The Final 3

Noah woke up. He was tired, and just maybe a little hungover. He couldn't remember. You can't blame the guy... he drank a lot. It was probably due to the fact that no one else was drinking. Noah did invent wine after all. It hadn't made him much money, but he foresaw it making him and the misses pretty comfy in the future (tragically, he was seeing a tiny bit TOO far into the future).

Anyhow; Noah woke up. He was smelly and his head was waging violent war against his perceptions of reality. A voice boomed. The voice filled every nook and cranny of his being. The voice was his wife's.

"Noah, there's a message for you on the machine."

He mumbled something and kissed his wife on the forehead before slowly getting out of bed to find some coffee. He sat on the edge of the bed for a long while, just sat, not distracted, not confused, just sitting. He didn't want to move very much because the universe seemed to be doing a great deal of that on it's* own. Slowly he stood, slippered his feet and put on his worn-out old bathrobe. It was red.

Noah rubbed his chin. It was a well hidden chin. His beard had covered it for a good 150 some odd years. White, long, thick and undoubtedly masculine. A beard amongst beards.

He set up the percolator and set it about it's* business. It cheerfully complied in it's* no nonsense manner and got to making coffee. As the percolator percolated Noah listened to the message his wife had reminded him of.

As a note, this message as absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Noah being hungover. He considered that for a long while. This was a bona fide phone message.

"Noah. Hello. The world is much to wicked. You, yourself, aren't that wonderful. Noah. You aren't bad though. You've got an iota of good in there. More than that actually. Thank you. On account of the world's wickedness I'm going drown everyone. Not the animals. I rather like them. They're nice. Not wicked. The plants aren't wicked either. I need you to build a boat... A rather large one. A boat to hold two of every animal on the planet for 40 days and 40 nights. You'll build the boat, gather the animals and then set to sea... or the waters... do to the massive flooding I'm looking to instigate they should be easy to find. After the 40 days and nights your boat, the Ark, will be charged with reseeding, a bit, I'll help a lot too. I like a good weekend project. Thank you much Noah."

Noah blinked. Noah sighed. After he had finished two cups of coffee Noah set to his task, still wearing his bathrobe.

In a few weeks time Noah had completed building the Ark and gathering all of the remaining animals, accept for three.

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Noah consulted his list of animals. He was very satisfied with how many checkmarks he saw. He ran his finger along the massive bit of parchment (it had taken nearly three entire herds of sheep to make this list) looking for the next animal to coral. There it was. The checkless entry.

"Next up, two dragons." Noah annonced to nobody inparticular. A female sloth gurggled in response though.

Noah set out to a cave that he knew was a favorite haunt to a pair of honeymooning dragons. The cave was a brilliant one. It wasn't dark and gross. No damp dead smells emminated from it. No cool breazes blew from it. It was a pleasent cave. He stood in it's* mouth and shouted a greeting to see if anyone was about. A grumbly response came as a teal tail moved a bit, catching the light. Noah began to explain why he was paying the lovely couple a visit as the first few drops of rain began to fall. The dragons wouldn't have anything to do with Noah or his floating "death box" as they so eruditely refered to it. They explained how they had just seen a documentary on icebergs and they new that such things were only destined to end in tears. Tears which wouldn't be noticed on account of being cried underneath hundreds and thousaunds of gallons of water.

Noah tried. He pleaded. He even went as far as to leave, findhimself a goofy pair of glasses with an attatched nose and chin (to hide his beard), and pretend to try to award the couple a free cruise! The dragons didn't fall for it. They were done with Noah. Dejectedly Noah walked from the homely cave. The rain became more steady.

As Noah walked away he became slightly paniced. Panic led to franticness. Franticness led to overwhelming guilt. He knew he had to get control of himself. He was doing what he could. He took his list from the tube he ketp slung on his back. He scanned it looking for the next animal to gather. He found the next animal to be unicorns.

This worried him. Unicorns he knew to be awkward creatures. Their regal horn apparently had displaced any brains they might have had. They were entirly witless, very pointy creatures.

Noah set out to find himself a duo of unicorns. What he found however wasn't a duo of unicorns. What Noah found was a massacre. Blood, pearly white hair, guts, pancreatic juices and horns... Before Noah lay a dozen or so dying unicorns. The rain was now falling heavily. The water was washing all the bits of unicorn into a thick rainbow slury of doom.

As the rain began the creatures had become excited and begun to play in the mud. As the first few peals of thunder were layed out the creatures were driven to maddness. The result was this field of liquid unicorns. Of death.

Noah wasn't surprised. He sighed and wandered off to find a bucket or two. An hour or so latter Noah had filled a few buckets with what he considred about two unicorn's worth of goo. He set off for the Ark, two buckets of melted unicorn in hand.

After getting the liquified unicorns settled in their tanks Noah consulted his list. Only one animal remained. The platypus.

Next to the word PLATYPUS Noah's wife, who had been incharge of compiling the list as Noah made the Ark, had written:

Very strange. Males have venemous spurs. Females do not. Will be awkward to file onboard. Male on "stingy deck", female not? Females lay eggs, but also secreat milk. Both sex's also use electrolocation --- highly sensitive to electrical charges.

Noah sighed and wondered were to find these strange creatures. Not even wanting to think about how to sort them yet. After consulting a few texts Noah set out, in one hand a net on a very long pole, in the other a divided crate for two.

Noah walked to a nearby creek which was begining to look more like a very well established river. He sat on the bank a while whistling. A ripple blossmed accross the surface of the water near by to Noah. Like lightening -- Noah slamed his net into the water, groping at the epicenter of the distrubance. His catch was heavier than he was expecting. To his surprise he hadn't cought a fish. He hadn't cought a boot. He hadn't cought someother bit of floatsam or detritus. Noah had caught two platypus mid couitus. Noah let out a little sound of victory and carfully stowed his awkwardly venemous bundle.

It continued to rain.




* question: I say "it's"... meaning it possessing something... is that proper usage of the form it's? Or does it's mean it is? I am baffled by it and its and it's. Sorry for any confusion this may cause.