A day in the life of a rubber weasel

                                  A day in the life of a rubber weasel








FO’ SHIZZLE
      This story is actually about an antelope.  If you took an antelope, shrunk it down, took away its antelopeness, gave it a rubbery skin, and called it a weasel, it could easily pass as a rubber weasel. I guess. I am not really sure. But I do know the name of this book is about a rubber weasel, but that is a different story. You will have to buy the sequel to find about him.  Maybe not. Why do you keep asking me these stupid questions? My head hurts…….



         The year is 2027. World peace is still not happening. The hippie population is almost extinct, and much to popular dismay, the flying car has still not been invented (lying bastards!). In a world where time is of the essence, beauty is within, and people are just as hateful and money hungry as ever, I have came to find that even monkeys (like their superiors) enjoy lunging their crap at others for attention. 


         Thunder and lightning filled the night sky that infamous evening just a few miles short of the Oregon coastline. Who would have thought that a storm so powerful in such a small unpopular tourist town, could have spurred such controversy. It was just outside of the small town on an antelope ranch that a record sized lighting bolt hit the surface of the earth causing disastrous effects.  Farmer Willie was terrified, hiding under his bed, holding a prize winning thirty pound pickle close to his chest. It had been many years that he had seen weather the likes of this. “I got you Louise” he cried as he shook rocking his pickle. “ I isn’t gonna let them take you away again” It was just weeks earlier that the police had confiscated his giant cucumber pending an investigation into what appeared as a felony vegetable abuse charge.
          Fifty feet away in the back of the twelve bedroom mansion that was encased by an antelope plantation, a herd of antelope were gathered next to the 1985 Ferrari driven by the ninety four year old mack daddy called “Farmer Big Pickle” by his groupies at the community college vegetable lovers association.  There he stood with the beauty and grace that only every antelope desired, Andy was calling out to his herd “Take Cover!” “We Must Flee” “Antelopes Unite”  He herded most of them into the what was considered as the local dance hall, a place that people came from miles around to see Farmer Willie polka with his pickle.
         It was really a barn that housed a dance floor, two hot tubs for the VIP’s, a bar, twelve chickens, and a collection of prize winning vegetables. The walls were shrouded with purple velvet trimmed with black marble. Neon lighting lined the bar as disco balls lit up the black lit room. Cages were carefully placed around the room to ensure that everyone in the joint had a view of the future farmers of America strip club dancers. It was definitely a place that made anyone want to caress their vegetation.          
         “Get inside!” yelled the leader of the antelope tribe. The rain pounded the side of the rustic barn, as the wind made wrath with everything in its path. Andy had managed to get who he thought was everybody onto the dance floor. It was a Thursday, Ladies Night, so there was no cover for the ladies of the group. Fortunately, Andy had saved some money in case of an emergency. After he had tipped the bouncer at the door, he had called for a meeting of the elders in the group.
         The wind howled and was crashing into the side of the barn which sounded as if you had stuck a bunch of cats into a tennis ball launcher and shot them from every direction into the recent addition of Farmer Willie’s plantation.
          All the while Willie was stroking his pickle, giving comfort at a time where there was none. He wanted to ensure his pickle was taken care of.  I can’t really blame him. If you had a pickle that large, wouldn’t you be proud too? Tears had rolled down the cheeks of the youthful elderly man. His squinty eyes filled with fear as he shivered. He moaned words of comfort to the giant green condiment. Words that he himself had doubted. “Stay strong Willie” he thought. “Don’t let the pickle see your fear”.  The infamous Farmer Big Pickle was terrified.

