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You deserve a prize for readin the whole danm thing.

The Summer 2001 Update

Page 50 of 50


Where the old basterd is going

Granfather looked shocked and treid to writhe and thrash in protest. One of the old basterd's new owners exammined Granfather's mouth, and then the, ahem, exit hole in the rear of him. The other fellow contineud to rap his knuckells allover Granp's resin laqured body. The old basterd cursed and howled.

"Hollow, yah," said one German, half to himself in groanning monotone. "Look how authentic zee creature seems."

The other answored, "Yah, und it comes mit der On-Star system, already installed, no less. American technologey still leads on der Infobahn, but on der Auto-bahn, German ingenuity still, how do you say? KICKS OSS."

I finaly spoke up through my streaming tears and asked, "Who ARE you evil people?" .

"Vee are Investerfolk: Wenture capitalists mit many Wentures. One of our Wentures is to invest in mini golf courses, Yah."

They went on to explian that Granfather's fiberglassed exterior and hideous nature made him perfect for their new, lowclass miniatture-golf atractions. They sounded like they plan to create a chain of such mini-golf cources in every shabby town in the former Eastern block. If only to keep people from spendin their squalid days doin things like procreating, gettin drunk, or black marketeering between one anothor stolen horsemeat blood sausages.

"Golf ballzen will enter dis hole here, und exit dat hole dere, Yah," they said, pointing and poking at both ends of Granfather who was trembling and livid at the thoght of what will happen to him. He started to scream bloodey murder when one of them sugested they upgrade the old basterd to a Par Four by drilling into his nose and instaling a giant rotating windmill to make it a harder putt. Uncle Zeke painfuley ripped off one of his own dreadlocks and stuffed it in Granfather's mouth to queit him, while the two investors rudely discused among themselves (but graciousley in English for our benefit) their endless options for the resin encrousted beast.

"Perhaps vee place dis motorized Clinton statue in our Golf Course of der Disgraced American Leaders," said Horst, nodding. Gerhardt repleid, "Yah. Ask the low-class rural peasantfolk if dey also haff a Nixon available."

They take Granfather

The next few minnutes were a blur. Granfather was remmoved from his wheelchair and loaded up into the Tahoe. (The wheelchair was not part of the deal and besides, they didnt want the old basterd rolling away.)

"Get in der large gass guzzelor, Mister Stinky," said the Germans, each gripping one of his spindly, hard as a rock skinny apelike arms, "I think vee shall call you Mister Stinky."

"But he is a humen being!" I screammed. "No he is not!", the County Clerk said, producing from his pocket a depposition titled, Diagnosis: Not Clinically or Legaly Human and that was signed by a whole bunch of people ranging from the Belgian Criptozoolocal Soceity to the Discovery Channel atesting to the fact that Granfather was indeed a "Non-Human entity" best described as a "Nature's only true placental reptile," plus is also probly a crustacean-simian hybrid, though no one chose to actualy go public with it.

The County Clerk handed notorized copies of the deppostion to everyone present, and sniffed smugley to the sheriff, "Officer, will you please give our European guests a Police escort strait to the Regional Air Field."

The One Consollation

Granfather howled out to me through the rear window as the vehicol sped off up the rutted track back to the state Highway turnoff in a cloud of claydust, "BWAH! BWAH! HEPP ME! HEPP ME! ONLY YOU KIN RESCUE ME! ONLY YOU KIN SAVE MY PORE SCRAGGLY ASS! YUH HEAR ME, YUH UGLY STUPID DUMBASS?

"I..AM...NOT...AN ANIMAL!" he cried dramattically like The Elephent Man, but the quickly added, "WAAL, NOW, MEBBE I PROBLY IS, BUT I JEST DON'T WANNA GO WITH 'EM...

"...BECAUSE I ONLY JUST BEGUN TO ABUSE MAH FAMBLY AND LOVED ONES, AND THAR'S SO MUCH MORE NASTY WICKED EVIL TO DOoooooooooooooooooooo!...he cried as he disapeared out of both sight, and earshot. (We still coud smell the basterd though.)

Dispite the horror of losing him twice in one year, the fact that he creid out to me in his moment of need, was a boost to my poor flailing self image. He is still my grandfather. Deep down I am STILL not ashamed to say I love the old basterd. (Althuogh it really does smell better around here).

Spike vows revenge

Spike was so pissed abuot the whole thing, but only cause he feels like he was ripped off. He says that he will do what he can to get the old beast back. I commended him for this, but then Spike added that part of why he's pissed is cause he hasnt yet had the chance to take revenge on the old basterd himself.

"I never knew this proof-of-Beastship deposition exsisted," said Spike, his face brightenning. "The sheriff says if I kill him the worst I'd get is an Animal Creulty citation."

A tough Decission

That Monday I sat in the Humen Resources office of Cyberblop right across from the head of H.R, my anoying boss Tilde, and the Lady Who Screams at Everyone. I had asked if I coud possibly get a few weeks off for Personol Time. Other than Tilde they were extremly uncooperative and very haughtey and insensitive. I tried to explain the sittuation - I had to go to Eurrope to rescue my grandfather who will soon be installed out-of-doors as a Mini-golf hole. They did not like my story one bit.

