Chubby the Dachshund


I work graveyards, so I usually wrap up my shift in the early morning and I had home in the wee hours…usually when everyone is just beginning to stir.  Nevertheless, at 8am or so, I am very groggy and desperately looking forward to heading home to gulp down a cup of joe or two before hitting the hay.

This is usually how I spend my mornings.

Today’s morning was a little more complicated than that and sleep didn’t occur right away.  First off driving home was a bitch.  Spokane traffic is horrible during the summer.  You could be two blocks away from your house and pass by four traffic crews, twelve drivers who don’t know how to signal, a bicyclist who prefers to weave down the center lane, and somehow, no matter what, you will still end up overshooting your house and ending up on the opposite side of the city.  A five-minute drive almost took me twenty and my ’87 Chevette doesn’t have very many twenties left in her.

It's true.

Needless to say I was in a less than stellar mood by the time I reached home, so when I opened the door to an apartment filled to the brim with purple haze I was quickly delivered to livid.  There, in plain view, was a chubby Dachshund strapped into a baby seat next to a passed out ferret after a late night of smokin’ the ganja, looping “Beat It” on vinyl, and playing Super Mario Bros. on my NES!  Mopey was softly snoring, yet twitching and muttering about Goombas.  I kicked him as I went by and he started to stir some more as I put my coat away.

As soon as Mopey straggled his was out his slumber I asked him to head into the office.  We needed to talk.  The whole time Chubby the Dachshund just laid in his car seat making wheezing noises and occasionally coughing which ultimately knocked over his ‘snorkeling’ gear.

After some ferret harassment, which might border on the illegal Mopey confessed that Chubby used to be a political campaign manager to Anthony Weiner and since the great Weiner debacle Chubby has been out of the job.  Chubby was raised in a single-parent household with thirteen other chubby Dachshunds’ and it has always been his dream to be a politician.  Because of Weiner’s wiener tweets it looks like Chubby’s dream is all but lost, so he called up his old college roommate, Mopey, hitched a ride to Spojakistan, and spent the night wallowing in copious amount of weed, alcohol, Michael Jackson vinyl, and NES classics in order to ‘forget.’

After such a sad tale and with Malicious the Gorilla living with Bradley now I decided to let Chubby stay as long as Mopey cleaned up the house and lit some incense.  As he scurried off to clean and tell a comatose Chubby the good news I plopped down on my bed.

“Damn it Mopey!  Who painted Che Guevara on my ceiling!?”

“Vaginas R Us”


This week marks the beginning of my vacation and so nevertheless I have been taking it quite easy these past few days.  Nothin’ harsh, nothin’ extraneous is my current motto.  So, this morning I plopped my lazy ass down upon the couch to watch the newest “Colbert Report” on my now regrettable subscription to HuluPlus with a big bowl of “Lucky Munch.” (I’m too poor to afford the ‘Charms’ part, so I only get the ‘Munch’…after all I am a writer.)

As the episode of the “Colbert Report” began to buffer for the next four-and-a-half hours I snagged my laptop and began reading some of the morning’s headlines as I dove into my “Lucky Munch.”  First couple of headlines were ‘meh’ at best, but the third one down caught my eye.

Colbert makes too much money, and thus can afford actual "Lucky Charms."

“Crazed Ferret Molests Duchovny, Takes Gorilla as Hostage”

“Shit!” is all that came to mind.  Within a couple of Google searches I had the whole picture laid out.  Here is the information that I could gather from the intertubes.  Some sections of the web were blocked with blowup dolls, but I was able to gather what I needed to know about my retarded ferret and his shenanigans.  Here is a brief synopsis of the events:

Apparently, Hanz made it L.A. without incident.  No crashed Protégé, no pedestrians struck by a poorly insured Ferret driving erratically down the California state highway.  But, once they reached L.A. the shit really hit the fan quick.  High RPMs everything.  “Airplane” had nothing on the events that Malicious and Mopey traveled through that evening.  Malicious the Gorilla took off and hit several strip clubs in a drunken stupor before setting up his ‘nest’ at the classy “Vaginas R Us” strip club in L.A.  He then proceeded to get even more wasted and lets just say a 300-lb strip club bouncer does not stand a chance against a 600-lb silverback drunk off his ass with a wad of ones and a will to stay.

Yes, there is an actual "Vaginas R Us" in L.A.

Mopey, however, decided to ask Mr. Duchovny immediately about his script idea and with the help of the cast of “Big Bang Theory” was able to ascertain where David Duchovny’s house resided in the Hills with the promise to ‘get’ Walowitz a woman (Ah, gotta love Google Maps & Street View).  Nevertheless, Hanz, the Mopey Ferret, ended up scaling a 20-foot retaining wall and crawled into bed with David Duchovny and his mistress clutching a worn and battered script written in the ancient scrawl of ferret.  Needless to say when David reached over in the night and grabbed something unexpected and hairy Hanz and David equally flipped out.  Hanz began beating David with his script while David ran for the phone.  Long story short Hanz’s little butt cheeks were pumpin’ in the L.A. heat as a swarm of personal body guards chased after him.

