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Relax and try not to get all worked up: This is ONLY a spoof...(Mostley, atleast).

May 1998 Updaite

Page 7 of 7


As soon as i got off the phone I relized that setting up what may be interpretted as a "date" MIGHT of not been a good idea. Remmember, Cathyann is a girl and a freind but she is NOT my girlfreind. She is an extremly nice person and is one of my closest freinds. But she is a loud, pushy, large, heavey smoking box-shaped girl, and I am just not atracted to her. Plus, I am skinny and 5 years youngor than her, and she also is not atracted to ME--atleast that's what she TELLS me all the time, just beffore grabbing me and tryin to kiss me.

I figured we coud spend a quiet evenning as two freinds just hanging out on the porch with a few cold beers while the Gerryatric Soceity worked on their jigsaw puzzol inside the house. Besides, the scientists woud be coming over. I just bettor be sure to let her know that romance is not what i meant. But I already told her this 100 times in the past, so why reppeat myself?

Why indeed

They are doing freeway construtcion and so I was very late gettin back home. Supper was surely already over. I saw Cathyann's car outside our trailer and heard her rowdy husky chain smoker's laugh come from inside along with the creepy cackle of Granfather. Also our neighbor Junior's car was there, and also the big white research van that belongs to Madison, Ripke and Blankenship, the three cryptozoologists.

There was a friggin party goin on in there

Atcualy it was a Last Eppisode Of Seinfeld Party and i didnt even reallize it. Granfather, his new wench, and Cathyann had whipped this party up in the past few hours while i was driving home from work. Of course, by the time i got home I had MISSED THE FINAL SINEFELD. But i heard it was good.

I usualy have to go to the bathroom when i come home from the long ride. Cathyann folowed me in there, and not only did I have to pee badly, she woudnt leave. She had had a few drinks and was groping and pawing me like crazey and kissin me tryin to get that danm tounge in my moulth but I was abble to push her away.

Like Ive said in the past: It is NOT a tounge at all. It is a creatuore with a brain and spinal colunm of its own known as a Coral Sea Pipe Blenny that I once saw on a PBS nature show. And its usualy too fast for human or marine prey to repell.

I ran out of the house and pissed behhind one of the barns so no one saw me. When i went back inside the trailor, I heard this loud annoying clinking noise of glass and metol on the formica table and a cloud of smoke in the house.

Someone was playing loud Zydeco music off the CD player in MY back-up laptop, which I'd hid in my room, but that was now ontop of the reffrigerator. A few feet away, Granfather's Eight-Track player competed with it while blasting the Allman Brothors.

Also, somehow, our two pet goats, one of the dogs, and two of the chickons from the yard were INSIDE the house. Animols are NOT ALLOWED in our house. Exept Granfather, that is.

One of the cryptozoologists was passed out on the floor. The othor was weeping and vomitting in the kitchon sink while the third one, ovbiously reeling in a befuddled daze, and sat crosslegged on the floor of the living room, rocking back and fourth like a disturbed child, and workin on that jigsaw puzzol with our neighbor Junior.

Seated next to Junoir on the couch was Uncle Zeke, very intently watching the 1985 Oscor winning film Places in the Heart starring the durabble Sally Field. That film takes place in Texas in the 1930s and so my old Uncle was especialy riveted to the screen and ignoared everything arround him, including one of our goats licking the Desenex medocated cream off his giant hairy hand which he uses on these scaily fingernail infections that run in the fammily.

Juniour called out to me "Howdy Walt how'd they like the durned Catfish Cam deal?"

The anoying clinking noise of glass and metal was comming from the kitchon, where Granfather sat laughing with Cathyann. The Female Countarpart version of Political Opperative James Carvill slithors up to me, and stares at me with her bald, claymation charactor-like beady-eyed Paciffic Hagfish evil Moray Eel face.

"Grampy and your girlfreind heah are doin' shots," she murmered in a vennomous hiss.

"She is NOT my girlfreind," I said.

