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Sharkbait's at it again

Did I drop the glove onto the road there or did I give it back, or did I stuff it into my coat so that someone had a rather cold left hand by the time we returned back to the garage?


Im going with stuff the glove in your coat and someone had a cold
left hand. Seems to be more of the Jimway style since Speed is one
of Jims good ol boy freinds.
 
I open the fingers of my right hand and the glove disappears behind me. Speed disappears behind me also. I slow down and pull off of the side of the road next to an old garage that is begining to fall down. Shortly, Speed pulls up and shuts off the bike. The exhaust systems tinkle as they begin to cool off. There, on the side of the road, Speed quietly puts forth an idea he has been working on. I can tell right away that this prank is going to fix old Shark right up.
 
One never knows when opportunity may knock at the door, so to speak. I have been able to slip past Mrs. Jim and make my way up into Sharksville to complete some covert late night reconisance. The weather has been pretty crummy but suitable for sneaking around in the late night hours. I have to park quite a ways from the Sharks Moms place, and then stealthly hike in. It has been rainy and foggy up in the hills and I have used the weather to my advantage, for no one in their right mind would be crawling around in the rain and fog during the middle of the night. I found and purchased a cool camoflaged cover for the Ranger at an early season garage sale, just in case the town Sherrif is out and about looking for me. At this same garage/ moving sale, prices had been slashed to the bone and I was able to negotiate handily on some well used camoflaged outer wear for myself and partner. There was no need to get all dressed up in new fancy huntin duds from Cabellas and then roll and scuff about in the dirt and mud when the previous owner of this stuff had all ready done it for us. Dirt, tears, and attractive stains have been applied to strategic points of the clothing so as to make all of your hunting buddies quite jealous. On a side note, are you aware that camoflaged duct tape can now be purchased for in the field repairs? Awesome. On the first night out, my partner was pretty nervous.
 
You should find somebody to publish you Jim! You could easily put a collection of short stories together from your posts, and I bet it would sell.
 
My co-hort in crime, not having much experience in being out in the woods after dark, was understandably nervous. My instructions to him concerning staying very quiet during our nocturnal expedition so as not to reveal our positions to any timberwolves, grizzly bears, wolverines, cougars, bull elk, or the occasional family of big foots, let alone the Shark or his nephew, the Sheriff, seemed to put him immediatly on edge. Working in the woods at an early age, and extended hunting trips (vs being lost ) into the vast outdoors has cured myself from most fear of the dark. We parked the Ranger and covered it up with the camoflaged cover and set off up the mountain. I made another mental note of the rapidly changing enviornmental issues that I have been noticing and have promised myself to bring these issues to the attention of the authorities. I have noticed a thinning of the air as of late. Hills have become steeper. Gravity has become stronger. The local enviornment has become warmer, especially when one excerts oneself, and even the night has become darker. I discussed these issues by whisper, one by one, with my partner as we slowly made our way across a small foggy meadow, surrounded by pine trees, in the darkness and drizzle. He agreed with me as he looked around alot. As we made our way downhill, we could make out the Shark's moms dimly lit barn in the distance. "We better wait right here for a few minutes" I say to my partner. He sits down on a stump with a big sigh and says "Whew, I didn't think this was gonna be so much work" I smiled to myself as I got some wolf treats ready. I smiled to myself even more as my partner said "What cha got there?" and grabbed at a wolf treat. "Man, this is good" he says in between chews. I was expecting an encounter with the Sharks Moms pet timberwolf 'Tiffany'. My partner was not expecting to see such a sight. Having spent some time around Casa del Shark, I have come to know Tiffany or as I now call her 'Tiff". She has an affinity for dog treats that look like beef jerky, and she can be readily bribed with stuff like that. Show up in the middle of the night without some goodies and Tiff will become suspicious and say stuff like "Jimway is right here by this tree" to whomever might be woried about ole Jim popping up out of thin air. Give her some treats though, and she swaps sides in a heartbeat and will follow you around silent as a shadow. She'll even let you know iffen a real problem like a grizzly or big foot is approaching so you can accelerate to escape speed. As I sat there, with my wolf treat ready, I looked over at my partner and wondered how Tiff was going to react to a stranger that was busy eating some of her treats.
 
Jim, I would like you to know that I also have noticed these environmental
issues you have mentioned with the gravity, steep hills and thinning
of air, ect,ect. Mentioning these things to the authorities dosent seem
to do any good, I belive there keeping it hush hush.
Im sure its something strait from the X Files, which by the way is all true.
I especially notice the gravity problem at night when going up the stairs
for bed and Mrs Wrench is already up there.
Anyway Jim, keep up the good work.
 
