Prompt and Circumstance

Bloodthirsty

('mad science' Oct. 28-30, 2016)

"Glad to see you made it home safely, son." George waited on the front verandah. The night-light glowed above, seeming brighter than usual - like a beacon in the surrounding darkness. It was George's favourite place of late. He took special enjoyment, knowing how fleeting life can be. "How did it go, then?"

"Ohh Dad. It was awesome," Morgan said as he settled down next to George. "You know how I worried I wouldn't be able to perform through the whole night? And how you thought I might not even get through the first part? I know you worried they wouldn't like me and it would all be over before I hardly started... but you worried unnecessarily. I was great!" George couldn't hide a satisfied smile. Chip off the old block, he thought proudly. Breeding wins the day (or night) every time!

Morgan wriggled with excitement, reliving each exciting and terrifying moment. It hadn't been easy to face his very first time without someone who loved him nearby, but he'd known his destiny was to perform with courage and the strongest belief in himself and all who had come (and gone) before him.

"Many were SO overcome with my performance they had to leave and find refuge somewhere else to fully express all the emotion they were feeling. If it hadn't been for their almost continuous waving to me and clapping, I might have worried I wasn't doing my job properly." Morgan touched his father lovingly. "Without your guidance, Dad, I'd have been nothing. I owe it all to you," and he couldn't help a sniff.

"Now hang on there, son." George blushed and his voice gruffened up with pride... and embarrassment. "Let's not forget your mother's part in all this. Why, I remember when—" and he stopped as Morgan settled even closer to him, then continued, "... when your mother had you and your siblings. She wasn't sure at first whether she was pregnant or not. She wanted to be, and she should have been. I'd uhrr... done the fun part well enough... hmm, actually VERY well, even if I say so myself!" And he preened a little, before continuing.

"Trouble was, she'd gorged on a drunk (you know how females of our kind L-O-V-E beer? A scientifically proven fact), and she thought it possible she'd inherited his beer belly." George sighed mightily. "Thankfully, the maddest of scientists researched that one after poor old Rita Skeeter hit a hemorrhoid, blew up like a cane toad and exploded into oblivion... their findings put the possibility to rest. " He brushed away a tear. "Just between you and me, my boy... I'm eternally grateful that it's only our females who drink blood. We fellows are vegetarians... thanks be to the Great Mozzie Mike, high in the sky above!"

"Ohh," and Morgan's eyes widened. "Is it? Could it be?'

"What, son?"

"That he's the one the posters advertised? The posters that said -

WANTED - Dead or Alive
Malaria Mike
alias Amos Quito.