Genocidal
Bastards
by Michael A. Kechula
World War Nine
broke out while I was inspecting the Doomsday
Shelter twenty miles below Area 51. I was
incommunicado for three days. During that time,
Martians staged a sneak attack, waged nuclear war,
won, and departed with the spoils.
I checked
nearby Las Vegas. No survivors. Horrors!
Besides me, the only other survivors were
cockroaches.
Fortunately,
the Doomsday Shelter had plentiful supplies.
Except for human companionship, life was normal.
Mornings, I
exercised in the gym built for 500,000 people.
Afternoons, I browsed the Shelter’s vast
library of a billion volumes. Time passed quickly.
But after six months, I found myself extremely
lonely.
Then I
discovered ten thousand books containing
photographs of every female cockroach in America.
The cover said they were printed by Royal Press,
by order of The King of American Cockroaches. The
printer’s address was a few blocks from
Caesar’s Palace Casino in Las Vegas.
Waving a white
flag, I approached the place. Suddenly, I was
surrounded by very nasty looking, heavily armed
cockroaches. “I come in peace,” I said.
“I wish to see your King.”
Recognizing
that I was human, they put away their weapons,
and shook my hand. Then they told me to lie on my
back. When I did, untold numbers crawled under me,
lifted me, and carried me into the royal chamber.
“Your
Highness,” I said, as they lowered me at the
foot of the King’s throne, “I’m
delighted to see you. And I’m pleased that
you and so many of your subjects survived.”
“We all
survived. Your scientists were right.”
“In what
way, Your Highness?”
“They
predicted that the only survivors of
thermonuclear war would be cockroaches. So, how
did you manage to stay alive, seeing that you
aren’t one of us?”
“I was
twenty miles below the surface inspecting the
Doomsday Shelter. When I came to the surface, I
saw bodies and destroyed buildings everywhere.
When I saw some of your kind scurrying around, I
knew there were other survivors.”
“So why
are you here?” he asked.
“I saw
your books in the Shelter’s library”
“Ah yes.
I had them published to show my beautiful female
subjects. I sent copies to all the casinos in
town, hoping they’d hire some as show girls.”
“I
can’t imagine why I never saw any on stage
at the casinos. Actually, that’s why
I’m here. I have an idea.”
We spoke for
hours. Then he ordered a beauty contest in which
only the most stunning of his subjects would
participate.
The contest
was held in what was left of Caesar’s Palace.
It rivaled any Miss America Contest I’d ever
seen. Seeing gorgeous female cockroaches posing
in swimsuits was something to behold.
I married the
winner.
We’ve
mated hourly to repopulate Earth. The cross-species
pollination is working. When we have sufficient
mutant offspring, I’ll build a humongous
army, nuclear weapons, and rocket ships. Then
we’ll get revenge.
Beware, you
genocidal Martian bastards! The cocka-humans are
coming to get you!
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