As luck would have it, I didn't have to wait for long. As I sat there looking at my partner, there was a small rustle in the brush just behind him. A lot of color drained out of his complexion. There was a deep rumble of a growl. My partner went very stiff and even his eyes stood on end. Since he was holding up his left hand with the treat in it, Tiffany clamped down on about the first third of his arm and ever so lightly used her ample teeth to scrape her treat from his hand. I can only imagine what must have gone through my partners mind. There was a rather embarrassing sound of air escaping as my partners knees came up to his chest and then he toppled off of the stump. Tif sniffed at my partner lying on the ground there and turned up her nose. "Hi Tif" I crooned quietly to the wolf, I mean dog. When she meets you she smiles, but to the unexpecting, it looks like a wicked snarl with her chops all pulled back, her mouth open, her ears layed back, and all three hundred teeth bared. I gave her another treat and scratched her behind the ear. Her back leg jumped up and down so I could tell I was in the right spot. "Whew, whats that smell?" I whispered to Tif, "Is that you?". Tiffany said no, it should be understood that she doesn't actually speak but uses tongue, paws, ears, eyes, or tail gestures to point stuff out, and she shrugged toward the body in the fetal position next to the stump. "Oh" I said. When my partner began to come around, I told him to wait right there at the stump while I made my way down to the barnyard for a look see. He seemed to have aged a couple of years right in front of me. Blue light flickered through the barn window as I stealthily crawled toward it. Shark or Ace is in there working on something, and my heart was beating pretty fast when I finally got to the spot underneath the window. I slowly raised up until my right eye could see through the glass.
 
To say that I was slow and deliberate on my approach to the barn would be an understatement. Stealth was the key word. I imagine I was nearly invisible as I advanced toward the objective like a puff of breeze, usuing a tree here and old piece of rusted equipment there to mask my stealth attack. It was raining and the ground was understandably wet and muddy. When I made it to the area underneath the window, I was feeling pretty good cause it isn't all that easy to sneak up onto the Shark. The blue flashes of light eminating from the barn came from a arc welder. I figured I was going to catch the Shark working on some sort of submersable craft due to the intelligence I have been receiving from my alcohol loving informant. As I stuck one eye up just enough to get a view of what that cantankerous old man was up to now, I was expecting to see a yellow colored craft about 20 feet long and maybe 5 feet high. What I saw made me begin to smile. I brought my second eye up level with the first. In the foreground there in the shop was a dressmakers form. It had a set of football shoulderpads upon it's shoulders. Attached to the shoulderpads was some round stock that was rounded and bent into a pretty good facsimile of the terminator frame. There were some red lights for eyes and a couple of hoses and some wiring present. It reminded me of a big foot suit that I have had a look at once or twice. Unfortunatly, I was unable to hear what they were saying as they had some old 50's music playing. Ace looked like he was half in the bag again on moonshine. He was propped up on a picnic table bench. his left hand holding up his drinking glass swaying back and forth with the music. The Shark was busy welding and fabricating and standing back to admire his handy work. Soon, old Shark headed out of my line of sight and I could feel the coil springs in my legs winding up to the breaking point. I had foolishly drank some beverage earlier and now found myself in need of some facilities but was valiently fighting the urge. Shark comes thankfully back into the room carrying an enourmous set of moose antlers and affixes them one at a time to the terminator framework. He exits and reenters with a fur cape that he drapes over the whole framework. It looks alot like a Werewolf with moose horns. The Shark turns the eyes on and I'm envyous. I can no longer wait any longer and have to run for the nearest tree. I nearly trip in my haste to return to the view at the window. On the back of the shoulderpads are attached a set of tanks with some hoses running out to the hands and back to the nose and mouth of the WereMoose. While I'm wondering what all of the hose stuff is all about, The Shark stands up underneath the contraption and takes the hand controls up into his left hand.
 
