A LOBSTER TALE
(Warning: Not for the faint of heart)
It all started innocently enough. I was sitting watching "The Terminal," when my mom came home from prayer meeting. In her hands was a box, and she announced that its contents were meant as a present in honor of my homecoming to Japan. Now, some might consider giving a flower or a box of chocolates as a welcome home gift - but oh no, Mrs. Suzuki decided to give my family two lobsters. Two live lobsters.
The moment I heard they were alive I stiffened in fear. My mother quickly placed the box on the kitchen table, where we decided to take a look. Slowly she opended the box, and the sight that we saw made us shriek in terror.
Long tentacles moved about like overgrown arms, and their eyes poked out of their red shell like two tiny light bulbs. Their pinchers (which we were told were tied together, but were obviosuly in fine working condition) were moving in and out, in and out, as if ready to clamp on anything that dared come in its way.
Our solution was to put them on the front porch. Certainly they couldn't hurt anyone out there.
Nonetheless, we locked the doors and went upstairs. My mom called my dad to tell him about our new pets, and he said that we should boil them now, in case they went bad overnight.
My mom and I nervously looked at each other. Those horrid crustaceans were determined to ruin our evening.
So we set some water to boil. I turned on some Christmas music really loud, in an attempt to create a festive mood for our very first lobster bake. My mother affectionately named the lobsters "Lauren" and "Larry". I'm not quite sure why I had the honor of having one of them christened after me, but I went along with it anyway.
My mom then ran outside to get our lobsters. She brought them into the sink. Armed with only some tongs and a dirty yellow glove, she was the most heroic person I have ever seen. I stood a safe distance away with the camera , since of course the photographer is a very important position which should not be compromised. The water finally came to a boil. It was time.
Larry was obviously dead. The cold must have been too much for the little fellow. However, Lauren was doing quite well, moving about ignorantly. My mother decided to aim for dead Larry.
The first couple of tries she pulled back in fear. Lauren's pinchers were still moving. On the third try she got a hold of Larry, and threw him in the water, head first, like it said to in the recipe book.
We were extremely excited at this victory. Only one more to go!
However, Lauren was too active. She stared up at us as if planning her attack. It was like something from the movie "Alien." Now my mom was Sigourny Weaver, and it was all up to her to save us both!
But she simply couldn't do it. So she picked up the box, and carried it over to the stove. I crouched behind her, scared that the lobster would jump out and....do something. As she turned the box upside down, Lauren fell into the pot of boiling water and met her fate. As my mom said later, it was more of a back-flip than a nose dive. As Lauren made her dismount, my mom threw the box to the side and we both let out a huge scream.
And it was done. Lauren and Larry had their last swim.
After they were done cooking, we put them in the refrigerator and went upstairs. On our way up, we noticed that my mom had left the front door wide open when she brought the lobsters in. Therefore, the whole neighborhood probably heard us shrieking and running about while listneing to Bing Crosby sing White Christmas.
And there was much laughing. | 
