Facehugger Fiesta

jon bob stared at the notice on the door for what seemed like a second too long - "saturday night singles mixer," was hand written and then photocopied into chicken scratch on sheet of paper. it listed other things below the banner line, "free punch," "definitely fun," and "we assure you there is no danger at this mixer," and finally, "it's like a fiesta!"  

he sighed deeply. it had been a long, lonely road of love for him. this was his 6th mixer this week and they were all adding up. who knows how many times he could say his accounting punchline, "whose accounting for what?" to straight-faced women who had no time for his need to return to childhood. his need to be mothered. he skirted that truth in his head as he pushed open the door.

the hallway behind the door was a bit strange. it had been set up in spooky, bony decor with some hidden fog machine pumping in fog. Halloween was only a week away and he thought to himself, "they must run a haunted house in between mixers." humid and warm, he felt more comfortable than he had in a long time. it had been a cold summer, a colder, somehow colorless fall, and he just wanted to be cocooned in blankets. it almost looked like the walls were glistening and there were spooky human statues mounted behind the walls bony decor. he whistled slowly and kept walking. 

passing through the hallway doors, jon bob found himself in a dimly lit room. small, bar-height tables were setup in a circle and keeping with the theme there were large, egg-like objects on top of them. people milled about the free punch standing just far enough to see each other but not talk to each other. he sighed again and really really hoped that this would be the time he'd find someone to love him like his mother had. 

a small bell tinged and everyone started to walk towards the tables. it seemed like everyone were old hands at the mixing game. jon bob noticed a banner over the doorway that once again iterated that this was like a "fiesta."  he sidled up to a table and drummed his fingers until a lady with mousy brown hair edged forward after the rest of the tables had been filled. 

jon bob started to clear his throat and as he did so he noticed the egg move and what seemed like lips curled open at the top. as if on cue someone had pressed play on an antiquated boombox and chittering latin trumpets filled the room with festive music. he seemed to notice fingers quivering their way out of the egg-shaped thing. 

he turned his head and thought, "what an interesting mixer this turned out to be..." and was promptly hugged about the face and the world turned to black. 

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jon bob awoke slowly. he was mounted on the wall with warm slime and some sort of bone-ish substance. he felt pregnant and he initially recoiled at the thought. then a slow, happy smile crossed his face.

he was going to be a mother...

Danish Pale Lager | 5.0% ABV