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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (8437)	3/3/1998 4:45:00 PM
From: Jacques Chitte	Respond to of 71178

Bub came out of the house and holstered his Casull. He crept stealthily to the barn, where Rambi had been left in charge of the stuporous Juan. He rounded the corner and saw - Juan and Rambi, sitting on some handy crates. She was smoking a British cigarette, and Juan was cupping the bowl of a fragrant Meerschaum in the web of his hand. He used it to punctuate the air while discoursing in a strangely musical and stylistically immaculate English. Bub scratched his head. He didn't understand what was giong on here, but it was none of his lookout. In any case, Rambi seemed to be in her customary position of complete control. Bub checked his pack and augmented it with the detritus of the last few hours. The suppressed HK might come in handy, even if it wasn't his kinda fightin arn. The nicotine gum - Bub picked it up, then silently put it down at the shed's door. he figured Rambi might find a use for it later. Those redcoat stinksticks packed a punch. Bub had one final mission here. He walked over to the chicken cage. Nobody opposed him - they were either unconscious, absent or otherwise occupied. He took hold of the cage's inner gate and slowly pulled on it, evincing a faint cry of oiled steel. The cage's inhabitant didn't fail to notice. A mighty chicken charged from the bushes, then halted after he realized he'd been fooled. Bub drew his Casull, thumbed back the hammer and touched off a round at the Gargantuan fowl's wishbone area. The thunderclap was a real attention getter. A white puff of feathers exploded from the monstrous fowl's chest. The bird screeched one great cry of anguish and rage, wobbled, and fell. Bub turned into the jungle and found his trail. West, toward the distant ridgeline. He figured that he could catch up with his misguided contact in six, maybe seven days. Drygulch was the only real victim of this misadventure. He'd been given a bum steer into some serious badlands. Bub would apprise him of the situation, leave him with enough water to safely turn around, and head back to the pretechnical pastoral homeland of DARia. For a moment, Bub felt a pang of guilt for leaving Eeemelda bound and gagged in her own bathroom. But with her demonstrated taste for sushi, he didn't want his fish tattoo anywhere near her. Anyway, her gardener was due in later that morning. In the shed, Juan apologetically dabbed spilled tea off a startled and annoyed Rambi's legs.

To: Rambi who wrote (8437)	3/3/1998 5:43:00 PM
From: Thomas C. White	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

My dearest Rambi! You make me feel quite a century younger. Were I but flesh and bone I should make no guarantee upon my comportment. But I am afraid that I shall really have to let our snarling chilblain friend from his mental cage. The effort to keep him there is too wearying. And in any event he's far more suited to these commando sorts of things than I. Incidentally, Rambi, about that Coleridge thing. I understand the expression now is, "I never inhaled." Excuse me, but I do think you should perhaps stand back a pace or two. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. Farewell then. For now. I see what was, and is, and will abide!! Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide!! Wrrrrrr......glub......zzzzzzzzz......sneaky....scum rot cheaty poets....the mighty Minstrel breathes no longer, `mid the mouldering ruins low he lies rat turd he winks my hoods!! Snookery English mans!! lets goes stinkface poetry stuff!! I sicks hearings!! I takes you nextly to Chicken Gods makes big chicken dinners!! O Rambi! O blessed Vision! happy Child! That art so exquisitely wild! Yeeeeeahhhh!!! Wheres am Juan F. Gonzales Quiros Guillermo Hourquescos Saldiver? What this place is?? Oh!! Ha Ha!! Sheds!! Now remembers!! Head conks maybe Eeeeemelda yadayada!! Rambiface!! How you ares? Hey smells smokey likes. You gots cigarette? No, huh? I beens away sorrys, no helps. Has sometimes migraine heads pains or somethings gets sorts outs. Now where was we Rambi? Wants hear anothers poems?? Gots another ones special worked. Pssst!! You still theres in headbones poem mans? I forgives you we gets another tries huh? I believe that you've shot your bolt on the poetry corner my good man. Sorry, I felt the need to save you from yourself. And yes, rest assured I'm still here. Not much choice in the matter I'll be bound. Oh. Okay, better the next time lucks I always says. And hey no evers the brains again takes over!! Or maybe I writes my owns poems very goods makes you listens all days. Hey Rambisweetie, ummm.....you looks madly offly pissed somethings I wonders, why you drums the fingers on that whats calls its tuffets maybe so likely thatly? Hey where everbody is...hey what with chicken!! Chicken hey chicken shots!! Who does?? Puts out APB chicken shooter!! Hey Carlos gets over hear thirst aids kits!! Whazzat, hows looks!! Gets away lets me see!! Okay, maybe chicken in shock, scare maybe by guns noises onlys, wound looks not too bad only flesh takes big firepowers maybe Tow missile kill ones these babies. Only seen once gun kills chicken lucky shots. Carlos calls vets in villages stat tells him expect three hundreds pounds chickens maybe halfs the hours.