thank you for the lovely Bits and Pieces.
I laughed and cried like a little minkey playing with Altoid tins filled with allspice.
Once upon a time, in darkest India, there were three elephants. They weren’t brothers exactly, but they all got kicked out of their mothers’ herds about the same time and joined together to face the big World. That’s really the way elephants do it. When the boy elephants are old enough: “See ya later! Don’t let the palm fronds hit you in the ass!” Girl elephants get to stay as long as they want. Look it up.
So the first thing these elephants decided was that they needed houses. I’m not sure why an elephant would get it in his head that he needs a house, but you know elephants. Once they get an idea, there’s no shaking it loose. So they each built a house.
The first elephant built his house out of grass and palm fronds. The second built with sticks and logs. The third elephant just moved into the ruins of a temple that you can find all over the jungles of India. He swept it out and hung curtains and put down a few throw rugs, but he really didn’t renovate all that much. Lazy but smart, that was the third elephant.
As time went by, as luck would have it, just to go to show you, one day a fierce tiger found the first elephant’s house. He knocked on the front door.
“Hello?” called the first elephant through the door.
“Hi. I’d like to come in for lunch,” said the tiger.
“What?” thought the elephant. “I haven’t invited anyone over for lunch today…” and he peeked through the peephole in his door which was what it was there for, the peeking through. And he saw the tiger sitting on his front porch smiling.
“AAAAAAHHH!” screamed the elephant. “Teeth like knives! Teeth like knives!” For the tiger truly did have teeth like knives. The tiger used his teeth like knives to become the top predator in the jungle. When you see the top predator in the jungle the realization that you, personally, are not the top predator in the jungle is pretty much unavoidable. The elephant did not avoid the realization. He turned right away from the door and ran screaming into the jungle. It might have helped to have a back door to run through, but when an elephant is high-tailing it into the jungle screaming, details like “doors” or “not doors” don’t enter into the picture.
He ran all the way to the second elephant’s house.
“Lemme in, lemme in, lemme in!” he called to the second elephant. And the second elephant did.
Then the tiger knocked on the second elephant’s door.
“Who’s that?” asked the second elephant.
“Don’t answer it!” warned the first elephant. “Pretend you’re not home or something!”
“That would be rude,” said the second elephant, checking his peephole.
There was the tiger, admiring his claws.
“AAAAAAHHH!” screamed the second elephant. “Claws like sabers! Claws like sabers!” Just as the tiger had teeth like knives, he also had claws like sabers. His claws like sabers were also instrumental in his rise to the top predator. Both elephants wasted no time in making their getaway.
The first and second elephant ran all the way to the third elephant’s house, or temple really.
“Let us in, let us in, let us in!” they called to the third elephant. And the third elephant did.
“What’s going on?” asked the third elephant.
“Tiger!” the two said together.
“With teeth like knives!” wailed the first elephant.
“With claws like sabers!” cried the second elephant.
“I see,” said the third and smartest elephant. “Now tell me,” he asked “what does the top of this tiger’s head look like?”
“Scary!” said the first two elephants together.
“Ah,” said the third and smartest elephant. “Now tell me,” he continued “what does his chin look like?”
“Uhh…”
“His chin you say?”
“Yes, his chin.”
“Ohhhh…” said the first elephant.
“Ahhhh…” said the second elephant.
“Exactly,” said the third and smartest elephant. “So this is what we’re going to do…”
A short time later. the tiger knocks on the third elephants front door.
“Come in!” called the third elephant.
Now, if he was thinking, the tiger would have wondered why the third elephant didn’t check his peephole like the other two. But frankly, he was hungry and didn’t care.
“Rawr!” roared the tiger snapping his teeth like knives.
“Gork,” said the tiger a moment later when he found an elephant’s trunk wrapped quite tightly around his neck.
“Treat me, the top predator in the jungle, this way?” thought the tiger, since right now he couldn’t do a lot of talking, what with the trunk squeezing off his airway. “Why, I’ll show them!” And he bared his saber like claws to swipe at the offending trunk. Only he couldn’t. Another truck wrapped itself around his outstretched paw. Well, he wasn’t finished yet! He still had another paw. Only he quickly found out there was another elephant with another truck wrapped around that paw as well.
