Where once my dreams were prosaic and bereft of qualities that could be described as imaginative, I must now admit to restless and fitful short bursts of sleep haunted by a fearful keening that at once ices the spine and penetrates the soul.
It was an unfortunate decision, made after a long and tedious funding meeting of the science department staff that lasted well after midnight, to seek after sustenance at the dingy yet rustic eatery perched at the edge of the swamp across the road from our Miskatonic University offices. I was struck with trepidation as we entered the establishment, the doors did not seem to swing inward as much as twist away as if the very geometry of the place was somehow all wrong. Most of our group didnt seem to notice as they were busy in discussion, and my strange presentiment bade me hold my silence. We seated ourselves at linoleum topped tables banded with a curious and clever aluminium alloy, the same alloy that capped the condiment receptacles, that seemed to glow greenish in the corner of ones eye yet reflected light in a perfectly normal way when ones vision was directed toward it. The menus were indeed the strangest artifacts. With a script not unlike that in the fabled tome written by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred, the desriptions of the dishes were written in a style that closely resembled the prose of The King In Yellow, the print almost seemed to squirm before me, causing me to squint in order to clear my eyes, and instantly removing any desire to eat in this international house of the damned. I ordered an Evian and left it at that. I was told later that my escape was effected by my collegues Howard and Phillips, both of whom sat at my table. Of the rest only three others survived and I know that this scene was played out in the same brand of restaurants in Arkham and Innsmouth, both of which, like the one near the Miskatonic, were burned to the ground that very night. Halfway through the meal, Paebody of the geology department, was stricken and turned gray as december on Mt Erbon. A few professors came from other tables, when he began to shake and retch, thinking he was having a seisure. Paebody began to scream, a long agonizing wail that was cut off when he began to vomit, though vomit is not an accurate way to describe the atrocity that befell him. From Paebodys mouth ejected a clear slime-like gel, but instead of flying outward and spreading away from Paebody the gel-slime sprungback and covered his head and at once began to dissolve his skin. Paebody, obviously suffocating reached toward his face to clear his mouth, but when he touched the gel his hands stuck fast and they to began to dissolve. Someone next to him, Durham I think, grabbed Paebodys elbow in a futile attempt to be of assistance, and the glob jumped the gap between them and began to eat Durham. Everyone was frozen with shock and terror, muscles locked and brains paralysed with numbing fear. Suddenly the blob shot out pseudopods towards those nearby with blinding speed destroying their flesh while the gel spread and grew at an alarming pace. Then the cook and the waitstaff, obvious products of inbreeding, with their frog-like faces with eyes set far to wide began their erie chant. As one, as if with one mind, their voices shrill and chilling, they sang out: "Rooty Tooty, Fresh and Fruity.......Rooty Tooty, Fresh and Fruity..." I make my meals on a hotplate in my room at the boarding house. I dont think I could bring myself to eat out. xponent Punch Line Maru rob