“We need a role call!” yelled one of the elders. The techno music shrieked through the giant speakers, as a fury of different colored lights shot across the dark room. The elders of the group consisted of four members.
         Andy, the sexiest, wisest, and smartest of the antelope was the superior of the elders. The other three were voted in via text by the other antelope (don’t ask how), and carried the same name. “Let’s do that. Go around and get a tally of the entire herd.” Andy demanded of his fellow elder named Franz.  By this time the elders had made themselves at home in the tomato shaped hot tub. “We need to ensure everyone had made it to safety.”
         Franz had gotten up, grabbed a towel, and dried off. “We are missing Hattie!” screamed one of the young teen antelopes running up knocking Franz to the floor. “Hattie?” asked Andy. (Have you ever had a moment where your heart jumps into your chest and your stress level peaks due to the fact that you might not see your secret part time antelope lover again?) Andy froze.
         He had met Hattie earlier that year during one of Willie’s annual special celebrations. It was a night that will forever be remembered by those sober enough to remember it. Farmer Willie had thrown the largest garden party in town. People flocked from miles around to show off their vegetables. Hattie was accompanied by a young blond bombshell named Corina. 
         Hattie and Corina lived in a flat in the Upper East Side. Corina had been infatuated by the owner of the largest pickle in town.  Hattie and Andy had been hot for each other since they first met, but because of the elder rules and regulations handbook, Andy was not allowed to have relations with any antelopes bearing the name “Hattie”. The rule was first introduced in the late 1920’s during the antelope migration at a time when the name Hattie meant in antelope terms “Bisisatch”.          Andy was true to his position as the top banana, so the affair had to be kept secret even though he knew that the name meant nothing to him.          
          “We must find her!” Everyone started to panic. “She could not have possibly have weathered this storm.” Franz yelled as he shook Andy’s shoulders. “She is gone” “You are crazy to go back out there!” Andy pushed his long time friend, Franz. “Get back!” Andy screamed as he pushed the other two elders named Franz and Franz. “If you won’t help, then I must go alone!” The room had grown silent as the other antelope watched Andy grab a shot of tequila off of the bar and head straight to the door. “If I am not back in twenty, then you must take over my position.” Andy said as Franz had followed quickly behind him.
         “But who is going to take on the giant bunnies?” The antelopes were actually only there to protect the farmer’s prize vegetables from the bunnies. Some grew to be at least twelve feet tall.  The antelope took great pride in taking on and defeating the giant bunnies. The bunnies were actually kind animals until they had come across Big Willie’s prize collection.          Filled with lust for the giant hamburger toppings, they became angry, stopping at no means to eat the precious veggies. They had learned several martial arts, even dressed as ninjas in disguise, and Andy had fought them every time they trespassed onto the property, sometimes it meant to the death.  I could continue on for days about the giant ninja rabbits, but that would take away from the antelope story, and that would be really just be uncool to do right now.
         “I am sure that you can handle them.” Andy replied as he checked to make sure his bracelet was on his wrist for access to the club later. “Andy…Please think about this!!” Franz yelled as he fell to his knees watching Andy walk out the door into the hellacious weather. “ANDY!” “ANDY!”  No answer. The door slammed shut. Franz’s eyes filled with tears as he saw his hero flee out the door.  Everyone in the barn was aware of the risk that Andy had bestowed to save a fellow antelope as they toasted their drinks to his safety.

         Once outside, Andy had headed towards the house, hoping that somehow she had gotten in. Farmer Willie always welcomed the antelope in for a drink or two. He ran as fast as his Reebok Pumps could carry him dodging the debris flying through the air in the 80 mile winds. His shirt was soaking wet. His green M&M tie resting on his shoulder.  Tears of fear ran across his face and down the side of his enormous cheeks as he jumped over all the shit on the ground.
         He made the 60 yard dash to the house, did a tuck and dive across the side yard and came to rest with his back to the wall five feet from the back door. He stayed there watching the storm abuse the coast like a dirty little whore needing a good spanking, clutching a really large stick. He felt like a warrior staring death in the face and spitting on it. His back crawled along the wall holding the stick upright, ready to attack. As he made his way to the door, all he could think about was the last time that he and Hattie were together. It was a beautiful day as they strolled along the beach hand in hand, singing songs of the 80’s. “I’m you’re venus” he muttered slowly as he approached the door, mostly tears ran down the side of  his masculine jaw, as rain pounded his fur like two blood thirsty Chihuahuas scrappin’ over a raw T bone at the festival of fur skiing event (call 800-dog ticks for tickets) held annually in New Jersey.
         A “BOOM” screeched around him as he burst through the door only to see what appeared to be a banana splattered all over the neon lit counters lining the very impressive kitchen area. It was hard to make out with only light coming off the powerful lightning. The walls made mostly of bamboo stalks and fine silk things from far away distant planets where local aliens of all sort congregated on how to destroy earth…A place called “LOS ANGELES”.  We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a very important announcement from the writer of this brilliant prize winning novel….
         Dear Reader,
         I would like to apologize to you by turning this peaceful harmonic story where butterflies bloom into a horrific nightmare of a story line by bringing light onto a very shady topic….that Hollywood will destroy us! Read More.. And Brush Your Teeth…And stay in school… Fo’schizzle

