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Writer's pictureTristan Dyln Tano

Milkshake Sunrise - a short story

Updated: Oct 17, 2022

Do you like jokes? I hate jokes. I hate all jokes that has ever existed and that has ever been made.


I stared at the building on the next lot. Sometimes, just for fun, I’d imagine what it’d be like if inanimate objects were suddenly alive. I thought that of the building in front of me. Weirdly enough, I felt like it was looking back at me too.


My feet dangled through the slits of the damp steel railings of my balcony. My butt cheeks got the brunt of the freezing coldness of the cement floor. Huh, butt cheeks.


My butt cheeks have nothing on me, considering that I am a butt. The butt. The butt of all the jokes of the universe. And I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of butts and cheeks and every brown thing in between.


You might be wondering why I’m so done with jokes and butts. Well, here’s why.


Two days ago, I found a metal straw squeezed between the gluteus maximus of a large woman. I was in my condominium’s elevator, and I didn’t know her, so I didn’t try to bother letting her know about the straw she was mercilessly choking.


But when the metal straw unhinged itself from the suffocating stranglehold it was in, I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. She looked at me disgustingly like I just touched her bum. I, in fact, didn’t, nor did I want to, touch her bum. She left the elevator without even saying goodbye.


I didn’t know why I picked the straw up. Maybe it’s because I felt sorry for the dude, who knows. All I knew was, my life would forever be changed from that point on.


Now I’m here, sipping vanilla milkshake for breakfast when the sun has barely even risen yet. Shades of blue painted the dormant sky, and the salty smell of the nearby Pride Beach sprinkled through the air. Some pancakes would sound amazing right about now.


“You’re up early,” someone from inside called. It was Joe. His morning hair sprung on all sides like a brown hair fountain sprouted from the crown of his head. His hair was always more glorious than mine. It had spirit. My hair did nothing but flop to my shoulder and get in my food. “I was gonna watch some movies, but I couldn’t see where your TV was. I didn’t really notice till now. Hey, want to go to the beach later?” He looked at my drink. “Milkshake again?”


Really? “You ask an awful lot of questions. Didn’t you listen to a word I said last night?”

He scratched his head. “Sorry Jonah, I was completely out of it. That last bottle got me, and you were saying some bonkers stuff last night.”


Well, he did look completely out of it. And I did say some bonkers stuff, to be fair. A small portion of a half-chewed French fry still clung to the side of his lip. He slept on the couch for the night, beside it anyway. It was a miracle that Joe was able sleep at all.


“I wasn’t joking,” I said.


“About what?”


I took another sip of my milkshake. “About everything.”


And so I told him the story all over again, about the lady in the elevator and the dislodged straw.


“Yesterday,” I continued. “I learned that when I point the straw at anything and blow on it, that thing that I’m pointing to becomes a milkshake.”


What?” His eyes opened wide. I couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t believe it. The wind came again, and some leaves fell on the balcony. One hit Joe straight in the eye, the universe’s answer to his question. “Ow.”


“I’m not joking,” I repeated.


“Okay I know, I know.” He sat down next to me. “But, what?”


“I know,” I grabbed the metal straw and picked a leaf up from the ground. “How about a demonstration?”


I extended my arm that held the leaf, placed the metal straw to my lips, and blew. I’ve done this about 57 times the past 36 hours, but I still couldn’t believe it.


In my hand, the leaf glowed. It vibrated, but it did so calmly. From the leaf came a low humming sound, barely audible, but there all the same. I felt my heart hum with it.

“What’s going on?” Joe asked.


“Wait for it.”


The leaf’s glow intensified, and then it dimmed. From the light came not a leaf, but a cold glass of vanilla milkshake. The milkshake was small, about 4 inches, just as tall and large as the leaf. It didn’t weigh much too. The glass itself was clear and crystal, perfect even, and sturdy as hell. I tried to break a few of the milkshake glasses yesterday by slamming them to the ground. Not a single glass cracked.


When the light dissipated, the humming stopped.


But then Joe started screaming like a wailing crow. “WHAT THE HELL IS TH— “


“Keep it down!” I spoke. “You’ll wake the others.”


“Oh… yeah,” said Joe, suddenly self-conscious. “But… what the hell. How is that even possible?”


“I have no idea.” I really didn’t.