David shocked after grabbing Hanz's....

Oddly enough Malicious was being chased at about the same moment by the ‘L.A. Bouncer Union’ (Unionized after the great stripper riots of the 90’s) after Malicious severely injured the “Vaginas R Us” bouncer by viciously tossing him into the stripper pole after he tried to take the drink out of Malicious’ paw.  Malicious staggering because of his drunkenness and Hanz because of the realization that he just beat his idol with a script they both headed to the Protegé.  They ended up reaching the Protégé at about the same time and screeched out of the city with as much urgency as a penguin looking for flight…both would frantically, and for good reason.

Malicious the Gorilla's expression while drunk, running, and passed out in the Protege's trunk.

The headline and video snapshot of my Protégé with a crazed ferret behind the wheel was taken by the L.A. police department, but miraculously enough Mopey and Malicious got away without being caught and no further instances.

Hanz behind the wheel of the Protege with Malicious passed out in the trunk.

Honestly how would you prosecute a gorilla and a ferret anyhow, plus who escapes in a ’93 Protégé?  I doubt the cops would have assumed that one…I sure as hell wouldn’t have!

In conclusion, Mopey made it back to Spokane in one piece.  He dropped Malicious off at Brad’s (they share a special bond, and since Celeste and I have moved out they’ve grown quite close.  Texting and whatnot), crashed my Protégé (fuckin’ A…again!)  at the corner, and passed out in the liquor fridge clutching his now bloodied script and a bottle of Bacardi.  I hope to God Hanz doesn’t try to clone David Duchovny now…at the very least he’ll probably try and sell David Duchovny’s DNA on eBay or something stupid.

The Protegé after he crashed it...

Happy Trees


Today we open with a tale filled with mystery and a bit of history.  Mopey the Ferret comes from a long line of crazed ferrets.  Some are more infamous and well known than others, but ultimately I decided to dig into Han’s past a little bit more this past week and create a genealogical tree for my little fury friend.

Last weekend, before Mopey hit the road with Malicious to find David, he sat before the television eating his morning bowl of granola while watching his favorite TV show, “Painting with Bob Ross” on PBS.  After the show finished up and Bob and completed the last of his “happy trees” Hanz muttered, “Franken-Ross” and slurped down the last bit of his milk and scuttled off to plan something more devious in the confines of his closet.

Mopey eating his morning granola, and watching "Painting with Bob Ross."

His sudden outburst was odd, but not unlike Mopey and I dismissed it.  Now we roll like a cube to a week later, with an absent Mopey and Malicious, and a completed ancestral tree.  Lo and behold I discovered quite an interesting tale about one of Mopey’s ancestors that explains his unusual outburst.

But first let me take you on a magical journey to a land far, far away…Canada.  You find a part of yourself you never knew you possessed and you may not, but regardless you’ll learn a little more about Hanz, and well…what makes him Mopey.

It was a cool crisp evening.  There was not a sound in the air.  The normalcy of machinery and electronics is gone from this world, because it does not exist yet.  It is a simpler time.  In age where man and ferret alike are just beginning to understand the sciences.  Hokum is the main stay here.

Within a dew encrusted field of unharvested corn lays a small house…more of a shack really.  The house is old, rickety and virtually uninhabited.  Crickets and mice fill the void, but beneath the shelter lays a basement, and within this basement resides another crazed ferret not so unlike our Mopey.  He looks near identical, but far more crazed than Hanz will ever become.

18th Century Canada

Bunsen burners, beakers, and bubbling, over-filled pots heated by hamster power cover almost every available space, and dead center in the room lies a table…a small monolith built to shackle a single man.

The ferret quietly works with his back to the narrator.  He shimmies, he paws, he mutters.  This type of work continues for many hours until all goes quiet again.

Then the pitter-patter of rain envelopes the eardrums with a steady, quick beat.  The ferret stiffens in response.  There is a crack, and then thunder and lightning erupt precisely once.

The ferret cries…”Eureka!” and steps aside to reveal a monster.  But, not just any monster, but the loveable Bob Ross!  Pieced together from fallen men by the mad, feral ferret, and Mopey’s distant ancestor!

Bob Ross...or, Franken-Ross?

Bob Ross cries out, frees himself from a stunned ferret, and rushes wildly and unpredictably into the Canadian forest.

I know this hard to believe, and that’s why I provided you pause to consider what I have just divulged.  But, Bob Ross is Franken-Ross, and he has been painting happy trees for well over two-centuries now.

He may be gone now, but who knows maybe our children or our children’s children will sit down with their granola and watch a painter paint his happy trees to a whole new audience that never even knew of…FRAKEN-ROSS!