         The Banana looked as it had been mutilated. “This could not have been caused by the storm” thought Andy as he examined the corpse briefly before dashing to the hall to find Hattie.  Thoughts of the torture that banana suffered rushed through his head as he scurried down the hall using it as a guide. 
         Suddenly, he comes to a sliding stop, his feet sliding around on the slick wood flooring. The flooring was once renovated to look and feel like a basketball court. The farmer had it waxed daily to have a better slide when he wanted to get to the bathroom quickly.
         His face turned to the right as he slid past the open doorway. With his bark arched, he grabbed a hold of the door with his right paw. His feet were scribbling across the wall as he reached his left hand to meet his right. He gained control, stood up and shook off his clothes. He peered into the master bedroom. He heard a trembling moan. Terror ran across his face as thoughts of the horrible things that may lie inside the pitch black room smeared through his mind.
         Thunder pounded the side of the red and yellow two toned barn. Antelopes filled the makeshift dance club. Many of them too nervous to boogey down anymore were passed out across the velvety soft furniture. The elders were sitting high up on the top floor.  Grief felt heavy in the air as the three poor scared bastards sat across from each other. “I’m scared Franz.” blowing smoke out of his mouth as he spoke.  His bloodshot eyes peered over to Franz. Franz sipping a daiquiri, brought his head up and said “iz cool baby” in the sexiest tone an antelope could mutter from his grizzly face. His long jacket was of the finest Brazilian ostrich. Fur from the Egyptian Long haired sand badger lined the collar and seam. It was the finest pimp jacket ever worn by an antelope. He had traded it on EBay for an eighty two Volvo and a box of John Denver memorabilia. The sounds of Music blared over the tall wall mounted speakers. Lights flew across the room in an assortment of beautiful colors. This was a bumpin’ club even during the worst of disaster.  “Don’t worry Franz.” “Everything will be okay.” “You’ve got to believe in Andy.”
         At that moment silence fell across the 16,000 sq. ft. club. The only things seen in the blackened club was the battery operated, light up ink pocket protectors, worn only by the chess tournament winners in the northwest division Olympic qualifying tournament finals sponsored by “PPI”, a company who claims to be the best in customer satisfaction for Antelope pocket protection in the world.
         The winners of the Division Finals were considered the bravest of soldiers in the chess army, were usually found in the most happening cities such as Hollywood and New York. This small town happened to have the privilege of claiming to have twenty six live there at the plantation. They all were all close friends to the leader, Andy who happened to be at the top of his game before his near fatal bishop move which caused him to spend eight months in a coma, and also forced an untimely retirement from the infamous “Andy The Great” aka “Big Chessy Sexy Finessee CaressMe Andyesse”. It was a sad day for Antelope everywhere. 
         It took a few seconds for the antelope to realize what happened as they wondered what the hell I was just saying there, most of staring at the chess champions lit up pockets holding the finest ink pens from Europe. It was a spectacular display of miniature lights. I can totally understand why they were in awe at the laser light show.
         As soon as they realized the club had lost power, they panicked, trampling over each other like a bunch of loony old senior citizens at a “Buy 1 Get 4 Free” sale at the largest denture store in Nebraska. People flocked from miles around to witness the grand opening. It was MADNESS, I say.
         The antelope screamed awfully, like girls, as they bum rushed the door. Have you ever heard an antelope scream? It is a very awful sound. Be thankful that you are reading this instead of actually hearing it. Be very thankful. The more thankful, the better. I mean it. The screams were so loud and awful that even the vegetarian lover cheerleaders hanging out in the indoor Jacuzzi were debating the survival of the antelope. 
         If you could morph over to the other side of the extremely well decorated mansion, you would find Andy barging into the room where the old man was hidden under the bed. Andy holding his head high despite the dark, had heard the screams across the yard he had recently trekked, and briskly looked around the room for anything he could use as a weapon in case of a ninja bunny surprise attack.
         Lightning struck causing the shadow of Andy to appear as an F.V.I.  (Federal Vegetable Investigations) SWAT officer holding a giant parrot. The farmer let out a screech which in turn caused Andy to scream, causing the F.V.I. agent’s parrot to scream, which caused the F.V.I. agent to scream, and they were just funny looking shadows on the wall.
Or were they?
         The F.V.I. was just itchin’ to get their hands on Farmer Willie’s home grown fertilizer, and they used parrots as surveillance units. So it is possible that a F.V.I. agent is there. 
         Andy jumps against the wall grabs a hold of a Japanese paperweight and tosses it straight towards the shadowy figure and bonks the parrot square in the head. The parrot falls over to the floor as the secret agent jumps on top of Andy. Andy and the agent struggle as the terrified old man quivers in fear. “Oh dear pickle, How I have enjoyed raising you” the farmer cried as he gently stroked his elderly cucumber.
         He knew this day was near since he started having horrific visions during soccer practice. He had gotten a ball kicked at his head by a former rival, which caused him to have revelations of future events. Since the warm sunny day before The Senior Citizens Aggressive Soccer Event, the farmer hasn’t been the same.
