterminator.
“Ceiling turtles,” he said.
“Sorry, man,” said the exterminator. “There’s been a shortage of essence of myrtle lately. You’re screwed.”
The turtles had almost made it the kitchen door.
Landsquid hung up the phone and shut the kitchen door. There was a very slow scratching against the bottom. What was he to do? He’d always heard it was hard to get rid of ceiling turtles once they moved in. Maybe he’d just sell the house.
There was a near-silent sound of tiny, scaly feet beginning an ascent up the wall.
They were in there with his cocoa and Cheez-Its. Drastic measures were needed.
After a thorough search of the house, he returned, bearing a bucket, an old cat calendar, and a broomstick. It was silent in the kitchen. The turtles could be anywhere. Gathering his supplies in one hand, Landsquid slid the door open. His head remained turtle-free.
A quick survey of the room revealed one turtle in his Cheez-Its box. The other two were in the sink. What was with the sink? Maybe he should clean it more often.
Wielding his broomstick, he poked the turtle out of his delicious snacks. It hissed at him, but Landsquid dropped the bucket over it and slid the calendar underneath. He flipped the bucket over and received a satisfying turtle shell thunk for his effort.
He repeated the process for the two in the sink. The ceiling turtles hissed and scratched at the inside of the bucket, but the worn plastic held.
It was harder to get the bucket out of the sink, but then Landsquid took his captives out the back and dropped them over the fence into his neighbor’s, the Alpaca’s, yard.
That ought to make the tea party more interesting.
Landsquid took his bucket back inside, humming, and sat back down to his now slightly-soggy breakfast. He reached a tentacle for his cocoa.
That’s when the ceiling turtle attacked.