As aforementioned we were cruising( did I say booze before, of course not, drinking and driving is illegal *wink*), anyways so here we are: two friends, my mate and I. One of our said friends was driving us on our cruise, he decides to stop by his parents' house on our way home. Now his parents' place is your Illinois A-typical farm family.So let me explain, during a booze
cruise on the rural roads of Yankee state (Illinois) my friends,
boyfriend and I encountered a strange relationship between a opossum
and a cat. With a cute farm house and several
pole barns on the lot surrounded by rich farm ground its likely you
will see some kind of critter running around.
Here I am in the
front passenger with my boyfriend poking his nosy face through the
middle console with other said friend just about as close. Said
driving friend was in his parents' house while the three of us
remaining in the truck suddenly see a fat, I mean an obese, french
fry-fed opossum come waddling (yes he was so fat he waddled) through
the yard in front of the headlights. Said friend immediately yells
“Look at that fatty, somebody grab a gun!” and the rest of
proceeded to comment on how fat the opossum was including my
statement about his waddling, then my boyfriend pipes up and says
“Nah, they actually keep him alive on purpose, they throw out a lot
of scraps and he keeps it cleaned up.” I jump in, “So he's just
making his nightly rounds then.” At this point we are all giving
quiet chuckles until we really starting haggling when here comes a
bi-colored tabby cat across the yard.
We are all
watching intently waiting to see how the animals react to each other,
perhaps the cat will hiss and spat or the opossum will play dead...
Neither, think
again, they both pause on their paths past each other, sniff noses
and go on about their business and even continue to stay around each
other in the area. At this point between drunken slur, we are all
cracked up at the unbelievable obvious friendship between a wild
opossum and a domesticated barn cat. With said drunken slur, we all
begin to narrate the lives of the friendship of a opossum and cat. It
started out with me assigning names: I began speaking in like mind of
Bill (the cat) to Frank (the opossum) and my boyfriend jumped in and
played as Frank and interjected as Bill:
“Hey Frank,
what's going on buddy?”
“Nothing too
much man, I lost my wallet.” Frank keeps waddling past Bill.
“Wait! Frank!
You left your wallet at my place!” Bill returns to Frank closely,
but Frank keeps walking because apparently he doesn't have good
hearing.
“Ah screw it!
I'm going to the bar.” (The bar is simply a barn with a broken wood
panel allowing the Bill the cat to go inside.)
“I really feel
bad about not giving him his wallet back.” Bill comes out of the
barn bar. “I need a smoke anyways, perhaps he will come back this
way” Bill proceeds to sit outside of the barn bar looking around
intently.
Growing tired of
waiting on Frank's return, Bill begins pacing and calling Frank.
“Frank! Frank! Get over here buddy, I've got your wallet!”
Frank doesn't
return because unlike Bill he has a wife and 6 babies at home.
Bill tries one
last time “Fuck Lukenback, drink with us!” Frank still doesn't
answer nor does he return.
Realizing Bill may
expose himself outside of the bar to his girlfriend, he returns
inside. “I hope Samantha didn't see me out there. Ah screw it, free
money in Frank's wallet, I'll drink it for him.”
And that folks was
the incredibly, dry humor inspired, drunken slur, human narrated
adventure of Frank and Bill.
Not much on
offering advice today, but per recommendation of my mate, I figured
I'd offer my readers some sort of ridiculous off-the-wall
entertainment.
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