17 January 2012
488
R. Linda:
There was a meeting of the blog followers in me dreams the other night. Been trying to shake the images but they won't go away. It was strange, I walked into the blog and I noticed the cobwebs had taken over and a spider named Rolonda had written in the webs I WANNA STORY NOW! I looked around for Dragon's broom to brush them away. I could not find it, which must have meant she was out flying on it. Oh well, I thought. So I sat down in the middle of the blog and tried and tried and tried to think of something funny. Nothing came.
I sighed and the spider named Rolonda was staring down from a cobwebby rafter and said, "I thought as much! Nothin' huh?"
I nodded up at her tiny self. I sat there wondering if she got a discount on all those orange crocs that adorned her many feet. She went away she did, slammed the little door inside a wooden beam on the ceiling and there I was all alone, thoughtless.
I must have gone into a daze of sorts thinking of shoes and the next thing I see is a pair of black and white Oxfords and pin-stripe trousers. I looked up to find the Weasil sitting there mimicking me. Yes, we both looked like The Thinker, we did, neither of us communing, just thinking of what I could write about. I sighed and looked back at the floor and I noticed another pair of shoes, these were what are commonly called arse kicker high heels and as I looked up the slim caramel-coloured legs, I spied Tonya, sitting there with her arms crossed looking like she was thinking hard. She sighed, all of us knowing nothing funny to be written about.
Back to floor watching the three of us, until I heard this racket. I looked about, as Weasil asked what it was, all of us looking up at the rafters and there you were, come out on your beam laying belly up, legs hanging over the side snoring, orange Crocs swinging with each snore. I yelled up at you, ''I've got it, I'm boring, I know it."
"Then fix it and WRITE something!" You shouted back down.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said depressed, really depressed. This was so unlike me not to have one single thought of amusement in me head. I went back to staring at the floor. Another pair of shoes appeared, trainers, black Sambas, I looked up and Wolfie was looking at me like WELL? I threw up me hands and shook me head and he looked disappointed. For the life of me, I was story-less.
Here I was in the blog with the people who give me most of the fodder I turn into loony stories and none of us could come up with a thing. Sad it was until there was a knocking at the blog door, all of them looked at me, even you, up in the rafters turned yourself over and stared down at me.
"Who could THAT be?" I asked no one in particular.
"It's Leo Tolstoy, come to bring Anna Karenina to the party," you shouted stringing a line down to join us on a small tuffet I hadn't seen before.
"Nah, it's Machiavelli, but dunt let em' in Gabie, he's too wimpish for yer likin'," Weasil chattered.
"Could be Wills Shakespeare, you know that bust you have? But you don't want him in here, he's full of sonnets and histrionics, that's more MY thing." Wolfie said in his deep wolfie voice.
Tonya got up in disgust at all of us and answered the door, heels clicking over the tiles. Turning around she let in the announced limping intruder, "Fiona everyone," she said with a flourish of her arm and Ms. Fionnula sat down and we all stared at her shoes, one red high-heel and one pink ballet slipper, no wonder she was limping. We all stared at her shoes with furrowed brows.
"Don't ask," she said trying to pull her jumper down to her ankles and when she did, she lost control of it and it sprung back over her head. Wolfie and Weasil pulled it down so she wouldn't suffocate herself.
"So, why can't I think of something to write?" I threw out at them.
"Blame it on the Americans. They are a boring lot," Weasil said out loud.
"Perhaps you need to take draconian measures of some sort and throw yourself head first into some comedy of life, but keep your posture correct don't slouch while doing it." Wolfie offered.
I looked at him with a HUH on me face. I did sit up straighter though.
"You need to declare to one and all that the blog belongs to you and you alone in perpetuity and Capt. Jaack will have to take HIS stories out to the rest of the universe and leave the comment section of the blog alone." Tonya muttered.
Fiona's face was filled with an OH NO look. Like, don't do THAT. Gees.
"Maybe I need to get out more," I offered throwing up me hands.
"One doesn't like going out. Out is common and one would prefer staying at home and playing pinochle . . . or eat fudge . . . lots of it."
We all looked at YOU on that statement and in unison gave you an "AS IF!" You can be unpleasantly sarcastic when the mood moves you. Oi!
"All I ask for is one story, just one. I don't feel very useful at all." I whined.
"Well, if you are all going to take up space and not think of something, then you can leave," you challenged from your tuffet, "I'd like the blog to myself, I have a few things to clean up." You looked up at the cobwebs waving gently in the breeze. Suddenly a bell rang and you turned to us and said, "Did I get the answer wrong, what is that bell?"
Weasil got up and briskly went to the door without showing any indication of panic to attend to the matter. "It's Capt. Jaack!" Weasil yelled letting the miscreant in full pirate regalia in. The Captain had heard Tonya's remark and was making an appearance as a result.
"Oh we need to attend to our appearance," Fiona said grabbing Tonya by the arm, "it isn't every day a roguish French Canadian will visit and he is attractive don't you think? Now where did I put my mirror?"
