01 January, 2010

Chapter four, it's a short one

15 October 2005
141

R. Linda:

Time has a way of passing by quickly when you don't want it to. And slowly when you wish it would pass quickly. For the young engaged lass it was passing by too slowly, and well, for the Weasil, we know it wasn't slow enough. Now you may have to read these sentences through a few times to figure out what on earth yours truly is saying. It is a smorgasbord of meaningless, yet meaningful, words. I suppose you could say I be writing in code. Whatever the case may be, you are intelligent and can figure it out for yourself.

So back to our recuperating hero and his mad determination to delay the inevitable.

Splint off, skin with new skin, ankle to walking status, Mr. Weasil saw he needed to find something else to delay his getting hitched. Meanwhile back at the gazebo, Mr. Hiro Fujiyama was having a grand time decorating with cherry blossoms entwined with twinkle lights up the support poles, tinsel yes, multi-coloured Christmas tinsel) hanging from the ceiling, bonsai trees positioned inside at regular intervals with what one would call Christmas ornaments hanging off the branches in miniature, and rice mats with three red serpents each swallowing the other on the floor. The only really odd thing was the red painted rubber snakes on the banisters swallowing each other's tails on the way down. It started with one with it's mouth over the tail of the next and all the way down and AROUND the gazebo as well, on the rails. Um hum a statement was being made don't you think?

Now I don't know about you, but snakes don't ordinarily bother me if I be not thinking about them, but I have noticed that the fairer sex DOES mind them A LOT. As does meself if I be faced with one. Women become the fainter sex when surprised by a snake. How do I know this? A mutual friend of mine and Mr. W, informed me that as soon as Mr. Fujiyuma had finished his decorating masterpiece, Mr. W flew over to Scotland with his future bride to view the finished product.

I should note that Mr. Fujiyuma had left for home, well paid, and quite satisfied he had created the quasi-essential wedding gazebo. Well, why wouldn't he? He had free rein and well it was so easy to create when no one was stopping him from going Japanese in Scotland. Particular satisfaction came from those swallowing snakes along the rails. They are in Japan, the symbols of everlastingness and highly prized. Why anyone with a Japanese education knows this! Unfortunately, our bride-to-be was not educated in Japan.

Imagine her surprise or more accurately shock, as Mr. W blindfolds her, leads her out to the newly built, newly decorated wedding gazebo and voila! Off he whips the blindfold and what is the first thing she sees? SNAKES! Yes, snakes, lots and lots of SNAKES. AND, if that isn't enough she has a first class fear of SNAKES. There she is in the middle of the gazebo, screaming at the top of her lungs, too petrified to run and as she's screaming she looks up at hundreds of strands of Christmas tinsel waving in the breeze and she starts to scream LOUDER. Then she sees the bonsai trees all decked out with bright little balls hanging from the branches and then she takes in the fake cherry blossoms with twinkle lights and snakes interwoven through them all round, and finally hysterical she chances a look at the rice mats at her feet. Totally freaked and out of control she finally bolts the gazebo and makes a sprint for the house.

Mr. W is left standing in the Japanese creation wondering what was the matter. At least he was outwardly acting that way. I was told that as he walked off, our mutual friend behind him, noticed his shoulders silently shaking as if in great mirth. I tell you something needs be done about him and SOON!

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