As World War 2 dragged on, the United States government became increasingly reliant on war bonds to keep their military efforts in the Pacific and European theaters operating smoothly. To stoke patriotic fervor, entertain war-weary audiences, and increase military investiture, the USO began hosting increasingly extravagant, some would even say risque, public events. In front of roaring sports stadiums, broadcast live on radio, and even filmed for the newly developing television audiences, every effort was made to entertain and promote bond buying through these popular spectacles.
Chuck Howrie, popular sports radio broadcaster, has been tasked with organizing and presenting the most experimental, and possibly controversial, USO event yet. As the U.S. population's raging wartime antipathy against the Imperial Japanese reached fevered pitch, outlandish event proposals became increasingly considerable. The American island-hopping campaign across the Pacific was progressing smoothly, which yielded the exotic fruits of battlefield loot to the eclectic entertainers. Numerous Japanese comfort women, suspected slant-eyed spies, and even a few Geisha girls, had all been 'liberated' from Okinawa, and put at their disposal. The commanding military brass was eager to stoke their Slap-a-Jap propaganda campaign into next gear, and didn't mind sweeping a few warcrimes under the rug.
Chuck Howrie sneered and squinted at the strange, billowing creature in the huge water tank. All around, young men in BDU's were helping to assemble the USO show stage, out in the middle of Stagg football field. Howrie tapped at the glass impatiently, turning to a military technician who was adjusting the waters salinity and PH "Did they really find this sucker clutching at a carrier's anchor? Heck is this thing? Is it even safe to be around?" The young military man just shrugged, responding "Dunno, but that's kind of the whole point, right? It's been debeaked, so just don't get into the water with it." As the technician finished, another lad wearing fatigues was assembling a classical dunk tank chair, screwing in the bulls-eye plate for the chair release mechanism. Then, he heard a ruckus from the prisoner pen, a chorus of high-pitched, foreign-accented shrieks. Chuck grimaced stoically, wondering how in tarnation this shitshow was going to get off the road in time to entertain these uppity college kids.
The glaring stage lights beamed down mercilessly on Howrie, his tweed jacket steaming, pancaked make-up caked to his face, a small bead of tar-black hairdye dribbling from his widow's peak. But, Chuck was a fucking professional, and an electric, fiery, passion filled his body as he settled into the live performance. "Hello Ladies and Gentlemen! I'm the guy with the rasp, who never loses gas, your favorite announcer, Chuck Howrie!" the showman bellowed, dipping slightly in a bow, and pausing for applause. Howrie stared up from his pose, noting the low energy of the young, male crowd. He'd have that fixed soon enough, he mused, seamlessly continuing "I am ever so happy to be on the esteemed campus of the University of Chicago! Go Maroons!" Howrie finished, crisply enunciating the last part to avoid calling them 'morons' like in rehearsal. "I have got such an extraordinary event planned tonight, for all my hard studying, harder partying pals assembled here before me! Believe it or not, folks, but we're about to hold a talent pageant, with a very special cast of characters!" the presenter finished, oozing sleaze as a line of young, scared women were lead up by an armed G.I.
The Japanese women seemed absolutely terrified as they were lined up onstage. The glare of lights and leering gaze of the audience set the dejected girls on edge, none of the war prisoners knowing what was to be done to them. Chuck didn't even know if they could speak English, but he didn't particularly care either, seamlessly proceeding "The boys at the USO decided to start the show off with a little singing contest, with an extra-special added surprise! Folks, feast your eyes on... This!" the aged announcer proclaimed, gesturing and waving his arms to the left for emphasis. Half the stage was obscured by a velvet curtain, that retracted with a rattle, unveiling a huge saltwater tank with see-through glass panels. The pool was topped with a platform and connecting stairs, erected above the water, with hinges on the final portion of the walkway. As the audience watched from the bleachers, several people began catching view of a bulbous, tentacular creature jetting around in the water. Just as Howrie had predicted, when the show's full implications became clear, the audience roused in nervous excitement, all eyes turning to him attentively as he bathed in the adulation.
