Sometimes, a man can change under the influence of nature. When there’s something in the air, and a low lying fog muffles the tone of midnight. When autumn draws her shadow veil across the dying summer, and the moonshine has gone well less than full from her container (usually marked menacingly with a large XXX) I become a horrid Beastasaurus!
Being a Beastasaurus*
So, you want to be a Beastasaurus, eh? Well, it’s not easy! It requires a certain mixture of grace an equillibrium. It also helps if you have no shame.
1. First, bend your knees.
2. Next, bend your top half forward, with an emphasis on your tuckus flailing out as far as possible.
3. Arch your back and jut your head forward.
4. Keep your elbows pressed to your sides. Let your forearms stick forward at a 90 degree angle. Let your hands hang loose at the wrist.
5. Now, arch your feet so that your heels are in the air.
If you’ve done everything right, you should look somewhat likethis.
Now that you’re in position, find an open area and stalk about. You should try to over-exaggerate the movement of your neck, kind of like when a pigeon bobs its head.
Once your comfortable, you can move on to running and leaping. I suggest finding a long hallway with a short but soft piece of furniture at the end. Take of towards the davenport/footstool/whatnot at a controlled pace, building velocity as you go. Make sure to unleash a terrifying sqwuak! When you reach a jumping point, lift with your thigh muscles and try to land on the edge of furniture with your feet. Congratulations! If you’ve landed right, you’ve conquered your first prey!
Note: this is sometimes done better under the influence of alcohol. It dulls the pain of bad landings and helps you forget the embarrassments on the morrow. However, don’t imbibe too much! This generally ends up in a furious bout of hopping about madly while wiggling ones fingers and screaming “F(vowel)ck me!” And the usually sleek form ends up degenerating into a dumpy, furry rabbit like creature
*Being a Beastasaurus is not intended to be used in the torment of kittens or small children. Please do not use to enflame the passion of cryptozoologists. Results may vary.
Tales of the Beastasaurus
Years ago, I worked as a projectionist for a large movie theater. There were eight screens on each floor, making the projection booth a narrow dark corridor. I knew from the moment I saw it, it was Beastasaurus country. I threaded all of my movies and set them on a timer, and let the transformation begin. For minutes, I stalked back and forth, letting out high pitched shrieks as the wild noises of my new found territory surrounded me. (this, I should point out, consisted of the eerie hum of projectors and Slayers’ Haunting the Chapel in the CD player) Then, I spotted the carcass of a standard 48x40 wooden pallet that had been used to haul in cannisters of celluloid. Just the type of pack animal a Beastasaurus likes to pounce upon! I took off down the corridor, gave a mighty leap, landing victoriously perched a full 1" higher than I had started! This, however, was too small for such a mighty monster as myself. I spotted my victim several yards down the hall. Standing tall and proud in the middle of my darkened nest was my desk chair. It was just asking for it! I took off in a maddened rampage towards the offending beast, giving out a cry that ended in a mighty leap. Soaring through the air gave my testosterone a workout like had never before been felt by man. Then a horrid thought occured to me: the chair had wheels! As I hit the beast, it merely fell over, knowing it was better to bend than break, and sent me rolling down the hallway, only stopping when I slammed into projector #7. I got up rubbing my head, glad that no one had witnessed my demise. That was when I noticed the theater general manager and the company district manager were standing there, staring at me in awe.
:eek:
Thankfully, they just shook their heads and left. It’s just as well. They could never understand the majesty of the Beastasaurus!
Grrrrrrrr,
FBoM&H