As I watch through the window, I see a flash back up the hill and then the dim glow of a cigarette from my partner. I swear under my breath. I just hope old Shark doesn't look out that way. One of the valves at his fingers operates a fire extinguisher that blows out of the Weremoose's mouth. I soon learn that the other valve operates a propane tank that blows fire out of the nose of the beast. I am beyond envyous and shake my head back and forth. I can see the dim glow of the cigarette from atop the stump. Old Ace steps forward with a spray can of WD-40 and sprays some into the stream of fire comming from the Weremoose's nose which produces a big flame blossom that envelops the radio which gets kicked over and unplugged. Now I can hear what they are saying. "Better git thet fhare out afore the hole place goes up" says Shark to Ace. "How bout ya try blowin some of thet stinguisher on it" says Ace to the Shark. "Wall thet's a powerful good s'gesstion" says old Shark as he puts most of the blaze down with his on board extinguisher. I suppress a laugh as I watch through the window. "Were goin to scare the shat out a old Smart**s when e sees this thang" says the Shark proudly. "Lets try it out back so's we can spool it up ta full speed" says Ace as he shuffles toward the back door of the barn. I am now concerned as my possible getaway route is based on going back through the back of the barnyard. I glance toward the hill and see the dull glow of my partners smoke, and shake my fist at him. I must try to stay out of sight but am afraid that Shark or Ace is going to detect the glow of someone or something standing upon the hill behind the barn having a smoke. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. "I'll tarn offen the lights so's we ken see the full eefect" says Ace. Old Ace swings the big old barn door open. I notice the dull glow of the cigarette get really bright in the distance "Dam**t", I whisper, afraid we are about to be found out. Although I didn't even think about it at that moment, my partner was in no condition to view an eight foot tall Weremoose stepping proudly out of the barn. I scrunched myself up against the side of the barn. When old Shark fired off the extinguisher and white clouds of breath came gushing out of the Weremoose's mouth, the cigarette seemed to go back and forth in a small area. When a great plume of flame blossom arose from the Weremoose's nose, the glowing cigarette dissappeared over the top of the hill after stopping at a couple of different tree trunks which further proved to me that one should not run thru the woods at night.
 
About the time I seen that cigarette glowing real bright and accelerating up over the hill, I realized that my partner was completely consumed by fright and would be heart and soul involved in a life or death flight to safety. I have seen this type of behavior once or twice over the years. My chief concern was to stop such behavior before the next county was reached as I didn't want to spend all night tracking someone scared past their wits end. Also toward the back of my mind, I wasn't too interested in coming up with a suitable explanation as to my whereabouts or activities during the evening, especially where a certain Mrs. Jim might be concerned, not to mention my partners battle axe better half. I was upset at having to leave the Shark premises just when things were getting interesting but at least I had caught them red handed in their little scheme and I smiled to myself for a moment. Then I cursed myself for bringing along a novice ( Good help is so hard to find ) leaving them alone in the woods at night and swore to myself not to bring anybody else ever again. I had to sneak diaginally to the tree line and then skirt the barnyard to avoid being seen. As I was accellerating up the hill despite gravity and thin air, I started finding clothing that I recognized and knew I was on the right track. A glove here, a glove there. A hat and then a scarf. Right before the meadow atop the mountain, I found a camoflaged coat with vines wrapped around it and imagine that the person who had just ejected from it was so wrapped up in fear and blind fright escape that when them vines was getting caught on the jacket that they squirmed out from underneath it in a flash and was more or less up and running in a flash thinking and knowing that those weren't vines but were the many claws and huge teeth of the numerous furry beasts that inhabit the woods at night just itching for a chance to slash or chomp at a frightened kid, hunter, hiker, camper or woodsman. I think I did a pretty fair immitation of Steve Auston(The Six Million Dollar Man, or in my case, The six and a half dollar man) as I was booking across the meadow. Up ahead I could now hear a large object crashing through the brush and trees grunting and wheezing. I slackened my pace and smiled to myself again as I began to slow down. For a moment up there in that foggy misty dark and creepy meadow, I thought that I was going to get off easy. My partner was even heading more or less in the direction of the hidden truck. Suddenly I was overtaken by a familiar but uneasy feeling that I was being followed and cursed myself for slowing down when in reality, I should have been throwing off some of those heavy and wet clothes so's that I could really stretch out some on my stride, grab at my partner on the way past, and get us to the inside of the truck.
 
Upon being overtaken by the uneasy feeling that I was being followed, which I reluctantly accepted with no great enthusiasm, I begrudginly slipped to a halt and turned to face the direction that I had just come from to calmly size up the situation. Pretty much everybody knows that if you find yourself being persued by a large hairy creature with huge claws and teeth, in a dark, misty, creepy meadow, in the late of night, it is a good idea to know how large and how hairy. Now the mature and experienced outdoorsman will have learned not to let his or her imagination drag or shove them into a full blown panic. What you want to do is look at the situation coldly and realistically, and that is exactly what I was doing when I made out the sound of big clawed feet heading in my general direction at a speed of approach that would make a Cheetah proud but jealous. Ironically, as I was coolly sizing up the rapidly deteriorating situation, the escape springs in my legs wound themselves clear past my hips all the way to my fingertips so tight, in point of fact, that they rotated my feet so that they were now facing 180 degrees in the opposite direction from which I was facing. Sadly, I suspect that it is not the 'Years' but rather the 'Miles' on my carcass that has made the trip release on my escape coil springs into a hair trigger to be set off by the slightest breath or nudge. The mere thought of calmly continuing along my journey to collect up my partner and return to the truck, triggered the release mechanism. The unexpected part was my arms setting off first so that I was running on all fours with great clumps of muddy dirt being thrown up by hands and feet for a good hundred yards or so. Since most of my body was still facing backwards during formidable acceleration, I was able to make out a large dark shape lunging toward me through the mist, a sight that caused no small amount of concern.
 