"Really?" Tonya sat there annoyed like she'd find the Captain attractive when her own husband was sitting there all slouched and depressed in HIS pirate regalia! Well, hells she would! She sat up straighter, crossed those caramel gams and put on a smile, much to me chagrin.
"A chair? A chair for the captain someone?" Fiona said looking around all blushing and flustered.
"Ignore it, he can sit on the floor," YOU said. "Someone else can attend to it."
"I don't need a chair mates," and with that the captain plunked himself on the floor and grinned up at us, well some of us, he was on your tuffet level. "SO what's to drink mateys? A pint of stout for an honest day's wages?"
"Nah, I have me dad's Darjeeling wit a nuage de lait served in his fav Sevres china, but we needies us a server to serve it in Parisian time. I think dat be like six hours ahead, so ya missed outie!" Only Weasil would say such a nonsensical thing.
"How about a glass of Turkish coffee or Arab mint Tea?" Me wife offered thinking the Captain was a world traveller. He shook his head and crinkled his nose up at that.
"Sixty crates of Pouilly-fuisse' which I assume no one," Wolfie said looking at YOU, "will notice are missing from the blog wine cellar?"
You sniffed in reply.
"Well that sounds good, what's to eat with it?" The Captain asked rubbing his stomach and making a lot of noise for the beads and bangles hanging from his long dreadlocks.
"Petit fours," Fiona said brightly and then thinking to herself muttered, "though they are more pleasing to look at than eat."
"Eating is common," you quipped at her, "unless it's fudge."
"A pie? The humble kindie," Weasil offered.
"Perhaps," Tonya scoffed, "baklava or something Lebanese, you know an exotic delicacy for the sailing man."
"Oh yeah my mouth is a water for THAT," You countered.
"I know, raw steak!" Wolfie declared brightly.
"Write about someone in this room, UGH," Tonya said getting off the drink and food subject. ''One of us must lend to some sort of humour.''
I looked around. None of them looked funny except maybe you and the Captain. You dressed in your spider clothes with all those orange Crocs and him, well he was dressed sort of like me but with more beads and clanking things, then there was Weasil sporting the 1920s duds with the white and black oxfords, oh and not to leave out the charming Fionnula with the two odd shoes on her feet. SIGH. WHO do I associate with I ask ya?
Of course, Weasil took this as his cue to puff himself up with a huge smile.
"No one here is significant enough to merit me humour at the moment, more me annoyance especially not the pathetic snivelling little git like Weasil." I was pissed. He was doing nothing to help me.
Weas went to open his mouth to reply, but Tonya cut him off, "How about a family member?"
"Anyone but me sister, she's a terrible troublemaker she be."
"Howz about vampires?" You asked eagerly, clasping your small hands to your chest in anticipation.
Wolfie cleared his throat and addressed you in all earnest sincerity hoping not to offend when he said, "Rolonda, logically, you do realise that because vampires are dead and have no blood pumping through them they can never have an erection. Enjoy fantasising about that darlin'."
Weas and the Captain snickered at you as your face experienced an oh-shucks moment.
"How about . . ." Fiona thought out loud, "you write another story about being out in the ocean? Maybe you can go where the icebergs live instead of the whales?"
"No, he can't do that," the Captain ventured, "global warming Fiona? Karma's a bitch when you think of the Titanic," he sighed. "Besides what's so good about your Canadian waters?"
Fiona looked devastated until you changed her expression to shock with this diddy, "Fionnooohla, you look like a girl who's been dumped by the captain," and you laughed, "Don't you know there is plenty of fish in the sea . . . just kidding! They're all dead, thanks to BP," and you looked straight in the blank face of the British Weasil.
That brought a mini uproar and I had to put a stop to it. YOU just can't behave.
"Okay, listen up people, let's get the sarcasm and venom out. I'll start," Wolfie said in a commanding voice. "Did you hear what the elephant said to the man? No? Okay I'll tell you what he said, he said, 'It's cute, but can you pick up peanuts with it?'"
Well, that broke the ice!
Weasil squirmed in his chair raising his hand and flipping it about like a school kid, "I've got one, I've got one, wot did da girls of da Jersey Shore say ta da trash? Anyone? Okkie dokkie den, dey said, "At least you git picked up!"" Big laugh at himself for being so clever. Yee-ah.
The hand went up again, "Wait, waitie I gotz me another, wot did da alcohol say ta da ugly peeple? No one? Okay den, it said, "Yer welcome!""
Oi, oi, oi, he had to be stopped and Wolfie jumped in with THIS. "Alright, what did the iPhone user say to their iPhone?" No one knew. "He said, "Please stop spell-checking all of my rude words into nice ones, you piece of SHUT.""
"Oh goodly one," Weasil laughed as the rest of us snickered. "Yer turn Tonya," he said as she thought for a minute.
"Okay, what did the Native Americans say to the White People? Don't you just hate immigrants?"
Oh my God!
