::A mini-cooper drives up to the local Beer and Boomstix Shack, pulling up just before the porch where rock the wittlers and common folk. A man steps from the vehicle sporting a plaid suit with highwater pants, an unflattering haircut, and trifocles.
"Greeting, kind sirs. Might you tell a weary traveler how he might find his way back to the interstate. I say, I appear to be quite lost in this bucolic elysium. Yes, wot."
"Quite right, sir. Quite right. I hail for Oxfufnirshire just north or Curry Waddaloo. Here on a symposium tour, don't you know. What, what and all that."
My My ain't that a site; you hungry er thursty feller; being lost aint no fun; why dontcha step down fer a spell n have some o dis here nice BBQ and a brew; be dark soon n that aint no time ta be lost tryin to foller directions. Ifn yea cain't do that why; suppose I could send you right off, so, you got time to take a load off n put yer feet up; er you gotta wonna dem A point mints that got yea all frazzled?
I do believe you're inviting me in for an evening of ale and local color! Brilliant, what what. Let's see what you lot do for fun, let's shall!
What is this Critters and Crawlspaces you speak of? It isn't a blue movie, is it? Mother always said to aver my eyes and I haven't failed her up 'til now.
And who is this Barbie Q? A bit of a US looker, I'll bet. I appreciate the opportunity, gents, but I'm afraid yours truly is happily taken, engaged to fair Brunhilde back across the pond. She works for a Sudanese corporation analyzing finances in quinquepartite deals through the Suez canal. Fascinating, girl. Smashing.
I did indeed live in a hole, my good man! What a natural intellect for the intuitive you possess. For seven months I studied the unpigmented and blind fauna that reside in the Spazzington Cave Pools. I wrote my thesis on the ever weakening reproduction drive of the pale crawdiddle which really had them rousing there in all corners academia for awhile.
::pumps arm with all the manly muster of someone pulling the cord to get off a municipal bus::
*Tegan throws a blanket over the "barrel"*
heehee, he done saed diddle.
*stomps on the porch to wake uncle Cosmo* HEY UNCLE COSMO, we done got us a vis a tor and he's a warin a suit!!
*whisper to HH* I don't trust no man inna suit, he could be one of them rev a newers. You boys take him out back & introduce him to Critter & Crawlspaces & I'll keep workin on gettin Cos out frum under tha porch.
Hey mister, mind if I check out yore little car?
Ifin you say so, I cain't make hide nor hair of some ah them big words he's a sayin. Pass him a beer & might be he could edumacate me some more while watchin the moon come up. Oh heck, Heathy, it's a full one tonight ain't it?!
I say, what is this I'm drinking? I think I felt my spleen rupture. Good show! <hic>
What marvellously interesting dice. Do we roll them as in a bloody vigorous game of Yahtzee?
Well bless my Auntie Imogene! I really have grown hair on my chest! This throat burning elixir that caused me to soil myself has done what the best plastic surgeons could not! Bravo! I'm a cross between Barry Gibb and Emo Phillips. Won't Brunhilde be aroused? Rarrr! What woman can resist a ghostly skinned ectomorph with a hairy chest? I'm birdfeed, baby. <hic>
Where's Barbie Q?
Here ya go, try some of this here homemade Texas Chili, be careful though cuz I done lost 4 wooden spoons just fixin it. Yore innerds'll get used to it though.
Perhaps I didn't hear you correctly. Did you just ask me to hit a broad boy with my hand of rock? The meaning of that must be encoded in some sort of rural folklore. Oh do tell!
::reaches into satchel for a journal and a pen::
Chili, you say? Are there any Lima beans in this? Did you notice what I did there? Lima? Peru? Chile? I am a bit of a bratty scamp.
Well let's have a little bite and... OWWWW! OWWWW! OWWWWWW!!!!! MUMMY!!!!
::gulps this latest concoction with the trust of a small witless child::
Much better.
::false alarm hork::
Oh scholars and purveyors of sensorial madness, I cannot focus my eyes! Jolly good!
I feel the liquor kicking in. Soon enough I fear I won't be able to offer a proper reci...reci...recitation of the snalphabet. Did you know the queen can lift a man overhead with but liesurely effort? The woman possesses a madly developed strength of the upper body.
The answer to that is crafty, love.
Did you see what I did there? Did you?
Any fans of old H.P. out here? Any... any fans? No?
::He stares at his glass, suddenly realizing just how far from home he truly was::
It's from a book.
Ain't that tha book about that green thang with all them ten tackles?
::Eyes mist over::
Oh, you diamonds in the rough! You royals in a world of thieves! Yes, yes! We citizens hereupon this shining blue orb are indeed extended family, are we not! Black creepy crows of a feather flock together, eh wot?
