Revenge of the Space Bulls
Inspired by a piece of art at the Comptroller's office of a mechanical bull with glowing red eyes breathing fire out its nose. No seriously, there really is such a painting.
Chris looked at the headline on the paper again. He was dreaming, had to be. Because there was no way this could be real.
Sure enough, there it read: Mechanical Bull Goes Haywire, Destroys Mississippi Bar.
But it wasn’t just the headline that made Chris double take. It was the picture of the aftermath that accompanied the story. This wasn’t just any mechanical bull. It was one of the bulls they had used on the Pop Odyssey tour. In fact, Chris had distinct recollections of Lance selling his bull to that very bar.
The story recounted that the bull had suddenly started bucking uncontrollably, and the operator had been unable to regain control. Sparks then began flying out its nose, setting the bar on fire. The picture showed the remains of the bar, with the bull still in tact in the middle of the ashes. Witnesses had described seeing the bull’s eyes glow bright red just before the bar burst into flames.
Chris had one of those bulls in his garage. He was more than just a little bit frightened.
Chris decided to authenticate the story by calling someone he knew. Someone who wouldn’t immediately deem him crazy for suspecting sabotage. Thank god JC was available.
“Hey, JC have you read the newspaper today?” Chris asked.
“Nah,” JC replied. “But I have had CNN on all morning. Israel is fighting with Palestine again.”
Damn JC and his CNN. Chris never understood why anyone would want to watch continuous coverage of the middle east blowing each other up. Maybe JC thought Anderson Cooper was hot or something. “You haven’t heard anything about what happened in Mississippi?”
“No,” JC said. “What happened in Mississippi?”
“The space bulls man. The one Lance sold to a bar, it went nuts last night.”
“What the fuck are you talking about Chris?”
“The mechanical bulls from our tour years ago. One of them had like, electrical problems or something and burnt down a bar.”
Chris heard the distinct sound of JC laughing on the other hand. “It was breathing fire out its nose JC,” Chris said. JC laughed harder.
“Man, like, I feel bad for those people in the bar and everything, but that’s pretty hilarious Chris.”
“Seriously JC, what if it’s like, sabotage or something? Those bulls, man...”
JC continued laughing. “Sabotage? Chris, they’re just machines. I know you think they were possessed or whatever, but seriously, they don’t have minds of their own. That thing’s old, it was bound to break down at some point.”
“What’d you do with your bull?” Chris asked.
“It was just an accident Chris,” JC said, then he hung up.
So Chris forgot about the Mississippi bar incident. Or at least tried to. Until another article appeared in the paper a week later. A model spaceship at the Orlando Museum of Technology had been severely damaged, and the museum was offering a reward for any information on the vandals. A picture appeared of the damaged ship. In the background, Chris spotted it: another mechanical bull.
Joey had donated it to the museum after the tour. He’d been on an educational kick after Briahna was born and gave away the bull in the name of children’s education. Chris wasn’t sure what a bunch of kids could learn from a mechanical bull, but there was no talking Joey out of anything. The museum had actually taken it, so Chris guessed there had to be some educational value in it somewhere. He knew better than to ask questions.
The way the bull seemed to be lurking in the background surveying the damage, it creeped Chris out. There was no way this was a coincidence.
“The bulls are out to get us.”
“I..what? What are you talking about Chris?” JC asked.
“The bulls, man. One of them destroyed a space ship.”
“You mean the thing at the museum? Mechanical bulls don’t just get up and slice into rockets Chris. It’s bolted to the ground.” Chris could hear JC’s eyes rolling. But he knew something was going on, and had to convince somebody.
“What if it like, sliced it open with lasers?”
“Lasers?”
“Yeah, lasers. From those crazy red eyes. They had lasers in them, didn’t they?”
“Chris, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Where’s Justin’s bull?” Chris needed to know before anything else got destroyed.
“He scrapped it for parts. Said it’d chaffed his crotch so much, he didn’t want to see the damn thing again.”
Figures Justin would do something like that. Scrapping a collectible because it had pissed him off. Though considering the current circumstances, it didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore. One less bull to worry about.
