by Gavril Salazar
They emerged without warning. Their attack was without mercy. The unspeakable events following their wake will not soon be forgotten by their prey.
I curse the day we saw the Veeps.
The Gold Coast Pirate Festival was preparing to close on its final day. We had just finished counting the coins we had earned for the weekend. Nikolai, Vasili, Petr, and myself were discussing the best way to strike the encampment. Then two figures ran towards us.
All I could see were legs, enourmous and armless torsos, and small heads with floppy horns. They were running through one of the pirate encampments chattering "Veep! Veep! Veep!"
"Oh my God. They're Veeps!" Petr exclaimed.
A large, hairy Veeps had been known to terrorize gaming sessions. A typical Veep victim had accumulated less than three hours of sleep over a two day period. Witnesses to the Veep's attack claimed it would hover over them chattering "Veep!" until they got out of their beds. By then the Veep had disappeared, undoubtedly searching for fresh victims.
This was the first known sighting at a Renaissance festival event.
We did not dwell on the incident at the time. The vehicles were loaded, with Rakin's truck so full of stuff it was impossible for the driver to see anything behind him. I am not certain what exactly happened next, but Rakin's eyes suddenly widened in panic as he abruptly shifted his truck into reverse and merged into the front grill of Vasili's wagon.
"There was something in front of me," Rakin said later. "It looked like two guys without arms! They were jumping up and down in front of me. I couldn't hit them."
I didn't see anything at the time. But I became a believer during our long trip home.
We were just starting the arduous climb up the mountain separating Ventura from Los Angeles Counties when Rakin's truck started bouncing violently. Since Rakin's stereo was blaring a group called Primus wailing about "Too many puppies," I just attributed the sensation to frayed nerves. The bouncing did not stop.
I looked behind at the load we were carrying. There was something alive in the truck be! A small head was attempting to chew through the ropes keeping our load intact. It stopped and glared at me mischeviously. The head opened to reveal a set of small pointed teeth.
"Veeeeep!"
Petr suddenly appeared behind us, flashing his brights and pounding his horn. The Veep hissed toward Petr and snagged a pillow between its teeth. The creature disappeared as the pillow careened of Petr's windshield.
The remainder of the trip was thankfully uneventful. We soon found ourselves crashed in the living room of gypsy central, retelling the evening's events. Did we really see the Veeps, or were they a product of our overactive, sleep-depraved imagination? It took one more incident to convince us.
Saviya and I volunteered to retrieve food. After much debate we decided to offer Del Taco our patronage. I should have guessed something was amiss when I had to repeat our order to the drive-thru attendant three times.
As we pulled up to the drive-thru window, we could hear the noises we had learned to dread. A strange figure was hunched over the area where our food was being prepared. It had a large spoon protruding from its mouth spreading "meat filling" for a soft taco. Another suddenly appeared in front of the cash register, punching the buttons with its nose.
"Veep! Veep! Veep! VEEEEEEEEEEEP!"
We departed very quickly. It was only when we pulled into gypsy central's driveway that we discoevered there was a bag of food. Saviya was so startled she spilled two drinks. The contents of the bag revealed almost everything we ordered. Petr and Saviya breavely set forth to retrieve the forgotten items. There was no sign of the Veeps when they returned to the Del Taco.
I submit to you, skeptical reader, that the events I have described are true. Vasili is now receiving an estimate for the damage to his vehicle, Rakin has lost his camping pillow, and I am about to attempt to remove the spilled soda stains from my car's upholstery. We can find no evidence of the Veeps, and some of us are now attributing the events to bad luck and brain deadness.
Yet I lie awake dreading the next time I am at faire managing only a few hours of sleep. You should also be ever wary. The Veeps will strike again.
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