Joe shook his head. “That’s cool and all but that’s some wicked stuff, Jonah. You should probably just return it from where it came from.”


I remembered the elevator. “No, that’ll be a horrible idea.”


“Does it..?” Joe neared his hand to the small milkshake. “… even taste good?” I gave it to him and picked my normal-sized milkshake up.


“One way to find out.” We clinked glasses and took swigs.


“Oh, wow this is awesome,” said Joe. He wiped a line of milk fuzz from his upper lip.


I smiled. “Tell me about it.” I wiped my mouth too just in case there was anything there. The milkshake itself was incredible. The first time I tasted it, I almost pissed myself. The milk blended perfectly with the cream, creating a drink that seemed like it came from the udder of divine cows and coursed through the rushes of fluffy clouds, strained by the guiding light of a sparkling rainbow. It was the perfect drink, there was no other way to describe it.


“Can it actually make anything into a milkshake?” he asked, motioning to the metal straw.


I shrugged. “As far as I know, yeah. I’ve turned leaves into shakes. I turned coins, glasses, and one of my shirts into a milkshake even. You ever wonder where my TV went? Now you do.”


“Do they taste differently when it, like, comes from different things. Like did the TV taste like a TV?”


“Did your drink taste like a leaf?”


“Huh, guess not,” said Joe. He picked the metal straw up and observed it. He fiddled it in between his fingers. “So you just point it to something and blow on it, right?”


I nodded. “If you want to try it go ahead. Just be careful, okay? No pointing it to living things. I don’t want any complications.”


He angled the straw in my direction.


“HEY, I JUST SAID—“


“Chill.” He put the straw down. “I’m just playing.” Then he pointed the straw to the condominium building across us.


“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”


But it was too late. The madman did it anyway.


The next thing I knew, the building shone like a star made of concrete. Its low hum wasn’t subtle at all, unlike the sound the leaf made. No, it was strong and stirring. My core felt its vibrations. I don’t know if Joe felt it too.


“Crap,” I heard Joe say. Idiot, I thought. I can’t believe I’m friends with this guy.


The luminescence of the building grew and grew. I had to stand. This was something else. Something else entirely.


The light pulsed. The shine echoed through the air like soundwaves, and my very bones shuddered. I looked away from the building because the light grew too intense. Beside me, Joe stood like a dunce with his mouth wide open. Any second now, a fly would dart into his throat. I’m sure of it.


Then, after a few seconds, the light died down.


What was once a building was now an enormous milkshake glass. The glass itself curved ominously, and inside it pooled the thick white cream-filled milkshake. It looked like a regular milkshake, but with its size, it might as well have been the holy grail.


Below it, the glass sat on bald soil. All of the building’s structures and foundation reduced to nothing, disappearing into non-existence. In the gleam of the sunrise, the drink glimmered. All it needed now was a straw, but that was in Joe’s hand.


I grabbed it back and stashed it in my pocket. “Holy crap what did you do?”


“I DIDN’T THINK IT’D ACTUALLY WORK!”


I slapped him. “THERE WERE PEOPLE IN THERE, JOE! PEOPLE!”


His face reddened. “What happened to them?” he asked sadly, one hand covering his rightfully slapped cheek.


“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, MAN!” I couldn’t contain myself. Damn it if the neighbors heard. “YOU ARE A BONAFIDE IDIOT!”


“I AM! I AM!” he admitted. “BUT WHAT DO WE DO NOW?”


I tried calming myself down. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I’ve never made something living a milkshake before. Not to mention, multiple living things. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do.”


Just then, the city started waking up. People from buildings all around walked over to their balconies and pointed to the giant milkshake. They mumbled and talked to each other in groups. We were too far to hear any of their conversations, but the occasional excited shouts were enou—


“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!!” a man shouted from the condominium building next to us.

“HOLY SHIT!” another man said. Now the mumbles became louder and swelled as more people woke up and saw the impossible behemoth that stood before them.


Joe nudged my shoulder. “We have to fix this,” he said.


“I know. We need to find a way to—”


“IT HAS LEGS!!!” a woman screamed. What?


I turned around to see the milkshake glass standing. Its legs were large, big enough to support the glass and all its contents. They looked like regular human feet, but obviously upped a few notches. “No way.” I scratched my eyes just to make sure what I was seeing was real. It was. It had arms too.


