The Fleeting and Meaningless Advent of Gunga Dam

[This is another installment of my failures: The pieces I did on another site(s)that didn't quite cut it. Granted, I didn't try hard to make it work. But, anyway, here goes.]

 

Who He Is

He was big, hairy, always wet with perspiration, high-strung and hungry, and no one knew what to do about him. Cumbersome and vicious, he thrashed at the snack table, eating up everything in reach, and everything was in reach.
On-lookers were horrified, but he was oblivious. He had an appetite both for consuming and destruction; a horrible combination of greed and waste; using up everything in sight, man or object, and tossing them aside when his arrogance got its fill.

What To Do

I certainly wasn't sure what to do. Petrified, I could do nothing but observe him, hoping to get a clue as to what he was, where he came from and what he was up to. The most noticeable feature of this monster was the dim light in his eyes, a terrifying feature that added to the horror we were experiencing. My mother had entered the room, and quickly grabbed me and threw me behind her.

Conclusion

I didn't know what to expect. She ran to an end table, opened the drawer to get the flashlight. She shot light into the eyes of the Behemoth, which he immediately retracted from as he cowered and hid his face with his gnarled hands. She screamed out a gut wrenching cry and chased him out the door, flashlight in hand, as he fled in fear.

She turned to me and said, "See, son, it's good to know a second language."