"I've got one," Fionnula shouted merrily, "What did Canada say to America?" She snorted as everyone shook their head, "It said, "You produced Miley Cyrus. Justin Bieber, they are your punishment!"" And away she snorted and laughed herself so jolly she started to dry heave. I dunno.
YOU had to get in on the act and quite appropriately gave us this, "What did the unicorns say to Noah? Okay listen up, they said, "We could have sworn you said the ark wasn't leaving until 6!"" Oh, the uproar of laughter. Gees Louise!
"Are you all done?" I asked frustrated.
"No, I have one," the Captain volunteered.
"Get it out of your system," I conceded reluctantly.
"What did the Mayans say to the world? They said, "Please stop freaking out about 2012. Our calendars ended there because some Spanish guys invaded our country and we got a little busy ok?""
"Gabe you need to get one out there." You urged.
"Okay and then we are done with this," I said, "What did Sarah Palin say to a pair of scissors? No one? Anyone? Okay then, "I feel your pain . . . no one wants to run with me either."" And of course, no one laughed.
Right before me nose was Weasil having a 'manly competition' with Wolfie. Gee, I wonder who would win? Duh. There he was rolling up his pin-striped sleeve to flex his scrawny bicep. He was sitting there poking the Wolf in the arm to get his attention until Wolfie noticed me watching. "It's frustrating Gabe, when the brain impaired speak to you like you are brain impaired." And THAT ladies and gentlemen got everyone laughing . . . except Weasil of course, who was sulking.
"Muse, between you and me, I don't know what they are all drinking in here," I said to you shaking me noggin.
"Weasil what planet do you live on?" Tonya really wanted to know.
Now this subject seemed dear to the heart of our Weasil and finally a story broke loose. Who knew what I was about to tell you about the young Scottish laddie? Not I, but I must say me wife certainly suspected it. Here it was, once settled down, we could all see something be up with the Weasil. At first, he stuttered and then he hemmed and hawed until finally me wife put the fear of God in him and told him to spill his twisted guts and he did!
I will give this to you in straight English because to sit here and write it out in Weasilese is most annoying. Here goes.
Weasil's Tale of Spending Time With Someone Dangerously Nuttier Than Himself
"When I was a kiddo, my fav thing was to run around the castle wearing an aluminium foil cap and alien mask with a play sword. Okay the sword wasn't play, I got it from one of the suits of armour in the castle. When my dad had guests I'd come flying around them waving the sword and talking like a robot. This, you can well imagine got me in lots of trouble. Me dad and mum didn't appreciate me creativity when guests were in the castle. Dad joked to one of his guests that he thought I'd had a few beers and that was what had me flying. So me dad made a funny but I was seriously thinking I was not his son, but a person from another planet. I felt this way for most of my childhood. Then I made a big mistake, the daughter of one of me father's guests was a lass, who was a year or two older than me at the time. I thought I could tell her my secret, I knew her a whole what? 20 minutes? But anyway," and he shut up sitting there waiting for a reaction. We all sat there still listening.
"I thought at first she THINKS I'm a super geek and I turned my attention back to the guests of which there were eight. She came over and leaned down and whispered, "You've got alien blood." Now I thought she was making fun of me, so I giggled sort of and I looked up and she looked all hurt, so I apologised and said, "You're serious aren't you?" And she says, "Yes, I am visited by these beings often. They come once a week and take me to their ship and do experiments, nothing that I can remember mind you, but they seem to like me and I'm not at all harmed."
"I was sitting there and I wasn't sure if she was serious or joking. I decided to get a crumpet and some tea and along she came for the same. We sat ourselves down at a distant table and ate and drank saying nothing, until she offered to pour me more tea. I waited for the opportunity to get up and get the hell away from Miss Alien because frankly, she was starting to scare me. But before I could do that she piped up again.
"I don't want you to get the wrong impression, but I think I need to explain WHY they don't harm me. They transfused their blood into mine, so now I have alien blood. You probably have it too, but don't remember their visits, some don't you know."
"OK," I said trying to keep me hands from shaking as I lifted me teacup for a sip. I was of the mind she is a huge joke or a nutter, maybe both. I decided to play along like I'm in the know, so I said, "Yeah, they do that to you, they can screw your brains up bad."
Her eyes got very big and she said, "Oh no, no, no, they wouldn't do that. You mean like programming? No, no, they don't do that," she shook her head. "They are making me . . . " she lowered her voice, "over a period of time . . ." and she looked around to make sure no one was listening, then she said, "a superhuman."
Now I've really had it to the nines, but I see my parents are busy so I said, "You're telling me that you have superpowers then?"
"I do. I can bend a spoon, look here and see," She reached over and wiped the sugar spoon on her napkin and told me to "watch" as she closed her eyes and rubbed the part of the spoon just about the bowl. It took a minute or so when before me amazed eyes the spoon started to wilt. Well, my eyes got big and I was freaked. I spilt tea all over me and the table as I jumped out of the chair. This got the attention of the adults and a hard look from the lass. So I sat back down and started to wipe up, but the butler came and started dabbing about. She got up and signalled me to follow. As I left the table I turned about to see the butler lifting the bent spoon turning it to and fro in complete confusion.
