Introduction to the “sweats”

Posted: November 28, 2012 by ebtherabbit in Story
Tags: , ,

The aliens bastards came from far away. They said they were here for the gambling, but EB thought they were here for another reason. EB was going to find out what it was, even if he had to kill every one of them to find out.

The aliens flew in the night before on an old inter-galactic red-eye. The kind of flight where no one looks to close. Mostly because they don’t care and often because they don’t want to know.

Just another group of half-drunken tentacled lecherous aliens.

Never mind the acidic smell that assaults your nose when you get within 100 cubits of them, the polyp eyes that assault your sense of well-being or the sticky ichor dripping off of their malformed tentacles and malodorous bodies. No, just another weary day in Vegas where cash is king and few if any questions are asked.

The aliens lurched their way into the casino, tentacle limbs waving cash around as honey to bees. Already the hookers of the more desperate variety were starting gather near the alien group. The sick look of dread plastered on their near plastic faces, looking for that drink, fix or whatever twisted high they needed most. The aliens wanted them for their human bodies never considering beauty, to do things they couldn’t get away with in their part of the galaxy. Most of the time anyway…

The casino staff quickly provided a private gaming room for the aliens. A spacious room as a group of aliens waving around cash were always welcomed on the strip. The aliens bastards were known as sweats to most of the denizens of Vegas as they were always oozing some king of acidic mucus across their bodies. EB made a point of never being too near them as their smell was quite a bit above noxious. The aliens racial name EB couldn’t pronounce if he tried (which he didn’t), but in Vegas they were officially known as visitors XTC. Few of the aliens could actually speak in any human tongue anyway and mostly relied on human translators when they could get them.

Again, the common folk just called them sweats. Good enough thought EB.

The aliens sat down on stools that accommodated their large and malodorous bodies with three legs comfortably. If the aliens were uncomfortable, no one really new as they never complained about where they parked their stinking fat alien butts. But complain? My gods they complained. About the heat, about the games, about the girls, about the weather and just about anything else that came within the aliens visual range. Once the group of aliens were seated, the house quickly started games of Monty, Black jack and three card stud, lead by humans that were entirely too comfortable with the screaming terror that sat before them. Cards in tentacles expertly held and dealt with deadly proficiently. The casino dealers having to work to beat hard to beat the aliens at the house games.

EB stood near the door by a large plant watching all of this and waiting to make his move. He did not want to scare them off before he found out what nefarious deeds they were here to accomplish. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait to long as the “sweats” were notoriously impatient in words and deeds.

A short fat ugly pugnacious runt of a man came in though a small side door. He stumped over to the one of the larger “sweats” and whispered into his longitudinal sound acquisition organ. The large sweat seemed to sway with pleasure as he listened. The reached into his bag and pulled out a whip like device. EB had recovered one of these devices from a sweat that had tried to stop a 40 cal bullet with his face and was unsuccessful a few years ago. The N-whip like device caused excruciating neural pain, while no actual damage to the human. The sweats liked to use them on the girls because they didn’t like to pay for the goods they damaged. Cheap bastards.

A group of 13 young slightly attractive girls stood talking among themselves trying not to think about what was to come. The sweat with the N-whip device started toward the girls. As the sweaty alien approach the girls, it thumbed an activation stub on the device. Instantly an electric sheen covered the N-whip. The girls flinched away from the sweat, but were cornered by the place they had chosen to stand. It didn’t matter anyway thought EB, this is why the came to this place. To make money for the rent, the next fix, a free drink or what ever escape they needed from the harsh life of Vegas.

The sweat swung the N-whip back and flailed it across the girls. The N-whip end of the device was somewhat prehensile and it latched onto a young girl. Her screams filled the room as the other hookers backed away from the screaming girl. The sweat just continued to leer at the girl as she screamed. Sucking in the screams of pain like a balm to its murderous heart.

EB couldn’t take the girl’s scream any longer.With his Beretta 40 cal in his right hand, a benchmade war spec blade in his left, and  he leaped forward. Slashing through the N-whip causing it to short out and send feedback that caused the sweat to dance a bit with the electric shock. As EB’s leap carried him through the air time seemed to slow for EB. He carefully place three 40 cal rounds from his Beretta 96A1 into the sweat’s torso causing to be yanked backwards and slammed to the floor.

EB always mindful of the ladies, didn’t want to cause the spray of grey blood from the sweat to land on them.

The other sweats jerked around, their globulus fat shaking as a multitude of the aliens reached for hidden weapon. EB fired another three 40 cal rounds causing multiple sweats to explode with great gouts of grey blood, torn organs and disgusting alien viscera to splatter across the remaining sweats and the not so clean walls of the casino. The shaped charges in the tips of the 40 cal round EB used had only been tested at the gun range. Seeing the sweats explode in a cloud of grey blood and organs put a small smile of EB’s rabbit lips. The remaining sweats had dropped their weapons and were stumbling for any escape route they could find. EB fired another round into the floor behind them helping to “motivate them” a bit more. The sweats ran as a much as a sweat is able, to escape the clutches of death that nipped at their alien motile pod like leg tentacles.

EB looked around and gathered the sweats dropped weapons for further examination back at his lair. Today a few less sweats would get their cheap twisted thrills in Vegas. EB walked over to where the girls stood weeping softly. He bent down and help one girl to her feet. She seemed to be in shock from the N-whip touch. EB reach across to a bottle of cheap whisky and poured three fingers into a dirty glass. “Drink this” he said. The girl took a drink and started to cough. As the whiskey started warm her, she snapped out of the daze she was in. “What’s your name kid” EB asked. “Jenn” she said. Jenn took another drink of the whiskey and made a face. “It needs ice” EB said. Jenn looked at the six foot three inch rabbit and nodded. “Thank you. I though I was going to die” Jenn said. “Those horrible bastards just wanted to hurt us”. EB looked at her and said “That’s what they do. It’s who they are. Rotten bastards that travel from the other side of the Galactic plane just to inflict pain on another living being”. “No more” he said. Jenn looked at EB, took his hand still wrapped around the big black Beretta and said “Thanks. You are my savior”. EB looking back at her, eyes far away replied “No. Just a rabbit with a gun…”

She hugged EB and whispered thanks.

Comments
  1. HellKitten says:

    To start off with, I’d like to go to the version of Vegas where people don’t see or care the aliens. Seriously, I need to plan a trip.
    I love love love the name “the sweats”. It is just fantastic. It brings me into the edge of hysterical terror, if that makes any sense. It makes me think of laughing to keep the fear away. Perfection. I bet they are also called sweats because they make everyone else sweat too.
    I enjoy how EB’s perspective is retained in third person. “A short fat ugly pugnacious runt of a man” made me chuckle out loud. The descriptions in this passage really help me see the gritty location. This is definitely not a casino I would want to visit in this life.
    Glad EB saved the girl. I also loved how he doesn’t want them to get dirty. Definitely a rabbit with the right priorities! I’m enjoying reading these.

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