As the Sharks mothers pet wolf 'Tiffany' flashed past, I felt a wave of relief for myself, and I even took a welcom breath, but also felt a tinge of concern for my hapless partner who demands to remain unidentified. As Tif overtook me, she looked all the while like a cheetah or greyhound with long legs stretching first forward, and then straight backward, her long fluffy tail straight back in the slipstream, her body stretched out like an arrow. "I'll get him" smiled Tif as she passed, lips beginning to curl back above those big white teeth. Upon later accusatory reconstruction of the event, I was able to learn that my partner in the evenings festivities, who had asked to come along to 'join in some fun', had paused on the opposite side of the meadow to look back to see if he was infact being followed by some sort of big hairy beast. I suspect that he had run out of adrenaline and steam, and was ready to assume the (fetal) position again. Apparently my approach confirmed the hairy beast suspicions of my partner. In my defence, I never saw my partner until just after he began to explore the thin air just past the cliff above where the truck was covered up with its camoflaged cover. I believe it was just a small honest oversight on my part that I neglected to warn my partner about the whereabouts of any possible cliffs hanging around in the darkness. I did hear the pounding feet of a large creature grunting weezing and gasping as it was trying to escape. I was thankful, however, that my partner was displaying a remarkable sense of direction and was heading straight for the truck that was hidden down the hill. Just as I could make out the form of a reasonably white shirt running extremely fast just ahead, the shirt suddenly let out an uncomfortably high pitched scream (way higher than guys should ever be able to reach, I'm just sayin...) right before it slipped out of view. Suddenly remembering to myself that there is a cliff like structure somewhere in the dark directly ahead, I somewhat excitedly applied first the foot brakes, and subsequently the hand brakes due to the fact that I was on a slight downhill incline and also due to fact that because wet rainy conditions present, it was slicker than_______.(the reader is encouraged to fill in the blank on this one) Foot and hand brakes were working quite well but next came finger, knee, elbow, and also rear brakes, but not necessarily in that order...
 
Somewhere just in front of me but a little lower, maybe a lot lower, came the sound of a diaphragm emptying 'Whump". Now had my cohort in the evenings activities listened to me more attentively and followed instructions a little more enthusiasticly, I am confident that things would have turned out for the better. I brought up this point after I found my partner counting and sorting his bones at the base of the cliff. Thankfully I didn't have to carry him too far to the truck. After all of the excitement, he had a rather gamey smell which I for one, found a small bit unpleasant. Luckily, he had found a bed of boulders to soften his fall. Right after I commented on this good fortune, his mood swung to the dark side. He described me and the evenings activities with verbage like I have heard only once or twice. I'm now fairly certain that he has driven a truck in the past based on the different names and descriptions that he loudly hurled in my direction, giving new meaning to the term 'Talks like a truck driver'. I was relieved when Tiffany sauntered up and sniffed at my partner and turned up her nose. My partner froze stiff and stopped yelling in mid insult at the sight of her. My partners eyes narrowed a bit when I offered old Tiff one of her treats. Once his eyes narrowed, I was a bit more comfortable as it appeared that his eyes weren't going to fall completely out and roll around on the ground, a particularly unpleasant sight if you ever have to witness such an event. "Dog treats?" said my partner quietly. "Dog treats!" he repeated. "Dog treats." he said quite matter of factly. "This is a dog?" he said as he looked up from the hard place he was sprawled on in between the rocks. He reached up and snatched the baggy of treats from my hand and popped one in his mouth and offered another to Tiff who happily took it. My partner looked around suddenly and said to me "Help me up, don't just stand there." "We better get the **** out of here before someone or something finds us". Once I got his arms and legs untangled and had placed him into the confines of the truck and got the windows rolled down, he didn't look nearly as bad. He might even have the makings of a good partner in crime in there somewhere and I told him so. Thankfully, most of the new gray hair on his head was gone by the time I got him home.
 
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