30 January 2017
Story #849
R. Linda:
I wish I could say I ate spicy food again, but I did not. I was wide awake Saturday afternoon when that dreaded red Mustang came slowly down me driveway. I wanted to run inside, lock the doors, and hide, but the Weasil and friend Robbie saw me, so what could I do but stand there like an idiot watching them pull up next to me.
"So Gabe, ya reedie fur soom squatchin?" Robbie said, his fat red face aglow with his rosacea condition.
"Somewhat?" I asked, and then it occurred to me that the Weasil had said he'd be by (but he never specified when) to pick me up for a hike in the woods to look for what I thought was his watch. Thinking I did not glean Robbie's Scottish accent correctly, I nodded at Weasil and said, "Oh yeah."
I had promised, and a promise be a promise, so I went inside, got me Timberlands on, and told Mam I was off for a hike and should be home after dinner. Probably, she should set places for the Weas and Robbie, since they would likely expect to be fed after an afternoon of entertaining me. If she could save us some food, that would be greatly appreciated. I kissed the bewildered wife so long, and she wasn't buying that we were looking for a lost watch. But okay, run along, Gabe, and have a good time with your little friends. Geez.
I got in the Mustang and asked where we were going, and I was told it was to Pack Monadnock. This puzzled me; what was Weasil doing on Pack Monadnock? I asked and was told he was never on Pack Monadnock, but had heard it was prime Squatch country.
"Watch country?" I asked, thinking, well, Weasil is a Scot, and I don't have an ear for the Scottish accent. And why he'd think someone would be selling watches on a mountain, I have no clue, but we were talking Weasil here.
"Nah, squatch, like in Sasquatch, biggie footie."
That sank in with a bang to me brain. And it sank deep in the rational part of me brain that I wasn't helping a friend out; the friend had me on another of his crazy wild goose chases. Oh, for joy, it was too late to get out of the motor, we were well on our way, and there I was, pissed off AGAIN that I was duped into some stupid adventure with the two Scots. When will I learn that what is good for the Weasil is not suitable for the Gabe?
It didn't take long to get to Pack Monadnock, and we started into the thick woods and climbed the mountain road slowly while Robbie scanned the trees for a "squatch," and Weasil looked for a parking area, and I silently fumed at meself in the backseat.
We found a parking ground, got out, and Weas popped the boot; instantly, Robbie was taking out the equipment.
"What do we need all this stuff for?" I asked.
"We need infrared cameras to cotch the beestie on film, we need the night vision binoculars ta see him up cloos and parsonal, we need da net ta cotch him in. Ya luked out we dint bring da campin' equipment." Robbie said, laughing as he handed me and Weas the equipment.
Yeah, camping in the woods would be no treat. They knew I was not an outdoorsman, so in reality, I was getting off easy. But not really, as we know, there be no getting off easy in the world of these two miscreants.
"Ya evah seen a Squatchie befur, Gabe?" Weasil asked, trying to be genuine, which was a stretch.
"Uh, no, don't believe they exist." I foolishly said to their gasps of shock and dismay, which I shrugged off.
We started up a pine-needled trail into dense woods. We were climbing, and me thigh muscles were beginning to burn from the exertion, which made me wonder what fat Robbie was feeling, but he looked like a pro, keeping up with the fit Mr. W. I shook me head at meself the entire time until we stopped suddenly. Weasil had raised his hand for us to halt and was listening.
I heard nothing, I honestly did not, but the other two were nodding and smiling at each other.
"How long is this gonna take?" I asked, breaking their spell.
"Dint ya hear dat?" Robbie asked.
"Hear what?"
"Da soundie of heavy steppins," Weasil said, lapsing into Weasilese.
"No, I did not," I said with a heavy sigh. I knew perfectly well the sound was me own footsteps trudging along, but these two wanted to think it was something else.
Robbie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if it were a pleasurable experience. He said quietly, "I sense a squatch in the tick trees."
I furrowed me brow in disbelief, but any objections would fall on deaf ears, so I said nothing, just thought what a couple of dolts I was with.
We went about six paces when Robbie stopped us this time and said, "I kin feel its presence."
The hairs on the back of me neck went up. That's the last thing I wanted to hear besides actually seeing something I couldn't explain. I'd rather the former, but still, he was spooking me out.
We went a few more steps when he stopped us again with, "Did ye hear dat?"
I heard nothing but the soft, falling snow shower that was beginning. I wanted to hit him, me anger was starting to get the best of me, and feelings of near panic were setting in, and I had no clue where the freak I was.
