This was no ordinary mid-july summer day. I had my day all planned out. Had my normal routine-being a business man of high stature and all-my day was just the way I liked it. At least I did until I found myself in a pickle.
Who needs my help most, the damsel in distress or the road kill? That's my question of the day.
I was in a classy car, one of those Dick Tracy types, for that's the kind of guy I am, full of class. I was driving to work on this particular summer day with a funky swagger of a tune by Malicor, accompanied with the voice of the elegant Pamagotchi, when I got distracted. All I remeber was in my mirror I saw the begining of red fabric. Again I was driving, when out of nowhere, I squint my eyes and jerk my head down for a sneeze. My car swung backwards and forward again in a jolt. A woman's voice shrieks violently.
I pull over to the side, take the keys and step outside. My arm is spread out in front of me. "Are you all right?"
"You just ran over a skunk!" She shrieks. She was a young woman, sixteen or so. She was dressed as a peasant, She had long brown hair resting upon her shoulders complimented by ringlets. She stood out from the crowd with that screaming red cape of hers.
I bend down toward the ground, my arm gradually resting toward the poor helpless animal. "It's all right, I'm a taxidermist." I assure her no harm as I carry the skunks' limp body upon my chest. Get into the car, miss, I shall take you to the doctor."
She hesitates toward the passenger's seat. "Not with that thing in the car. . .or on my lap."
"Red do you want to go somewhere? You are in need of a ride, no?"
"I guess." She reluctantly plops into the car with the door slamming behind her. "What's the signifigance of this rodent egain?"
"It's my job; I'm a taxidermist." I place the dead skunk on a towel in the back seat.
I start the car and speed off. "I stuff dead animals."
"As a job?"
"Like you get paid?"
"Is a job something else to you?"
She twirls her head and looks out the window. I notice her belongings for the first time. "What's in the basket?"
"Wine and bread. My grandmother is sick so, I was orderd by my mom to cheer her up. But I got lost and strayed from the path there for meeting you."
Upon reaching a red light, I reach in front of the girl and open the glove compartment. "Here," I say, plopping a long wrapper into the basket. I'm sure grandma would like this." I place my hand back onto the steering wheel when she asks, "What is this?"
"Candy. It's called Strawberry Bootlaces. My grandmothers loved them. I suspect yours might as well."
"They look like Twizzlers."
"I assure you my dear, they are not."
"Excuse me, Sir," the girl untying her red cape asks. "Why are you dressed up in a suit?" She points to me, eyeing the dead rodent. "What's the signifigance with the brown suit and matching hat?"
"This isn't just any hat. It's a herringbone hat."
"A hat is a hat."
"You say that because you are quite possibly a teenager. Here, why don't you maull over a Strawberry Bootlace yourself."
Now tell me, what's your name and how did you stray from the path?"
"My name is Vanessa and I got lost after I started fucking a wolf. . . .along with a dildo."
I am startled beyond belief. I slam on the brakes and the wheels start to roar upon the pavement. I turn toward the girl with my elbow resting on the seat. "What did you just say?"
"My name is Vanessa." She starts licking her fingers. "Got any napkins? My fingers are still sticky from pancakes."
"In a minute! Vanessa, what did you say afterward about a wolf?"
"I wanted to know what it felt like to loose my virginity. So I fucked the wolf."
"I don't know who I should stuff," I say looking out the windshield. "Stuff the skunk, or the wolf?"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, I might be pregnant."
"Please tell me your joking?" She starts filing her nails.
"I'm a teenager, it's my job to be sarcastic! Can I watch you stuff the skunk? Because I gotta tell ya, that back seat of Dick Tracy's wannabe car is sti-i-i-nk-y-y-y."
"All right," I say, reasuringly-to myself more than the girl. Both palms stroking my face in frusteration. "Tell me where Grandma lives, Vanessa and I'll drop you off, and then I'll stuff the skunk-just for you and then I'll challenge that wolf to a duel."
"Whatever floats your boat."
"Now what is this I hear of a dildo?"
"It's blue and it vibrates. Here," She takes it out of a brown paper bag that reads:DON'T TELL with little dancing animals with suns and moons. The bag crinckles a bit until suddenly, she pulls out something long. It is a blue dildo. She points infront of her, "You can turn right here on the left. NO! I'm sorry-right. I have always had a bad sence of direction as long as I can remember."
The coversation dies down. I am contemplating how to handle this situation. I turn to a cottage and wait until she is safely in doors. Grandma waves from the window, so I assume all is well and accounted for. She took all her belongings with her. Except The Blue Dildo.
I arrive at work and place the skunk into safe keeping. Let it get hard before I play with it, so to speak.
I go to a tavern near by for a bite to eat, when who do I find but a wolf. Looking very dapper and sensationally guilty as ever. I wave my hand in the air motioning for him to come near. He catches my drift and trots over. He stops at my table, looking questionable. "How bout a game of Gin. Cocktails on me."
"All right!" The wolf plops down, chair screetching the floor which scratches the wood paint. The wolf drools a bit, then wipes his mouth with his arm-sleeve. "What do I owe for such complimenturay?"
I cock my head slightly to light a ciggaret. "I believe we have a friend in common." Smoke exits my nostrils and lips as I deal the cards. "Scotch on the Rocks," I say to a waitress. "And. . .for the wolf?"
"Rum," he says with a smirk. He eyes back at me as he picks up his cards.
I give him a stern expression and ask, "I believe we have a friend in common."
"Is there a reason why you gave a teenager a Blue vibrating Dildo?"
The wold slams his paws on th table, his cards flying all around. "Did you see Vanessa? Oh what a FOX!" He leans back into his seat, eyeing a waitress from the West of us. "Whew, Nelly!"
"No, I saw a human being, a child. What was your motive?" Our drinks arrive; I make a fist and quickly add, "No don't answer that. I'm a man, I know. But she was an innocent child trying to. . ."
The wolf burps. A few of the other men and bar tenders look at us.
I ask again. "Is there a reason why you Tom Fooled that poor girl?"
"Why ask me these questions at all?"
"Because I'm in the Taxidermy business and once I get an answer out of you, I wish to kill you."
Created: Jul 26, 2012Mrs.Tibbs23 Document Media