The Claws of Muddy Hallows

Every now and then, my friend GM, tells me to write a brief story based on something simple. This story was based upon the name “Michael Fists.” Enjoy.

“Remove your dry snout from my wet loins, Sir Butterface,” exclaimed the boisterous brute known as Michael Fists to his trusty Llama companion. The herculean punching hero was vacationing in Muddy Hallows and clearly drunk on Coconut Rum.

“I’ll never find a busty woman with your anchovy breath seeped deeply in my man area! Be gone, foul beast!” Fists banished the Llama with his proclamation and added a jab to the nose for good measure. Sir Butterface begrudgingly slumped toward Muddy Forest and disappeared into the night.

It was a night that quickly grew cold for Michael Fists without the warm fur of his Llama. Fists passed the wee hours at the Dirty Hamper Saloon by challenging locals to punching contests that ranged from wooden board smash-a-thons to large melon explode-y games.

Hoping to secure a pair of large melons to call his pillow for the night – Fists propositioned tavern waitress, Mary McGallon. “Permit me to rest my noggin’ upon your bosom or I’ll punch your hair off,” Fists threatened and grabbed the busty woman.

“Remove your drunk paws from my hallowed chest, Mr. Fists,” McGallon demanded. Fists was taken aback at the familiarity of her request yet couldn’t pinpoint its origin. Unperturbed, Fists continued his pursuit when McGallon pushed him away and cried, “Be gone, foul beast!”

With that, Fists crumbled to the floor in an enormous heap of man flesh. The realization that his trusty Llama, Sir Butterface, was gone of his own drunken temper was too much to bear and the furious punch rampage of Michael Fists began.

Buildings? Punched. Trees? Punched. Fruit? Punched.

Despite the tornado of punching, there was one four-legged punching bag that remained unpunched and that was Sir Butterface – the Llama. Weeks of punching went by and MIchael’s fists swelled to an unimaginable size (estimates range from two centimeters to twenty gablillion meters).

His infamous hands slowly formed into the shape of lobster claws and became forever crippled. The talents of Michael Fists were punched away until he was left a shell of his former self.

In desperate need of a new career, he turned to the only available avenue for large men with lobster claws – the circus. It just so happened that Boris Wackingsly’s Wild World of Weirdos was passing through town and recently lost Carl The Amazing Crab Man in a bizarre water park accident.

Fists, whose name would soon change to Claws at the demand of Wackingsly – was hired on the spot.

Circus life was what you’d expect – bean-eating contests every morning, beard-growing competitions every night. There was one aspect, however, Claws did not expect.

“Swing the rings around your freak-neck or get back in the cage!” barked Burpo – the surly animal trainer. But no threat from Burpo could cheer up the sad animal he was hired to train. Burpo tied him up to a nearby post and stormed into Wackingsly’s trailer as Claws was trying to fill out paperwork but kept snapping pencils in half.

“I can’t work with that unreasonable creature! It’s me or him, Wackingsly!” Burpo dropped his ultimatum on the boss.

“Fine, fine – cut him loose,” Wackingsly casually replied. When Claws failed to move a massive muscle, Wackingsly turned and shouted, “You! Claws! Put those freak hands to use and cut the creature loose!”

Accepting his new role as freakshow lackey, Claws left to do the bidding of his boss. When he reached the animal, however, Claws froze in place.

“Sir…Sir Butterface? You are the unreasonable creature that wacky man spoke of?” Claws asked.

Sir Butterface, the beloved Llama of Michael Fists immediately noticed the deformed hands of his former owner and rubbed his sad, dry snout on his claws.

“I punched mountains in half when I lost you – and my hands have paid that price. Let’s leave this circus and start life anew.” Claws snipped the chain that locked his beloved Llama and rode him out of the circus.

They spent their remaining years without contests, punchings, or taking orders from circus freaks. All the mighty duo needed was companionship and the occasional piece of fruit that Claws snipped off the trees of Muddy Hallows.

THE END