Franken-Ferret
Bob Ross

Road Trip!


Well, Celeste and I just returned from our friends to the South, with Hanz in tow.  Luckily the Mexican authorities didn’t want to stir up any trouble, so with a couple of Benjamin’s passed their way they were more than willing to hand over Mopey the Ferret without any questions.

Hanz, however, is slightly traumatized by the event and has been particularly solemn the past couple of days.  He just keeps his head hung low, and even the stewardess on the plane couldn’t get him to eat his complementary peanuts.  Any reference to “nuts” just pisses him off even further because it reminds him of Mr. Peanut the Squirrel, which has now become his arch nemesis.  It even states it on his driver’s license that his arch nemesis is Mr. Peanut.  He just has to send in the confirmation, and then they can battle freely in the streets.

I was surprised that the plane ride didn’t make him at least a tad bit happy because how often does Hanz get to wear his flying outfit from his Abercrombie & Fitch days?

Hanz in his Abercrombie & Fitch flight outfit

Anyhow, the only time he has perked up at all is when the in flight film happened to be “Evolution” starring Hanz’s beloved David Duchovny.  I think if he didn’t have David he would be Hanz the Comatose Ferret, instead of Hanz the Mopey Ferret.

Evolution starring David Duchovny

Ultimately, he’s decided to stay at our apartment once again.  I think his trust for us has been rebuilt since we came and rescued him from Mexico.  Also, Malicious Gorilla seems to comfort him.  As quiet as Malicious Gorilla is he seems to make Mopey the Ferret feel very at home.  I find them cuddling quite often when I get up in the night to head to work.

Hanz head is nestled tightly in Malicious the Gorilla’s forearm as he slowly rocks him to sleep.

Malicious the Gorilla and his comforting ways

—————————————————————————————————————————-

I woke up this morning to find Mopey the Ferret and Malicious Gorilla gone!  My ’93 Protégé is missing as well, and the only thing to mark that they had even lived here is the large amount of feces in the closet where Malicious resides and a hastily scrawled note that reads, “Gone to Hollywood to meet David. ~Hanz”

Hollywood

Honestly, the only part that surprises me is that Malicious went with Hanz…hopefully they’re all right, but the hell how am I supposed to get to work now?

My '93 Protege

Betting on the Chihuahua Races


Today, I woke up groggy like most mornings, glanced over at my phone, which glimmered with a picture message icon that had been sent from an unknown number.  I didn’t think much of it at the time and I ended brewing some coffee, placing my annual Chihuahua racing bet for Cinco de Mayo upon Zoomie Schultz, and then started into some much-needed relaxation by slaying Goombas before I decided to check the message.  I couldn’t believe my eyes once I opened the message!  I’d describe the horror to you, but you’ll just have to see what I received in order to believe it.  Here’s the pic I received this morning on my mobile:

Enslaved Ferrets in a Mexican Jail Cell

Apparently, Hanz was in trouble and had sent me a last-ditch message pleading for his safety as well as the safety of others.  Luckily I know a guy, who knows a guy, who also knows a guy, who was able to help me out.  After a lengthy game of phone tag I eventually found out where Hanz and gone and what had happened.

Apparently, he ran off from my parent’s house shortly after a particularly terse argument with my sister Caitlin about how David Duchovny is NOT the greatest actor in the world.  This argument occurred yesterday morning, so he had only been on the prowl for a day or so.  This argument enraged Hanz and he had promptly ferreted off with his duffel bag and Orange Lantern, Lantern in paw to a supposed friend’s house.

Mopey Enraged After his Argument with Caitlin

Apparently while in Arkham he met another inmate who was liked-minded and was released just a tad earlier than Mopey.  His name is Mr. Peanut and he happens to be a crazed, health nut of a squirrel obsessed with ruing the day.

Mopey thought that he could trust Mr. Peanut because of the experience that they shared, but as soon as Mopey entered the squirrel’s abode he was abducted via drop down cage and quickly shipped off to Mexico for several pounds worth of peanuts and a canister of Whey Protein.  Now Mopey is residing in a Mexican prison cell on Cinco de Mayo with other enslaved ferrets that also thought they had made a friend with a macho squirrel named Mr. Peanut.

Mr. Peanut

Normally on Cinco de Mayo Hanz would make his traditional nine layer bean dip, watch and bet on the Chihuahua races at my parent’s house, and get liquored up like he always does.  The most trouble he’d ever cause was maybe peeing in a garden or two before collapsing into a pile clutching his empty box of wine and autographed picture of David.

The Annual Cinco de Mayo Chihuahua races at my parents house!

Mopey doesn’t deserve this!

Nevertheless, as I write this post my girlfriend and I are packing.  We’re going to Mexico, and we’re rescuing Hanz!  And, once we return it will be Mr. Peanut the Squirrel who will rue the day!

I wish we had Seal Team Six...

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