Introduction:
For those that are wondering, this story is not Part two of the Chimichanga of Time. The rest of that story will be told at a later time. I am sure some of you are absolutely heart broken and will not be able to sleep at night, so I will give you a clue as to what will happen in the Chimichanga Saga....something spectacular.
As for this story....the events of this one actually take place before Episode III, but I did not feel it necessary to tell this epic tale before the Hairless Wig of Forever Wisdom. So now let me set the scene.
A terrible and unknown foul beast is plaguing the innocent, joyful, boring, and uneventful town of Martinsville, Indiana. This unknown critter has killed numerous citizens in Jimmy Nash Park, the highlight place of this Patriotic redneck community. It leaves strange and unidentifiable markings on its victims.
Disgruntled like Post Office workers, the frightened town officials attempted to keep the townspeople calm, told the locals it was just a coincidental and unrelated series of deaths involving the misuse of jump ropes. Realizing the good people of the town would not believe this for long, the Mayor called in an animal expert named Azmorott, who also happened to be a mercenary for hire, to kill this creature. After weeks of unsuccessful attempts, Azmorott finally flipped his lid.
Desperate, the Mayor did the best thing he could, he bought a bright light and shined it into the sky, only the light formed a giant nine. The Mayor hoped the Great American Hero would come save the day and rid the little town of a thorn in it side. For he would be the only one that could save M’ville from its likely end....
*****
A random point on the map. I was convinced that was what Rodney did. Just took his finger, which is greater than that of any ordinary human being, and pointed to this dump in the middle of John Kerry Hating nowhere. Where is this no where, in the middle of Martinsville, Indiana. I thought Kentucky was the hick capital of the world, boy was I wrong. This town had a river following through it called the White River, but there was nothing white about it. This river made the Ganges River look like clean bathing water, it sends a nasty shutter down my spine just thinking about it.
"This is the stupidest place I have ever been in," said Pierre.
"I will give you that, but nationally at least they know where they stand," I replied, "Where as your country is nationalistically confused."
"Chill, Big L," said the magnificent Rodney, I went silent quick. "We here on a very serious situation." I was very curious on how Rodney decided to come here. For he received no cell phone calls, he didn’t have any visions, or get a letter in the snail mail.
"Rodney, how did you know this is where you are suppose to be?" I asked bewildered.
"Well, as we were sitting one night, I looked up into the sky and a long ways off of, I saw my signal. A giant nine shining in the sky. I knew in my heart this is where I was suppose to go." As we stood underneath the starry sky, I saw it in its magnificent beauty. The beautiful number nine, brilliantly lighting the Martinsville sky.
We went to an old fashion looking fire station which also happened to be the police department and city hall. Inside we were greeted by a rotund fellow.
"Hello, I am Mayor Kirkbus," said Kirkbus, "We have not a moment to waste, for the whole town could be lost if we don’t act quickly." Noticing that this man was quite the watermelon, I had to make a comment.
"You fatty are in no condition to get anywhere quickly," I joked. The man standing next to him pulled out a pistol and shot at the ground in front of me, barely missing my toes.
"This is Azmorott," said Kirkbus, ignoring my comments. Rodney stepped forward to shake Azmorott’s hand. I had to laugh, Azmorott looked like a white-arab-wannabe. He had the turban and all.
"To cut to the chase," said Rodney, always getting to the heart of the situation, wasting no time trying to save lives, "What is this that haunts this peaceful town?"
Azmorott looked solemnly at the ground and then looked around him. "Let us go inside," he said, nudging Rodney into the city hall/police station, "such words of evil I will not utter out here." They went inside and once in there, Azmorott shaking uncontrollably spoke, "It is El Squirrel. The most terrifying and deadly creature on this planet."
At just the sound of the name El Squirrel, Mayor Kirkbus wet his large pants and two officers cried out in shear terror. Pierre tried to run, but he tripped and fell over my feet which I had stuck out for that very purpose. Rodney stood in wonder.
Looking into his heroic eyes, I could almost see into his very mind. The wheels in his head were already turning, the course of action already figured out.
"Mayor, you need to close the park, now," said Rodney. The mayor looked around in disbelief, as if he could not believe Rodney was ordering him.
"Excuse me, did you say close the park?" asked the mayor. Rodney shook his head yes. "That is the only source of entertainment in this town, the youth would be crushed. I can’t do that. If I did we would have a panic on our hands."
"Listen here Chubby cheeks," I said, "If you don’t close that park down, you are going to have a picnic on your hands. And I ain’t talk about the kind with little Timmy and Jane who are on their first date. I am talking about this killing machine." Surprisingly, Azmorott was in agreement because as the mayor’s aid attempted to shoot me again, he punched him right in the forehead.
