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Early December/Post Thanskgiving 1997 Update
Page 4 of 6
As soon my Uncle as drove off Granfather withdrew a filthey lump of what looked like matted body fur from undor his arm. He grinned like a rabid Orangoutan and wipped it off till it shone.
"THE YELLER STONE. I DONE TOOK IT OFF FROM ZEKEY'S TURBAN BEFORE I'D FED IT TO THE GOAT."
You know all abbout the turban headdress and yellow stone from my last update. Granfather threatoned me that if i breathed a word of it he woud shove the electric turkey carving knife in the bodily orrifice i woud least likely prefer, all the way up to the hilt, and then turn the swich on high.
"THINK ON THET A MOMENT, BOY," he said to me. "YOU MAY NOT COME UP WITH YER LEAST FAVORITE ORRIFICE ON THE FIRST IMPULSIVE GUESS."
The phone rang--it was my brothor.My brothor said he changed his mind and was indeed comming to Texas with my folks for Thannksgiving. His wife and the kid were not coming cause they were sick
I am forced to keep a Second secretI knew by his agreeing to come he had a sneaky plan up his sleeve. My brother said he woud come ONLY if I prommised to take a drive with him on Friday, the day aftor Thansgiving--just me and him--and NOT to tell Granfather a word about it. I said SURE. While i was on the phone, Granfather sat beside me and started screamin that he didnt have enuogh time in the danm hot epson salt boil bath and told me to fill the tub up agian.
"IF I'M GONNA SIT STILL AT THE THANKSGIVING TABLE MY ASS BETTER BE AS BUMP-FREE AS IT CAN," grumbled the evil humored, nodule encroached lumpy butt bastord. So i got off the phone.
I get hit BEFORE i do anything wrongGranfather took this scary Santa Claus statue that he shopplifted from the mall last year. It is one of those extremmly skinny resin Santas that is as thick as a clothespin but is 3 feet long. They are lately very poppulor but i tell you they scare the hell out of me. It looks like a sad plastic dwarf cought in a taffy puller. You know the kind.
"I HAPPAN TO BELIEVE THET SANTY IS TRULY THIS SKINNY," Granfather said once. "HOW THE HELL'S HE GIT DOWN THE CHIMBLY OTHORWISE?"
As I wheeled him back into the yard he started whackin me on the legs and ribs with the Santa stick and pokkin me in the side with the end, which terminnated in a pointy hat.
"Granfather, I didnt even do nothing wrong yet!" I loudly complainned. And Granfather repleid, "YEH, JEST THINK O'WHUT'LL HAPPEN IF YOU DO SCREW UP THIS TIME BOY."
Geuss what; I screw upI made sure to sprey the WD-40 real good on his balls. Then I went inside the house to do my work (and also put the CD player and earpluggs in agian--bad descision). And abbout 15 minuts later looked out the windoew of my room to see what looked like the Old Faithfull Geysor.
I ran outsideThe old bastord was agian stuck in the hot tub, his testies once more involuntarrily imprisoned in the shallow center drain. (Actualy just one was cought but even still that's enuogh to keep you from going anywhere for a while).
The shooting geysor plume was due to stomachfulls and lungfulls of hot salty wator that he quickley and reppeatedly gulped up and expelled in order to lower the water levvel down to his rudementery evolutionary neck gills to allow him to breathe.
How he got stuck this time: Annatomy of a disastorBefore filling the bath I was sure, (while carefully wearing 2 pairs of rubbor gloves), to salve up with the spray anything drooping, aneything dangling, and any and all human and nonhueman prunelike apendagges of the loin and groin area in order to avoid a repeat of what hapenned earlior.
But this time, (Damn!), i must of acidentaly spreyed some of the WD40 on his butt which made him slide right off the bench like a wet watormelon seed. Also, from the last bath Id forgotton to wash the soap off his scroatum, so when I spreyed the fammiliar household lubricant on him, it woudnt stick good.
Thus the ensconced knockers.
Besides you are not suposed to use WD40 on humans aneyway.
While I was howevor impressed with his one-in-a-milion ability to mirraculously gulp and discharge so much water so quickley from the tub in order to save his own life, i was equaly repulced by the one-in-a-billion odds of such a person stuppid enough to get his knobs cought in this unique mannor not once, but twice in one day.
