The Lupacabran

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

The other day I was out running in the woods when I got kidnapped by a flying saucer crewed by an advanced intergalactic race. They informed me that humanity did not originate on earth, but Chu’uta; a distant planet orbiting a dying star. As a species we were transported so that we would not be wiped out by a supernova.

That was 2 million years ago, and our lease is up.

There is another race of beings called Lupacabrans currently surrounding a distant dying star. The aliens who kidnapped me are contemplating destroying humanity so the Lupacabrans may settle here (apparently we are considered a failed experiment. I don’t know why.)

According to the aliens, Bruce Springsteen was right. We are born to run. I am told that we evolved our intelligence not from tool use, or opposable thumbs, but from hunting. We evolved as persistence hunters. Our ancestors lost their protective body hair, much of their fast twitch musculature, gained large gluteus maximus, and a whole set of muscles to keep our head steady when we ran. We are the only creature on the planet that can run enormous distances in the heat of the day, chasing our prey into heat prostration and we sacrificed much else to attain this evolutionary specialty.

Persistence hunting, the aliens say is one of the three main paths to intelligence, as major success can be gained from teamwork and rudimentary tools (clubs.)

They didn’t tell me what the other two paths are.

The Lupacabrans are also persistence hunters.

I am now being transported to a specially designed asteroid where I will compete with a similarly kidnapped Lupacabran. The winner’s species will get the earth. The loser’s will be destroyed.

The competition will be in the form of a race across varied terrain inhabited by diverse animals to simulate a persistence hunting environment. It will be extremely dangerous.

The race will cover 437 miles. The first one across the finish line wins. There are no other rules, but there are conditions:

I was given an energy to matter pouch. This pouch gets worn around the waste and will produce a variety of foods and drinks as well as medical supplies and stimulants upon demand. Much of it was preprogrammed but I was allowed to choose a few specialty items. A food item, a beverage item and a medical item. I chose Reese’s peanut butter cups, gatorade and cocaine (I remembered that scene in Papillon where those guys ran for a long time chewing cocoa leaves.)

I was given something they called a skinsuit. It will supposedly protect me from environmental extremes and act as a kind of compression bandage should I get injured.

I was allowed to keep my New Balance running shoes.

I was allowed to choose a group back on earth to communicate with from time to time to gain insight, moral support and advice. I thought about choosing NASA or MENSA or the Rand foundation or DARPA, but at the time I still thought this was all a dream so I chose the SDMB. I’m sensing this may have been a critical mistake, but we’ll see. They gave me this internet tablet thingie that folds up as light and thin as a tissue. Good connection though!

If anybody doubts me, one of the Mods or admins should check my IP. They can confirm that I am posting from an internet address located outside the solar system.

I get to choose one more item. A weapon, either passive or aggressive (I think this means offense or defense.) The rule here is strict. It may not be a projectile or other stand-off, kill at a distance item. Other than that, I’m free to choose.

I’m thinking of something like a combination Samurai sword/lightsaber. Anyway, I have to choose by tomorrow. Than there is some kind of ceremony and meal where I get to meat the Lupacabran. They say we will be made to understand each other so that we may communicate if we so choose.

Anyway, I’m gonna need some help and advice over the next week or so. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to post as I guess I’ll be running a lot. I could use the help.

Any general thoughts and advice? What about the weapon? Lightsaber, right?

Oh, and let’s keep this serious because if I lose we all die.

Thanks in advance.
-Scylla

2

Love this line.

As far as a weapon goes, look around. Can you construct some sort of rudimentary lathe?

3

They tell me all I have to do is say what I want and they’ll make it for me.

4

Others might have better suggestions - but I’d say go with what you’re comfortable with. Regardless of what your hosts say, I think one of our important strengths is that we’re good with tools - weapons are just one kind of tool - and we’re possibly not all that bright, but we do have our moments of canny. Part of me says ‘anything sharp’ but another part says something says ‘something light and versatile - maybe rope.’ Um… go with the knife.

Did I mention treachery? We’re good at that, too. Go with your strengths. Good fortune and good hunting.

5

I think the light saber is a wise choice.

Perhaps you can modify it in some way though? Something that may catch your opponent by surprise?
And peanut butter cups? Really?
Should have gone with Dog food or something if nutrition is going to be an issue.

6

El chupacabra? Dude you’re boned.

7

I believe in Scylla. He won’t let us down, no matter how badass this bra-wearing chupac thing is.

I say go with the light saber, as long as it has a safety. Don’t want that thing turning on in your pocket while you’re running.

And you chose SDMB over DARPA? Is that the cocaine talking?

8

Any weapon you want as long as it is not a projectile weapon huh? Well, here on terra firma, motorized vehicles cause quite a few deaths, more than enough to qualify as a rather agressive but clumsy weapon.

I would suggest a Honda or Kawasaki dirt bike, something fast and flexible.

Good luck, kick that leprachan in his lucky charms, show 'em who’s The Boss.

9

If you die, can I have your peanut butter cups?

Regards,
Shodan

10

C’mon now, you’re a good dude, Scylla, don’t be so hard on yourself.

11

For your weapon tell them you need authentic, made in China, Aqua Dots. Change your food to pure sugar. Coat the Aqua Dots in sugar, feed them to your opponent as a sign of goodwill. When it passes out, slit its throat.

Or choose a Swiss Army knife as your weapon and use it to make yourself a projectile weapon like a bow and arrow. And don’t disregard your environment either. I once saw a documentary of a man who was forced into hand-to-hand combat against a physically superior alien. Rather than get beat up he used his wits and made use of the copius amounts of native sulfur and raw diamonds to fashion a crude blunderbuss with which he blasted his opponent into the the netherworld.

