Sarah stomped out across the patio, angrily wiping her hands on the bottom of her apron, as Stan stood in the middle of the veg patch, his shovel long forgotten.
“Fuckin’ what?!” she spat. “I’m in th’ middla dinner…!”
“Shut yer bollocks and just look!”
Sarah rolled her eyes and glared at the soggy, dirt-ridden ground. “Dirt,” she scowled. “You brought me out here for dirt?”
“Don’t be so wet!” Stan growled, “Look there!”
Exasperated, Sarah followed Stan’s dirty finger and saw a strange, pulsating mass writhing in the dirt. “What the…?”
“I dunno!” Stan cried. “I just dug it up.”
Sarah reached out and the thought better of it. she grabbed Stan’s shovel and tentatively poked at the throbbing, slimy mass, which rippled with a shiver.
“D’yah think…” the words died in Sarah’s mouth as the slimy ball lashed out, whipping up the length of the shovel with a number of slug-like tentacles.
Sarah screamed and tossed the shovel aside just as the tentacles clenched around it, snapping it in two. Stan moved to urge her away and one of them snaked around his ankle, corroding the skin, and he tumbled to his knees in pain.
“Git up! Gitthefuckup!” Sarah bellowed, tugging on Stan’s arm as the slimy mass began to crawl up his calf, eating away his flesh as it went.
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