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Y is for Yodel-ay-hee-hoo

by on February 27, 2014

Last time, in the Catrina Chronicles, our heroine and her royal consort Perry found themselves facing off against Cthulhu yet again. Fortunately, Perry still had a magical Atlantean wand (actually a duplicate of a magic Atlantean wand, if one wants to get technical about it). With the wand, he conjured up a squad of military otters, who immediately set out to fight the dread menace….

“They’re going to be slaughtered!” Catrina said, watching in horror as the otter squad marched briskly towards the towering Cthulhu.

“I don’t know about that,” Perry said, trying to sound hopeful and not doing well at it. “The wand wouldn’t have summoned them if they couldn’t help. I’m sure they’ll do a real yeoman’s work at it…”

Catrina didn’t know how to respond to that; the wand was itself a clone of another wand, and maybe the cloning had gone all pear-shaped somehow. But she couldn’t tell Perry that, not without revealing that he was himself a clone of an Atlantean prince. She really didn’t want to go through all that again, especially since Perry’s magically suppressed Atlantean alter ego wasn’t in love with her at all. She wanted to have a nice, quiet, stable marriage, and Perry being his clone identity again was sure to put a damper on their relationship. Then she decided that she had a few more pressing concerns than the state of her marriage. Cthulhu had noticed the otters.

The slimy Lovecraftian horror gurgled in something that sounded almost, but not quite like laughter. The otter squadron kept bravely on, marching down onto the beach in full view of Cthulhu, not even bothering about taking cover. Catrina had a soft spot for animals; one generally does when one has been transmogrified into a newt, and pals around with sentient space hamsters. She couldn’t bear to think of what Cthulhu would do to them. Right,” she said, “I’m not standing around here watching those otters get smashed. You with me or not?”

“But…” said Perry. “Shouldn’t we wait a bit for-”

It was too late. Catrina’s question had been rhetorical. She was already charging off towards Cthulhu, yelling at the top of her lungs. She ran right past the startled otters. “‘Oi!” said their leader, the redoubtable Sir Lionel Webbington. “We’ve got ‘im well in ‘and, missie, y’ can’t just-”

But the princess was in an interrupting mood. She splashed into the water, waving frenetically in an attempt to draw Cthulhu’s attention. “Hey! Down here! Down here, you blasted slimeball!”

But Cthulhu was so intent on the otters that he simply didn’t give a thought to the yelling princess. He had fought the otters before, and believed they were the greater peril than a single mad young woman. He hadn’t even recognized her yet. Desperate to get his attention, Catrina did the first thing that came to mind. Actually, she did the second thing; the first thing that sprang to mind was waving a hat at him, but she didn’t have a one about her, not even so much as a yarmulke. So she did the next best thing. She yodeled.

“High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo…”

Still the hulking menace didn’t notice her. She realized she had to switch songs. There had to be a song that would draw Cthulhu’s attention. Even now he was raising his tentacles high above the otters, ready to bring them down and squoosh the poor animals flat. Catrina had to stop it. It was like watching a lion run down a poor wounded gazelle….and then she knew.

“In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight….in the jungle, the quiet jungle the lion sleeps tonight….a-weeeeeeeeeee oooo eeeee oooo a pumbaa wum a waaaaay….”

It was the best yodeling she had ever done. She held that last note to such perfection and length that everyone, the otters, Perry, even Katrina stared at her in awe and wonder. Perry was even about to applaud. But as much as Catrina appreciated his support, she had something else to worry about. Cthulhu had, at long last, noticed her. His great tentacled head swerved towards her, and his luminous eyes fixed straight on her. It was then that Cthulhu recognized the yodeling princess. He had once tried to devour her outside the gates of Character Hell. He had been cheated of that by an interfering fleet of battle cruisers; now here was his chance come again.

The otherworldly monster gurgled something at her in horrific syllables.  Catrina didn’t have her R’lyehian-to-English dictionary to hand, and she never had been good with languages; she had flunked right out of Beginning Quenya. She was beginning to wonder if her author would ever live that down. “It’s not like I interact with Elves on a daily basis or anything…” she complained, as Cthulhu lumbered towards her. The closer he got, the more she realized, straining her neck to look at him, just how very, very big he was. And he didn’t look quite right either, as if he were looming at an angle from the ground, but even that didn’t make sense… “Oh yowza,” Catrina breathed as the ponderous green mountain lurched for her.

Her one chance lay in Mlrning, the Shovel of Thor. She raised it high above her head like a spear, and willed every last ounce of its wintry power at Cthulhu. A beam of intense white-cold light shot from the shovel and stabbed into the mountainous green mass. Cthulhu let out an incomprehensible sound of pain. Bits of him flew everywhere. A large sticky splotch landed right on Catrina. “Oh, ew!” she exclaimed. “That is uncalled for. You don’t have to splatter that green sticky stuff on me, y’know!”

She kept tight hold of the Shovel, though, as its blinding light swelled, and more ice-beams blasted into the monster. Cthulhu surged together, attempted to recombine, but the Shovel hammered icy blasts at him, freezing him into immobility.  Catrina waved the Shovel in triumph, and felt inspired to a sudden surge of oratory. “Listen up, you foul beastie you, I promised Susan to help track you down and send you back to Character Hell, and that’s just what I’ll do! You are a green and sticky menace, and I cast you out! Yowza!”

The Shovel flashed, and the great bulk of Cthulhu hurtled into the waves with an enormous splash. In another moment it was gone, descending into the watery depths from whence it had come. The world was saved once again.

‘Er, ma’am,” Sir Lionel said, “Not that I don’t appreciate the assist, but we really did have the situation well in ‘and. Or paw, as the case may be. I don’t see why we ‘ad to be brought ‘ere if you could’ve ‘andled it y’rself.”

“Story of my life,” Catrina sighed. “Story of my life.”

This has been another exciting episode of the Catrina Chronicles. For previous episodes, go here. To visit my Amazon page where you can find more stories about Catrina, go here. I’m also on Goodreads as well; wonderful site, that is. And, as always, thanks for reading.

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  1. The really hilarious thing is that I watched Thor: The Dark World this weekend (so much better than the first one, IMO) and every. corkin. time. Mjolnir came on screen I pictured someone else in the background waving around a damn shovel…

    • I agree; Thor 2 was brilliant. The violins in the Asgardian funeral scene alone….that should’ve won an Oscar.

      Also, I tend to be skittish about my stories being turned into movies, but I think I could compromise if someone wanted to put Mlrning in the Marvel universe. 😀

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