“Crap,” thought the tiger as he realized why there are old tigers and there are bold tigers, but there are no old bold tigers. There are bold tigers who take on elephants and get stomped into goo. The tiger found this out the hard way.
-Uncle Rue, story guy.
A loud mouthed tree you say **Copper_moon[/]b?
OK, I’ll give it a shot…
Once upon a itme in the land of tulips and windmills there was a tree. It was quite an amzing tree. It could talk.
It would have been an amazing tree if it could talk, but nooooo… it was a big ol’ loud mouthed tree. Just got on everyone’s nerves. Always going on about things it knew nothing about. If you rode your bicycle past, it would tell you to keep your arms in and your head down, even if you didn’t ask its advice. It told the tulip farmers how much fertilizer they should be using. If you tried to picnic under the tree it would comment on your food.
The tree was a big pain in the ass.
So they chopped it down and made shoes out of it.
Kinda sorta reminds me of the tale of Ivar, Balthazar and Pete - must be a coincidence, tho, huh?
No, no, no.
That one had pigs, this one has elephants. They’re completely different stories entirely, especially the bit about the tiger being stomped into goo.
Inspired.
Note that I said:
That means not exactly, just close, sorta, kinda… Pay attention, Ex - it’s all in the details.
Did I mention that I kinda sorta feel a kinship with you FairyChatMom? We have a lot in common. Kinda sorta.
Thank you Unca Rue - you’re the best.
I want some loud-mouthed tree shoes.
I like the elephant story a LOT.
Teeth like knives!
Copper_moon - I read your profile - I think our kinship is on that brink of insanity…
Poor flat tiger.
I had a flat tiger once, not scary at all.
It was a rug.
Since I’m a bit (lot) slow (and I’m quite sensitive about that by the way) I’d like to get back to the OP if I may.
Am I correct in assuming (don’t say it) that the duck’s name was Oscar?
Intriguing that.
We once had a gerbil named Oscar. Until the cat ate him, then I guess his name was lunch. The cat didn’t have a name that I know of. 'Cept my mom used to mutter names to it under her breath but let’s not go into that right now.
We also had ducks but none of them were named Oscar or eaten by cats.
One of them was eaten by a dog though.
But not stomped into goo.
I think I’m done.
More stories!
Please, Unca’ Rue? we need more stories, or our lives will be hollow and empty. At the same time.
Maybe something involving rock candy and cheerleaders?
Maybe not.
My point stands. We need more stories here, Unca’ Rue.
You are the only guy who can give us what we need.
For Copper_moon and FairyChatMom:
I changed a diaper once. I don’t ever want to do that again. How did that kid get corn into her system, anyway?
Rock candy and cheerleaders? Interesting concept, Ex. As to the corn in the diaper, I think I’ll pass.
[sub]Pass! Diaper! That’s a joke! I crack me up!![/sub]
Corn. If it could talk it would say, “Don’t mind me, I’m just passing through.”
Now my youngest just turned two and had the cutest birthday cake with teddy bears, moons and stars on it. The cake was trimmed in blue icing. Very very blue icing. And like corn it was just . . . well let’s just say that it made changing diapers a lot more interesting for a couple of days.
Sorry. I’m sorry. But this is my life. Everyday. Diapers and permanent marker. On the coffee table. And chair, and carpet. And baby. It only came off the baby. I love my life. I really do but it is insane sometimes.
Unca Rue, we really need a story here.
Copper_moon you should do what Unca Rue does and keep a blender of margaritas (or is it daiquiris) going on the kitchen counter by the sink at all times. When the kids get really rowdy he offers em “fruit smoothies.”
Unca Rue, how about a story involving 'possums. I don’t think you did a story about 'possums yet. Can me have a 'possum story? Huh? Huh? Can we? Pllllllllleeeeeeeeease? Huh? Can we?