It was getting onto 4 o'clock, so it was starting to get dark. I was concerned about how long we'd be out in the woods as it was getting cold. Then I remembered everything was infrared or night vision, so I didn't bother to ask. Great, I'd be out in the dark woods, unsure where I was, without a compass, with two crazies, looking for a mythical creature that I was sure did not exist.
We came to another halt after climbing for 20 minutes in silence. Weasil put his hands to his mouth to cup the sound of his hooting loudly at the trees. I wanted to say, what are you doing, dude? But I knew he was calling Sasquatch. Yupper-ruddies, fun in the forest.
We stood silently, waiting for what? An answer? Well, sports fans, we got one. The sound of a tree falling in the distance. The two squatchers were jumping up and down in silent joy that a Bigfoot had knocked over a dead tree in response. Oh yeah, right, you boyos are!
I could not join in the joy, it was so ludicrous that it was beyond me comprehension that I was even doing what I was doing.
Silently, Weasil signalled us to follow as he went further up the now rocky, slippery trail. I thought I was seeing things, but no snowflakes were beginning to fall in earnest, and well, it was time to go home! But no, they kept on trekking with me, pointing out the big flakes that meant absolutely nothing to either one of the deadheads.
The snow was starting to stick, and it was coming down in heavier amounts. This concerned yours truly, who wasn't dressed in Nanook of the North outdoor wear. The flakes were sticking to our knit caps, which would have soaked through if we hadn't turned back. But no, ever onward and upward.
Another halt, another call and nothing. Moving right along with snow and altitude, a real presence in me life, when suddenly we hear some kind of noise. I couldn't tell you what it was, as I be no animal expert, but the two of them were dancing around, saying it was a "fecking squatch," and they both called back, Weasil with that same hooty thing and Robbie sounding like he was calling pigs. "Sou wee!" He chanted as I stood there, incredulous.
And . . . nothing. Walking on in the dark now, the snow crunching under our feet. Just look at this:
"Did ye see dat? Ova dere!" Robbie pointed into a thicket. I saw nothing, but Weasil wanted to see something and said he wasn't sure, but there was movement.
Story #849
R. Linda:
I wish I could say I ate spicy food again, but I did not. I was wide awake Saturday afternoon when that dreaded red Mustang came slowly down me driveway. I wanted to run inside, lock the doors, and hide, but the Weasil and friend Robbie saw me, so what could I do but stand there like an idiot watching them pull up next to me.
"So Gabe, ya reedie fur soom squatchin?" Robbie said, his fat red face aglow with his rosacea condition.
"Somewhat?" I asked, and then it occurred to me that the Weasil had said he'd be by (but he never specified when) to pick me up for a hike in the woods to look for what I thought was his watch. Thinking I did not glean Robbie's Scottish accent correctly, I nodded at Weasil and said, "Oh yeah."
I had promised, and a promise be a promise, so I went inside, got me Timberlands on, and told Mam I was off for a hike and should be home after dinner. Probably, she should set places for the Weas and Robbie, since they would likely expect to be fed after an afternoon of entertaining me. If she could save us some food, that would be greatly appreciated. I kissed the bewildered wife so long, and she wasn't buying that we were looking for a lost watch. But okay, run along, Gabe, and have a good time with your little friends. Geez.
I got in the Mustang and asked where we were going, and I was told it was to Pack Monadnock. This puzzled me; what was Weasil doing on Pack Monadnock? I asked and was told he was never on Pack Monadnock, but had heard it was prime Squatch country.
"Watch country?" I asked, thinking, well, Weasil is a Scot, and I don't have an ear for the Scottish accent. And why he'd think someone would be selling watches on a mountain, I have no clue, but we were talking Weasil here.
"Nah, squatch, like in Sasquatch, biggie footie."
That sank in with a bang to me brain. And it sank deep in the rational part of me brain that I wasn't helping a friend out; the friend had me on another of his crazy wild goose chases. Oh, for joy, it was too late to get out of the motor, we were well on our way, and there I was, pissed off AGAIN that I was duped into some stupid adventure with the two Scots. When will I learn that what is good for the Weasil is not suitable for the Gabe?
It didn't take long to get to Pack Monadnock, and we started into the thick woods and climbed the mountain road slowly while Robbie scanned the trees for a "squatch," and Weasil looked for a parking area, and I silently fumed at meself in the backseat.
We found a parking ground, got out, and Weas popped the boot; instantly, Robbie was taking out the equipment.
"What do we need all this stuff for?" I asked.
"We need infrared cameras to cotch the beestie on film, we need the night vision binoculars ta see him up cloos and parsonal, we need da net ta cotch him in. Ya luked out we dint bring da campin' equipment." Robbie said, laughing as he handed me and Weas the equipment.
Yeah, camping in the woods would be no treat. They knew I was not an outdoorsman, so in reality, I was getting off easy. But not really, as we know, there be no getting off easy in the world of these two miscreants.
