Feeding Frenzy (Watty Award Winner)

Ducky, The Other White Meat: Chapter Thirty-Two

As his brain started to thaw, Ducky noticed the cop's movements were swift and sure. If he had been in a daze before, like Professor Rudolph, that was over. He seemed normal, except when he put Ducky into handcuffs, and their hands touched. The cop's fingers were cold as the pond, like a dead man walking.

Looking out the back of the police cruiser at the tow truck operator, and the man in a wet suit hooking up the back end of his car, Ducky had to wonder. How many of these seemingly normal people were infected? Maybe the riot police who surrounded the campus were part of the conspiracy. They had arrived awfully quickly after the food fight.

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At the police station, Ducky shivered a long time, handcuffed to a hard bench while they processed him. From there, they took him to a solitary cell. He wasn't offered food, even though it felt long past lunchtime.

It was weird, being in a prison cell. There was a stainless steel toilet without a lid. On the floor beside it, a quarter roll of toilet paper had gotten wet and warped, hopefully with water. There was a solid door with a small window in it, and a narrow, steel platform jutting out from the wall he supposed was the bed.

Naturally, Ducky wondered if the holding cell would make a good film location. It was perfectly stark, colourless, and depressing, but unfortunately too cramped to fit a film crew. He'd need a much bigger room to recreate the claustrophobic feel of this narrow space. Ducky paced. They said they were holding him for reckless driving, but hadn't asked him to make a statement, or offered him a phone call. From time to time, officers would pass his door and peek in the window. It didn't make him nervous, until the last one looked Ducky up and down slowly, a drop of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

How long could they keep him without contacting a lawyer? Ducky had surrendered his phone at the front desk, so he didn't know the time, but his stomach announced it was many hours since breakfast. He tried banging the door, but nobody came. Feeling weak from low blood sugar, Ducky decided to nap on the steel shelf. He was just lying back, wishing he still had a blanket, when a tall, puffy-faced officer unlocked the door. He ordered him out, then walked him along the corridor to a cage-like cell, housing three other men.

"Can't I go back where I was?"

"No. We're extra crispy, uh, busy, today." The officer looked away from Ducky's gaze, then down at his shoes. Ducky feared whatever happened next might belong in a viral video, but never be seen.

At the beginning, the other prisoners ignored him. He sat on a bench and watched them beg every passing officer for lunch, which never came. They might as well have been starving POWs in a war movie. Nobody was concerned with their rights.

Just then, a cop walked down the corridor with a box of donuts. The prisoners started whistling and banging on the bars.

"Don't go, Sweet Things!" the fat one moaned.

"I could eat you all up," said the skinny one.

The big guy rolled his eyes and grabbed at his stomach, making obscene chewing sounds.

When their wolf whistles got no reaction, they shouted abuse after the retreating guard.

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After lights out, the day's dark comedy morphed into a suspense movie, where sinister inmates drooled and stared at him. The skinny guy had big eyes and long scraggly hair that hung past his shoulders, like the ears of a beagle. The fat one looked more like a couch potato than a criminal, but his hungry stare gave Ducky a shiver. The big guy was a head taller than Ducky, and built like Zeus. Every time he moved, the others jostled to keep away, bringing him closer to Ducky.

It was creepy, but manageable, until Skinny Dog took a bite of Mr. Potato. Screams, wails, fists and feet flew as Zeus joined in. Ducky could never recreate this chaos with actors. How could they simulate the prisoners' grimaces and cruel laughter as they grabbed, bit, mauled, and chewed each other?

Zeus, who had taken the most bites, turned his drooling attentions to the newest prisoner. Ducky fled into a corner, covering himself with his arms and legs, until someone grabbed his neck and he realized he would have to fight. Sitting in a shark tank, it's best not to wait like a helpless piece of chum. Ducky stood, shoving Zeus hard, but failing to budge him.

Zeus laughed. "You look tender and I want sushi."

"Go find a fish."

"I'm looking at one."

Ducky planned his strategy, based on extensive Kung Fu movie viewing. "Well, are you going to make a move, or are we going to stand around, talking about it?" He was fired up in a new way. Ducky squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest.

Laughter sounded out of the dark. It was hard to see much of Zeus, just a tower of pumped up flesh, a murderous eye glint, and a dark stain around the mouth.

Ducky put his fists up. "You want me? Come get me."

"You talk big for a little boy."

Ducky did the 'come closer' gesture with his left hand, like he'd seen in a hundred movies, never thinking someday it would be him egging on an opponent.

The big guy threw a punch and Ducky bobbed left, balanced on the balls of his feet. The man came at him again, but this time when Ducky weaved away, the big guy kept going, stepping into the corner behind Ducky, and throwing a punch at his kidneys. Ducky turned to face his attacker, but found himself fighting with his back to the slathering, biting pair who had started it all.

Bad odds. One-on-one, he might have dodged this big guy's fists, but now? As he backed away Zeus's teeth flashed, a smile in the dark. From behind, somebody grabbed Ducky's shoulder and took a bite.

"What do you say, Boys?" Zeus said. "He's scrawny, but there's enough to go 'round. Dig in!"

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Soooo, I rewrote Feeding Frenzy for publication and the question has come up. Does this chapter go too far? 

Want to read the revised and published finished version? Read it for free on Ream. https://reamstories.com/maaja

Thanks for reading!

Maaja