"Call me names all you want," said the mayor, "but I am not closing that park down. It will be open." I took the mayor up on his offer, calling him every name in the book including John Kerry lover and French peon. It still had no effect on him. Rodney finally silenced me and we headed out to the park.
It was actually quite a place, with a huge hill on the left as you entered and a large pool by a baseball diamond at the hill’s base. On the right were some shelter houses and a small pond. There was a small black car parked in front of it.
Pierre saw the playground and went to fill his desires playing on the monkey bars. Rodney and Azmorott planned to scout the area. After a few minutes, Rodney asked me to go over to that parked car and alert them to the situation. I agreed to do it, with pleasure.
Walking over to the car, I gently knocked on the window. No one answered me, but I could hear voices. So I knocked again. Still they did not answer. Finally, I jerked open the door and to my surprise found two people in the front seat.
"Who are you?"I asked.
"I am Timmy, and this is my girlfriend Jane," said the man, trembling with fear. I chuckled to myself remembering what I said to mayor fatso. I started to tell them to get out of there because a psycho freak squirrel was on the loose, but a loud shriek echoed through the park.
I looked across and saw Pierre running full speed towards me. He was screaming and shouting things in french, I did not understand them (nor did I want too). As he neared me I began to hear a strange noise. It sounded like a weed whacker, but it could not be.
Then yoda-like, I saw a squirrel pop out of know where wearing a sombrero ,swinging a miniature weed eater, and screaming "arariba, arariba!"
"Don’t hurt me!" cried Pierre.
"Die meat bag!" said the squirrel. Yes, the squirrel called Pierre a meat bag! It was great!
It swung its weapon and sliced a tiny slit in Pierre’s wrist. He fell to the ground, bellowing out in pain. The squirrel slowly inched toward him ready to turn him into chopped carrots. Just in the nick of time, a football came whizzing in and knocked the weed eater from the squirrel’s paws.
"Uhoh..." cried the squirrel and he darted off into the woods.
I looked at Pierre lying on the ground balling like a two year old who fell and scrapped his knee, then I looked at Timmy and Jane struggling to catch their breath, and then I saw Rodney. He was striding forward, like he had just won the MVP award. The street light shined on him, illuminating him from the dark of night.
Azmorott walked forward and picked up Pierre. The Frenchman only managed a sniffle. Rodney then talked to Timmy and Jane, telling them the danger of the situation and urging them to leave. He then starred off into the woods, almost daring the little fur ball to step out.
After a few anxious moments, Azmorott went and got a flamethrower and headed off toward the woods, Rodney following him. They looked up into the tree tops hoping to catch a glimpse of their enemy.
"Watch out!" cried Rodney, knocking Azmorott out of the way. Seconds later a walnut hit the ground and exploded. I was dumbfounded at how Rodney saw such an obscure object in the dead of night.
We continued walking farther and farther into the woods. An eerie fog began to creep through the surrounding woods. The trees themselves almost seemed to come alive. Yet fearlessly, Rodney pressed onward. Braving the random exploding walnut or flaming acorn. They continued until Rodney heard a branch snap over head.
Stopping, Azmorott pointed his flame thrower into the sky. "Time to fry critter!" he said, then he muttered something in arabic, then a bright blaze of flames shot out into the tree above. Something scurrying through the tree’s top could be heard.
"ARARIBA!" filled the night sky as the squirrel lunched itself from its now burning lair and landed directly on Azmorott’s face. Since its weapon had been destroyed by the force of Rodney’s arm, the squirrel attacked with it teeth. The squirrel mauled away as Azmorott cried out. He pounded at it, but his fists ended up only hitting himself.
Rodney then stepped forward, a fierce glare on his face. Gallantly reaching out, he grabbed the critter by the tail and yanked it toward him, somehow not bringing further harm to Azmorott. As the squirrel tried to position itself to gnaw on Rodney’s arm, our hero moved even quicker and slammed his opposing fist into the squirrel’s sombrero covered head, denting in the top of it’s hat.
With its tail still in hand, Rodney pulled as hard as he could and ripped the bushy tail off. Not just the fur, but all of it! Blood poured out the squirrel’s hind quarters. Whimpering, it struggled to escape, attempting to crawl away. This was not to be, for Rodney brought his foot down on the squirrel crushing its back section like a dinosaur stepping on a pretzel.
I waited for Rodney to finish it off, but he stopped. Rodney turned and started heading out of the woods. Puzzled we all stood there.
"Rodney, aren’t you gonna finish him off?" I asked.
"No, Big L," said Rodney, turning to face me, "I will not give such evil the pleasure of a quick death. Rather, I will leave it there, helpless. The cruelty it bestowed upon others shall be returned unto it." We then followed him off into the night, leaving the squirrel to die a slow and painful death.
Once more Rodney amazed me, saving a little hick town from it’s certain destruction. He defeated a beast with such speed that no other human could match. I sensed this was only the beginning of the great things to come.
