On Geysers and Fountains
Dear Mr. OR,
I have witnessed a most terrifying event. Even now as I sit here to write to you I can still see it in my minds eye. The evening was no different than any other. My wife was wondering around the house doing chores, the Beast in its customary spot on her hip. My chores finished I was sitting down to a nice relaxing cup of tea and a fine book. My wife wandered over to sit next to me when The Beast unleashed its attack. The Beast convulsed once, twice, three times and geysered forth a white, sticky foul smelling substance onto my wife’s torso. I jumped up depositing my hot tea into my lap and spent the next several seconds trying uselessly to pull steaming hot cloth away from legs while blowing at an area of my body that my head was never meant to get close enough to blow on. All the time I'm doing this my wife is running around the house yelling at the top of her lungs grabbing for anything she can wipe the goop off with. My pants now quite chilly and uncomfortable against my slightly boiled legs I ran for the nearest set of paper towels all the time wondering if the vile concoction might be poisonous or perhaps acidic. Who knows what such a vile creature can produce from deep down in its bowels.
Finding the paper towels I ran to my wife’s aid who had so far drenched one curtain and one bath towel with the foul substance. As I handed my wife the towel The Beast wound up and fired again. This time the liquid flew in a not so graceful arc getting part of my wife’s back and most of my shins and shoes. Now we're both going through paper towels as quick as we can. Wiping down ourselves and our precious belongings that are getting splattered. I am happy to say that the concoction was not acidic. At least not with sufficient strength to eat through wood, fabric or flesh with any kind of rapidity. After this second bout my wife got very smart and when the third one came she was ready: tipping the little monster to the side forcing it to spray the goo straight down onto the floor. Unfortunately the Beast had a second card to play.
Before either of us realized what the Beast had in store it unleashed attack number two. My wife suddenly grabbed the beast with her left hand and threw her right hand (the one that had previously been holding the Beast) out to the side as if she had been stung. There in the middle of her forearm and all down the beasts back was a large brown spot. My wife laid the Beast down in the middle of the carnage and began removing its clothes. Did I mention that my wife has taken to dressing the Beast like a little human? I don't understand why but it has bothered me less than one might suppose as I have seen several old ladies on our street dressing there small dogs much the same way. Indeed the female psyche is something that I will never fully comprehend.
The Beasts cloths now removed we were able to determine the source of the brown spot. This was no mystery liquid. This was the same foul soilage that my wife had threatened to rub on my chair back many weeks ago. It seems that fate has a sense of humor. Being a somewhat sharp witted man the idea came to my head instantly and I almost burst into a fit of laughter there on the spot but there is no telling what my wife would have done once she learned the nature of my mirth. Indeed I would not be surprised to find myself wearing a fair amount of the brown substance at the end of that exchange.
The most disturbing part; however, was that the Beast was bubbling this liquid sludge up from its protective wrappings like a fountain or hot spring. The splatter marks reached up to the Beasts arm pits and ran down in lines. A small pool was collecting all around its posterior. My wife charged for the bathroom. I turned on the water and in seconds The Beast, half of my wife, myself, most of the bathroom, and The Beasts protective covering were all doused in a spray of water. I switched the bathtub over from shower to bath, my wife took off the Beasts protective clothing all the while yelling things at me that I neither care to relate nor remember as I was not listening. Within seconds the Beast was plunged into the bath and the scrubbing began. My wife being the more soiled scrubbed the Beast while I held it in various poses and contorted positions.
The rest of the night was spent recleaning many of the things we had spent cleaning that afternoon. Then showers and finally in the very early hours of the morning the Beast having tried several more times to cover us in more white liquid was unable to bring anymore forward and so gave up and decided it was time to go to sleep. My wife and I agreed and off we went to sleep.