“Where’s yours, JC?” Chris asked.
“Chris.”
“Look, JC, I’m telling you, these things are out for revenge or something.”
“Goodbye Chris.” JC hung up.
Two weeks went by without another incident. Chris was beginning to think JC was right, that this was all just a couple crazy coincidences, and that he was losing his mind. Then word got out about another burnt bar in Mississippi. Apparently the bull there had been repaired by mechanics, given the go-ahead, and reinstalled in another bar. Promptly two days later, it had started sparking again and caught fire to the liquor supply. A full scale recall of mechanical bulls was being conducted in response to the incident. Chris thought it was time to take action of his own.
Instead of calling JC, Chris went out to his garage. There stood his mechanical bull, just as he had left it. Nothing in the garage looked like it had exploded; he took that as a good sign.
Chris looked directly into its beady red eyes. “Alright bull. What is it you want?” The bull didn’t do anything. Chris figured he looked pretty ridiculous, interrogating a mechanical bull. He’d almost have to mock himself for it later. But dammit if they hadn’t started this, and Chris didn’t feel like having his house blown up.
“Okay fine. We’ll just take you for a ride and see what happens.” It was probably a really stupid idea, considering. But a few broken bones might be worth preventing a hostile bull takeover. Chris mounted the bull and flipped the on switch. The bull creaked a little bit, then started rocking in slow and steady motion. It spun and swayed just as it should, until the one minute alotted by the tour technicians had expended, and the bull ground slowly to a halt. Chris scowled at it. He didn’t want any severe bodily injuries, but he wanted the damn thing to do something.
Chris wondered what it took to piss off a mechanical bull. Chris got off the bull and gave it a swift kick. It made his foot hurt like hell, but it apparently did nothing to the bull. Chris glared into its beady eyes again. “Is anything I do going to piss you off?” Chris asked. The bull did nothing. “What did those poor people at the bar ever do, huh? And the museum? Seriously, a museum? That’s really not cool. It’s not about Justin scrapping one of you, is it?” The bull still did nothing. “I don’t know what JC did with his, but just so you know, I’m warning him to watch out.”
Chris swore he saw its eyes turn red.
“JC, what did you with your mechanical bull?”
JC sighed. “Chris, how many times have you asked me this?”
“And how many times have you answered me? None. You give it to the CIA or something? Spill.” If JC didn’t say anything, Chris was going to have to go kick his ass. For the greater good, of course.
“I um...it’s in my basment.”
“Your basement? How’d you manage to get it down there?” Chris didn’t know how he’d even fit it through the front door. Those things were massive.
“I had it installed when they built the house. I use it. Occassionally.”
“For what?” Chris asked. Drunken parties was his suspicion. That tended to happen with the one in Chris’ garage.
“I uh...I get off. On it. I mean, not like anything gross, but I ride it..a bit rough. Like Lance in the uh, Pop Odyssey footage, kind of. It’s nothing bad.”
Chris did not even have the words to respond to that.
“Look, I know it sounds weird and all, but like, it’s not about the bull.”
“The feel of metal between your thighs? Get a motorcycle JC.”
“No, no,” JC responded. “It’s not about that either. It’s just...” JC sighed. “I get these images. Of um, you. Of your strip tease..from the Pop Odssey tour. And I know it came right after Space Cowboy, and the bull was just the closest thing I had to associate with that. I got rid of my sparkly chaps a long time ago.”
Chris was dumbfounded, to say the least. JC was using his mechanical bull to jerk off. While thinking about Chris. Chris cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t think the bull appreciates that very much.”
“Yea, I’ve kinda gotten that feeling.”
“You got that feeling? You mean to tell me you’ve suspected all along about the incidents…”
“They’re machines Chris, come on, they’re not interconnected or anything. That one in Mississippi just broke down because of overuse. They’re mechanical bulls, they’re not capable of conspiracies.”
Chris shook his head. Knowing his luck, Chris’ bull would freak out next. “You should still stop. Those things man, you never know.”
“What do you suggest I do then, huh?”
