A Squawking Of Odd Fellows

     Ranthy Cutnose was tickled pink. While he had been anticipating a package from Mr. Chirp Chirp's Dut Emporium for almost a week now, it was with great pleasure and surprise that Ranthy had read the hand written note attached to the packing slip. The note read as such - "Dear Mister Ranthy Cutnose, of Alabaster, KY. We are beyond delighted to inform you that you have been selected by me, Rick Glurb, president and founder of Mr. Chirp Chirp's Dut Emporium, to receive an all expense's paid trip to our mother factory in Toledo, OH, where you will receive a private tour of the facilities by me personally, Senator Rick Glurb. Contrary to prior allegations pertaining to my supposed falsification of senatorship, the federal government has granted me congressional immunity and a key to the great city of Toledo. So, in great celebratory fashion, I have chosen you, Mr. Cutnose, our most valued costumer, for this grand boon. In the past year alone your purchase of over 750 pounds of dut from our company has been most remarkable. My black assistant Fife Wiggles will arrange for your transportation in the coming days. Cheers to you, lad, and keep buying our dut!".
    It took all the bourbon and sleeping pills imaginable for Ranthy Cutnose to get to sleep over the next four days, the excitement of the impending trip to the dut factory keeping his mind racing like a gazelle all jacked up on candy bars and diet pills (why on earth anyone would conceive of the idea to feed a gazelle, a notably quick mammal to begin with, candy bars and diet pills is beyond me. First off, why would you eat nothing but candy bars if you were taking diet pills to lose weight? Strikes me as counterproductive.) with no intention of stopping. Finally, on wednesday the 15th, Ranthy's prized hamburger phone rang. Scraping the mustard off of the ear piece (when Ranthy drinks his sense of texture and smell become, well, unimpressive), Ranthy picked up the phone, almost too excited to speak.
     "H-h-hello?"
     "Yes, Mr. Cutnose. This is Fife Wiggles, Mr. Glurb's black assistant. How do the day find you, sir?"
     "Oh, most well, Mr. Wiggles. I have been bubbling with anticipation ever since I received the letter from the very esteemed Mr. Glurb. I swear my co-workers at the Cheesecake Factory have had up to their nostrils with me prattling on and on about my upcoming tour of the glorious dut factory."
     "You are very kind, sir. As stated in the letter you received, we are certainly most appreciative of your business and your support. Imitation dut factories have been putting quite the hurt on our business but we maintain a standard that they simply don't meet and all of us here at Mr. Chirp Chirp's are thrilled you share our integrity."
     "Oh, no, thank you. Your excellent product has gotten me through countless lonely nights and cold winters."
     "Fantastic to hear, sir. Thank you, sir. Mr. Glurb's private 727, the Sea Cat, will be awaiting you at McFinney's airfield, about 47 minutes from your residence, tomorrow at noon. I've arranged for a cab to pick you up at 11:00 am, just to be safe. I trust the Cheesecake Factory will not take issue with you being out of town for tomorrow and friday?"
     "No, Mr. Wiggles. I reckon they'll be happy to see me go for a few days. You see, one of my legs is about four inches shorter than the other, so I have a monsterous gait. Also, one of my eyes is wooden. The mexican cleaning crew at work call me 'El Blanco Peligroso', which means 'The White Dangerous'. I suspect my unpleasant visage will not be sorely missed and should allow them to happily dream of their mexican huts for a night."
     "Yes, sir. Very good, sir. Well, we shall see you at the factory around 1:30 tomorrow afternoon. Good travels, and remember to bring a bathing suit and cap."
     "Oh, I know, Mr. Wiggles. This isn't my first time dealing with dut. On the 'morrow, then."
     Ranthy feverishly packed, making sure he brought everything he would need for the trip: his baby blue suit, his favorite panda t-shirt, six pairs of knee high socks, toiletries, his money clip, and a .38 revolver. That night Ranthy dreamed he was running through a great expanse of a field, stretching for miles and miles. The more he ran, he could feel the very seams of his skin on his back splitting like a banana peel holding back surly argentinian spiders. While the pain was practically unbearable at first, Ranthy kept running, faster and harder, his feet pounding across the grassy plains in a strange elliptical rhythm, due to his monsterous gait. Eventually feathers burst through the cracks in his skin, lending a yelp of agony to Ranthy's throat. He stumbled and fell to his knees, the grass soaking with blood at an alarming rate. Ranthy reached back and touched the feathers. As soon as his finger tips brushed the feathers, he shuddered and a giant feathered thing burst from his back and circled Ranthy's exhausted and sanguine-depleted body, crouching down to meet him eye to eye. "So, you're the new supposed prince of the dut factory, eh? Well I'm Mr. Chirp Chirp and I've come to feast on your bones and spit out the unpleasant bits." Ranthy suddenly woke, screaming at the top of his lungs, covered in sweat. The intense dream had convinced Ranthy's slumbering body to treat his bed like a latrine. "My god", Ranthy thought to himself, "this trip is going to be more amazing than I initially thought."



- El Fin

A Little History About Chet "Brontosaurus" Thunder

It's been so long since I started crushing ass and enslaving the elements that I don't quite know where to begin.

Oh wait, I do.

I came out of my mother's womb riding a fucking motorcycle. My dad hired Thin Lizzy to play my birthing. Both Thin Lizzy and the doctors at the hospital agreed that my birthing was most rockin'.

Around the age of six I began beating up werewolves for their lunch money.

At the age of ten I announced over the intercom at school that I was the first student in my class to grow dick hairs. All the female teachers agreed.

By the time I was fourteen I had fucked more babes than my dad. And my dad fucked a lot.

When I was 17 I went to a Motorhead show. At that show Lemmy dedicated "Ace of Spades" to the first nine years of my life, out of respect.

On my 21st birthday I drag-raced a mummy.

To celebrate me turning a quarter of a century old, France called and apologized.

When I turned 30 I paid the Shriner's Circus to set me on fire. Fire doesn't burn me. It just makes me play more guitar solos.

That's a basic history of me, Chet Fucking Thunder. This is the first of many thunder fuckings.

You just got wet. Chet wet.