"Well, we've got ourselves a lot of singers out here tonight, folks, so I'm going to need your help to keep things moving briskly! You may see the young men from the USO with those trays full of baseballs, were you'd normally see peanuts and hotdogs. Well, raise your hand, toss 'em the price of a meal, and take aim, because each of these young ladies will be singing above a dunk tank! Don't like their tone? Just toss the grating geisha a fastball, and old Inky here will handle the rest!" Chuck finished with heaping enthusiasm, again gesturing at the huge, ominously agitated octopus in the water tank. Already, the baseball vendors were being flagged down, struggling to meet demand before the first girl had even gone on stage. "Well, without further ado-doo, let's start the show! Amika, step on up, and start things off!" Howrie exclaimed, gesturing towards a Japanese woman at random, not knowing their names.
A spotlight nimbus shone on the singled-out Asian girl, who froze in place like a rabbit, eyes wide with panic. She seemed too paralyzed to move, so an armed soldier 'helped' escort her onto the rickety wooden platform, which creaked as 'Amika' hesitantly walked up the steps, looking back as the green-fatigued man pointed his rifle at her, urging her on. The young Japanese woman looked incredibly uncomfortable as she settled on the hinged platform above the water tank. She shrieked upon noticing the large, shadowy outline of the creature within, lurking just underneath her platform, as she babbled in her foreign language. Howrie turned to a nearby soldier "Do they... do the girls even know they're supposed to sing?" who vaguely nodded, cupping his hand to his mouth as he shouted "Utau! UTAU!" to the scared woman precariously perched above the giant octopus.
Amika began nervously singing, her voice cracking with fear, as she struggled to project loud enough to be captured by the primitive 1940's microphones, which had to be stationed away from the salt-water pool. She was immediately jeered and booed by the rowdy crowd of U.C. college kids, who started pelting the bright-red bullseye connected to her platform with baseballs. "Hey, look at that!" Howrie enthused "That was nearly a strike, folks! I think Amika's going to have to pick up the tune!" The announcer was right, as the woman's voice continued to quiver and shake, and the audience was not having it. They were hooting and shouting, as the frightened girl tried desperately to finish the song. Suddenly, a baseball struck home, hitting the dunk tank plate, lowering the trap door instantly, and sending Amika shrieking into the salty water.
Amika was immediately set upon by the large, voracious octopus, who lunged out of the water, snatching her up in its tentacles, and snapping shut around her slender body. Screams and cheers erupted from the crowd, as the spectators gasped in shock, as the octopus slowly coiled and flexed around the Japanese woman, using its suckered tentacles to rip her clothing apart and unwrap his treat. Inky was already working hard at devouring his prize, the poor woman thrashing and flopping around in the eight-limbed monster's grip like rat in a mop. Chuck Howrie, with his manic energy and enthusiastic delivery, saw this as an opportunity to exploit. "Wow, Geez Louise, would you take a gander at that grip! Inky's definitely got himself a prime piece of Asian cuisine, folks! And, I bet he knows it!" The old showman jeered, tapping his nose while winking at the bleachers. Inky had finished stripping Amika of her clothes, and was now busy aggressively kneading her into a tightly curled ball, positioning her rump above his quivering, fleshy maw.
Inky had been debeaked, so he was forced to slowly suck Amika down, whole and alive, his powerful suction-cups forcing her helpless body into the waiting grip of his mouth, which obscenely gummed and gripped around her nude form. The audience cheered as Amika's screams grew more distant and muffled, as the giant octopus gulped down his fresh catch, assertively coaxing her into submission. Amika's knees were forced to her chest, her head pressed down into her cleavage, as the writhing, pulsing, gelatinous mass of meat swallowed her whole. The crowd went wild as she disappeared inside the massive, maw, an army of baseball-tossers watching intently as the victim's head popped back out of Inky's gaping maw briefly, before she was sucked back down with finality, a lewd squelching noise filling the air. Amika's outline bulged within the bulbous octopus's body. The crowd burst into raucous laughter and cheers, as they watched the fat-bellied monster continue slurping and swallowing, occasionally emitting a wet sucking sound from his oral cavity.
Chuck Howrie smiled warmly at the audience as he spoke in a jovial tone "Folks, this is why we love our troops, right here! There ain't no better entertainment than good ol' fashioned war crimes, am I right? Let's see if the next singer is anymore talented! Suzuki, please step on up!"