SPAM
by Rebecca Anne Renner
“S-P-A-M.”
The professor’s pointer slapped against a
poster magnetized to his chalkboard, its tip
spanking each letter as the auditorium heard them.
“A clever acronym for Space Pollution
As Meat.”
Not even
crickets chirped in response through the
classroom morgue.
“Spam,”
the professor said, his eyes drooping to match
those of his audience. “Ham-in-can? From
space? Anyone?” Still no response.
“Fine. If this topic doesn’t get your
attention as a lecture, I won’t give it!”
Cheeks were
pried off rows of desktops, and all attention was
called to the scientist caricature before them.
After angrily
stuffing a wad of unsorted papers into his
briefcase, the professor noticed his previously
sleep deprived class staring at him like confused
barn owls. “So, now I have your attention?”
he said, returning to gruffly stuffing.
“Aren’t
you going to teach today?”
“Oh,
I’m ‘going to teach today,’ but
not in this drowsy dormitory,” he answered
and slung the briefcase over his shoulder,
“We’re going to the crash site.”
Within the
matter of hours, a caravan of cars packed with
students filed out into the desert. The lead car
veered off the dusty road and screeched to a halt
on the edge of a gigantic crater.
The professor
jumped out and peered over the side. The swarm of
following cars slammed on their breaks when they
realized the desert floor dropped out in front of
them.
“Something
really did crash here!” one of the
students exclaimed as they all eagerly rushed
forward to greet their professor.
Startled by
the herd of students, the professor nearly lost
his balance into the huge hole. Luckily, he
straightened up and turned around. “Of
course something crashed here! Did you think I
was just talking so I could hear my own voice?!”
“There’s
something moving down there!” Once again,
the students completely ignored the existence of
their professor. Like a stampede of buffalo, the
entire class descended into the crater.
Against his
will, the professor was dragged down with the
crowd. “We haven’t performed extensive
enough studies. Who knows what it will do in the
presence of all these people!”
The students
gathered around a minute blob of speckled meat at
the center of the crater. It writhed and squirmed
as all the more people invaded its privacy.
“Don’t
get any closer!” The professor freed himself
from the swarm to jump between them and the alien
meat. Behind him, the speckled meat blob cooed.
“Aw!”
All of the girls in the crowd became enthralled
with the blob. “It’s so cute!”
They pushed
past the professor to poke and fondle to little
blob. In a flash, the blob slurped them in, one
by one, smacking, chewing as if the students were
bubblegum.
The remaining
boys tried to scramble up the steep sides of the
crater, but the spam blob rolled over them in a
vast trail of slime.
The professor
laughed and patted the blob of spam. “Serves
them right for not listening about pollution.”
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