Re: Problems in the Corncrib & Inside Miss Marcia's, as Well

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Posted by Miss Marcia....I think.... on March 01, 2000 at 20:55:12:

In Reply to: Re: Problems in the Corncrib posted by Dana S. on March 01, 2000 at 16:44:40:

: :
: : : "Hmmmm...seems ta' be a fuss goin' on over'n ad'Miss Marcia's..."

: : : [chuckle]

: : : "Tis' a good thang Ah's left when Ah's did..."

: : : [moving deeper into the shadows of the forest]

: : : "Soon will meet up wit' Mah' Mingo brudders........."

: : : [an ominous chill floats upon the branches of Mohicanlands forest]...

: : ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

: : Miss Marcia, open the door.

: : Miss Marcia, you can come out now. I believe the scare is over, if the problem isn't entirely solved. There appears to be nobody in the corncrib, but it has a powerful odor of polecat about it. With your permission, the men and I - 'scuse me, the men and She and I are going to bust down the door and see if we can get to the root of what's going on in there.

: : Miss Marcia? Miss Marcia? KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

: : Bent Twigg

: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

: Alright! The suspense is killing me. Will Miss Marcia be okay? Where is she? Now what? Somebody *do* something.

*grooooooooooooan* *moooooooooaaaaaannnnnnnn*

Oh, me...oh, my....wha' the...hic!...Why's it so DARK? Where am I??...*groooooan*...better sit up...BONK!!...OUCH! OH, OWWWW, OWWWW, OWWWWW! What the heck did I bang my head into? And...WHO'S THAT IN HERE WITH ME???? I hear you! I can hear you breathin'! Oh, land sake, don't hurt me, please don't hurt me! Who are you?? Why won't you say anything??


ACK!!! Hector is that you? Stop lickin' my face you durn fool hound! Where am I, anyway...or where are WE, I should ask? *feelin' around on hands & knees* Hmmmmmmm...I seem to be under my bed. Oh, I think I'm rememberin' now...

She Who Tracks left you here to guard me, didn't she, dog? And I seem to recollect gettin' my gun all ready, in case there were maraudin' heathens about. Then, it all gets kinda foggy...let me crawl on outta here & see if I can find my oil lamp.

Now, that's better with a bit of light on the subject, but boy, is it BRIGHT! Hurts my eyes and makes my poor ol' punkin' head hurt like crazy! Oh, here's my jug o' special rum I use for my DownHome fruitcakes and the like...what's it doin' here stickin' out from under the bed, I wonder? Now that I think on it a bit, I DO remember bein' terrible afraid for my life, an' all, what with bein' locked inside my house here with no one to protect me except this half-dead ol' mangy hound, no offense intended, there, do have your own gifts, though what they might be, besides smellin' like a heap o' wet dog fur, I'm sure I don't know.

Anyways, now I recall I was hearing some hideous strange noises emanatin' from the area of my verandah, and I was smellin' some powerful bad odors, seepin' in under the windowsills, and I was figuring it was all over for poor Miss Marcia and her Famous DownHome, I thought I may as well drink to the ending of a once-happy life, and I fixed myself a little nip or six from this jug. In fact, looks like I took it with me when I hid under the bed, and pretty nigh finished the whole blamed thing.

Well, that clears that up, I suppose, but I wonder if it's safe to come out now...and who the blazes is that BANGING on my front door?? Geez, Lew-steenking-weeze! Ain't they got no respect for a person who's ailin' with a sick headache??? Best go see who's there. But wait. Perhaps it's a trick. Perhaps it's one of them heathen savages waitin' for me to open the door so's they can pounce on me like a duck on a June-bug. Oh, dear...! Now what should I do??? Where's that gun??? Oh, here it how did She tell me this thing works?? *Hic! Hic!* Oooops...feelin' a bit woozy now that I've stood up, and this gun's so heavy, it's hard to control, and my head's sure a-throbbin' with pain, and my heart's sure a-poundin' with fear, and my hands are sure a-shakin' with nerves. *Hic-hic-hic-hic!*
And why's the room a-spinnin' around like this? Hector, boy...what shall I do?? Should I crawl back under the bed, or should I fling caution to the wind, and the front door, as well, and face Trouble head-on? What's that, boy? Why are you plodding slowly over to the door? You think I should open up and let 'em all have a blast of this here weapon?

OK, Hector, you lead the way, boy. Let's Rock 'n' Roll!!

Just you:
*Plod, wag tail, plod, wag tail*

and me:
*Lurch, hic!, aim gun in general DI-rection of door, hic!, lurch again, stagger*...............................

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