Alanna the Piranha Chapter 14

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle once again to introduce the fourteenth chapter of my story Alanna the Piranha and wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way! Oh, what fun it is to ride in a rocket full of hay-a…!

Tucker, those are not the lyrics. It’s not a rocket full of hay. It’s a one-horse open sleigh.

I want to ride in a rocket full of hay. Branson, Bezos, Musk and Shatner all did.

There was no hay on those rockets and its one-horse open sleigh.

They did not fly in a one-horse open sleigh.

No one says they did! The lyrics to the song are a one-horse open sleigh.

Why did they take horses on the rocket?

They didn’t! They all rode in rockets and there were no horses on them! This has nothing to do with Jingle Bells!

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a rock band in a pear tree!

No, that was a television show not a song! You’re unbelievable!

Here is Gigi’s fourteenth chapter of Alanna the Piranha.

I’m supposed to say that you rotten mongrel! And Joyeux Noël!

Alanna the Piranha


Gigi the parti poodle

Day the Fourteenth

I measured the piranha with my mother’s measuring tape again today. Yesterday she had increased in size by one and a half inches. Today she has increased in both length and width by three inches. I can’t deny the CRISPR Cas9 shots are affecting her. I am trying to decide if I should continue to administer her shots at this point. I might try every forty-eight hours instead of every twenty-four.

The bunny, however, has not changed or grown at all. She remains the same fluffy ball of fur as when I first took her home. Patience, I tell myself. It’s going to require patience.

A lot of guys on have issues with agoraphobia. I have managed to avoid that affliction by making myself go out even after my darkest moments, like when I lost Josie. I am the self-appointed designated grocery shopper in my family. I am constantly going out to gather food, so I don’t stay in my room and stare at the walls.

Sometimes I even stop and buy a latte at a café and sit at the table way in the back so I can people watch. I don’t talk to anyone except the barista and the cashier but at least I’m amongst people even if I’m not interacting with them.

This evening I decided to head out to the library again and take the Newfoundland Dwarf with me. I am certain this is a bad idea. But I do it anyway. I slip her into a nylon lunch box and keep the corner unzipped so the bunny can breathe. I look innocuous going through the turnstiles so getting her inside is not a problem. I take a seat on the second floor at an unoccupied table and wait. A group of girls walk in. They take up a larger table near mine. After they’re settled down, I unzip the lunch box a little more and coax the bunny out and hold her in my arms.

After a few minutes the girls notice the Newfoundland Dwarf. They whisper and giggle as they steal glances my way.

“What the hell is that?”

I turn and see four Chads with Greek letters on their shirts looming over me. “It’s a Newfoundland Dwarf,” I tell them.

“Looks like one of those muffs you pick up at a sex store,” one scoffs, and the others grunt and snicker in unison.

“It’s a rabbit,” I say slowly and distinctly so they can understand me.

“Looks like you’re trying to use your sex toy to pick up those chicks over there. Do you know who those chicks are?”


“Those chicks over there,” he says pointing to the table of girls near me, “are from our sister house.”

“I see.”

“Let me hold her,” a third guy says reaching for the bunny.

“I can’t,” I tell him holding the bunny close, my anxiety rising.

“Why not?” he demands.

“She’s still a baby and she’s skittish.”

“You better hand her over.”


“Then I’ll just deck you and take her,” he says making a fist and leaning in close.

“You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, watch me.”

The guy lurches for the bunny, and I panic, terrified he’ll crush her. “You’ll kill her,” I say standing and backing up as he advances on me.

“What do I care?”

“Your sisters over there will see you do it.”

All four Chads turn and look at the table of girls. All the women have terror in their eyes. They look at each other and then at me.

“Maybe we should go outside and talk this over,” the first Chad says to me.

“I’m fine right here,” I reply.

“We’ve been watching you. You come in here and sit at a table near girls from our sister house and stalk them. We don’t appreciate you creeping them out.”

“With all due respect they don’t look creeped out to me.”

One of the other Chads shoves me and I shift to protect the Newfoundland Dwarf. “Don’t talk smack, freak,” he says. “Be a man and step outside.”

“I don’t think one guy and a bunny not stepping outside with you four constitutes as not being a man.”

“Get up!”

“Let me put the rabbit in its carrier so it doesn’t get hurt.”

“We couldn’t care less if your muff gets hurt,” the third Chad says.