Chris had exactly the solution in mind. Something to put an end to this mechanical bull nonsense. “I still have my sparkly chaps.”
Chris looked at the headline on the paper again. He was dreaming, had to be. Because there was no way this could be real.
Sure enough, there it read: Mechanical Bull Goes Haywire, Destroys Mississippi Bar.
But it wasn’t just the headline that made Chris double take. It was the picture of the aftermath that accompanied the story. This wasn’t just any mechanical bull. It was one of the bulls they had used on the Pop Odyssey tour. In fact, Chris had distinct recollections of Lance selling his bull to that very bar.
The story recounted that the bull had suddenly started bucking uncontrollably, and the operator had been unable to regain control. Sparks then began flying out its nose, setting the bar on fire. The picture showed the remains of the bar, with the bull still in tact in the middle of the ashes. Witnesses had described seeing the bull’s eyes glow bright red just before the bar burst into flames.
Chris had one of those bulls in his garage. He was more than just a little bit frightened.
Chris decided to authenticate the story by calling someone he knew. Someone who wouldn’t immediately deem him crazy for suspecting sabotage. Thank god JC was available.
“Hey, JC have you read the newspaper today?” Chris asked.
“Nah,” JC replied. “But I have had CNN on all morning. Israel is fighting with Palestine again.”
Damn JC and his CNN. Chris never understood why anyone would want to watch continuous coverage of the middle east blowing each other up. Maybe JC thought Anderson Cooper was hot or something. “You haven’t heard anything about what happened in Mississippi?”
“No,” JC said. “What happened in Mississippi?”
“The space bulls man. The one Lance sold to a bar, it went nuts last night.”
“What the fuck are you talking about Chris?”
“The mechanical bulls from our tour years ago. One of them had like, electrical problems or something and burnt down a bar.”
Chris heard the distinct sound of JC laughing on the other hand. “It was breathing fire out its nose JC,” Chris said. JC laughed harder.
“Man, like, I feel bad for those people in the bar and everything, but that’s pretty hilarious Chris.”
“Seriously JC, what if it’s like, sabotage or something? Those bulls, man...”
JC continued laughing. “Sabotage? Chris, they’re just machines. I know you think they were possessed or whatever, but seriously, they don’t have minds of their own. That thing’s old, it was bound to break down at some point.”
“What’d you do with your bull?” Chris asked.
“It was just an accident Chris,” JC said, then he hung up.
So Chris forgot about the Mississippi bar incident. Or at least tried to. Until another article appeared in the paper a week later. A model spaceship at the Orlando Museum of Technology had been severely damaged, and the museum was offering a reward for any information on the vandals. A picture appeared of the damaged ship. In the background, Chris spotted it: another mechanical bull.
Joey had donated it to the museum after the tour. He’d been on an educational kick after Briahna was born and gave away the bull in the name of children’s education. Chris wasn’t sure what a bunch of kids could learn from a mechanical bull, but there was no talking Joey out of anything. The museum had actually taken it, so Chris guessed there had to be some educational value in it somewhere. He knew better than to ask questions.
The way the bull seemed to be lurking in the background surveying the damage, it creeped Chris out. There was no way this was a coincidence.
“The bulls are out to get us.”
“I..what? What are you talking about Chris?” JC asked.
“The bulls, man. One of them destroyed a space ship.”
“You mean the thing at the museum? Mechanical bulls don’t just get up and slice into rockets Chris. It’s bolted to the ground.” Chris could hear JC’s eyes rolling. But he knew something was going on, and had to convince somebody.
“What if it like, sliced it open with lasers?”
“Lasers?”
“Yeah, lasers. From those crazy red eyes. They had lasers in them, didn’t they?”
“Chris, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Where’s Justin’s bull?” Chris needed to know before anything else got destroyed.
“He scrapped it for parts. Said it’d chaffed his crotch so much, he didn’t want to see the damn thing again.”
Figures Justin would do something like that. Scrapping a collectible because it had pissed him off. Though considering the current circumstances, it didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore. One less bull to worry about.
“Where’s yours, JC?” Chris asked.
“Chris.”
