Chapter One
The Ferret Chronicles
by Terence Beck DIRTY GARNET
I'm not usually one for the well-ridden classics of the nightlife scene. They say to me when I go to bars where the older ones hang: "Terry, why don't you go for the maturer members of the crowd? You're a quality lover, and you've started working out again."
Sighing modestly I'd rebuke them by saying I'd still years left of targeting college students. I said to Brian once: "Brian, are you bilingual?"
"Dude I try anything once." - This sort of brilliant attitude is one I want to preserve. That's why when I headed to California I stopped off in Louisiana. The whole Assange thing hadn't kicked off to a bad extent - and besides a day in the Deep South is great for eating out in great hospitality, groans in the steamy air as you nosh on some moist, Southern meaty folds.
Touching down in New Orleans proved uneventful. Exiting the airport equally so. Yet it was as I boarded a cab that a huge bombshell hit me: an old, zany coot had thrown a defused grenade at my head whilst crying "Boooom! Happy holidays you swishy haired varmint!"
Yet as I shifted myself into the cab I noticed two small animals, bickering madly. Thinking I'd just entered some sort of George Michael bedroom scenario I leant forward and politely informed the cabbie of the odd, rodentish situation.
"Oh you on for the ride now boy...you on for it the whoooole way." A cracked, horrendous cackle emerged from the cabbie's gullet as he turned on the central locking and remotely activated a grate. I was confined to this odd scenario, which grew vastly more pleasant when I realized the creatures were babbling on in English.
"If you were a fisherman, I'd be the ones catching the big fish and you'd be the...er...the one catching the little uns'!" The smaller, younger looking rodent squeaked with glee, delighted at his own wit and guile.
"Your conceit is equaled only by your troglodyte verbal skills. I am appalled, shocked, and worse of all hindered by your presence. That you claim to be an illegitimate child is but evidence of your willful upstart nature - this is, I must wholeheartedly say, your redeeming feature."
"Darn it Dad, we don't have to end this like you're the oil baron from that awful epic There Will Be Blood! I need you to teach me everything you know, so I can become as great as you and carry on your legend. It's not selfish...it's just pure altruism for the human who beholds your...I mean our, work." The tone of the creature, as squeak and snuffle ridden as it was became that of a groveling plea.
"Let it be known that your head could not absorb but a fraction of the knowledge gained. You must go out into the world; see wonderful sights, make love to wonderful women, randomly boil nettles in the wilds because you want to see what they taste like...but above all, leave me be. Or we'll see about that movie tribute!"
By now I'd decided to offer my services. Plucking the younger critter up by his nameless collar I tapped on the cabbie's rear panel: "Gots to drop off a passenger here man."
The little bastard squirmed and tried to bite. However my Aunt Beryl had taught me superbly how to handle all manner of rodenty creatures. The cab ground to a stop, the tinted winters opening to a blast of fresh, sarcasm cleaning air. Out went the talking critter, landing softly on an adjacent pile of shrubs.
Meanwhile the older, slightly grizzled rodent had curled up on the seat, saying: "Ah...just like an abbreviated version of that movie Mouse Trap. Yet...less crappy."
The night out on the town that followed proved legendary. Therein Samuel, as he was called, resided atop my shoulder, tickling my cheek with his handy old school tips. I fed him shots of Tennessee bourbon. Due to creeping out so many supple nubile gals I had to settle with the maturer crowd, but you know what?
It was exquisitely better.
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Background
"Now Sammy, you have to be brave, you are going to go on a journey....by yourself, and you have to be brave" mum said to me.
I had never been very far from the burrow, just a few visits to my Uncle Freddies, church, the usual. An exciting world awaited me, a real adventure!
"Now you remember, to use your manners, and when you meet him, you be a good little ferret, your dad is a busy one, oh goodness, do I know that" she said.
"Yes, mum, I remember. And not repeat what you've told me, that he is a cad, and playboy, and a carouser, and all he thinks about is the ladies; I remember."
"I want you to keep your nose pointed in the right direction, Sammy, don't get sidetracked snifffing out every little thing that pops into your head, stay on the track, and get to your father's burrow before Christmas"
And a fear came over me, as I looked out the door, meeting the Old Ferret, the legendary, Conceited One himself, calls himself: "The Sexiest Ferret Alive"...
The world beckoned, the far off distances of the great big horizon, and I started to choke back the tears, the fears, the gut feeling that I didn't want to leave home mingled with the adventuresome nature within us all.
"Now Sammy, don't you cry, big ferrets don't cry, my young one" mum said to me, as she herself shed her own tear and patted me on my bum out the door.
As told in the Ferret Chronicles by @SamDaFerret
( no ferret was actually tossed out the window in the making of this epic, in fact, little Sammy sits idly by my pool, smoking my cigars, hitting on my french maid, and driving my Barbie Corvette about the house, till the batteries run dead. i refuse to give the little bastard my GI Joe Hummer, except on weekends. my plan calls for getting my uncle freddies to produce the critter's birth certificate, and let me tell you that edition of the Ferret Chronicles will be just as boring and pointless..... Return to Twitter Return to top of Blog to See all of Sam's Stuff )
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