We went outside to one of the parapets and looked down. We were only a story up. She was giggling at the butler's reaction and I was thinking I was in big trouble and about to get blamed for bending a George III antique silver sugar spoon into the shape of a miniature ladle. I should jump and be done with it.
She said, "I can fly too."
"Oh no, you cannot!" I exclaimed to her wild-mindedness.
"Yes, I can. I can share my secret of how to do it with you and then you will be able to fly too."
I looked at her hard, her eyes were all-knowing and I was not going to be fooled by this bit of foolishness. Fly indeed.
"You only have to know how to do it properly." Said she. "Look here, you DO NOT look down. Rule number one. Rule number two, you do not jump straight down, you push yourself off and out, and rule number three, you relax your body so you don't fall stiff and break something."
I said nothing, I was angry. This was stupid, her all-knowing and me thinking I was standing outside with a nutter for the world to see.
Without a word, she climbed over the parapet to the ledge.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I said trying to pull her back from it, but she was already perched.
"Are you afraid? A fraidy cat?" She laughed at me, and well that did it, I climbed over the parapet with her. We were both perched on the ledge and I was talking loudly in the hope someone would come to save us both because to not do what she was doing would be unmanly and yes I'd be labelled a 'fraidy cat' and I couldn't live with that.
But no one heard us, they were probably glad we were out of their hair. I decided to turn the tables on her, I was of a mind she was pulling my leg, so I asked her how we do this flying bit in feigned interest.
"Well . . . " she said all bright-eyed, "Now remember do not fall on the balls of your feet or your head. Now the aliens told me to have a good flight, I must position my body in an arched way so I am falling arms first but spreading my arms and legs to cushion the wind velocity." She looked at me intensely. "Tilt your head back, and bend your elbows up so your hands point forward. Bend your knees slightly and when you jump steer yourself to your landing spot."
She was so full of information I was momentarily intrigued that this could be done. I looked down and the spring snow was still heavy on the ground. Underneath the snow, there were flower beds and boxwoods. I looked for a boxwood-free space and found one.
"I'll go first," she said and before I could say a word to even think she flew off the side of the castle and arched like a skydiver and whoosh into the snow below, the very place I had wanted for myself. Yes, I was considering it, I was not letting a GIRL out man me.
She rolled over laughing and made a snow angel as I looked down and suddenly it seemed a very long way. I was losing my nerve but her laughter was irritating.
"Silly bugger, are you going to fly or not?"
"I don't have alien blood," I said down at her.
"You don't need it, you just need braveness. You are a boy, aren't you? Or are you a coward?"
Uh oh, those were words she would eat. Without thinking, I leapt off the parapet WITHOUT having a soft landing area. And where did I land? You guessed it -- the boxwoods. Did it hurt, you bet it did, was I in one piece, no I was in two, I broke my flaming leg and what did she do? She took off leaving me there moaning. It was with a lot of yelping for help the gardener found me and pulled me out, then he was in a panic and flew off to ring casualty. While I waited painfully, I thought of explanations for why I jumped off the parapet. I couldn't come up with much of anything until I saw Miss Super Alien tentatively looking around to see if I was alone. Then she came up to me and said, "Sorry," but she giggled when she said it. "You didn't follow alien instructions you silly dolt."
"YOU TRIED TO MURDER ME!" I shouted in her face. I was furious. She 'harrumphed' and flounced off while I lay there broken-legged. "You're daft you are!" I shouted after her, but she was long gone before my parents came with a battery of servants and guests.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" My mother shouted at seeing me sprawled on the ground, my leg at a very awkward angle. "Oh you poor dear," she said soothing my warm brow. My father stood there looking up at the parapet and I knew he knew and he knew I knew he knew.
It wasn't until later when I was resting in hospital that my mother informed me "Life is not bad darling, you can't jump off buildings trying to off yourself. I've had Henrietta move all your things to a room on the lower floor so there'll be no more jumping."
I was realising in me medicated brain she thought I was a suicide! Oh my God, my own mother! I tried to tell her no, that wasn't the case, but my tongue wouldn't work properly to get the right words out. She left me to my dad whose eyes were filled with mirth knowing the truth. He told me he got the story from the 'young lady' and she was grounded for six months maybe life by her parents. As to me, he would tell my mum the whole story, cancel the psychiatric appointment she neglected to tell me she made for me, and once on my feet I'd get my old room on the third floor back. But I had to give up the alien studies and was not ever allowed to associate with the 'young lady' until my brain was more educated in having wool pulled over youthful eyes.
"Oh and one more thing, the matter of a priceless sugar spoon . . ." he said turning before he left me, "there is that." And out he went.
"Yes, there is THAT," I muttered to myself. All my thinking instantly changed right then and there, but as you all know, it didn't last.