"Ya evah seen a Squatchie befur, Gabe?" Weasil asked, trying to be genuine, which was a stretch.
"Uh, no, don't believe they exist." I foolishly said to their gasps of shock and dismay, which I shrugged off.
We started up a pine-needled trail into dense woods. We were climbing, and me thigh muscles were beginning to burn from the exertion, which made me wonder what fat Robbie was feeling, but he looked like a pro, keeping up with the fit Mr. W. I shook me head at meself the entire time until we stopped suddenly. Weasil had raised his hand for us to halt and was listening.
I heard nothing, I honestly did not, but the other two were nodding and smiling at each other.
"How long is this gonna take?" I asked, breaking their spell.
"Dint ya hear dat?" Robbie asked.
"Hear what?"
"Da soundie of heavy steppins," Weasil said, lapsing into Weasilese.
"No, I did not," I said with a heavy sigh. I knew perfectly well the sound was me own footsteps trudging along, but these two wanted to think it was something else.
Robbie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if it were a pleasurable experience. He said quietly, "I sense a squatch in the tick trees."
I furrowed me brow in disbelief, but any objections would fall on deaf ears, so I said nothing, just thought what a couple of dolts I was with.
We went about six paces when Robbie stopped us this time and said, "I kin feel its presence."
The hairs on the back of me neck went up. That's the last thing I wanted to hear besides actually seeing something I couldn't explain. I'd rather the former, but still, he was spooking me out.
We went a few more steps when he stopped us again with, "Did ye hear dat?"
I heard nothing but the soft, falling snow shower that was beginning. I wanted to hit him, me anger was starting to get the best of me, and feelings of near panic were setting in, and I had no clue where the freak I was.
It was getting onto 4 o'clock, so it was starting to get dark. I was concerned about how long we'd be out in the woods as it was getting cold. Then I remembered everything was infrared or night vision, so I didn't bother to ask. Great, I'd be out in the dark woods, unsure where I was, without a compass, with two crazies, looking for a mythical creature that I was sure did not exist.
We came to another halt after climbing for 20 minutes in silence. Weasil put his hands to his mouth to cup the sound of his hooting loudly at the trees. I wanted to say, what are you doing, dude? But I knew he was calling Sasquatch. Yupper-ruddies, fun in the forest.
We stood silently, waiting for what? An answer? Well, sports fans, we got one. The sound of a tree falling in the distance. The two squatchers were jumping up and down in silent joy that a Bigfoot had knocked over a dead tree in response. Oh yeah, right, you boyos are!
I could not join in the joy, it was so ludicrous that it was beyond me comprehension that I was even doing what I was doing.
Silently, Weasil signalled us to follow as he went further up the now rocky, slippery trail. I thought I was seeing things, but no snowflakes were beginning to fall in earnest, and well, it was time to go home! But no, they kept on trekking with me, pointing out the big flakes that meant absolutely nothing to either one of the deadheads.
The snow was starting to stick, and it was coming down in heavier amounts. This concerned yours truly, who wasn't dressed in Nanook of the North outdoor wear. The flakes were sticking to our knit caps, which would have soaked through if we hadn't turned back. But no, ever onward and upward.
Another halt, another call and nothing. Moving right along with snow and altitude, a real presence in me life, when suddenly we hear some kind of noise. I couldn't tell you what it was, as I be no animal expert, but the two of them were dancing around, saying it was a "fecking squatch," and they both called back, Weasil with that same hooty thing and Robbie sounding like he was calling pigs. "Sou wee!" He chanted as I stood there, incredulous.
And . . . nothing. Walking on in the dark now, the snow crunching under our feet. Just look at this:
 |
| BURRR!!! I don't see any sasquatch up in trees, do you? |
"Did ye see dat? Ova dere!" Robbie pointed into a thicket. I saw nothing, but Weasil wanted to see something and said he wasn't sure, but there was movement.
 |
| Courtesy Animal Planet - Robbie thought he saw something like this |
I wanted to laugh. It was that stupid, but I refrained and bit the inside of my mouth. I was more sober-minded, and as I looked around at the failing visibility and falling snow, I grew concerned.
"Do either of you remember the way back?" I asked them, and they shushed me so as not to frighten off the Bigfoot they were sure they were tracking.
Two more stops, a few more calls and nothing.
"Time to turn around and go back, me boyos," I said, turning to do just that.
"Coom on, Gabe, just another bit here and den weel turn round." Robbie pleaded.