Is this true? If you're having a problem with tetrodotoxins from puffer dust or relatives trying to nibble on you I just so happen to have a phylactery that might prove some help.
::Returns to rummaging within his satchel::
Got it! Wait... oh, bother! It's a bust of Kierkegaard Pez dispenser. It would be easier to find the amulet if I wasn't regressed to the sensorimotor stage. Jean Piaget would have to change her theory if she ran into me right now.
What was I doing?
::Returns to his imbibations::
I ain't had one ah them buried boys try to nibble me but them hippies is a differnt story.
This firewater has rendered me sub-urbane! <hic>
I am ready for this Critters & Fritters game. Do we wager?
::begins to nod off between wild bouts of levity in brevity and semi-conscious drooling::
"Tegan..."
::sleepspeaking only::
Clearly an anagram of agent. Perhaps a double agent?
::curls into a ball on the mystery stained hardwood floor and uses his bookfilled man purse for a pillow::
my aunt ain't my granny and neither of 'em's an agent. Maybe you better rest a while & then we'll geet yew some more chili and maybe a beer to wash it down with.
***fixes the stranger stranger a big plate of BBQ with pleanty of sauce and all the fixins***
er ya go fellar; sit right down here at dis pic nik table n have you some good grub; itl stick ta yer ribs and fill out that contraption yer wearing; ***snaps his fingers and a growler appears full of the strangers favorite libation along with a clean mug having all the heat drawn out (ie frosted shudder).
Now, bout the fun; little lates we gonna have us a right down home trackter pull, but raight now we got us some cute little fillies over yonder jumpin up and down playin dat nu game called volley of the bawl er something; looks rale excitin (lewd grin) and over yonder in the next pasture we got us some vagrant hippies smokin Mother Nature and doin all kinds of wierd hippie ichin, scratchin, rubbing stuff and sayin o lot of foolishnessnees like "Hey mon, why you gotta be that way" so we done runumoff but dey keep comin back kinda like the runz from spicey food; dat Barbie Q sauce, aint to hot? nah; shoot don't mind that steam commin offn yas; dat be natural; you gotta eat what da natives eats ta kill off any viral or wormy infestations in yer gut.
well now; this here is me scattergun; be a .10 gauge; yeah, I likes like that; truley a shor purty turkey gun, but I'z gottit loaded with salt rock n salt peter at da moment in case we gets us another rising of the dead or them hippies; this makes it easier ta hit em when dey scatter. Salt is a general anestestick and salt peter; then that keeps em from rising again and maybe makin more of em.
dont mind all the local color; weez just a gud a people crowd as yu kind find anywheres; sit back; want another plate? still thirsty; here let me refill yer growler; ifn you gotta breath fire or let out a hollar and whoop it up; you just let it all hang out now; yer amongst freinds of a color.
::shakes himself awake::
I say, I haven't had a headache like this since studying for my A-levels. You were saying something about volleyball and special ammunition to fend off aroused peacenicks from beyond the grave, were you? Am I to understand that you folks drink this delightfully corrosive beer and feast on this Geiger counter chili because it keeps one's viscera in a peturbed state which wards off zombifying micro-organisms?
::His hand dips into his trouser pockets.::
Found it!
::The man with the unfortunate haircut reveals a small whistle with a sickly violet glow within::
The phylactery of Kherrozahk! Picked this up in a yard sale in Goreme, not that those Turks had yards per se, more of a stony sand sale, but it turns out they did not know what they had or how truly priceless it was. This amulet has a storied past leading back to an early writing by the Greek author Xenophon, who in 401 BC first encountered it in a Cappadocian cave. He wrote of an experience whereby he was set upon by the slavering enemies of light and nature. Now he clearly was referring to the ancient zombies of Goreme which he also dubbed Turkey Jerkies later on in the text. This miraculous whistle was blown and the zombies all melted down into puddles of viscious... well the most literal translation is mustardy poo-snot.
I've never seen it in action. Perhaps we could let the this delightful lady apply a little bilabial frication to the end of my fancy little shriekpipe here when next the dead roam to protest the high price of tofu, or whatever it is that your dead do for amusement. I do hope you gents have a Wet-Vac handy. Who wants to try it?
Well it looks as if this mighty artifact has toured the marble, wot wot? Considering its gypsyesque wanderings, perhaps it belongs to no man. You good people are the first in my travels to suffer from such a necrotic infestation. Here. I want you to have it.
::places the whistle firmly in the clutch of the kind hearted bumpkin.::
I can't speak to its efficacy. You'll have to beguile me with an early report.