So ends an adventure in the life of our beloved Weasil.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
There was a meeting of the blog followers in me dreams the other night. Been trying to shake the images but they won't go away. It was strange, I walked into the blog and I noticed the cobwebs had taken over and a spider named Rolonda had written in the webs I WANNA STORY NOW! I looked around for Dragon's broom to brush them away. I could not find it, which must have meant she was out flying on it. Oh well, I thought. So I sat down in the middle of the blog and tried and tried and tried to think of something funny. Nothing came.
I sighed and the spider named Rolonda was staring down from a cobwebby rafter and said, "I thought as much! Nothin' huh?"
I nodded up at her tiny self. I sat there wondering if she got a discount on all those orange crocs that adorned her many feet. She went away she did, slammed the little door inside a wooden beam on the ceiling and there I was all alone, thoughtless.
I must have gone into a daze of sorts thinking of shoes and the next thing I see is a pair of black and white Oxfords and pin-stripe trousers. I looked up to find the Weasil sitting there mimicking me. Yes, we both looked like The Thinker, we did, neither of us communing, just thinking of what I could write about. I sighed and looked back at the floor and I noticed another pair of shoes, these were what are commonly called arse kicker high heels and as I looked up the slim caramel-coloured legs, I spied Tonya, sitting there with her arms crossed looking like she was thinking hard. She sighed, all of us knowing nothing funny to be written about.
Back to floor watching the three of us, until I heard this racket. I looked about, as Weasil asked what it was, all of us looking up at the rafters and there you were, come out on your beam laying belly up, legs hanging over the side snoring, orange Crocs swinging with each snore. I yelled up at you, ''I've got it, I'm boring, I know it."
"Then fix it and WRITE something!" You shouted back down.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said depressed, really depressed. This was so unlike me not to have one single thought of amusement in me head. I went back to staring at the floor. Another pair of shoes appeared, trainers, black Sambas, I looked up and Wolfie was looking at me like WELL? I threw up me hands and shook me head and he looked disappointed. For the life of me, I was story-less.
Here I was in the blog with the people who give me most of the fodder I turn into loony stories and none of us could come up with a thing. Sad it was until there was a knocking at the blog door, all of them looked at me, even you, up in the rafters turned yourself over and stared down at me.
"Who could THAT be?" I asked no one in particular.
"It's Leo Tolstoy, come to bring Anna Karenina to the party," you shouted stringing a line down to join us on a small tuffet I hadn't seen before.
"Nah, it's Machiavelli, but dunt let em' in Gabie, he's too wimpish for yer likin'," Weasil chattered.
"Could be Wills Shakespeare, you know that bust you have? But you don't want him in here, he's full of sonnets and histrionics, that's more MY thing." Wolfie said in his deep wolfie voice.
Tonya got up in disgust at all of us and answered the door, heels clicking over the tiles. Turning around she let in the announced limping intruder, "Fiona everyone," she said with a flourish of her arm and Ms. Fionnula sat down and we all stared at her shoes, one red high-heel and one pink ballet slipper, no wonder she was limping. We all stared at her shoes with furrowed brows.
"Don't ask," she said trying to pull her jumper down to her ankles and when she did, she lost control of it and it sprung back over her head. Wolfie and Weasil pulled it down so she wouldn't suffocate herself.
"So, why can't I think of something to write?" I threw out at them.
"Blame it on the Americans. They are a boring lot," Weasil said out loud.
"Perhaps you need to take draconian measures of some sort and throw yourself head first into some comedy of life, but keep your posture correct don't slouch while doing it." Wolfie offered.
I looked at him with a HUH on me face. I did sit up straighter though.
"You need to declare to one and all that the blog belongs to you and you alone in perpetuity and Capt. Jaack will have to take HIS stories out to the rest of the universe and leave the comment section of the blog alone." Tonya muttered.
Fiona's face was filled with an OH NO look. Like, don't do THAT. Gees.
"Maybe I need to get out more," I offered throwing up me hands.
"One doesn't like going out. Out is common and one would prefer staying at home and playing pinochle . . . or eat fudge . . . lots of it."
We all looked at YOU on that statement and in unison gave you an "AS IF!" You can be unpleasantly sarcastic when the mood moves you. Oi!
"All I ask for is one story, just one. I don't feel very useful at all." I whined.
"Well, if you are all going to take up space and not think of something, then you can leave," you challenged from your tuffet, "I'd like the blog to myself, I have a few things to clean up." You looked up at the cobwebs waving gently in the breeze. Suddenly a bell rang and you turned to us and said, "Did I get the answer wrong, what is that bell?"
Weasil got up and briskly went to the door without showing any indication of panic to attend to the matter. "It's Capt. Jaack!" Weasil yelled letting the miscreant in full pirate regalia in. The Captain had heard Tonya's remark and was making an appearance as a result.
"Oh we need to attend to our appearance," Fiona said grabbing Tonya by the arm, "it isn't every day a roguish French Canadian will visit and he is attractive don't you think? Now where did I put my mirror?"
