Page 4 of 6
I dont know what went on with Granfather and Uncle zeke in Newerk while i was in New York but aparrently there was a big falling out. My Uncle was supossed to fly to Texas with us on the same flight, but insted he came a few days later.
Even though Granpy's two brothers dont live in that state, if they dont go to counsiling they will lose all rights to the monetery and property assets in Texas that they legally claim in dispute.
To keep the old basterd relaxed the doctor proscribed a strong canine sedative that he takes an hour beffore flying. Plus just to be sure he wears a speciel muzzle mask. Not so much as mask as an Air Travel Restraint Aparrattus. This is secured to his ugly grisly face beffore even we leave the hotel.
At first Granps just staired back at us, silent, angrey and with a big defiant frown on his face. But aftor a while he came arround and agreed with us, and to this day i am still proud of him.
"I KNOWS I'M A ORNERY SUMBITCH HANDFUL," the old basterd said to me there in the hotel bathroom as i fitted the muzzol onto his snapping crocodillien maw. "SO'S I CAIN'T BLAME Y'ALL FER TAKIN' ALL THESE HERE PURCAUTIONS."
The wierd stares usualy begin while we are in the gate area. Somone inevitably makes a comment or remark, like, "What is that?", or else, "Can't that thing go by cargo?"
Granfather always looks thru his mask at these people and growls. Exept he is not truly growling, he is sayin to that person "I AIN'T A 'THANG' SO WHY DONCHA KISS MUH SCRAGGY SEATWARMER?" or some other rude thing. There is a set response that me and my familly is suposed to say, and that is: "This is a rare biollogical creature and he will do harm to himself and othor pets if he goes by cargo."
...which is corect in its entirety, really. The first time i had to say this "rare, biological" statement to a strangor in public my voice cracked and I got a sore lump in my throaght from shame. Because after all this is my own biological Granfather i am talking about here. But now i am used to it. I guess living with him has made me used to it also.
Even thuogh is he less biologgical than "Bio-ILL- Logical, if you think abbout it.
The filter has to be changed twice durring the flight. So far Ive been flushin them down the plane toilat, but i dont tell too many peoplle that.
A wire cage is soddered onto the face of the footbal mask, and sheepskin and polyfoam which were soaked in liqoud charcoal are wedged into the edges.
Granfather's Speciel(TM) Pattented Travel Mask is demeaning but humaine. It does not cause pain to the old basterd, acording to our family doctor. (Not that the doctor cares; He does not). Yes, the Masked Bastord is a frightenning sight, but less frigtning than what his real face looks like without it, or for that mattor how he smells.
"Are you OK in there Granfather?" I said.
The old basterd grunted in responce. A man across the aisle gave me a real dirtey look and said he was going to write a lettor to the airline to complaine about Granfather once they landed. In responce I clearred my throaght and said to him in a firm yet polite way,
"This is a rare biollogical creature and he will do harm to himself and othor pets if he goes by cargo."
Granfather is so danm disgousting it is not funny. His body is covored with sharp bristley hair, leathery scales, lumps and crusty coagulative bumps. Plus he naturally emits both radon and methaine from the tiny crevices grooves gullies and fissures on his reppulsive oozing scalp. The crevisses look the same, yet both leak toxic gas. The way you can tell if he is leaching methaine and not radon is to hold a lit match over one of the danm crevices in qeustion: If a greasy yellow flame springs to life over the crack, it is methaine.
The seat infront of me had one of those phones on it and so I jacked my notebook in to check my email for work. I forgot if even I wasnt alowed to do this but no one stopped me. In any case I hate notebook computors. I dont care how fast they say these danm processors are, they are alwayes slower than desktop computers any day. Plus you can never realy fully turn the danm things off. Anyway, I had, like, 80 e-mails from work and half of them were stupid things I was c.c.'ed on that had nothin at all to do with me. (I am of the opinnion that any email to which there are more than two people c.c.'ed is not worth eithor sending or reading.)
The othor 40 e-mails were from my danm anoying boss, the perky little overly nosy codependent toadfaced womon. And half of those emails were stupid-ass things that are suposed to be humor but have been arround since the Year One.