Then the milkshake started to walk.


I grabbed Joe’s shirt collar and dragged him out of the condominium. I barreled out through my door, ignoring everything. I opened the fire exit door and ran down the stairwell, Joe in hand. Twenty-nine floors, easy peasy. Joe didn’t say a word the entire time. It was about 6:30 AM at this point. I had no time for this kind of crap.


When we reached the ground floor, people were already gathering outside.


I walked briskly across the condominium lobby and swung the glass doors open. There, a building lot away, the giant milkshake stood. It literally stood.


Its feet were naked. It wore no shoes or any of the sort. Its features were soft, smooth, and curving, like a baby’s. “This is what happens,” I whispered. “When you turn humans into milkshakes.”


“What do we do, man? We have to fix this.” He looked disparaged and scared. As he should.


I pointed the metal straw to the milkshake monster and blew. Nothing. “There must be a way,” I said.


“Can we turn the milkshake back into a building?” Joe asked.


I shook my head. But then something moved from inside the milkshake glass. Through the thick whiteness of the drink, someone peeked through. A human. I could swear I saw a pair of eyes look straight at me.


“THEY’RE IN THERE!” I shouted. The bystanders in the area looked at me like I was deranged. I probably was. I looked to Joe, lowering my voice. “They’re in there and we have to save them.”


He nodded; no words needed.


We walked up to get closer to the milkshake. From this angle, the monster towered over everyone. Joe picked up a stray rock and threw it to the monster. Donk. The rock bounced off the glass.


Even without eyes, I could feel the monster notice us, looking at us. It observed. It can feel. It can see. Somehow.


“What did you do?” I asked.


He answered, “I don’t know, maybe we can break it?”


“That’s impossible,” I said. “The glass is incredibly tough. No way we can break it. No way we can break something of that size either. No, no… we have to do something else.”


“What??” Joe paced around searching for more rocks, but I stood still.


The monster rubbed the area of the glass where Joe hit it on. Was the glass its skin? If so, what does that make the actual milkshake inside? I didn’t want to think it through.


“We have to make it trip,” I said. “And spill it.”


He threw another rock. I didn’t know what he was aiming for, but he missed the monster by a mile. “And how do you suppose we can do that?”


“I need you to wake everyone up and bring all of them to Pride Beach. It’s only a few blocks away. Bring anyone you can. Scream, if you have to.”


Joe nodded, before running straight into the condominium lobby. After a few minutes, he came back with a megaphone and about a twenty other people, even our friends Brogart and Chanti. They surged out of the lobby, their hair all messy, eyes still droopy, and mouths wide open. They all looked up. All of them except for Joe. No, he was far too busy shouting.


“EVERYONE! CALL EVERYONE YOU KNOW!” he exclaimed into the megaphone. “BRING EVERYONE YOU CAN! WE HAVE TO GO TO THE BEACH NOW!” He started walking towards the beach, but no one followed, so he shouted again into the megaphone. “NOW!!!” And that time, people started to walk with him, still not taking their eyes off the milkshake.


Joe flashed me a thumbs up sign before leaving.


Okay now that’s settled. Police sirens wailed, and from the curb came two police cars. Their tires screeched in a drifting stop a few yards in front of me. When the policemen opened their doors, they had their guns ready and locked to the monster. There were four of them, two from each car.


The milkshake did nothing. It just stood there with its arms slightly moving from side to side. It’s been like that for the past few minutes. But with the arrival of the police, it grew more agitated. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.


I felt the metal straw vibrate in my pocket. “Don’t’ shoot!” I shouted.


The officers looked at me. “What the hell is that thing, kid?” a police officer with a thick mustache asked me.


I shrugged. “The world’s largest milkshake?”


“Would you know who did this?” another officer asked. He wore shades for some reason.

“No,” I lied. “But I have a plan on what we can do to fix this.” Now that part, that wasn’t a lie. The officers eased and put their guns down.


“Yeah?” the one with shades said. “Well, spill it.”


“Funny you say that. Where’s your chief? I’d want to talk to him.”


“He’s on the way to a hospital. Got hit by a rock,” said the one with the thick mustache. “Poor guy.”


“Almost hit me,” added the one with shades.