"Really?" Tonya sat there annoyed like she'd find the Captain attractive when her own husband was sitting there all slouched and depressed in HIS pirate regalia! Well, hells she would! She sat up straighter, crossed those caramel gams and put on a smile, much to me chagrin.
"A chair? A chair for the captain someone?" Fiona said looking around all blushing and flustered.
"Ignore it, he can sit on the floor," YOU said. "Someone else can attend to it."
"I don't need a chair mates," and with that the captain plunked himself on the floor and grinned up at us, well some of us, he was on your tuffet level. "SO what's to drink mateys? A pint of stout for an honest day's wages?"
"Nah, I have me dad's Darjeeling wit a nuage de lait served in his fav Sevres china, but we needies us a server to serve it in Parisian time. I think dat be like six hours ahead, so ya missed outie!" Only Weasil would say such a nonsensical thing.
"How about a glass of Turkish coffee or Arab mint Tea?" Me wife offered thinking the Captain was a world traveller. He shook his head and crinkled his nose up at that.
"Sixty crates of Pouilly-fuisse' which I assume no one," Wolfie said looking at YOU, "will notice are missing from the blog wine cellar?"
You sniffed in reply.
"Well that sounds good, what's to eat with it?" The Captain asked rubbing his stomach and making a lot of noise for the beads and bangles hanging from his long dreadlocks.
"Petit fours," Fiona said brightly and then thinking to herself muttered, "though they are more pleasing to look at than eat."
"Eating is common," you quipped at her, "unless it's fudge."
"A pie? The humble kindie," Weasil offered.
"Perhaps," Tonya scoffed, "baklava or something Lebanese, you know an exotic delicacy for the sailing man."
"Oh yeah my mouth is a water for THAT," You countered.
"I know, raw steak!" Wolfie declared brightly.
"Write about someone in this room, UGH," Tonya said getting off the drink and food subject. ''One of us must lend to some sort of humour.''
I looked around. None of them looked funny except maybe you and the Captain. You dressed in your spider clothes with all those orange Crocs and him, well he was dressed sort of like me but with more beads and clanking things, then there was Weasil sporting the 1920s duds with the white and black oxfords, oh and not to leave out the charming Fionnula with the two odd shoes on her feet. SIGH. WHO do I associate with I ask ya?
Of course, Weasil took this as his cue to puff himself up with a huge smile.
"No one here is significant enough to merit me humour at the moment, more me annoyance especially not the pathetic snivelling little git like Weasil." I was pissed. He was doing nothing to help me.
Weas went to open his mouth to reply, but Tonya cut him off, "How about a family member?"
"Anyone but me sister, she's a terrible troublemaker she be."
"Howz about vampires?" You asked eagerly, clasping your small hands to your chest in anticipation.
Wolfie cleared his throat and addressed you in all earnest sincerity hoping not to offend when he said, "Rolonda, logically, you do realise that because vampires are dead and have no blood pumping through them they can never have an erection. Enjoy fantasising about that darlin'."
Weas and the Captain snickered at you as your face experienced an oh-shucks moment.
"How about . . ." Fiona thought out loud, "you write another story about being out in the ocean? Maybe you can go where the icebergs live instead of the whales?"
"No, he can't do that," the Captain ventured, "global warming Fiona? Karma's a bitch when you think of the Titanic," he sighed. "Besides what's so good about your Canadian waters?"
Fiona looked devastated until you changed her expression to shock with this diddy, "Fionnooohla, you look like a girl who's been dumped by the captain," and you laughed, "Don't you know there is plenty of fish in the sea . . . just kidding! They're all dead, thanks to BP," and you looked straight in the blank face of the British Weasil.
That brought a mini uproar and I had to put a stop to it. YOU just can't behave.
"Okay, listen up people, let's get the sarcasm and venom out. I'll start," Wolfie said in a commanding voice. "Did you hear what the elephant said to the man? No? Okay I'll tell you what he said, he said, 'It's cute, but can you pick up peanuts with it?'"
Well, that broke the ice!
Weasil squirmed in his chair raising his hand and flipping it about like a school kid, "I've got one, I've got one, wot did da girls of da Jersey Shore say ta da trash? Anyone? Okkie dokkie den, dey said, "At least you git picked up!"" Big laugh at himself for being so clever. Yee-ah.
The hand went up again, "Wait, waitie I gotz me another, wot did da alcohol say ta da ugly peeple? No one? Okay den, it said, "Yer welcome!""
Oi, oi, oi, he had to be stopped and Wolfie jumped in with THIS. "Alright, what did the iPhone user say to their iPhone?" No one knew. "He said, "Please stop spell-checking all of my rude words into nice ones, you piece of SHUT.""
"Oh goodly one," Weasil laughed as the rest of us snickered. "Yer turn Tonya," he said as she thought for a minute.
"Okay, what did the Native Americans say to the White People? Don't you just hate immigrants?"
Oh my God!