12

Plus, if your shirt gets torn up a bit, you will be a shoe in to score with one of the kidnapping aliens. Providing of course that her skin is green.

13

I say you take Cthulu. He counts as a weapon, right? RIGHT?

14

If you get to meat the Lupacabran at this ceremony, it sounds like you may have already won.

I think you should ask for a blimp as your weapon.

15

I am currently sitting in a cave, bleeding and eating a Reese’s cup.

I asked for a lightsaber, and had to explain it. The advanced intergalactic aliens were kind of speechless for a moment or two.

“We had thought your race had advanced far enough to understand that light travels in a beam and diffuses. It does not simply stop.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But I kind of thought you guys could kind of make it stop with your advanced science and what-have-you.”

“Why must it be light?”

“Cause that would be kind of cool. But if that’s too much trouble, I understand.”

“We will produce you a weapon. You can tell us if it is acceptable.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

Fifteen minutes later I had the Chainsword. It is easily the coolest thing ever. It’s simply a hilt with two buttons. When you depress the first button a long wicked blade telescopes out of it like an antennae. This is surrounded on the cutting surface by a thin ultra-sharp chain. Push the second button and the chain spins wicked fast. A forcef-field deploys which they tell me is invulnerable and stops the sword from breaking or the chain from needing sharpening… ever.

They also added a safety feature. The sword is coded to my DNA. If the cutting edge gets within a millimeter of my skin the field extends and softens… so I can’t cut myself.

They thought they should put that in because I didn’t know that light just doesn’t stop.

With the field on, it kind of looks like a lightsaber.

This thing is one nasty bitch. So, I decided to name it Meredith… for personal reasons.

The Lupacabran is basically a werewolf. Standing on two legs it’s about nine feet tall, all short hair and gristle with oversized jaws and bright intelligent eyes. On all fours, it’s head is just about even with mine.

I’m basically fucked. We all are.

I stood in front of the aliens with the Lupacabran on a pedestal. Several other pedestals arose, showing previously defeated races. There was a Neanderthal, some sort of lizard thing, a fish (it took one of the other routes to intelligence I guess,) and a dinosaur looking thingie.

I still can’t believe the fish beat the dinosaur, must have gotten lucky.

I was interviewed, and poked over by some kind of monitoring device while the alien equivalent of Jim McKay commented on this or that portion of my physiology. They were really big on the articulation of my ankles and the balls of my feet, and they seem to consider it a big disadvantage that I will soil myself if I defecate while running.

Then they showed us the path to follow and that was it, we were off. The Lupacabran disappeared ahead at like 500 miles an hour and I started jogging. About four hours later the Lupacabran appeared. I guess he’d been waiting for me to catch up.

I stopped, whipped out Meredith and turned her on, so she sang with pleasure (not something I could have done with her namesake.)

“I would speak with you meatbag,” it said.

“Ok.” I replied.

“My name,” it said, “Garr-arral.”

“I’m Aloysius.”

“What does your name mean?” It asked.

“It’s just my name.”

“What is it’s symbolism? What does it imply of your nature?”

“Aloysius was a saint, a holy person. Actually, I think he’s been decanonized.”

“You mean to say his importance is being doubted anew?”

“Yes.”

“What did your namesake do to her earn disputed importance?”

“Ummm. Well, Aloysius is, or was, the patron saint of young martyrs.”

“I don’t understand,” said Gar.

“He got killed when he was young because of something he was trying to do.”

“Your namesake is honored because he was easy to kill and died quickly.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Why was I training to explain religion to Cujo?

“This is fortuitous. My name means “kills first.” I think we were destined for each other. I will kill you quickly so you and I are both honored for adhering to our namings.”

“Ummm,” I thought quickly. “The Saint was not the Aloysius I was named for. I was named after this other Aloysius. Anybody that tried to kill this other Aloysius just suddenly and mysteriously died. That’s the one I was named after.”

“Then I shall not try to kill you,” said Garl.

“That’s good.”

“Yes. I will let you bleed to death,” and it leaped.

I swung Meredith in a wild intercepting arc. Right before contact Garl’s whole body was suddenly encased in a force-field mirroring Meredith’s. I guess that was the “Weapon” he chose. The good news was that he couldn’t seem to move while so defensively encased, but he had a lot of momentum going and barrelled into me knocking me over.

I tried to get up and reach for the chainsword, but Garl recovered quicker and sunk his teeth deep into the ball of my shoulder joint. He held for a moment and we met eyes. Then he shook his head once and I screamed at the rending of flesh. Letting go, he loped up the trail.

I got the sword and crawled into this cave. My skinsuit seems to have healed itself and is holding my shoulder together by means of compression, but blood keeps coming out of the bottom of it.

I keep trying to get my pack to dispense medical supplies, but all I get is Reese’s cups. and what looks like a white suppository (cocaine?)

If I don’t do something soon, I think were doomed. Well, more doomed. Any ideas?

16

First suggestion: Meredith sounds like she’d be one hell of a great logging tool. You haven’t mentioned anything about the environment you’re running through. Is it possible that you can set up a deadfall, or rockslide to immobilize Garr-arral? (assuming his force-field thing will protect him from anything - not just Meredith.)

If you can immobilize him, you (and we) are home free.

Another question: Can he swim?

17

The environment is woodsy, and the plants are all slightly odd but almost familiar. It’s hot and dry.
I don’t know about swimming or deadfalls.

I kind of half this problem with my shoulder

18

I know. I am brainstorming, and frankly, I can’t think of anything to try for your shoulder.

19

There’s some giant ants with big pincer like things on them. They seem content to consume the excess Reeses cups. The suppository seems to be the cocaine. It crumbles up into a white powder pretty easily.

20

Do you have a trout? You could set up a trout cannon.