Sci-Fi Shorts

Superpalooza

A/N - The prompts for this story were 'superhuman', Nickelback and the song 'Give Up the Funk' by Parliament.  Don't look at me, I didn't come up with them.  Just over 4000 words.

Oscar looked at the portaloo. The portaloo looked at him. Or at least it seemed to look at him. Sitting in the moonlight, quietly steaming in its very own ever-expanding quagmire of unspeakableness, he could almost believe that it was leering smugly at him. Go on, tough boy, it seemed to say. Think you're man enough to brave a music festival portaloo? Is your bladder really that full? Are you really that hard-core?

The nine cups of Begyle Blonde he'd consumed assured him that he was. Taking the biggest breath he could, he gritted his teeth and made a run for it. Step, step, squelch, squelch, fumble with door, push door, realise it's a puller, pull door, enter, shut door, lock door, discover lock is broken, wedge foot against door, fumble with zip, unzip, release kraken, and then, finally—sweet, sweet relief. The only question was whether he'd run out of breath or urine first.

He was just about to find out when the light came. The doorway was framed by an intense green light, as were the edges of the ceiling, and even the interior of the toilet bowl shone with an unearthly chartreuse luminescence. Startled, Oscar took an inadvertent breath, and so shocked was he by its contents, that before he realised what he was doing, he took another one.

His eyes crossed and he staggered. His lungs suggested another breath but his brain politely told them to sod off, as oxygen deprivation was undoubtedly a better option than whatever the hell those last two breaths had contained. Unwedging his foot, Oscar was just about to make a run for fresh(er) air, when the pulse hit.

The light became a conflagration, as a wave of pure energy drove him to the floor. This was bad, but was made immeasurably worse by the structural breakdown of the portaloo itself. The walls split, the ceiling fragmented and the toilet bowl shattered. As the energy wave peaked, Oscar's body was awash with an indescribable cocktail of bodily wastes, toilet deodorant and a truly bewildering array of half-metabolised drugs, remarkably few of which were of the prescription variety.

Powered by the mysterious energy of the pulse, hitherto unknown chemical reactions fizzed and bubbled around and within Oscar. He twitched as rogue electrical signals flowed through his synapses and bizarre new substances fused with his body and altered his DNA. The energy wave only lasted a few seconds, but the effects were profound. Oscar would never be the same.

In the aftermath, a steady rain began to fall. Dazed, Oscar turned his face skywards, allowing the rain to wash it clean. After a few minutes of recovery, he unsteadily climbed to his feet and looked around.

The moon infused the rain clouds with a sullen grey light and as far as the eye could see groggy festival-goers were getting up off the ground. The multiple stages of the festival had gone dark and apart from the sound of the rain, and the groans of the fallen, silence reigned.

But then, from the darkness, a single guitar chord cut through the night. A spotlight lanced up into the dark sky. Thousands of heads turned toward the beacon, and as one, seemingly without conscious volition, the masses began to move in its direction. As more chords rang out, the festival-goers increased their pace.

Caught up in the movement of the crowd, Oscar soon realised that the spotlight emanated from a stage, seemingly the only one to still have power. Through the rain, he could see there was a band on stage. The lead singer stepped forward, microphone in hand.

Well it's midnight, damn right, we're wound up too tight
I've got a fist full of whiskey, the bottle just bit me
Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh
That shit makes me bat shit crazy
We've got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out