"I've got one," Fionnula shouted merrily, "What did Canada say to America?" She snorted as everyone shook their head, "It said, "You produced Miley Cyrus. Justin Bieber, they are your punishment!"" And away she snorted and laughed herself so jolly she started to dry heave. I dunno.
YOU had to get in on the act and quite appropriately gave us this, "What did the unicorns say to Noah? Okay listen up, they said, "We could have sworn you said the ark wasn't leaving until 6!"" Oh, the uproar of laughter. Gees Louise!
"Are you all done?" I asked frustrated.
"No, I have one," the Captain volunteered.
"Get it out of your system," I conceded reluctantly.
"What did the Mayans say to the world? They said, "Please stop freaking out about 2012. Our calendars ended there because some Spanish guys invaded our country and we got a little busy ok?""
"Gabe you need to get one out there." You urged.
"Okay and then we are done with this," I said, "What did Sarah Palin say to a pair of scissors? No one? Anyone? Okay then, "I feel your pain . . . no one wants to run with me either."" And of course, no one laughed.
Right before me nose was Weasil having a 'manly competition' with Wolfie. Gee, I wonder who would win? Duh. There he was rolling up his pin-striped sleeve to flex his scrawny bicep. He was sitting there poking the Wolf in the arm to get his attention until Wolfie noticed me watching. "It's frustrating Gabe, when the brain impaired speak to you like you are brain impaired." And THAT ladies and gentlemen got everyone laughing . . . except Weasil of course, who was sulking.
"Muse, between you and me, I don't know what they are all drinking in here," I said to you shaking me noggin.
"Weasil what planet do you live on?" Tonya really wanted to know.
Now this subject seemed dear to the heart of our Weasil and finally a story broke loose. Who knew what I was about to tell you about the young Scottish laddie? Not I, but I must say me wife certainly suspected it. Here it was, once settled down, we could all see something be up with the Weasil. At first, he stuttered and then he hemmed and hawed until finally me wife put the fear of God in him and told him to spill his twisted guts and he did!
I will give this to you in straight English because to sit here and write it out in Weasilese is most annoying. Here goes.
Weasil's Tale of Spending Time With Someone Dangerously Nuttier Than Himself
"When I was a kiddo, my fav thing was to run around the castle wearing an aluminium foil cap and alien mask with a play sword. Okay the sword wasn't play, I got it from one of the suits of armour in the castle. When my dad had guests I'd come flying around them waving the sword and talking like a robot. This, you can well imagine got me in lots of trouble. Me dad and mum didn't appreciate me creativity when guests were in the castle. Dad joked to one of his guests that he thought I'd had a few beers and that was what had me flying. So me dad made a funny but I was seriously thinking I was not his son, but a person from another planet. I felt this way for most of my childhood. Then I made a big mistake, the daughter of one of me father's guests was a lass, who was a year or two older than me at the time. I thought I could tell her my secret, I knew her a whole what? 20 minutes? But anyway," and he shut up sitting there waiting for a reaction. We all sat there still listening.
"I thought at first she THINKS I'm a super geek and I turned my attention back to the guests of which there were eight. She came over and leaned down and whispered, "You've got alien blood." Now I thought she was making fun of me, so I giggled sort of and I looked up and she looked all hurt, so I apologised and said, "You're serious aren't you?" And she says, "Yes, I am visited by these beings often. They come once a week and take me to their ship and do experiments, nothing that I can remember mind you, but they seem to like me and I'm not at all harmed."
"I was sitting there and I wasn't sure if she was serious or joking. I decided to get a crumpet and some tea and along she came for the same. We sat ourselves down at a distant table and ate and drank saying nothing, until she offered to pour me more tea. I waited for the opportunity to get up and get the hell away from Miss Alien because frankly, she was starting to scare me. But before I could do that she piped up again.
"I don't want you to get the wrong impression, but I think I need to explain WHY they don't harm me. They transfused their blood into mine, so now I have alien blood. You probably have it too, but don't remember their visits, some don't you know."
"OK," I said trying to keep me hands from shaking as I lifted me teacup for a sip. I was of the mind she is a huge joke or a nutter, maybe both. I decided to play along like I'm in the know, so I said, "Yeah, they do that to you, they can screw your brains up bad."
Her eyes got very big and she said, "Oh no, no, no, they wouldn't do that. You mean like programming? No, no, they don't do that," she shook her head. "They are making me . . . " she lowered her voice, "over a period of time . . ." and she looked around to make sure no one was listening, then she said, "a superhuman."
Now I've really had it to the nines, but I see my parents are busy so I said, "You're telling me that you have superpowers then?"
"I do. I can bend a spoon, look here and see," She reached over and wiped the sugar spoon on her napkin and told me to "watch" as she closed her eyes and rubbed the part of the spoon just about the bowl. It took a minute or so when before me amazed eyes the spoon started to wilt. Well, my eyes got big and I was freaked. I spilt tea all over me and the table as I jumped out of the chair. This got the attention of the adults and a hard look from the lass. So I sat back down and started to wipe up, but the butler came and started dabbing about. She got up and signalled me to follow. As I left the table I turned about to see the butler lifting the bent spoon turning it to and fro in complete confusion.