Yes they were drinkin shots of whisky one aftor the other. They were also playing quarters. This is a stuppid game where you bounce a qaurter off the table and if it lands in your shotglass, someone has to drink the shot. Cathyann was pissfaced drunk allright. On my way down the hall I tripped on a giant box of somthing that stunk like holy hell. There was an Express Mail stickor on the box.

"YOU LIKE THET, BOY?" Granfather screammed out at me.

"GRAMPY NEEDS HIS GREENS--SO I DONE BOUGHT ME A CASE O'DAY-OLD LETTUCE OFF THE INTERNET! JUST A DOLLAR A HEAD!"

Madison, who was the cryptozoologist who was weeping and retchin in the sink motionned me toword him. He took me aside and told me that the rancid lettice was NOT a day old, its a danm MONTH old and he warned me NOT to let Granfather eat it. He said it was rotten and coud posibbly kill him.

The normally cool-naturred cryptozoologist also had somthing else to tell me.

About that "disheartenning discovory" I mentioned before...

...the one I mentionned on the first page of this updatte. Above the cacaphonnous din of noisy music, people laughin and screamin, and the dogs chickons and goats running arround the house, (as well as the shrill drone of Sally Field), Madison told me that some X-rays of Granfather came back, and the man is litorally "disheartened". In othor words THE BASTORD HAS NO HEART.

Well hell, i coud of told him THAT. But he had this big envellope with him and he held up the X-rays to the floorescent kitchon light. As usual, the bastord's X-rays looked like somthing you might find installed behind black backlit glass at the Visittor's Center of Jurrassic Park. But this was a speceil odor-resonent X-ray that was just invented.

And as I looked closer, indeed there was a clustor of these small heartlike pulse valves allover his body and limbs which pushed the blood supply along. In a remmarkable sceintific breakthrough, they had just discovored that Granfather's blood circullation was similor to creatures known as the lower annelids.

A relationship to annelids, which includdes the earthworm, may also explian his ovor-cooked hot-dog orange colored complexion, and ridged, leathery skin. In any case, anothor research van was on its way from the Universitty for further study. He said I may get phone call from them for dirrections.

How come no one knew this beffore?

Madison explianed to me that the thing that looks like the heart in the X-ray is probly a giant wart, a large internal boil, or perhaps an evolutionery leftover: No one knows. The trauma of this discovorry was why, Madison told me, he had been weeping and barfing, Blankenship was in a puzzling daze, and Ripke was unconcious onthe floor.

Speakin of Ripke

I told Madsion that me and him bettor wake him up or eithor move him or else one of the dogs is gonna start humpin his leg.

Meanwile the party went on like an awful dream

The whole thing felt like a dream. An awfull, rural, foul-smelling dysfunctionol disgusting eppisode of Laugh-In where allmost everyone was laughin ecxept me. The old bastord now had both his tiny girlfreind AND the large boxy Cathyann sittin on his putrid lap. All three were totalley ripped drunk and lauaghin there asses off. Cathyann whispored somthing in Granfather's gamy ear and he shoutad, "YOU CHEAP HOE!" and Cahtyann howled back in her deep smoker's rasp, "I ain't cheap, Grampy, but I am on special this week!"

Annothor joke at MY ecxpense

Then Granfather whispored somthing to Cathy, while pointing his greasy skeletol finger toword me across the room. What ever it was that Granfather said, she laghed in a loud bark, and nodded. Then she called out to me, HEY WALTER and when I looked Cathyann quickley pulled up the sweatshirt she was wearing WAYYY up to her chin and lowerred it and there was no bra undorneath.

I saw her nakad stocky flesh colored 55-gallon drum of a torso for just half a second. But that was enuogh. MORE than ennough. Now it was my turn to heave.

The last thing i remember while running for the front door and stumbling outside was Uncle Zeke, glassy eyed and mezmorized by the Sally Feild Movie marathon muttoring to himself, "I keeps waitin' fer crazy ol' John Malkavich to whup her one with a dang corn broom."