“Your issue is with me not the bunny.”

“Hey, Katelyn!” the fourth Chad calls over to their sister house’s table. Everyone on the floor turns their head his way.

“Idiot!” the first Chad says to him. “This is a library. Go ask her quietly.”

“Ask her what?” I inquire.

The third Chad shoves me as the fourth strolls over to the girls’ table where the supposed Katelyn sits, leans in to one of the girls with long silky black hair. Katelyn, who is clearly a Stacy, looks my way and giggles. She rises and follows Chad number four over to my table. She looks at me with pathos then turns to the bunny and flips her hair.

“This is Katelyn, freak,” the fourth Chad says. “She’s going to watch your muff while we go outside.”

“Do you know anything about Newfoundland Dwarfs?” I ask Katelyn.

“What a cute little bunny!” she exclaims. “I totally love it!”

She pries the rabbit from my arms, an act which is not entirely unpleasant, and I am left to face the Chads. I had better think fast or I’ll get my ass kicked and I don’t want my ass kicked. “Just know,” I tell Katelyn, “I’ve just given that bunny her meds and she might do something strange.”

Katelyn shoots me a perplexed look. “Strange?”

“Like she might expand on you.”


“Or change shape.”

“What kind of weird bunny is this?”

“The kind that could do those things.”

“I’d like to see it expand,” the second Chad says. “That would be cool.”

“Cut the chatter and let’s get this freak outside,” the first Chad says.

If I stand, they’ll drag me outside and clean my clock. I either need to stay inside or be able to run once I get outside. But if I run, Katelyn keeps the Newfoundland Dwarf and I do not want Katelyn to keep the Newfoundland Dwarf no matter how much of a Stacy she is.

I don’t know why I remembered this, but I had this friend once in grade school, I think his name was Oron. Anyway, Oron had this birthday party at this restaurant and Oron didn’t want to have his birthday at this restaurant. He wanted to have it at a pizza parlor instead. So, while his mother was taking his cake out of the bakery box, he suddenly threw himself on the floor and pretended to have a seizure.

This is obviously an act in poor taste. But after watching all the library dwellers react to the one Chad yelling “Katelyn”, I’m left with no choice. I lean over and fall onto the floor and start flopping around.

“Oh, my gosh!” Katelyn screams. “He’s having a seizure! He’s having a seizure!”

“He’s faking it,” the first Chad says and kicks my foot. “Get up!”

But I don’t get up. I continue convulsing and flopping as best as I can remember Oron do. I hear a stampede of Uggs run my way and one of the girls from the sister house yells, “Don’t kick him! You’re not supposed to kick someone who’s having a seizure!”

“He’s faking it,” the second Chad echoes the first Chad and shoves my shoulder with one of his New Balance tennis shoes.

“The poor guy,” I hear one of the sorority sisters say which may be the first time I’ve ever heard a girl say those words about me.

“I’m calling 911,” Katelyn insists, and I hear her dial. This scares me a little, but I figure exiting this place in an ambulance is better than getting beaten up outside. I continue to flop around as I wait for the paramedics.


You can check out my books Chicane and the five installments in my Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at and vote for who you think will win Musicology!!!


It’s always fun to find a heartwarming and thoughtful tale to watch at Christmas time and this delightful little Irish/Canadian film is a great one for adults and children alike.

The story is based on the book of the same name, The Man Who Invented Christmas by Lee Standiford, and is about how Charles Dickens went about writing his very popular and timeless novella, A Christmas Carol. The movie depicts Dickens (jubilantly played by the fantastic Dan Stevens) experiencing a lot of success and celebrity with novels such as Oliver Twist, but after returning from his tour of America he experiences three literary failures. He has just purchased a lavish new home in London and has set up an estate and an allowance for his mother and father and debt is looming. He has embarrassedly gone to his publishers and asked for an advance without consulting his friend and agent John Forester (Justin Edwards).

Foster assists him in going back to the publishers to ask for an advance to write a new book which Dickens tells them is a Christmas story. The publishers cannot see how something like a Christmas story can sell in the sociological climate they are in where Christmas is ironically considered a social gathering for the rich only and turn him down. Certain that his book will succeed, Dickens sets out to prove them wrong and publish the book himself with the assistance of a skilled illustrator. Although Dickens starts out strong, he finds himself in dire straits when a crippling case of writer’s block befalls him.  

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