We went outside to one of the parapets and looked down. We were only a story up. She was giggling at the butler's reaction and I was thinking I was in big trouble and about to get blamed for bending a George III antique silver sugar spoon into the shape of a miniature ladle. I should jump and be done with it.
She said, "I can fly too."
"Oh no, you cannot!" I exclaimed to her wild-mindedness.
"Yes, I can. I can share my secret of how to do it with you and then you will be able to fly too."
I looked at her hard, her eyes were all-knowing and I was not going to be fooled by this bit of foolishness. Fly indeed.
"You only have to know how to do it properly." Said she. "Look here, you DO NOT look down. Rule number one. Rule number two, you do not jump straight down, you push yourself off and out, and rule number three, you relax your body so you don't fall stiff and break something."
I said nothing, I was angry. This was stupid, her all-knowing and me thinking I was standing outside with a nutter for the world to see.
Without a word, she climbed over the parapet to the ledge.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I said trying to pull her back from it, but she was already perched.
"Are you afraid? A fraidy cat?" She laughed at me, and well that did it, I climbed over the parapet with her. We were both perched on the ledge and I was talking loudly in the hope someone would come to save us both because to not do what she was doing would be unmanly and yes I'd be labelled a 'fraidy cat' and I couldn't live with that.
But no one heard us, they were probably glad we were out of their hair. I decided to turn the tables on her, I was of a mind she was pulling my leg, so I asked her how we do this flying bit in feigned interest.
"Well . . . " she said all bright-eyed, "Now remember do not fall on the balls of your feet or your head. Now the aliens told me to have a good flight, I must position my body in an arched way so I am falling arms first but spreading my arms and legs to cushion the wind velocity." She looked at me intensely. "Tilt your head back, and bend your elbows up so your hands point forward. Bend your knees slightly and when you jump steer yourself to your landing spot."
She was so full of information I was momentarily intrigued that this could be done. I looked down and the spring snow was still heavy on the ground. Underneath the snow, there were flower beds and boxwoods. I looked for a boxwood-free space and found one.
"I'll go first," she said and before I could say a word to even think she flew off the side of the castle and arched like a skydiver and whoosh into the snow below, the very place I had wanted for myself. Yes, I was considering it, I was not letting a GIRL out man me.
She rolled over laughing and made a snow angel as I looked down and suddenly it seemed a very long way. I was losing my nerve but her laughter was irritating.
"Silly bugger, are you going to fly or not?"
"I don't have alien blood," I said down at her.
"You don't need it, you just need braveness. You are a boy, aren't you? Or are you a coward?"
Uh oh, those were words she would eat. Without thinking, I leapt off the parapet WITHOUT having a soft landing area. And where did I land? You guessed it -- the boxwoods. Did it hurt, you bet it did, was I in one piece, no I was in two, I broke my flaming leg and what did she do? She took off leaving me there moaning. It was with a lot of yelping for help the gardener found me and pulled me out, then he was in a panic and flew off to ring casualty. While I waited painfully, I thought of explanations for why I jumped off the parapet. I couldn't come up with much of anything until I saw Miss Super Alien tentatively looking around to see if I was alone. Then she came up to me and said, "Sorry," but she giggled when she said it. "You didn't follow alien instructions you silly dolt."
"YOU TRIED TO MURDER ME!" I shouted in her face. I was furious. She 'harrumphed' and flounced off while I lay there broken-legged. "You're daft you are!" I shouted after her, but she was long gone before my parents came with a battery of servants and guests.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" My mother shouted at seeing me sprawled on the ground, my leg at a very awkward angle. "Oh you poor dear," she said soothing my warm brow. My father stood there looking up at the parapet and I knew he knew and he knew I knew he knew.
It wasn't until later when I was resting in hospital that my mother informed me "Life is not bad darling, you can't jump off buildings trying to off yourself. I've had Henrietta move all your things to a room on the lower floor so there'll be no more jumping."
I was realising in me medicated brain she thought I was a suicide! Oh my God, my own mother! I tried to tell her no, that wasn't the case, but my tongue wouldn't work properly to get the right words out. She left me to my dad whose eyes were filled with mirth knowing the truth. He told me he got the story from the 'young lady' and she was grounded for six months maybe life by her parents. As to me, he would tell my mum the whole story, cancel the psychiatric appointment she neglected to tell me she made for me, and once on my feet I'd get my old room on the third floor back. But I had to give up the alien studies and was not ever allowed to associate with the 'young lady' until my brain was more educated in having wool pulled over youthful eyes.
"Oh and one more thing, the matter of a priceless sugar spoon . . ." he said turning before he left me, "there is that." And out he went.
"Yes, there is THAT," I muttered to myself. All my thinking instantly changed right then and there, but as you all know, it didn't last.
So ends an adventure in the life of our beloved Weasil.
Gabe
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