Friday, March 17, 2006

The Feud

I reckon I might have to declare an official feud between the Hollen an' the Flanagan clans if this day turns any worse.  My hometown of Beloved is all in a mess because of Jim Flanagan an' I am tryin' to resolve it an' get life here back to normal.

See, Jim told this story up to Columbus, Ohio a while back about some raccoons he got drunk with old beer.  I sort of thought that was a funny thing an came home talkin' about the story... you want to know about it ask Jim Flanagan.  I ain't even gettin' in that hot water again.

My Cousin Peanut thought it was just a hoot.  He could just see them coons carryin' on an' he wanted to try an' see if he could get critters likkered up.  He stood in the bushes round home with an open jar of moonshine for hours Wednesday night tryin' to lure coons out an' get 'em lit on shine.  I reckon the coons didn't like the smell 'cause none showed up.

He figured the only thing left to do was to pick on harmless,,, and caged critters that couldn't get away.  You may remember I have been on the Squirrel Fishin' circuit for ESPN for some time since I invented the sport.  To that end I keep my eight tiny squirrels in a big ol' log complete with individual doors an' brass plaques over each door with their names... Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid,' Fluffy.  Yes, they are the same eight squirrels that pull my little red wagon at Thanksgiving each year for the Beloved Thanksgiving Day Parade in which I am Santy.  Folks just love to see them in them little ol' hamster wheels I have welded onto the tongue of that red wagon... just a runnin' as hard as they can run, takin' me through the streets of Beloved as I spread Christmas cheer to my many cousins an' friends.

Well, Peanut got hold of Fluffy as the poor squirrel was sleepin' an dosed him good with moonshine.  Held Fluffy for a good while till he woke up.

Problem is, Fluffy is a mean drunk.  Fluffy lit into Cousin Peanut right hard, scratchin', bitin an runnin' that big ol' bushy tail right up Peanut's left nostril just for plain meanness!  Fluffy crawled down Cousin Peanut's shirt, bitin' an all till he got under Peanut's long johns an' discovered something that no one Cousin Peanut had his belly button pierced and had a ring in it!

Well, Fluffy commenced to doin' chin ups on that ring there and soon was pullin' on it, bitin' an tryin' to steal the thing.  By this time Cousin Peanut was on the ground screamin' an carryin' on so that my neighbor, who happens to be Peanut's Brother-In Law, Brother Woodrow Budder, pastor of the Booger Holler Holiness Church came out.  Brother Woodrow decided Peanut was possessed an' took to tryin' to drive the devil out.

That ticked off Fluffy to no end, givin' credit to some evil bein' who weren't even there.  Fluffy bit off that ring, opened it up an' drove it through his right ear so as to have a pirate look to himself an' came flyin' out the right cuff of Cousin Peanut's overalls.  He launched his sorry drunk self at Brother Woodrow who determined it was the Demon Rum... who shows up a lot back in the hills.  Woodrow ran to his pick up truck an' tore off down the holler toward the turn to Booger Holler, an ' his church.

Fluffy ran right after him, hopped into the back end of the truck an waited under an' old crazy quilt that Woodrow had layin' in the back.

When Woodrow ran into the church, Fluffy was right behind him.  Woodrow ran to the office an' Fluffy commenced to rain holy heck in the sanctuary.  He noticed a box to one side with lots of holes in it an' staggered over to investigate while he waited for Woodrow to come out.

The box was where Booger Holler Holiness Church kept their rattlesnake for the times the church had snake handlin's.  They called the snake Ol' Yeller 'cause it was so old the diamonds on its back had faded to yellow.  The kids in Sunday School would take Ol' Yeller an' paint new diamonds on him durin' Sunday School before a snake handlin'.  It weren't dangerous since Ol' Yeller had lost his fangs years before.

Well, Fluffy got in there an' saw Yeller curled round some tobaccer an' rollin' paper makin' himself a cigarette.  Fluffy was drunk already, bloody from wrasslin' with Cousin Peanut, had that ring in his ear an' was just a mess.  He scared Ol' Yeller to death right there an' as Yeller died that rolled cigarette flew up into the air where Fluffy caught it.  He ran with it to the alter, lit it on a candle burnin' there an smoked that dang thing right there in church.

Woodrow saw that an' had had it with that drunk squirrel.  He came out with a ping pong paddle, got hold of Fluffy's tail an' wore him out.

Fluffy didn't take that too well.  He got hold of Brother Woodrow right back an' when the dust settled the inside of Booger Holler Holiness Church was wrecked, Woodrow required 1,239 stitches an' Fluffy took off for downtown Beloved.

Annie Pankey is the owner of Pankey's Hankies, a fine linen, lace an' antique quilt store.  Annie is also just about a bubble off plumb.  She had heard about green beer for St. Patrick's Day celebrations from a Catholic friend of hers.  Now, they ain't a lot of Catholics much in Beloved, but Annie decided to reach out to them by havin' an interfaith green beer drinkin' contest to celebrate the Irish in all of us down home.  Problem is, she didn't have no recipe for the green beer.

Jim Flanagan had been sendin' his old beer down to some of his kin near my hometown of Beloved an' they had sold the old beer to Annie to experiment with to get just the right color green for the celebration today.  Folks kept tellin' her that a 50-50 mix of beer to green dye was too much, but she weren't listenin'.

About this time Fluffy snuck into town, startin' to sober up an' lookin' for likker.  He smelled that old beer an' climbed into Annie's place through an' open window.  Annie had been samplin' the beer since Tuesday an' didn't notice.

Fluffy fell into a mason jar full of beer - 50-50 beer dye mix an' had to drink his way out to keep from drownin'.  By the time he could climb out he was green inside an' out an' mad that he had to drink a whole quart of skunk beer.  Besides, his green fur was clashin' with his new pirate earring.

That dang squirrel has done liberated my other seven squirrels, stuck them all in mason jars full of green beer an' they are loose in town.  It is terrible.  I have to leave tonight right for a squirrel fishin' exhibition down in Richmond, Virginia.  I have caught Donner an' Comet, Oh My Darlin' has washed them, used some "Just for Men" hair dye to get them brown again an' is feedin' them strong coffee through tubes attached to an enema bag.

I have been in the streets of town all night with my squirrel fishin' rig, castin' line after line into the trees an on top of buildin's tryin' to get my squirrels back.  They weren't eatin' nuts like they usually do, so I had to resort to other things.  Right now I have Dasher on my line, caught him with a Vienna sausage an' some kraut served up on a Ritz cracker.  I have been tryin' to reel him in for near an hour.  I caught Donner an' Comet on some of them cocktail onions with a dash of bitters on them.  I might have to try some hot sauce on sardines if them squirrles don't sober up soon.

The rest of them squirrels are wanderin' through town, bangin' on doors, demandin' old skunky beer, Chex Mix an' carryin' them little cocktail umbrellas, opened over their heads to keep them dry so the green dye won't wash off.  Fluffy has been seen in the hills 'round home tryin' to start a squirrel revolution.

I don't know if I can catch them all in time.  I don't know if these are the last days of Beloved, of squirrel fishin', of civilization as we know it...  I'll get back to y'all later this weekend to update you.

All due to Jim Flanagan an his dang bad beer.

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