"Uh, no. I'm going back. Meet you at the car." I said, hoping I wouldn't be going back by meself as I had no clue where the heck I was, and we had gone off trail a few times. But they believed me, so with heavy sighs, they started back. I was reprimanded for the entire hour and 45 minutes about how I "wimped out" on them and how they were so close to catching a Bigfoot. Oh, sure, like anyone would believe that.
"Next time, come without me. You two do swimmingly on your own." I retorted.
On and on they went in the car about me causing them to not make history and how the biological and scientific communities, not to forget Peta, would have given them awards galore for the capture of the first live Bigfoot and how their names and mine (if I had let them catch one) would have gone down in anthropological history and how our names would be combined to make a scientific if un-Latin name for the new discovery. I put me hands to me ears to blot out all that foolishness.
Finally, we returned to me abode, and I thought they were annoyed enough that they'd leave, but they were discussing the idea of food, so no. Me family was, subjected to how they lost their chance, not because I wanted to come home, but because I LOST ME FREAKING NERVE! I tell ya!
I packed up some pineapple upside-down cake into two ziplock baggies and handed them to the two grumblers, telling them it had been real; now, get going before the snow became so deep that they couldn't drive in it. No way was I harbouring either of them for the night, so I could hear about me lapse in good Bigfoot judgement at the breakfast table.
"Wow, you were manly tonight," Tonya smiled at me, impressed.
"What do you mean?" I was confused; I had been berated the entire time the two were in me abode and fended them off as best I could, but I felt that with two against one, they had the upper hand.
"You actually booted them out the door without giving them recourse to argue about the weather -- which they usually do and end up staying for days!" She patted me face and ended with, "I am proud of you O'Sully."
So Tonya's joy at having them gone was the highlight of a bizarre hike in an unknown forest, spending the day sore and cold, looking for something that lives only in the minds of the two mentally impaired Scots, Weasil and Robbie. I hope they stay miffed and I don't hear from them for a long while, BUT we know that won't happen. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
"Do either of you remember the way back?" I asked them, and they shushed me so as not to frighten off the Bigfoot they were sure they were tracking.
Two more stops, a few more calls and nothing.
"Time to turn around and go back, me boyos," I said, turning to do just that.
"Coom on, Gabe, just another bit here and den weel turn round." Robbie pleaded.
"Uh, no. I'm going back. Meet you at the car." I said, hoping I wouldn't be going back by meself as I had no clue where the heck I was, and we had gone off trail a few times. But they believed me, so with heavy sighs, they started back. I was reprimanded for the entire hour and 45 minutes about how I "wimped out" on them and how they were so close to catching a Bigfoot. Oh, sure, like anyone would believe that.
"Next time, come without me. You two do swimmingly on your own." I retorted.
On and on they went in the car about me causing them to not make history and how the biological and scientific communities, not to forget Peta, would have given them awards galore for the capture of the first live Bigfoot and how their names and mine (if I had let them catch one) would have gone down in anthropological history and how our names would be combined to make a scientific if un-Latin name for the new discovery. I put me hands to me ears to blot out all that foolishness.
Finally, we returned to me abode, and I thought they were annoyed enough that they'd leave, but they were discussing the idea of food, so no. Me family was, subjected to how they lost their chance, not because I wanted to come home, but because I LOST ME FREAKING NERVE! I tell ya!
I packed up some pineapple upside-down cake into two ziplock baggies and handed them to the two grumblers, telling them it had been real; now, get going before the snow became so deep that they couldn't drive in it. No way was I harbouring either of them for the night, so I could hear about me lapse in good Bigfoot judgement at the breakfast table.
"Wow, you were manly tonight," Tonya smiled at me, impressed.
"What do you mean?" I was confused; I had been berated the entire time the two were in me abode and fended them off as best I could, but I felt that with two against one, they had the upper hand.
"You actually booted them out the door without giving them recourse to argue about the weather -- which they usually do and end up staying for days!" She patted me face and ended with, "I am proud of you O'Sully."
So Tonya's joy at having them gone was the highlight of a bizarre hike in an unknown forest, spending the day sore and cold, looking for something that lives only in the minds of the two mentally impaired Scots, Weasil and Robbie. I hope they stay miffed and I don't hear from them for a long while, BUT we know that won't happen. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
Bamboozled again, hey Gabe? When will you learn? As it 'tis, I am still trying to get my hair back in styling fashion but your muse did a number.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, I don't possess your biting wit to do much about the Weas.
Deletewhen will you learn is right lol you are a weasil groupie whether you want to be or not. the positive is, he is interesting and never a dull moment, makes for fun stories!
ReplyDeleteROFLMAO did I forget to tell you? I had Elmer s glue in my hands. Gabe, whay can I say? You've been warned and you STILL go on their misadventures. Be happy you didnt come home with poison ivy or ticks!
ReplyDelete