No stories! NO STORIES!
:pounds little fists on dinner table:
Unca Rue is a bad uncle! He won’t tell me stories.
Make him tell me stories, Mommy!
:pounds little fists on dinner table:
[sub] Sorry, Rue. This post brought to you by the Bored Single Guys’ Association.[/sub]
Exgineer is the BEAST!!!
AAAAIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHH
Hey now Ex, settle down will ya? I’ve been sick, so gimme a break.
Firstly, yeah dwyr, Oscar was the duck. I could be all smart-assy and say the Little Red Hen was Little Red Hen, and the dog was Medium Brown Dog but then the cat was Big Black Cow and the goat was Stripy Orange Cat and the duck was Small Grey Goat with the cow being Oscar since that’s the way the animals showed up and the way the names were first listed. But I won’t. Be all smart-assy, in case you forgot what I said I wasn’t going to be.
The Story of Rock Candy and the Cheerleader
Oh wait, Ex, did your “girlfriend” like the elephant story? I’m just curious.
Now, back to
The Story of Rock Candy and the Cheerleader
Once upon a time there was a cheerleader. Her name was Joan. She was a real good cheerleader, all smiley and perky all the time. Geez! She got on my ner… I mean, she was a real good cheerleader. She was so good at leading cheers, the whole football team liked her. A lot. Even the waterboy that one time, but that was when they just won State last year and everyone got caught up in the moment.
Well, the whole football team liked Joan because she was such a good cheerleader. They all wanted to give her something before the Big Game to make her extra cheerful so she would cheer extra hard and they could play extra hard and crush and utterly humiliate the other team. They knew she liked rock candy. So everyone on the team got some rock candy and they each gave their rock candy to Joan just before the Big Game. This made Joan extra cheerful, because everyone was thinking of her and that’s really what she became a cheerleader for, the attention.
Well, during the big game Joan was cheering away and she got a tummy ache. And it got worse. And worse. Her tummy hurt so much she couldn’t cheer anymore and they had to rush her to the hospital where they pumped her stomach. They pumped somewhere between a pint and six quarts of rock candy out of Joan that night. She almost died.
But she didn’t. She went on to cheer another day. She just made sure she indulged in rock candy in moderation after that.
Copper (no, this is not another story)(technically), have you ever fed your progeny “Buzz Blasts” cereal? Oh, it’s quite yummy. You know it’s good, it turns the milk blue. Very blue. I think you can figure out what else it does.
Lately I’ve been using Hurricanes Swampy. I found a mix on sale at the store when I went and stocked up last time. The kids really love it! (But Katcha can still wake up all surly.)
One Last Story For Tonight
Once upon a time there was a big baby who tried to get his way by whining and crying and pounding on the table. All his friends got fed up with him and started to ignore him. No one would talk to him until he straightened up. No one at all.
That really showed him, it did.
Yer pal,
Uncle Rue, story guy.
Geez, Rue, I didn’t know you were sick. Now I feel like a complete heel. And a big baby.
And I don’t know if my “girlfriend” will like the elephant story or not. Since the “arguement,” she won’t answer the “telephone” when she sees my name on her “Caller ID.”
I liked it a lot though. I think all that beer helped.
I liked this one too. I didn’t know you could pump “rock candy.” Heh, “rock candy.” Good one.
Thanks, Rue.
I’ll shut up now, so as to make it easier to ignore me.
Wait a sec… “rock candy” - is that like a euphemism?? Should I be blushing now?
:o
Oops.
Er, um, well not at all, FairyChatMom. I’m pretty sure he was just talking about regular old rock candy. He wasn’t obliquely referencing a recurring ubran legend or anything. It was just about the rock candy. It wasn’t dirty or anything. After all, it’s a Rue story, and he’s all wholesome and stuff. Too much rock candy can make you really sick.
I think Chief Dan George said it best:
“It’s not for eatin’, it’s just for lookin’ through.”
Just a word to the wise. Don’t swallow too much rock candy.
I should shut up and go to my room now. Unca’ Rue is cross with me.