"You already TOOK a Leave of Absense to bring him to a foreign non-human tourist atraction," the H.R. lady said impatiently, mentioning my recent trip to bring the old basterd down to Costo Rica. My voice full of tears I pleaded, "Yes, but THIS time I want to bring him BACK from one!"

I must admit I did not handle it well. Crying and crying and so full of hurt and rejection I told them that one day when they must care for an elderley family member, I hope they are shown more mercy.

The tough decission I had to make involved their threat to fire me if I did leave that night with Spike to intercept the Krouts. They said it was my decission. I thoght about it hard.

I recieve some Secret Informattion

I had it on good authoritty that the German investors were not leaving America imediatly. At first they were, but after spending the night with him in the motel, they were both fascinated and horified by what they had actualy received. The two investers realized that what they had on their hands was a valuable monstor.

Also it appeared that they were split on what they shoud do. Horst wanted the danm thing melted down, and re-cast as a fiberglass rhino or somthing, (or else sold to the friggin Swiss as an offensive, Rated-R chocolate mold), while Gerhardt favored tearing it open and examining its circuits. If Granfather was truly a mysterrious non-human beast, they figured, they might have a chance at reselling it for allot more money. If instead it was some sort of elaboratly advanced interactive Tamagotchi, then they woud steal the technology.

As a compromise they were having Granfather shipped to a special cutting edge computer technollogy labboaratory in Boston that woud make the final conclusion. How did I know all of this? We know someone who is a chambermaid at the motel..

Yes, It is a young womon named Clore-Dane, who hapens to be the sister of Cathyann's erstwhile boyfreind DuWayne. Despite their romanttic diferences, Cathyann has remained friends with Clore-Dane.

Cathyann called me the next day to tell me that Clore-Dane contacted her and told her that two mysterrious Germans were staying in one of the rooms. And that by placing a waterglass agianst the thin motel room wall, (a trick Cathyann learned from Tilde, and that Cathyann suggested that Clore-Dane try), It was possible to hear the whole thing.

"You better git yo ass down to the MOE-tell and talk to Clore-Dane," Cathyann's voice barked over my phonemail the day before I went in to ask mannagement for time off. "But dont ask her nothin' about where ol' DU-Wayne is. Cause that boy's still in hiding! BWAHAHAHA!

I go down to the Motel

Clore-Dane agreed to meet me arround 3PM which was a slow time, plus was soon after the Germans checked out. This being such a small town, anytime out of towners were in our motel, the whole county knew abbout it.

I was startolled by how much Clore-Dane looked like DuWayne. She led me to an empty guest room, and demonstrated the powor of the waterglass. Pressing one of her giant peeled-papaya-sized earlobes agianst the glass on the wall I was shocked how easy it is to hear people from one room to the next.

"They're watchin' Wheel of Fortune thar in Room Fourteen," she drawled, "An' sombody just buyed a vowel."

Like her brother, Clor-Dane was a womon of very few words, but she did say that the way Germans scream (especialy on the phone) it was real easy to hear it all. She had writton down for me the name of the hotel in Bosten they were staying at, the name of the lab that woud be examining Granfather, plus the time of depparture next week from Logan Airport back to Homburg. I was blown away by the amount of detail, all scrawled in tiny detailed block lettors on the back of a strip of paper that read "Sanitized For Your Conveineince."

She was very kind. Usualy people are always mean to me, not nice to me. I said to her, "Clor-Dane I dont know how to thank you." She did not change her expresion exept for a slight flushing of her lemony peachpink complexion, and then said, "I know how you kin thank me. Just don't tell no one whar I'm at, Walter," and only then it dawned on me that this person I was talking to was in fact DuWayne...who proceeded in as few words as posible to tell me that he got realy drunk one night and did some things he didnt remember, and that the cops were looking for him. And so he was hiding out prettending he was his sister.

"The REAL Clor-Dane's up in Oklahomer havin a baby. This time she thinks she knows who the paw is." Also he said he dosent mind dressin up like her, in fact him and her used to share clothes when they were kids. And that he actualy liked his new job, and his new life and even had a boyfreind, which, despite being in conflict with his sexaul preference wasnt really all that bad being that it was sort of a well-to-do gentleman who treated her nicely, and besides: "Alls we do is kiss. He wants to do more, but I tole him I was a Christian. Plus I dont wanna end up like the REAL Clor-Dane, pregnant and such," and just as DuWayne-Clore-Dane told me I had to leave cause she right that second saw out the window her boyfreind now comin to pick her up to take her out on a date, and that he especialy likes her in her chambermaid outfit cause he has this sort of "thing" for corpulent blondes in domestic service attire, Stu's Lexus pulled up to the front and parked.

End of this Updatte


Once agian I appollogize for being so late with my update. I hope to get another updat done soon. I may go back to shorter updates every month. Write to me if you think thats a good idea or if you have any othor sugestions. Email me at: walter_miller@hotmail.com
(Dont_forget_ the_underscore_).

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