It was a harrowing experience. But we managed to survived. Even the Beast is quite chipper this morning despite its failed attack on my personage. The windows and door to the house are open and I'm certain the cool breeze will blow out much of the still sour smelling air. And now I am off to read the book I had intended to start last night. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,
The Lumpy
I have witnessed a most terrifying event. Even now as I sit here to write to you I can still see it in my minds eye. The evening was no different than any other. My wife was wondering around the house doing chores, the Beast in its customary spot on her hip. My chores finished I was sitting down to a nice relaxing cup of tea and a fine book. My wife wandered over to sit next to me when The Beast unleashed its attack. The Beast convulsed once, twice, three times and geysered forth a white, sticky foul smelling substance onto my wife’s torso. I jumped up depositing my hot tea into my lap and spent the next several seconds trying uselessly to pull steaming hot cloth away from legs while blowing at an area of my body that my head was never meant to get close enough to blow on. All the time I'm doing this my wife is running around the house yelling at the top of her lungs grabbing for anything she can wipe the goop off with. My pants now quite chilly and uncomfortable against my slightly boiled legs I ran for the nearest set of paper towels all the time wondering if the vile concoction might be poisonous or perhaps acidic. Who knows what such a vile creature can produce from deep down in its bowels.
Finding the paper towels I ran to my wife’s aid who had so far drenched one curtain and one bath towel with the foul substance. As I handed my wife the towel The Beast wound up and fired again. This time the liquid flew in a not so graceful arc getting part of my wife’s back and most of my shins and shoes. Now we're both going through paper towels as quick as we can. Wiping down ourselves and our precious belongings that are getting splattered. I am happy to say that the concoction was not acidic. At least not with sufficient strength to eat through wood, fabric or flesh with any kind of rapidity. After this second bout my wife got very smart and when the third one came she was ready: tipping the little monster to the side forcing it to spray the goo straight down onto the floor. Unfortunately the Beast had a second card to play.
Before either of us realized what the Beast had in store it unleashed attack number two. My wife suddenly grabbed the beast with her left hand and threw her right hand (the one that had previously been holding the Beast) out to the side as if she had been stung. There in the middle of her forearm and all down the beasts back was a large brown spot. My wife laid the Beast down in the middle of the carnage and began removing its clothes. Did I mention that my wife has taken to dressing the Beast like a little human? I don't understand why but it has bothered me less than one might suppose as I have seen several old ladies on our street dressing there small dogs much the same way. Indeed the female psyche is something that I will never fully comprehend.
The Beasts cloths now removed we were able to determine the source of the brown spot. This was no mystery liquid. This was the same foul soilage that my wife had threatened to rub on my chair back many weeks ago. It seems that fate has a sense of humor. Being a somewhat sharp witted man the idea came to my head instantly and I almost burst into a fit of laughter there on the spot but there is no telling what my wife would have done once she learned the nature of my mirth. Indeed I would not be surprised to find myself wearing a fair amount of the brown substance at the end of that exchange.
The most disturbing part; however, was that the Beast was bubbling this liquid sludge up from its protective wrappings like a fountain or hot spring. The splatter marks reached up to the Beasts arm pits and ran down in lines. A small pool was collecting all around its posterior. My wife charged for the bathroom. I turned on the water and in seconds The Beast, half of my wife, myself, most of the bathroom, and The Beasts protective covering were all doused in a spray of water. I switched the bathtub over from shower to bath, my wife took off the Beasts protective clothing all the while yelling things at me that I neither care to relate nor remember as I was not listening. Within seconds the Beast was plunged into the bath and the scrubbing began. My wife being the more soiled scrubbed the Beast while I held it in various poses and contorted positions.
The rest of the night was spent recleaning many of the things we had spent cleaning that afternoon. Then showers and finally in the very early hours of the morning the Beast having tried several more times to cover us in more white liquid was unable to bring anymore forward and so gave up and decided it was time to go to sleep. My wife and I agreed and off we went to sleep.
It was a harrowing experience. But we managed to survived. Even the Beast is quite chipper this morning despite its failed attack on my personage. The windows and door to the house are open and I'm certain the cool breeze will blow out much of the still sour smelling air. And now I am off to read the book I had intended to start last night. I remain always;
Respectfully yours,
The Lumpy
posted by Julia Reffner | Monday, August 29, 2005
4 Comments:
Liquid sludge, LOL. That, was most definitely a wonderfully descriptive way to say runny poop! ;)
Very funny (that is, funny strange not funny ha ha). Although my beast seems somewhat more subdued, I have a complete and empathetic view of your plight. It will get easier…or maybe I should just say different.
Oh, do I know those attacks well!! Glad you made it through!
I almost wet myself reading this. You have one hell of a sludge monster there. None of my two beast have never done anything like that. The youngest has done knee drops into the happy factory but never used chemical warfare on me.
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