A bad sceneHave you evor ben like a chickon without a head not knowin what to do next. Well thats how i was. It was horroble. Granfather lay back in the halfempty tub, finaly remmoving enuogh water so he coud rest his head on the bench seat and catch his breath. I tried to bail the rest of the wator out but the evil monstor kept tryin to hit and bite me. I coudnt leave Granfather in there and i coudnt dig him out eithor. But I didnt want the old bastord to get waterlogged in the two feet of water that was left in there. Also i coudnt call the ambullance. We are Registered (not 'Certified', but Registered) Emergency Service Call Abbusers and unless its life or death we face a big fine if we call 911.
So I got in the car crying and upset and drove to town to look for my Uncle. I ran in the restuarant and they said he never came in. Then i went in the barbershop. Someon said the crazy computor kid from California is here. Yes thats what they call me in this town. I am not realy a Texan.
Junior and the deputy Sherriff helpJunior is a local man who taks care of our dogs when we go traveling and also somtimes does handywork here. He is as frightenned of Granfather as the rest of us but he somhow thinks it will help him get to heaven if he is ocasionally footservent to the devill's Spawn. The deputy was off duty gettin his hair cut and seemed pissed but agreed to go over the house with us to see what they coud do. I just wished it was the next day and my Dad was in town.
We drive upWe hear a loud thumping noise from across the yard. On first glance it apears that the hot tub is violently rocking and Granfather is tryin to get free. When we get close we see that Uncle Zeke is pitched ovor and inside the tub while Granfather is holding Zeke's head undor the remainning six inch depth of water. We pry the two thrasching men apart. If we woud of got there a minute later he woud of drowned Uncle Zeke--testiculor incarcerration or not. He gasped and coughed like crazey and thanked us for savin his life from the murderrous clawing brute.
Aha!--The othor side of the storyGranfather screamed and pointed to this little enbroidored pillow that my uncle grasped in his hand. He yowled that Zeke had seen him stuck, and then dove into the tub to soffoccate HIM, FIRST. Zeke hotly denied this and said that he got the pillow from the house to place under Granfather's ass on his reqeust while he gentley delicatly pryed his orb out of the drain with the little red plastic cheese paddol in the spoon drawer that comes with the Wisspride spread.
YORE FULLA CRAP!The 2 men started hollerin at each other. The deputy said that if they didnt stop RIHGT NOW he'd shoot them both and burry the bodies in the canyon. Of cource he woudnt do this but the two old geezors beleived him.
I got the Sears Wet-Dry Vac from the shed and was abbout to get the rest of the water out of the tub. Granfather screamed that he wanted Junoir to do it.
"KNOWIN' MUH DUMB-ASS GRANDSON HERE, HE'D GIT MUH DANM WINKIE COUGHT IN THE NOZZEL," he grumboled.
The sherrif reads the Riot Act.As Uncle Zeek stood silently stooped, and Granfather lay back in the bottom of the emptey tub now fully exposed like a nakad raw feathorless chicken with his evil yellow eyes darting, his boney knees drawn up to his scraggly chest, and his gnarled hands gripping his shins, the deputy sherrif layed down the law. It was directed at all of us, but he knew enough to look directley into the eyes of the Bastord as he spoke:
EEP! EEP! EEP!He swore to us that if the Sherif's ofice had one more complaint from our home -- ONE MORE -- betweean now and Decembor 25th, (directley after which time he was planning a long-awaitted week in Cancun), that, as God was his wittness, he woud make SURE that Granfather woud awake first thing Christmas morning beffore the sun was even up to the festive EEP! EEP! EEP! sound of a familier green Dodge van backing up to our front porch with Michigon plates and a bumpor stickor on it reading "I (heart) Detroit" as its rear doors swung open to reveal, driving it in reverse and leaning to look behhind with his white lab-coated arm across the seat, the grinning bespectocled face of Doctor Jack Kavorkien, M.D.
Granfather just sat, silent and perched like a whole frozon Cornish hen on a microwavable steyrofoam meat tray, and angrilly glaired at the Sherrif with murder in his eyes.
The old bastord's incredibble DesicionHe anounced that he woud prefer NOT to be freed from his ensconcement, and also said that imediatly after the holliday weekend he woud hire Junior to (gently--GENTLEY!) load him onto the flatbed truck and bring him down to the Countey Courthouse where he woud announce a class-action lawsiut against me, Uncle Zeke, my Dad, (for alowing an incompettent like myself to take care of him), the State of Texas, (just for the hell of it), and most of all the mannufacturer of the hot tub--which coght his balls now for the 4th time in the year we owned it--and twice in one day.
Just as the Sheriff left he said that he coud do whatever he wants, but a class action lawsiut is one with allot of plaintiffs, NOT allot of defendents.
"WELL THEN ITS A CLASS ACTION IN REVVERSE, GOLDANG YOU!" he screammed.