Just then the local constable rode up. A concerned look sat upon his face.
“Ya’ll didn’t happen to notice a man with particolored slippers, a patchwork coat, and trousers that were obvioulsy intended for a much larger man wander through this afternoon?”
“No,” Farmer Gulph replied, pulling nervously at his ear, “Why?”
“Said male caucasian was seen this very afternoon, lurking around Ye Olde Yewelry Shoppe”, answered the constable. “It is said that the aforementioned man has laid down a trail of terror and robbery throughout YeeHaw County for the last few weeks !”
Farmer Gulph muttered, “I sure don’t like the sound of all this !”
Suddenly, all were scared shitless by a high pitcheed shreek.
Minutes later, the family dog came crawling through the open kitchen door. It’s entire guts were hanging out !!
“You know how complex women are”
Everyone stared at the dog, aghast. “Oh dear lord,” murmured Beulah. “The rabbit must have gotten loose.”
Zeke sprung into action. He shoved Beulah into the windowless pantry, thinking she would be safe there. Then he grabbed the shotgun next to the door and motioned to the constable to draw his own weapon. He turned to the parson. “Now would be a good time to start praying for all our souls, parson.”
“Pray for your own souls, I’m out of here!” before he ran out the back he added, “May God bless your souls!” As they turned to the windows he grabbed a handful of the gold. As he stuffed it into his greedy pockets it suddenly became
painfully aware that he was being watched.
The stranger in the funny pants was looking right at him.
Just then, an eir shattering scream came from the windowless pantry.
Zeke ripped open the pantry, only to find in empty. Empty that is, except for a couple of nuggets on gold on the floor.
“Don’t often find dead men on the floor underneath tables covered with Hessian gold around here, Constabel?” asked he dead man on the floor under the table.
(resisting the urge to post about heat-seaking nuclear cows)
“Hessian gold my foot!” said the constable. “Those coins can’t possibly be real!”
To demonstrate, the constable took one and stuck it in his mouth. "Ouch! He said. “It’s real gold all right. But there were never any Hessians in these parts! Who could have minted these counterfiets?”
Chaim Mattis Keller
ckeller@schicktech.com
“Sherlock Holmes once said that once you have eliminated the
impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be
the answer. I, however, do not like to eliminate the impossible.
The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it that the merely improbable lacks.”
– Douglas Adams’s Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective
“It must be an Illuminati consipiracy!” Farmer Gulph exclaimed. With that said the mouths of all the participants dropped.
“I don’t want that stinking gold anymore,” Mrs. Gulph wimpered as she casually slipped a nugget out of her blouse and onto the table.
“Where did you get that?” The constable inquired as he stared at her voluptuous body, not quite unlike Kellibelli’s.
“From the corpse, of course,” she hissed in a serpantine manner. She slowly takes on the form of…
“People’s Poet don’t die, we’ll kill ourselves if you do, but first we’ll take off all our clothes.” The Young Ones
(laughing)
Huge rabbit!
Baring her fangs…she moved slowly toward the stunned men, licking her chops and snickering.
…only to be engulfed by devastating flames, which quickly reduced her to a pile of ash on the grmiy kitchen floorboards.
“Spontaneous combustion,” marveled the parson. “I’d read about it in Charles Dickens’ BLEAK HOUSE, but never hoped to witness it with my own eyes!” Farmer Gulph, the constable, and the strangely resuscitated corpse gaped at the holy man in confusion. He dropped to his knees, plunged his hands into the greasy ashpile, and…
pulled out the parson, who looked around, blinked, and wailed, “I can’t leave!!!” Then he leapt from the farmer’s hands, and ran screaming out the door.
The stranger…
Oh, shoot. Oops.
…in the confusion, grabbed the remaining gold nuggets/coins and a glass of LSD spiked lemonade (which caused the giant rabbit hallucinations as well as many SMDB members to lose track of the details of the story so far) and ran out the door, cursing in Hessian on his way to…
Washington DC!
where he was elected president! Twice!
He still has the gold and still peeks in closets and other hidey places, but he usually takes an intern with him to help him find things.
“non sunt multiplicanda entia praeter necessitatem”
– William of Ockham
Beulah woke up screaming, covered in sweat. Zeke literally jumped out of bed, still half asleep, eyes trying to adjust to the semi-darkness of early dawn, looking, uncomprehendingly and without really seeing, to where his wife should have been.
“What the hell is it?”, he cried.
“Oh my God”, Beulah wailed. “I just had the most horrible nightmare. It just doesn’t make sense. There was a stranger and a parson – except it wasn’t Ed Goldman – and a stash of coins from some far away place I’ve never heard of. It’s all mixed up in my head. But the part I really remember like it just happened is when a rabbit comes out of nowhere, looks me straight in the eye and transforms me into a human torch. Sweet Jesus, what does it all mean??”
She was now sobbing uncontrollably and he was barely making out what she was saying. Her mention of Washington didn’t help things much.
He was still a bit pissed off to have been so brutally awakened from what was anything but a nightmare – Estelle Getty had just finished giving the most exquisite backrub he had ever had and was about to do the other side – but, on the other hand, he couldn’t just leave his companion of the past 52 years in such a pitiful state.
He went over, put his arms around her and tried to console her the best he could. All those years he had always been able to find the soothing words. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she was breathing more easily, gaining back her composure, the nightmare fading in the recesses of memory.
“Well, Zeke said, as long as we’re up, might as well get an early start to the day. Why don’t you go downstairs and fix us one of your famous breakfasts. I’ll be right behind you.”
Zeke showered and shaved, got dressed and was about to join the wife when he stopped cold at the top of the stairs. The front door creeked open. It was 4:42 A.M.
“The paw!” he muttered. “The monkey’s paw!” Scrabbling frantically beneath the bed, Zeke located the hideous mummified thing, gripped it tightly in his right hand, and breathlessly mumbled his third and final wish.
[They call me MISTER Adverb]