Maury knew the cops were after him. He was breaking into seafood stores and freeing the lobsters. He couldn't deal with their plight. It didn't stop there. His apartment was home for crabs, snails and oysters.
They were quiet, unlike his former anteater, who honked for food. His place smelled less than sweet, but Maury could care less.
As the lobsters aged, he fitted them with adult diapers. His biggest challenge was getting the clams to open up and express some emotion. An obnoxious crawfish tried to mate with one of the crabs and ate a snail.
Sometimes Maury would get lucky at a bar and bring a woman home. These narrow minded women could not grasp his compassion for these beasts. It wasn't as though he were breeding skunks.
So he spent lots of time in his recliner petting several clams on his lap, whispering loving words.
Once, a lobster bit off one of his toes, but he had nine more. It's all good, he thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment