RIBS TOWN A short Story
Charles Ambrosia Wanklen the third didn’t like guns even though he was the owner of the only gun store in town. When Jack Tewlitt came in Chas said. "Good you came Jack I’ve been talkin to pricks all day about what damn guns they should use to kill what damn animals". Jack , a veteran of Iwo Jima, sat down and offered Chas a Cigar; they both lit up."Wanna beer Jack" He went to the back of the shop and brought back two "I have this specially sent over from the Limeys; this is real beer Jack, not the shit people think beer is here". Jack poured his out into the glass that Chas offered him and then took a long swig. "been thinking Chas about Iwo Jima again. When we raised the flag in that famous photo they all go on about, there was hardly any fucking Japs left, know what I’m saying". "Yeah Jack, what you saying is that this country is founded on myth. Davy fucking Crockett, the bullshit about the brothers of the revolution, the Pearl Harbour crap. All lies. A country founded on lies and religous fanatics". He always said that , things like that . "Those two fucking fat freaks gone missing Jack". "Do I give a shit, loook at my face". "Well their fat fucking frump of a Mother came in here asking what they bought to go hunting so I told the Fat fucking cow and I added that I’m a seller of guns not a fucking social assistant like the niggers have". "Fucked her once when she was half decent; whined like a pig when I stuck it in; strangest fucking sound you ever heard". "Well that is history , don’t suppose you wanna do anything like that now". "Well thanks for the beer, by the way just came across the street and saw that Moodies been turned into a Frog brasserie as they say". "Well bout time we had some decent fucking food here ; fuck Hamburgers and fries". "Too true ".Jack Tewlitt didn’t really like Chas but he was the only person in Ribs Town that he thought had at least some idea of reality, the rest of the populace, well most of them, believed what they saw on T.V and in the newspapers; they believed the most corrupt media in the world outside of Italy and Latin america. Jack Tewlitt didn’t give a shit anyway because he could see a phoney a mile off. In Iwo Jima he had more or less tried not to get shot and had been only 14 years old when he had been put into the catering corps; Tewlitt hated this because he wanted adventure and thought it might be fun blowing fuck out of those snidey fucks called the "Nips". He soon changed his tune when he saw the shit going down and was glad he had been put in the caterers; his one lament was why the fuck he had falsified his age to get into the war. Notwithstanding that he was still a decent figure of a man, tall , straight and unlined. women still fancied him for he was one of the few in Ribs Town that could wear a Ralph Lauren double breasted chalk stripe and look the business; his dark latin skin and greying but still luxuriant hair gave him the look of a dubious Italian mafioso and as he sat down with Chas in the French joint .
Mary Parkins a "forty" something looked at him from the table where she sat with her husband schoolteacher Peter Parkins who was younger than Jack but looked knackered out. Jack had fucked Mary 20 years ago and it hadn’t been one of his better sexual experiences; she fucked like someone brought back to life from the morgue. Just moments before she had been in the crapper and now sitting at her table was ANOTHER CUSTOMER CALLED Tamiya t.Assab, a cross between an arab and a jap .She was playing with yourself material. Just before she had been straining at the leash, struggling with the load and what a load! Then finally a bomb ejecting from that tight little ass splashing the water now shitted open by shit. She had wiped herself then entered back into the restuarant. The bomb still floating on the flotsam . A smile. She sat down. The man thinking as she sat please God make her marry me. Bob Pope was one of the types that even if you’d never ever been to Canada well you’d expect to find his type there. He was plump and tall and thought of himself as most Canadians do as an outdoors man but the truth was he couldn’t waLK A FLIGHT OF STAIRS without loosing his breath.He was fair as well and had light skin, too light. Bob had money so at least he was able to procure his fair share of women cos Bob put it around that he liked to fete his females. His latest chick was this stunner, an Arabian Princess. I have to tell you that I couldn’t understand why that little sex pot went round with Bob; I mean even the thought of them having kids is disgusting. Big Flabby White Man+SILKILY SEXY Arabian Princess. They did get married and the children were to put it mildly bizzare. I won’t tell you what they looked like but you can imagine can’t you? They just added to that bizzare fucking nation which is like a mad zoo that breeds Camels with Elephants and Monkeys with Chickens.. Michael Mondois arrived at the table of Jack and Chas and said. "It is a great pleasure to welcome you to "PEPE LO MOKO". Can I ask you what you’d like to eat". "Yeah". Said Chas. "We’ll try the Entrecote". "Bad choice" said the French waiter Michael Mondois. And it was cos just before the kitchen had seen altercation. "In the freezer is Mr Simms from the Food and Drink agency . I’m going to cook him in the oven a bit later "Said the Dwarf . "He has never been cooked before". "What did the Asshole want"? Asked the blond waiter called Mondois. "He found something that according to him was not of animal origin". Replied the Dwarf. "And what was that"? Asked the waiter. "What was that? Why is that? How! when! why! I am a cook and you are a waiter so don’t ask me questions!!!!! "Arse-hool"!!! "Arse-hoool!!!!! YOU ASS-HOOOL. Mr Simms had been a very pleasant and well organised man until he had hit upon that French place in the Deep South but now he would turn out to be the greatest thing that Mr Bernard Moonstone , the president of the university of Quantrill had ever tasted. It was just following the maxim of the two French partners; that was drawn up years before in Lyon, that being."Give people the things they deserve to eat or even better give them the food that they merit. Michael Mondois was the kind of Frenchmen that everyone loved to hate; he was extremely arrogant but in such a subtle way that you needed to be intelligent to even begin to understand that he was that way. Tall and blond, Michael came from the city of Lyon that place of the best French culinary skills. "Bad Choice"? Asked Chas "Yes I’m am afraid that the Entrecote needs to hang longer than it has but if you return in a week then it will be superb" Replied Michael. "Well what do you suggest"? Asked Jack "I would go for the liver with fresh wild garlic. It is truly superb". "O.K we’ll go for that" Replied Jack. "If that is fine with you Chas"? "I’ve never eaten Liver replied Chas but yeah if this fellah says its good then O.K. He’s French". "I will bring you a very inexpensive wine that comes from the Medoc and this will go superbly with the liver" Replied Michael. In the kitchen all the walls were painted a bright red and the little dwarf chef sang"Who Made Who" by AC/DC as he cooked up the liver and fresh wild garlic. He was on the warpath once again. Outside in the road hugely fat John drove past. He had decided he hated niggers now and hated his xxxxxl ac/dc t.shirt. When John got home Mom was on the couch eating "Choke Me Chocs". These were marshmellows covered in a chocolate substitute; six to the pack . "Hi Wonderful! I saved you two "Choke Me Chocs" John didn’t answer but poured himself a cup of coffee; he didn’t put his usual three sugars in it; the incident at the Hamburger joint had put him in a new frame of mind. "You look worried Hon. What’s the matter Hon"? John drank the coffee without answering and thought it tasted like piss without the sugar. He then mused on the idea that if the food America ate was not masked then most of it tasted like piss. "I’m your Mother baby boy why don’t you answer your Mother"? He looked at her and wondered if he was like her. Am I a fucking moron like you he thought. Maybe I am , yeah maybe I’m just a fat fucking freak like you. "I’m O.K mom but I gotta go out". "Where ya goin Baby Boy"? "I’m goin down to the gun shop and I’m gonna buy a gun cos me and Tommy are goin hunting for the weekend". "Wanna Choke Me Choc hon"? He murmured see you later and went out. He lit a ciggie and got in the car. Charles Ambrosia Wanklen the 3rd took out of the reproduction cabinet an exact copy of the rifle used by the English in the 1700’s . "Listen fellah if those limey bastards had had more of these we wouldn’t be eating hamburgers right here and now; we’d be eating Fish and Chips. " John replied. "Would we Chas"? "We sure would; you know what really happened don’t you"? John and Tommy asked chas to fill them in and he proceeded to do so. "Well we talking about a civil war, we ain’t talking about a revolution like them stubblebums in the schools you go to would like you to have it. It was limeys v Limeys; forget all that Star Bangled Banner shit! Well the Limey army simply run out of men and their King couldn’t have given a shit about the war". "This bring down a deer Chas"? asked John "Only if you two feet away" Replied Chas "So what fucking good is it"? Asked Tommy "It’s no fucking good unless you are a real hunter and not one of those pricks who come in here buying the latest 200 rounds a minute automatic ". "But those pricks can hit what they like can’t they"? Asked John "Yeah they sure can but look how those pricks are doing in Iraq, not very fucking good if I may say the truth. Shooting is about being intelligent, being a sneaky little bastard. With no offence, a deer sees you two coming through the fucking woods with automatic weapons and then you two sweating profusely, cos you way over the fat limit and no offence, what’s that deer gonna do? Well he’s gonna say hey two suckers coming through the woods and you lose him. But if you two boys been starving for coupla days then you gonna get sneaky and you gonna use this weapon as it was meant to be used". "How is that" asked John. "well when you are near starving you gonna make sure you pin that deer; you get upwind of it and then you get near , and that takes you forever, then you ping the deer!! And then you eat good deer steaks that night on the camp-fire and you ain’t eating that shit called cow that says "EAT ME I GIVE STOMACH CANCER". "Does it"? Asked John. "It’s a plague of Bubonic proportions; the doctors won’t tell you but you should never eat cow in it’s American version". "So what the fuck can we eat"? asked Tommy.The weekend had become four days and for two of those days they had been lost in the middle of a forest. "We’re gonna die of starvation " said Tommy. It was the umteenth time he had said that and John swung round his musket and said. "If you open that fucking rat-trap of yours one more time I’m gonna fucking shoot you". Tommy knew that he meant it and stayed silent. "We won’t die Tommy because we’re bound to shoot something in the end. Why didn’t you bring your fucking mobile you fat freak"? "Yeah well why didn’t you recharge yours"? replied Tommy. They walked on and then it started to drizzle with no signs of stopping. "Now we’re gonna kick the bucket for sure ; can’t shoot fuck with wet powder Dude"!! John levelled the musket on Tommy and said. "O.K scum-bag you asked for it. "Don’t kill me dude, please don’t kill me, I’m begging you dude" Cried Tommy "O.K dude but if you open that motherfucking rat-trap just one more time about how motherfucking hungry you are then you dead fucking meat" said John The rain never stopped and as night fell they stopped walking and erected the tent. Tommy fell asleep straight away after he had said the words. "Sorry John, I know that I’ve been bad but on the morn I think we’ll see something positive". John lay in his sleeping bag smoking a cigar, letting the smoke drift out of the tent by pulling the flap open; the truth was he felt good; one time he hadn’t felt like a fucking fat freak in a AC/DC XXXXL T.shirt was now; his titties felt less like teats and he realised that for the first time in his life he was getting fit. The morning came but the drizzle hadn’t stopped. They walked on and on but never saw anything to eat; they thought about certain plants and fruits but Tommy said that certain things in the forest would kill you stone dead. After hours of walking Tommy finally flaked out on the ground and said. "Kill me dude, I’m done for, kill me. This is as far as I go". John looked at him and said. "Well stay there and die then". He walked on but after some time he heard something coming through the undergrowth. It was Tommy. "Dude there was something looking at me , something from behind a tree"."Shoot him"? "Give me the fucking gun, Iìll shoot the fucker". But as John aimed the Labrador barked and then ran a few paces , stopped and barked again. "He wants us to follow him ". Said Tommy. He’d seen the films and dogs always brought people to safety. "O.K, lets do that dude". Said John. They walked for an entire day, never stopping even though Tommy and john felt that the next tree was their limit but still they went on. "Don’t worry dude that dog will lead us to safety, big black labs like him always do". Said Tommy. "But there is something motherfucking strange about that dog, look at his coat, you ever seen a dog in such good condition, that coat is absolutely shining dude". "Yeah that is fucking strange, should be a bit run down like us but he looks in great fettle dude". "Yeah that is fucking funny dude". They walked on and on and the drizzle never let up; the dog was always up ahead barking for them to follow and they did. Finally just before night fell they came to a clearing where an army tent was pitched. "Maybe this is the owner and he for sure as shit will have hot drinks and food" Said John. The dog stopped outside the tent. Tommy pulled open the flap and inside laying on a sleeping bag was someone even fatter than Tommy. "You the rescue party dudeJosiah Thomas was just another fat freak caught up with the manliness of hunting and he too had got lost; he too had been "saved" by the black Labrador. All three of them lay in the Army tent as night fell; not a word was said; it seemed that they knew that now there was no way out. Midnight fell and the black dog sat looking at the tent; he drooled long lines of saliva and looked intensely at the tent. Out of the trees came a figure dressed in white, a dwarf dressed in white. He wore the moustaches in the french manner, waxed at the ends. On his head he wore a chef’s hat nearly as long as his body. He put his hand on the dog’s head and stroked it. "Mon Petit you are a wonderful friend". The dog looked up at him with undying love in its eyes. The french Chef drew open his chef’s coat and extracted from his belt two nasty looking knives that arrived in fine points at the end. "I will make you the finest Entrecote known to man , I think my friend that we are going to have a feast". The dog offered him his paw
Charles Ambrosia Wanklen the third didn’t like guns even though he was the owner of the only gun store in town. When Jack Tewlitt came in Chas said. "Good you came Jack I’ve been talkin to pricks all day about what damn guns they should use to kill what damn animals". Jack , a veteran of Iwo Jima, sat down and offered Chas a Cigar; they both lit up."Wanna beer Jack" He went to the back of the shop and brought back two "I have this specially sent over from the Limeys; this is real beer Jack, not the shit people think beer is here". Jack poured his out into the glass that Chas offered him and then took a long swig. "been thinking Chas about Iwo Jima again. When we raised the flag in that famous photo they all go on about, there was hardly any fucking Japs left, know what I’m saying". "Yeah Jack, what you saying is that this country is founded on myth. Davy fucking Crockett, the bullshit about the brothers of the revolution, the Pearl Harbour crap. All lies. A country founded on lies and religous fanatics". He always said that , things like that . "Those two fucking fat freaks gone missing Jack". "Do I give a shit, loook at my face". "Well their fat fucking frump of a Mother came in here asking what they bought to go hunting so I told the Fat fucking cow and I added that I’m a seller of guns not a fucking social assistant like the niggers have". "Fucked her once when she was half decent; whined like a pig when I stuck it in; strangest fucking sound you ever heard". "Well that is history , don’t suppose you wanna do anything like that now". "Well thanks for the beer, by the way just came across the street and saw that Moodies been turned into a Frog brasserie as they say". "Well bout time we had some decent fucking food here ; fuck Hamburgers and fries". "Too true ".Jack Tewlitt didn’t really like Chas but he was the only person in Ribs Town that he thought had at least some idea of reality, the rest of the populace, well most of them, believed what they saw on T.V and in the newspapers; they believed the most corrupt media in the world outside of Italy and Latin america. Jack Tewlitt didn’t give a shit anyway because he could see a phoney a mile off. In Iwo Jima he had more or less tried not to get shot and had been only 14 years old when he had been put into the catering corps; Tewlitt hated this because he wanted adventure and thought it might be fun blowing fuck out of those snidey fucks called the "Nips". He soon changed his tune when he saw the shit going down and was glad he had been put in the caterers; his one lament was why the fuck he had falsified his age to get into the war. Notwithstanding that he was still a decent figure of a man, tall , straight and unlined. women still fancied him for he was one of the few in Ribs Town that could wear a Ralph Lauren double breasted chalk stripe and look the business; his dark latin skin and greying but still luxuriant hair gave him the look of a dubious Italian mafioso and as he sat down with Chas in the French joint .
Mary Parkins a "forty" something looked at him from the table where she sat with her husband schoolteacher Peter Parkins who was younger than Jack but looked knackered out. Jack had fucked Mary 20 years ago and it hadn’t been one of his better sexual experiences; she fucked like someone brought back to life from the morgue. Just moments before she had been in the crapper and now sitting at her table was ANOTHER CUSTOMER CALLED Tamiya t.Assab, a cross between an arab and a jap .She was playing with yourself material. Just before she had been straining at the leash, struggling with the load and what a load! Then finally a bomb ejecting from that tight little ass splashing the water now shitted open by shit. She had wiped herself then entered back into the restuarant. The bomb still floating on the flotsam . A smile. She sat down. The man thinking as she sat please God make her marry me. Bob Pope was one of the types that even if you’d never ever been to Canada well you’d expect to find his type there. He was plump and tall and thought of himself as most Canadians do as an outdoors man but the truth was he couldn’t waLK A FLIGHT OF STAIRS without loosing his breath.He was fair as well and had light skin, too light. Bob had money so at least he was able to procure his fair share of women cos Bob put it around that he liked to fete his females. His latest chick was this stunner, an Arabian Princess. I have to tell you that I couldn’t understand why that little sex pot went round with Bob; I mean even the thought of them having kids is disgusting. Big Flabby White Man+SILKILY SEXY Arabian Princess. They did get married and the children were to put it mildly bizzare. I won’t tell you what they looked like but you can imagine can’t you? They just added to that bizzare fucking nation which is like a mad zoo that breeds Camels with Elephants and Monkeys with Chickens.. Michael Mondois arrived at the table of Jack and Chas and said. "It is a great pleasure to welcome you to "PEPE LO MOKO". Can I ask you what you’d like to eat". "Yeah". Said Chas. "We’ll try the Entrecote". "Bad choice" said the French waiter Michael Mondois. And it was cos just before the kitchen had seen altercation. "In the freezer is Mr Simms from the Food and Drink agency . I’m going to cook him in the oven a bit later "Said the Dwarf . "He has never been cooked before". "What did the Asshole want"? Asked the blond waiter called Mondois. "He found something that according to him was not of animal origin". Replied the Dwarf. "And what was that"? Asked the waiter. "What was that? Why is that? How! when! why! I am a cook and you are a waiter so don’t ask me questions!!!!! "Arse-hool"!!! "Arse-hoool!!!!! YOU ASS-HOOOL. Mr Simms had been a very pleasant and well organised man until he had hit upon that French place in the Deep South but now he would turn out to be the greatest thing that Mr Bernard Moonstone , the president of the university of Quantrill had ever tasted. It was just following the maxim of the two French partners; that was drawn up years before in Lyon, that being."Give people the things they deserve to eat or even better give them the food that they merit. Michael Mondois was the kind of Frenchmen that everyone loved to hate; he was extremely arrogant but in such a subtle way that you needed to be intelligent to even begin to understand that he was that way. Tall and blond, Michael came from the city of Lyon that place of the best French culinary skills. "Bad Choice"? Asked Chas "Yes I’m am afraid that the Entrecote needs to hang longer than it has but if you return in a week then it will be superb" Replied Michael. "Well what do you suggest"? Asked Jack "I would go for the liver with fresh wild garlic. It is truly superb". "O.K we’ll go for that" Replied Jack. "If that is fine with you Chas"? "I’ve never eaten Liver replied Chas but yeah if this fellah says its good then O.K. He’s French". "I will bring you a very inexpensive wine that comes from the Medoc and this will go superbly with the liver" Replied Michael. In the kitchen all the walls were painted a bright red and the little dwarf chef sang"Who Made Who" by AC/DC as he cooked up the liver and fresh wild garlic. He was on the warpath once again. Outside in the road hugely fat John drove past. He had decided he hated niggers now and hated his xxxxxl ac/dc t.shirt. When John got home Mom was on the couch eating "Choke Me Chocs". These were marshmellows covered in a chocolate substitute; six to the pack . "Hi Wonderful! I saved you two "Choke Me Chocs" John didn’t answer but poured himself a cup of coffee; he didn’t put his usual three sugars in it; the incident at the Hamburger joint had put him in a new frame of mind. "You look worried Hon. What’s the matter Hon"? John drank the coffee without answering and thought it tasted like piss without the sugar. He then mused on the idea that if the food America ate was not masked then most of it tasted like piss. "I’m your Mother baby boy why don’t you answer your Mother"? He looked at her and wondered if he was like her. Am I a fucking moron like you he thought. Maybe I am , yeah maybe I’m just a fat fucking freak like you. "I’m O.K mom but I gotta go out". "Where ya goin Baby Boy"? "I’m goin down to the gun shop and I’m gonna buy a gun cos me and Tommy are goin hunting for the weekend". "Wanna Choke Me Choc hon"? He murmured see you later and went out. He lit a ciggie and got in the car. Charles Ambrosia Wanklen the 3rd took out of the reproduction cabinet an exact copy of the rifle used by the English in the 1700’s . "Listen fellah if those limey bastards had had more of these we wouldn’t be eating hamburgers right here and now; we’d be eating Fish and Chips. " John replied. "Would we Chas"? "We sure would; you know what really happened don’t you"? John and Tommy asked chas to fill them in and he proceeded to do so. "Well we talking about a civil war, we ain’t talking about a revolution like them stubblebums in the schools you go to would like you to have it. It was limeys v Limeys; forget all that Star Bangled Banner shit! Well the Limey army simply run out of men and their King couldn’t have given a shit about the war". "This bring down a deer Chas"? asked John "Only if you two feet away" Replied Chas "So what fucking good is it"? Asked Tommy "It’s no fucking good unless you are a real hunter and not one of those pricks who come in here buying the latest 200 rounds a minute automatic ". "But those pricks can hit what they like can’t they"? Asked John "Yeah they sure can but look how those pricks are doing in Iraq, not very fucking good if I may say the truth. Shooting is about being intelligent, being a sneaky little bastard. With no offence, a deer sees you two coming through the fucking woods with automatic weapons and then you two sweating profusely, cos you way over the fat limit and no offence, what’s that deer gonna do? Well he’s gonna say hey two suckers coming through the woods and you lose him. But if you two boys been starving for coupla days then you gonna get sneaky and you gonna use this weapon as it was meant to be used". "How is that" asked John. "well when you are near starving you gonna make sure you pin that deer; you get upwind of it and then you get near , and that takes you forever, then you ping the deer!! And then you eat good deer steaks that night on the camp-fire and you ain’t eating that shit called cow that says "EAT ME I GIVE STOMACH CANCER". "Does it"? Asked John. "It’s a plague of Bubonic proportions; the doctors won’t tell you but you should never eat cow in it’s American version". "So what the fuck can we eat"? asked Tommy.The weekend had become four days and for two of those days they had been lost in the middle of a forest. "We’re gonna die of starvation " said Tommy. It was the umteenth time he had said that and John swung round his musket and said. "If you open that fucking rat-trap of yours one more time I’m gonna fucking shoot you". Tommy knew that he meant it and stayed silent. "We won’t die Tommy because we’re bound to shoot something in the end. Why didn’t you bring your fucking mobile you fat freak"? "Yeah well why didn’t you recharge yours"? replied Tommy. They walked on and then it started to drizzle with no signs of stopping. "Now we’re gonna kick the bucket for sure ; can’t shoot fuck with wet powder Dude"!! John levelled the musket on Tommy and said. "O.K scum-bag you asked for it. "Don’t kill me dude, please don’t kill me, I’m begging you dude" Cried Tommy "O.K dude but if you open that motherfucking rat-trap just one more time about how motherfucking hungry you are then you dead fucking meat" said John The rain never stopped and as night fell they stopped walking and erected the tent. Tommy fell asleep straight away after he had said the words. "Sorry John, I know that I’ve been bad but on the morn I think we’ll see something positive". John lay in his sleeping bag smoking a cigar, letting the smoke drift out of the tent by pulling the flap open; the truth was he felt good; one time he hadn’t felt like a fucking fat freak in a AC/DC XXXXL T.shirt was now; his titties felt less like teats and he realised that for the first time in his life he was getting fit. The morning came but the drizzle hadn’t stopped. They walked on and on but never saw anything to eat; they thought about certain plants and fruits but Tommy said that certain things in the forest would kill you stone dead. After hours of walking Tommy finally flaked out on the ground and said. "Kill me dude, I’m done for, kill me. This is as far as I go". John looked at him and said. "Well stay there and die then". He walked on but after some time he heard something coming through the undergrowth. It was Tommy. "Dude there was something looking at me , something from behind a tree"."Shoot him"? "Give me the fucking gun, Iìll shoot the fucker". But as John aimed the Labrador barked and then ran a few paces , stopped and barked again. "He wants us to follow him ". Said Tommy. He’d seen the films and dogs always brought people to safety. "O.K, lets do that dude". Said John. They walked for an entire day, never stopping even though Tommy and john felt that the next tree was their limit but still they went on. "Don’t worry dude that dog will lead us to safety, big black labs like him always do". Said Tommy. "But there is something motherfucking strange about that dog, look at his coat, you ever seen a dog in such good condition, that coat is absolutely shining dude". "Yeah that is fucking strange, should be a bit run down like us but he looks in great fettle dude". "Yeah that is fucking funny dude". They walked on and on and the drizzle never let up; the dog was always up ahead barking for them to follow and they did. Finally just before night fell they came to a clearing where an army tent was pitched. "Maybe this is the owner and he for sure as shit will have hot drinks and food" Said John. The dog stopped outside the tent. Tommy pulled open the flap and inside laying on a sleeping bag was someone even fatter than Tommy. "You the rescue party dudeJosiah Thomas was just another fat freak caught up with the manliness of hunting and he too had got lost; he too had been "saved" by the black Labrador. All three of them lay in the Army tent as night fell; not a word was said; it seemed that they knew that now there was no way out. Midnight fell and the black dog sat looking at the tent; he drooled long lines of saliva and looked intensely at the tent. Out of the trees came a figure dressed in white, a dwarf dressed in white. He wore the moustaches in the french manner, waxed at the ends. On his head he wore a chef’s hat nearly as long as his body. He put his hand on the dog’s head and stroked it. "Mon Petit you are a wonderful friend". The dog looked up at him with undying love in its eyes. The french Chef drew open his chef’s coat and extracted from his belt two nasty looking knives that arrived in fine points at the end. "I will make you the finest Entrecote known to man , I think my friend that we are going to have a feast". The dog offered him his paw
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