As everyone knows, the Wasteland is full of dangerous critters, the type that can tear your balls off if you don’t know what you are doing. Usually folks go fucking around like true jackasses, without any second thought to what kind of beasts they might go across, and then it’s time for regretting and bleeding. That’s why I have decided to consecrate my life to be a boffin about all this, a respected Official Bugger and Mutardologist from the Scrapbridge Methane and Meat Electro-proteic Guild (in which I am founding member, as well as president, secretary, treasurer and field specialist). I am doctor Sarious, and I will try in this Guide to the animals, critters and mutations of the Wasteland to make a cool study about the animals that populate our world.
I crack meself up only only with thinking of the little creature I bring you today. Top notch, buddies. I have put my ass in the line out there many times getting too close to deadly beasts of any kind, but few times in my life I laughed out so loud as I did with a bitch this hilarious. The days I was following it were the most funny of me life, not a big deal when you live in a shithole like this, but apart from those three days I spent in that whorehouse in Titgrab when they mistook me for a famous pit fighter and I could do anything on the house, up until they realized their mistake and beat me up so bad I almost died before they threw me into the river… yes, apart from that, I swear to all gods that this little creature is the most funny thingie in the whole world: the Gaspumper.
Just to start, this little buddy is blue. Yep, you heard right. Blue as the eyes of my cousin Vinne, although girls usually don’t look him in the eyes but those absurd pecs he is always showing off. My point is the Gaspumper is quite flashy. And it looks like a cotton candy cloud. The fur covering its body is like a soft, fluffy surface, thick and curly, one of those things you would like to hug forever while histerically yelling how nice it feels. Oh, and the eyes. What about those eyes, bulging like the ones in a stuffed toy, always open and perfectly round, with huge pupils that seem to be scrying everything (or maybe it’s just high as hell, which is always a possibility if you know what this little fucker feeds on). I don’t think it ever blinks, that motherfracker, or at least I don’t remember seen it doing so.
And, of course, that little trunk thing. A large, muscular big-ass trunk, as long as the rest of the body, coming out of its face and almost always dangling around, although sometimes it folds it under the ugly snout. It also has four legs and, as long as I have witnessed, it usually walks on all four but sometimes, specially to feed, it can get up on the hinder legs and sprints short distances on that short legs, which is quite comical and amusing to see. Besides, when it does so, it emits some high-pitched, funny sounds like “uyuyuyuyuyuy” as if the sand was burning the soles of its paws, or something. Something worth seeing.
The Gaspumper lives where there is plenty of food. That is, near gas sources. Old refineries, toxic pools composed mostly of gasoline, abandoned scrapyards, roads where it can find vehicles from the World of Before… This is usually a lonely creature, although I have come to see a couple of them which seemed to cooperate together. I don’t know it that proves some type of inteligence or just fucking random luck, because they don’t seem to comunicate in no way whatsoever. They sleep where they can, under some type of estructure for shelter or just under the stars if nothing suitable is near or they don’t want to walk further. In general it seems to be quite a carefree creature, almost naive, walking around minding its own business, pumping some gas now and then just to walk away again.
Oh, dudes, how loud I laughed my ass out watching this little bastard in action. As I already said, this critter feeds basically on gasoline. Petrol, refined gas, crude oil, even some heavy duty industrial oil might fill the bill. Why? No fucking clue. I can’t begin to imagine what kind of guts this bastard has to digest that shit, not only digest but it also gets a kickass rush from it. Well, that’s the very same reason why it’s a friggin’ nightmare for the Black Blood Children. It pumps the gasoline out of their bikes, the cans, the drums, anywhere they have it stored, and they get soooo mad about it! You could say this beast is the arch-enemy of the entire faction. It stalks near their camps, their refineries, their warehouses… and as soon as they get distracted, pump! There it goes running on its short hinder legs and chanting that hilarious “uyuyuyuyuy”, attaches its thick trunk to can, tank or drum, and starts drinking like a madman pumping as hard as it cans while releasing loud satisfaction noises that sound like “pump-pump-pump” which usually alert anyone near enough.
But that’s already late, because as I told ya before, octanes give it a hell of a rush and it gets as speedy that suddenly it’s two or three of them running around. Its eyes bulge even more, its pupils get dilated, it starts to shake and tremble like Eightfingers when getting the shakes in his fights… and then good luck catching it. Black Blood Children come running from every direction, throwing rocks and sticks at it, shooting their weapons… but the Gaspumper runs away like a bat out of the Last Waste, with half the stolen gas tank in its belly, high as a fuck and yelling “uyuyuyuyuy” on its back legs that it’s just like he was laughing in their fucking faces. Fuck, guys, you really should see the face on those mad cultists steaming out, red with anger, while that little gasoline-drenched blue cloud dodges them once and again.
Sometimes one of these Gaspumpers is not quick enough, or it gets greedy and wants to pump more gasoline than caution would say. Then the rightful owners of the liquid catch it and usually beat it to death or shoot it down. The usual method to do so is in close combat, without damaging the body much, because obviously all the gas it pumps is stored in its organism. So the only use these creatures usually get, and the only one I can think of by the way, is crushing them tight to recover to the last single drop of vital fluids they have inside their fluffy blue furs. All of it will be drenched in a high-octane gas-like substance, which works as well as the real deal in any combustion engine.
Once pressed and squeezed completely, little more of value can be obtained. Maybe if you take the fur off before crushing it you could make some fancy rug, or maybe a cover for the shitter lid, because its color is nice, but it will probably smell like gasoline forever. So it’s your call.