Thursday, September 5, 2013

Faux Fox Fiction, Where Are You, Chapter 1

My friends thought it would be funny to send me this viral video from Norway:

I must be insane now, I can't get the lyrics out of my head.  The beat is pretty catchy, but the lyrics...  Hahaha, it grows on you the more you listen to it.

So I spent the day recuperating, I'm feeling much better.  Thank you to all the people who sent messages or posted comments asking how I was doing and sending me get well messages.

I decided to open up a bit with my storytelling, it's coming to light that apparently my well of lies is drying and this exercise is pushing me to dig and dig.  I'm actually really happy with this new 100 story, and I'm hoping you will enjoy reading it as I have enjoyed writing it.  I had to trim it a lot after writing it down.

Like all things since I've started the blog up again:  Here is the 100 story for Thursday, an old 100 word story, and part of a project I started but stopped in order to polish my writing and storytelling skills (my way of saying I got lazy).  The last story I did with footnotes so pardon the editing/placement of them in the blog, I moved them closer to where you can find them without having to scroll all the way down to see them.

Enjoy the stories and please feel free to share them, to kit and kin and to any meadow voles.

09/05/2013 (Thursday)- Faux Fox Fiction

As I sat at my desk pouring words into a page, my friend’s little girl walked in with a question- like all little folks her question wasn’t simple. 

“What does a fox say?”

“It depends,” I started.


“Well.  They bark, howl, and cry; but mostly they will lie.  They lie to get away from kit and kin, they lie to lull the meadow voles to let them in, they lie to little children through stories to lead them in their den.”

She smiled satisfied and hopped off to play, as I quietly tucked my black red tail away.

8/15/11 (Monday)- Where Are You?

She eludes me tonight, no matter what I do I cannot seem to hold her.  To have her whisper what I need, to have her tell me what to do.  I type, write, scribble, and all I end up with is nonsensical gibberish!

I sought solace with my friends Jose, and Johnny.  They used to bring her to me, now however their help is as empty as my glass.  One more shot!

I stumble (thrown) back out to the streets with what’s left of Mr. Walker.  He understands.  I don’t need her.  Let us go find your other friends Johnny!

Chapter 1 Happy Birthday

            There are places of power around the world.  Sacred sites that mankind is naturally drawn to: Stonehenge, the Grand Canyon, Outlet Malls, a certain bed and breakfast- areas around the world inspiring awe and wonder in all of us.  These spiritual sources of power invite us to build Temples of Worship, Kingdoms of Glory, and Mental Institutions[1] upon them.  Through this they become tied to myths and legends, mentioned in fairy tales and old wives tales never truly lost... well, just slightly forgotten like old dusty memories that become buried under the plus-size weight of time.        

These sacred sites call to us, some yelling out loudly through billboards dotted along the highways with family discount packages and combined park combo deals.  The truly magical ones that still exist faintly whisper through the ethers of time and space— reaching out to us through our dreams asking us to remember them. 

Then there are the bad ones.  Malicious places of power forcing us to stare at the darker side of our humanity.  Foul sacred sites bending the knees of men, breaking their wills, and sapping their spirits.  There is one such place in Florida- deep within its cold, dank and sinister reclaimed swamplands.  

A place of plastic fantasy. 

A place the lost and depraved are employed[2].

A place riddled with the wailing and gnashing of a thousand mouths lined up for that one good ride with a wait time of two hours… or more.

Disney World.

 [1] It is a universally accepted truth that any one pursuing a career that employs both religion and governance suffer mentally from the powerful internal struggle of Religious Babble v. Common Sense.  The lucky few that survive are driven insane while the unlucky ones are transformed into Republicans.

[2] Great benefits and an excellent retirement plan help in keeping the lost and depraved from escaping their cages.


            Dark summer storm clouds rolled over the Disney theme park blotting out the afternoon sun.  Visitors ran for cover to the side stores and restaurants offering what little sanctuary they can from the coming storm as the winds picked up strength.  Costumed characters with oversized heads and park attendants saw to the safety of the guests before seeking shelter for themselves.  Lightning danced skittishly under the black bellies of the foreboding clouds, winds howled in anger and agony, and then the clouds released their heavy full bladders with a huge wet sigh of relief. 

            A deluge of frogs and toads fell upon the theme park.  Green-red splatters marked the unfortunate meeting of soft squishy amphibians with hard stubborn concrete, only a few lucky ones survived by landing into the manmade lake and water attractions of the park.  Guests and attendants watched in stunned silence at this strange awesome display of nature.  Meteorologists and scientists later on speculated that tadpoles or frog/toad eggs may have been carried up during a sudden evaporation.  Realists pointed out that they must have fallen out from a plane as a prank.  Theologians pointed to Holy Scriptures and quickly marked it as a sign of the End Times.  Children however believed that Kermit and friends were finally invading Disney.  The children came pretty close to the right answer.

            Out in the middle of it all were two park employees stranded on a bench underneath a tree.  One of them dressed in a pink Easter Bunny costume, its pink matted fur drenched in a mix of frog slime and viscera.  The other, a beautiful young woman wearing a 1950’s journalist outfit carrying a state of the art camera- the cardboard on her fedora announcing ‘Your Memories $5.’   

            “Hey Josh, got a smoke on you?” Ney Mos├Żn asked as she took the fedora off letting her curly shoulder length red hair spill out.  Ney was a stunner to look at even attired in male clothing. 

            “This costume doesn’t have pockets.  Plus we’re on shift,” Josh answered as sternly as one could while wearing a pink bunny costume, “No smoking allowed.  We’ll get fired for it and worse if we get out of character.” 

            Ney pouted her full red lips.  A frog tumbled down from the branches of the oak tree and landed between them on the bench, miraculously still alive.  The frog smiled happily at its luck.  Ribbit, it said.

            “Worse than being stranded in a shit storm of frogs and toads?” she asked as she slapped the happy survivor[3] off the bench, wiping the slime from her hand afterward on the pink bunny’s slime encrusted fur.

[3] Who at the time was dancing and singing (croaking) his own rendition of “What a Wonderful World,” and was just getting to the really good part of the song.  Later on he revisited this horrible experience in his life and wrote a hit country blues infused song based on it, “Rainin’ on the Bench (She Slaps Too Hard for a Woman!).

            “Um…” the oversized head of the bunny costume turning side to side taking in the surreal nature of the storm around them, “Yes?”

            The storm happily continued to pour its hapless slimy amphibious raindrops around them.  

            “You are the most depressing bunny in the park.  What’s the matter with you anyway?”  she said hating the silence even more than the wet sounds of frogs landing with a dull final splat. 

            “Well… if you must know.  It’s my birthday.”  Josh shared with her sheepishly.

            “Oh.  Why didn’t you ask for time off?” 

            “Um… Bad shit always happens whenever I celebrated my birthday.  I thought this year I’d be able to avoid all that bad juju by coming to work.”  He sighed.

            A giant fork of lightning streaked across the sky, incinerating frogs and toads as it traced its destructive path, followed by the loud cracking boom of thunder.  The dark clouds grew even darker.  The frogs and toads seemed to drop even faster… it looked as though they got even fatter as well.

            “Happy Birthday Josh.”