Outside in a surealistic World

Next thing I knew I was blowing chowder on the side of the toolshed. I groped around outside in the dark to get the garden hose to sprey it off. But somehow i coudnt find it. This week there was some teribble forest fires in Mexico that are blowing up our way. Mabye you saw it on the news, but much of Texas is getting covored with smoky fog. Before i knew it, I was lost on our sprawling propperty of rickety shacks, sheds and out buildings. Our place is enormuos, and every pile of rusted junk can look the same. Yes there is somthing quiet and peacefull about the place and so i just sort of ambled arround in the dark as the sound of the noisey trailer grew more and more distent.

This was a nice way for me to unwind from my awful week and beffore i knew it i was out there for an hour. Then, i see a glowing red lihgt nearby in the thick peasoup haze. It was moving very slowley. It got closer.

No it wasnt UFO but it coud of been. It was a large white vehichle, which I asummed was the second research van Madison told me abbout.

Obvioussly lost, the van ambled sluggishlley at abbout one mile per hour in the maze of deepley rutted dirt roads that weave around the virtuol junkyard of crap which represents Granfather's sixty years of obbsessive acummulations.

I ran up to the vehhicle and when i spoke to the driver, I reallized i was wrong: This was the ambulence hired by Uncle William! He was comming to confront Granfather, before he dies.

Like I mentioned before, our property is probly a square half-mile in size and driving arround at night coud get you pretty danm lost. Im ashammed to admit that I was as lost as him but anyway I climbed into the back to help him navigate allong. Poor Uncle Will looked almost dead. The driver looked pissed, cause he said that alls they wanted to do was keep their pateint alive for anothor 10 minutes or so, so with his last breath he coud tell Gramps to go to hell.

Five anxiuos minutes later of driving around lost, Willian took a turn for the worse, if at all that was even concievable. Also, a bunch of our chickons wandered in front of the ambulence, and i had to get out to shoo them away. While I was shooing them, the driver kept hollerin at me out the window, "WE'RE LOST!" and I said, "We're NOT lost!", even thuogh I knew we were.

As soon as i climb back into the van, the dirt road openned up into a straightaway. Suddenly, i see it is blocked by a ghastley silouette standing while gripping an alunimum walker. The grisly, bad-smelling figoure stood all alone in the road in a cloud of thick vapory mist with a Tam O'Shantor cocked jauntily on its head. It was Granfather.

"Where's the main house!" the driver yells to him, "We're in hurry!"

"AH! LOCK ACHREE!", the old bastord answored in his anoying fake Scottish acent.

"AYE, IT'S NOT TOO FAAAHR!

"ROB ROY IS FROM THA'AR! WHY, THE ENTIRE WAT'TER SUPPLY OF GLASGOW..."

There is only ONE peice of information that we needed -- and the abusive coot was playing games with us. But at any rate, we had found him.

I imediatly bolted out of the van and said, "Granfather, PLEASE come inside here and make peace with your brothor beffore he dies." The old beast grinned and imediatly revertted back to his American twang,

"THET YOU IN THAR, WILLY?"

Uncle Will awoke from his deleriuim and used all his strenth to curse the bastord. Granfather dove in, and pounced on the poor man screaming, once agian in the fake Scotty brogue, "ME DIAPER'S OFF AN' ITS TIME FOR THE CABER TOSS, LADDIE!" and just as Granfathor treid to squat his bare hairy ass ovor the face of William as he lied there on the gurney I kicked open the back door of the amboulence and pulled everyone to safety lest we all be subject to the launch one of the old bastord's imminantly ariving tellephone-pole-sized loads in an enclosed space full of presurrized oxygen cannistors.

The exploasion came...

The ground shook and an awful stench swept the whole area...But not from where we were!

It came from the distence: It came from the dirrection of the trailer...Sorry to leave you in suspence here but i will end this update here. Not becuase I want to torturre you with a cliffhanger, but becuase I am too phisicaly ill to contineu. Please tune in arround the last week of May for my Next Update.

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