Crab Bachelor Party

by bernquist

As a crab, he knew it was going to be a difficult if not altogether dreadful journey. Air travel is miserable enough for traditional passengers, but crab air travel….that’s a whole other story. The despair began at the security checkpoint. There is no designated line for crabs of course, and he wasn’t prominent enough to not be stepped on 3,000 times by the mindless human slurry that funneled through the ominous gauntlet of metal detectors. By the time he reached the end of the queue, three of his worthless legs were crushed and ruined, and actual uncooked crab meat dragged behind his battered corpse like a haphazard just-married trail of soup and concentrated milk cans. But this crab was resilient. He faced the TSA agents with a resoluteness only real crabs could understand. He was determined…that is…until TSA demanded that he remove his shell to be run through the X-ray machine. He had just finished molting 48 hours prior and he knew that this was going to be a major setback. Reluctantly he grasped his pathetic wooden shell with his useless crab pincers and pulled with all his might, but it was no use. With one of his arms already thoroughly butchered by the careless footfall of a 300 lb corpuscle enthusiast, he just didn’t have enough crab strength to get the job done. And then he saw it. Approaching from his left crab side to his profound dismay was the TSA agent who would make his already awful day ever so much worse. He was a short and stocky man with a receding hairline of the salt and pepper variety. He wore heavy wooden eyeglasses that hardly complemented his full wooden face, and his jowls hung around his mouth in a way that reminded the crab of a reckless wheat eating Bassett hound which had torn his face off with its gargantuan incisors some years back. The man’s eyes were small, dark, and spaced too close together giving him a menacing and foreboding appearance, an appearance that the crab was a little to familiar with. The man pulled out a pair of rusty red-handled needle-nose pliers and got to work strait off. As the crab screamed in unparalleled agony, the beady-eyed bastard ripped the shell off his crab back with real unbridled aggression, leaving a purposeless mass of crab innards exposed to the wooden elements. When the crab reached the other side of the accursed security zone and collected his crab wallet, crab iPhone, crab belt, crab laptop, crab carryon, tusk stump, and now absolutely decimated crab shell, he pondered: was this really worth it just to go to my crab bachelor party in Dallas Fort Worth??