“Okay then,” I said. I told them the plan. They nodded and agreed, like they had any choice. After I finished, they moved on over back to their cars. Luckily, the one with the shades was kind enough to offer me his gun.


“Take care of it now.” He placed the gun in my hands. “Don’t point it to anyone else, you understand me?” I nodded. He shook his head with a combined sense of amusement and disbelief, then went inside his car.


“See you at the beach,” said the one with the thick mustache.


I closed my eyes and sat cross-legged on the pavement. There, I waited. I felt people go around me and talk over me and scream in despair while saying things along the lines of “THE MILKSHAKE MONSTER IS HERE TO END THE WORLD!” Maybe it is. Maybe, it is. It wouldn’t be the worst way to end the world.


I sat there for about ten or fifteen or twenty minutes. I couldn’t really tell. But when I opened my eyes again, the sun was prominent enough in the sky to justify it from being “early morning” to just “morning”. Yeah, this’ll do.


I aimed the gun at the milkshake monster, specifically to his right baby arm with all its baby fats. Careful. Then I pulled the trigger. BANG! The strength of the gunshot caught me off guard and I almost lost my grip on the gun. It was my first time, give me a break.


Then the milkshake monster looked at me. Without eyes, it looked at me. Milk started bubbling on its cusp. Oh no. It was angry. It was ANGRY-angry.


I noticed that on the point of its skin that I shot it in, some sort of liquid oozed and dripped. Milk. Its blood is milk, of course.


But I didn’t have time to observe, because the monster stormed over to me with big heaping steps. Crap!


I turned and ran. I ran as fast as I could. Straight into the road, in the middle of everything. I couldn’t care less for cars surging past. I just had to get away from the monster.


With each step, the milkshake made the ground rumble, like mini-earthquakes. The worst part was, the earthquakes got stronger and louder by the moment. The monster gained on me. If this is how I should die, then so be it. Death by milkshake monster.


I closed my eyes again and ran, letting my instincts take over. But then I realized that that was stupid. I needed my eyes to see where I was going. So I opened my eyes again, and there a few blocks ahead, the beach cleared.


Where the concrete ended, the sand began in all of its shining brilliance. I could hear the waves now, and the seagulls squawking on nearby trees. But I could hear them only barely, because the quakes that the monster made muffled everything. The monster silenced the world.


I could hear its milk bubbles popping.


Only one more intersection now. The milkshake’s foot slammed on the side of the road next to me, flattening a car. Crap. Faster, faster. I have to go. Another step crushed the intersection stoplight, sending sparks to the wind.


But it was too late, for the milkshake anyway. Right before the beach, I took a steep swerve, changing my direction to the left at the very last moment. The milkshake was not nearly as nimble.


Its foot lodged in a deep sandpit, and its shin jammed into a sand bar. Then the monster fell with a loud BUGAG! spilling its contents onto the sea. They did it, they really did it in time. The milkshake’s limbs went limp and stopped moving, and the people cheered. It’s over.

Joe appeared next to me; his hands crusted with sand. “I guess that worked out pretty well.”


“Thanks, Joe.” I had a hard time catching my breath, considering the distance I ran at full speed.


He sighed. “Where’d you find this idea from?”


“I thought…” I sighed too. “If we couldn’t drink it, maybe we can make the sea drink it instead.” And the sea did. Milk poured into the water, turning the sea into a strange mixture of white, green, and blue.


People started crawling out of the giant now-empty glass of milkshake. They coughed out milk and fell to the sand.


“EMERGENCY, NOW! WE NEED AMBULANCES!” a policeman shouted into his receiver.

I turned away from the beach and saw the trail the monster had left. Craters and cracked pavement littered the road. I grabbed the metal straw from my pocket. “I have to get rid of this.”


“That, we do,” said Joe, as he snatched the straw and threw it faraway into the sea.

For the second time today, I grabbed his shirt collar. “Are you an idiot? A TURTLE CAN CHOKE ON THAT STRAW! OR SOMEONE ELSE COULD FIND IT!”


“Ahh pshh it’s fine,” he said. I let him go, now seriously considering my friendship with this dunce.


Our friends Brogart and Chanti walked up next to us, “What’re we gonna do now?” they asked in unison.


I kicked the sand. “Let’s go get some pancakes.”


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