I focused on the hirsute creature lying next to me. It was Pearly in his Badger suit! Using my training as a Paranormal Investigation Theorist I quickly put my method of consciousness-evaluation to the test - I stuck my thumb in his eye. His reaction was positive, although he landed awkwardly. Wiping the damp moss from his mouth, Pearly recounted his harrowing escape from four hunters the previous day. I turned his head to the right and pointed out the four men around the campfire, asking him if those were his pursuers.
One of the men turned to look at us and gestured to the others. They got up and came towards us with a menacing look.
They were all heavy set men. The youngest one had a tuft of hair that came to a point on top of his head.
The oldest had a great white beard, like the wizard in my recurring dream. The two middle aged fellows in the middle were of medium build and almost indistinguishable from one another. (Here's a picture of two of the fellows from our reunion last week):

As they approached, I used sign language to communicate and show them I was a man of peace, but it was obvious that they were not literate in "visual Krutthammer". I then tried my German on them but the twins began to cry. What I thought meant "Hello, I am a friendly paranormal investigation theorist" came out "Your Grandmother was a Nazi collaborator".
Having now exhausted my options, I settled on english. That seemed to ease the tension but the twins still haven't gotten over our initial introduction. The wizard spoke first and asked if I was all right. I told him I was fine and that the grapefruit sized swelling from the dart would go down within a few weeks. Then they explained that they were going to spend the day building a cage of pine saplings and moss and that they were going to take the giant badger into town the following day. It turned out that they were Cryptozoologists from Turtleford, on the Turtle River in the Turtle Lakes region of Saskatchewan. I was very pleased that they were trained in a similar discipline to mine but it was obvious that my training was far superior to theirs. I pointed out that their prize catch was wearing jeans and that he was seeing out of his mouth since the badger head was two sizes too big. I also pointed out that he answers to the name "Pearly", and that his body hair was actually interior lining from an old winter coat stitched together with fishing line.
The Blaine twins, aspiring NASCAR drivers who ran the demolition derby outside of Balgonie, began to cry again as they saw their dreams of being world famous drivers turn to vapor. They had all planned to take their giant badger on a world tour, make millions and then buy a huge tract of land where they would construct their own racecourse and found their own racing circuit - called "SASKAR".
The wizard, who's name was Sheldrake, calmly took out a great big magnifying glass and smacked Pearly on the side of his head, loosening the chipmunk that was lodged in his badger ear.
The younger man, simply called "Spike", was impressed with my skilled observations and asked if he could study with me in the future, because that was where we would have to spend the rest of our lives.
I was touched by Spike's poetic sentiment. I then pointed out the irony that Pearly was in fact the Cryptozoology instructor at the Krutthammer Institute! I was about to help Pearly out of his disguise when we were all frozen by a piercing wail coming out of the distant darkness!
(to be continued)
7 comments:
Blitz, did you take too much cough syrup again?
BLITZ!!!! Did you notice there's a flying saucer in that photo???!!!! PROOF!!!!!!!!!!!
Mr Krutthammer.
I just read a foul jounal piece on the subject of your whimsical blog by a certain John Fastendin.
http://johnfastendin.livejournal.com/ He attacked your very right to live! I cannot sit by while an innocent, kindly gentleman such as yourself is dragged through the mud by a cruel pompous creature like him. He is riling up his millions of fans against you.
This blog is getting a little too violent. I was using it to teach journalism to my grade one class, but it looks like it is becoming unsuitable for that purpose. It is a shame, because each morning the children eagerly ask, "Please Sister Ploppi, tell us what wonderful adventures Mr. Blitz is up to today!" What shall I say to them? "Children, Blitz is smacking Lem again with a frying pan." "Children, Blitz and Pearly are cannibals." You have put me in a very difficult spot.
Harold Shmend, have you no shame?
Before Harold spews any more psychoanalytical drivel, let me assure him that his "compromises" are a load of bunk. I use this delightfully pejorative term, "bunk" —an alternative from the same page of my criminal-slang lexicon would serve just as well —because some people are responsible and others are not.
Harold falls into the category of "not".
For the sake of clarity, let me quickly note that somebody has to bring strength to our families, power to our nation, and health to our cities. That somebody can be you.
What planet are you on, John Fastendin?
I can't leave this alone. It's too crucial.
The last time I told Blitz's stooges (and friends, they are myriad --Dr. Ping, Ethan Frung, Harold Shmeng, and other buffons) that I want to improve the physical and spiritual quality of life for the population at present and for those yet to come they declared in response, "But individual worth is defined by race, ethnicity, religion, or national origin."
Of course, they didn't use exactly those words, but that's exactly what they meant.
In asserting that we can change the truth if we don't like it the way it is, Blitz demonstrates an astounding narrowness of vision. You might think that anyone who doesn't know that Blitz is grotty must be inhabiting a different world. Well, if that's the case, then I'm afraid Blitz's peons must have spent the past month on Mars.
As soon he takes us beyond the point of no return, the next thing we'll hear him say is, "Oops, made a mistake".
I appreciate feedback and other people's views on subjects. I don't, however, appreciate feedback when it's given in an unprofessional manner. Read that last sentence again, please.
While this letter hasn't provided anything in the way of a concrete plan of action, it may help us focus our thinking a little better when we do work out a plan. For now, we must change the world for the better.
I will undoubtedly be happy to have your help in this endeavor.
Post a Comment