“Look, JC, I’m telling you, these things are out for revenge or something.”
“Goodbye Chris.” JC hung up.
Two weeks went by without another incident. Chris was beginning to think JC was right, that this was all just a couple crazy coincidences, and that he was losing his mind. Then word got out about another burnt bar in Mississippi. Apparently the bull there had been repaired by mechanics, given the go-ahead, and reinstalled in another bar. Promptly two days later, it had started sparking again and caught fire to the liquor supply. A full scale recall of mechanical bulls was being conducted in response to the incident. Chris thought it was time to take action of his own.
Instead of calling JC, Chris went out to his garage. There stood his mechanical bull, just as he had left it. Nothing in the garage looked like it had exploded; he took that as a good sign.
Chris looked directly into its beady red eyes. “Alright bull. What is it you want?” The bull didn’t do anything. Chris figured he looked pretty ridiculous, interrogating a mechanical bull. He’d almost have to mock himself for it later. But dammit if they hadn’t started this, and Chris didn’t feel like having his house blown up.
“Okay fine. We’ll just take you for a ride and see what happens.” It was probably a really stupid idea, considering. But a few broken bones might be worth preventing a hostile bull takeover. Chris mounted the bull and flipped the on switch. The bull creaked a little bit, then started rocking in slow and steady motion. It spun and swayed just as it should, until the one minute alotted by the tour technicians had expended, and the bull ground slowly to a halt. Chris scowled at it. He didn’t want any severe bodily injuries, but he wanted the damn thing to do something.
Chris wondered what it took to piss off a mechanical bull. Chris got off the bull and gave it a swift kick. It made his foot hurt like hell, but it apparently did nothing to the bull. Chris glared into its beady eyes again. “Is anything I do going to piss you off?” Chris asked. The bull did nothing. “What did those poor people at the bar ever do, huh? And the museum? Seriously, a museum? That’s really not cool. It’s not about Justin scrapping one of you, is it?” The bull still did nothing. “I don’t know what JC did with his, but just so you know, I’m warning him to watch out.”
Chris swore he saw its eyes turn red.
“JC, what did you with your mechanical bull?”
JC sighed. “Chris, how many times have you asked me this?”
“And how many times have you answered me? None. You give it to the CIA or something? Spill.” If JC didn’t say anything, Chris was going to have to go kick his ass. For the greater good, of course.
“I um...it’s in my basment.”
“Your basement? How’d you manage to get it down there?” Chris didn’t know how he’d even fit it through the front door. Those things were massive.
“I had it installed when they built the house. I use it. Occassionally.”
“For what?” Chris asked. Drunken parties was his suspicion. That tended to happen with the one in Chris’ garage.
“I uh...I get off. On it. I mean, not like anything gross, but I ride it..a bit rough. Like Lance in the uh, Pop Odyssey footage, kind of. It’s nothing bad.”
Chris did not even have the words to respond to that.
“Look, I know it sounds weird and all, but like, it’s not about the bull.”
“The feel of metal between your thighs? Get a motorcycle JC.”
“No, no,” JC responded. “It’s not about that either. It’s just...” JC sighed. “I get these images. Of um, you. Of your strip tease..from the Pop Odssey tour. And I know it came right after Space Cowboy, and the bull was just the closest thing I had to associate with that. I got rid of my sparkly chaps a long time ago.”
Chris was dumbfounded, to say the least. JC was using his mechanical bull to jerk off. While thinking about Chris. Chris cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t think the bull appreciates that very much.”
“Yea, I’ve kinda gotten that feeling.”
“You got that feeling? You mean to tell me you’ve suspected all along about the incidents…”
“They’re machines Chris, come on, they’re not interconnected or anything. That one in Mississippi just broke down because of overuse. They’re mechanical bulls, they’re not capable of conspiracies.”
Chris shook his head. Knowing his luck, Chris’ bull would freak out next. “You should still stop. Those things man, you never know.”
“What do you suggest I do then, huh?”
Chris had exactly the solution in mind. Something to put an end to this mechanical bull nonsense. “I still have my sparkly chaps.”