         The parrot crawled across the floor, moving one wing slowly to the other, trying to make his way to the doorway but was too tired and with his last breath muttered the lyrics to “Yesterday”. The agent stopped wrestling with the bruised Antelope, fell to his knees, and cried. It was a beautiful moment as he raised the parrot over his head and cried “Fly away birdie, fly away”. Tears ran across his rough face.
         The many years on the force, working side by side with his feathered partner, had created a relationship that could never be broken. He knew this was the end. With a vengeful glare he twisted his head and neck to an 84 degree angle, his strong upper body only twisted to a 42 degree angle, but still dramatic looking, only to have his face met with the  hard aluminum surrounding a can of refried beans. Big Willie kept them all throughout the house in case of an emergency. It turned out his intuition was dead on.
         The agent fell around and hit the floor. Andy jumped up on top of him and secured him with some duct tape. He bound his arms and his feet to a chair. “You just got refried beaned punk!”
         The bad ass super hero antelope called out “Who’s here?” The farmer heard the cries of his left hand antelope, and scurried out from under the bed. “It’s me, your daddy!” Big Willie cried. Andy and the farmer ran towards each other in this slow motion type run. Andy kinda of ran like a girl. His arms were bent up and he swung his hips to the side like really prissy girls who can’t run do.
         The farmer looked manlier, but still ran funny. He was suffering from his legs falling asleep under the bed. The blood rushed to his legs and they hurt bad. He kinda ran on his heels grabbing onto whatever he could to keep his balance. It really doesn’t feel that good when that happens, and being as old as the old farmer was, it had to suck!
         Just at that very moment, a rooster cried out a warning “cock-a-doodle-doo”. A glimpse of sunlight peered through the stained glass mural of two monkeys fighting over a can of raviolis, the farmer had engraved last summer in remembrance of his old companion, “Cookies”. 
         “The sun.” muttered Andy. He limped towards the window, pulled the string on the blinds. Then pulled the other string on the blinds. “How do I raise this thing” asked the wannabe elk in a frustrated manner. “Pull the one on the right”. “No, the other right”. The farmer had to make his way to the window to help the confused animal. The farmer stepped up close to Andy, pulled the string on the left, and opened the blinds to a magnificent view of the sunrise. Yes, the antelope is smarter than the farmer.
         As Andy and the farmer peered out side, it had become apparent that the rest of the herd had one hell of a wild party the night before. “Hattie” sweat dripped off the brow of the brave soldier. “I must find her!” Andy grabbed a can of the finest refried beans and headed for the door. He scurried down the hall. “Hattie” “Hattie, Where are you?”.
         Just then he came to a stop. Three doors ahead, she slips her beautiful head around the corner. “Andy?”  “Why are you crying?” “You’re O.K.!” he cries as he rushes to meet her. He stops and falls to her chest. She takes a hold of his head stroking through his beautiful hair. “What is wrong, you look like a little girl crying like that”. “Sorry, Hattie. I just had a long night. Please forgive me. I am just happy to see you safe.”
         The couple made their way outside the house through the kitchen. It was a brutal job done on that banana. His peel laid in pieces all over the counter. “How awful!” “How could someone do that to that poor banana?” Hattie buried her paw into his as they stepped over doorway onto the rain soaked grass. The sun was quickly coming up.
         As they made their way to the barn, Hattie and Andy had told each other how they really felt about each other. They had decided that today would be the day they proclaimed their love for each other to the rest of the herd. This was considered as dangerous as treason in the antelope community. They knew that this may end all ties with their friends and family. It was a risk worth taking.
“Andy” cried Franz. He raised himself up off the rain soaked grass out in front of the barn. “How did I get out here?” he asked as he grabbed his forehead. He squinted, trying to make out where everybody was. They ran to meet each other. The antelope started to rise up as the sun had no mercy on their faces. Their heads hurt with a thousands headaches. A large grumble of moans filled the morning air.
         As they met to discuss the recent events over a large breakfast, Andy stood up and proclaimed his love to Hattie. “I have traveled on many journeys throughout my lifetime looking for the one place that I belong, a place that has no fear, no pain, and no sadness. I have found that place in you. My love for you grows, with every touch, with your every breath. I have come to find that what I thought couldn’t possibly exist was found in the one person I couldn’t have.” 
         The antelope were shocked. “Do you know what this means, Andy?” asked Franz. “I know.” Andy made his way to the side of the barn. Hattie followed. “It’s going to be okay.” Hattie cried.  She was right. The antelope agreed that they couldn’t thrive as a community without their fearless leader.
         The CSI police team came and concluded that the secret rouge agent had taken the life of the banana, and it was no time before he was committed to spend time in a correctional vegetable care facility.
         Big Willie continued to grow vegetables to record sizes using his secret fertilizer, and making fat bank because of it.
         The story will forever be told in that small coastal town. Big Willie would eventually be given the town’s keys, which includes all the keys to every private bathroom in town, including the mayor’s.
         Andy and Hattie would continue to lead the best Antelope guard herd ever, fighting giant ninja bunnies, and partying like antelope never should.                                                        The end !