paulette's hypermeaningful weblog


Sunday, November 15, 2009

writing bs

The rat went up the hill to fetch a pail of water because that's where the water store is, at the top of the hill.


"Hello, I'd like to get a pail of water," said the rat at the top of the hill.

"And who sent you?" said the top of the hill water pail attendant.

"Why, my mother of course because my dad is busy at work, slaving away to put bread on the table," said the boy.

"How many pails did you want?"

"Just one."

"You're not gonna go changing your mind saying you want a second pail in 20 seconds are you?"

"No sir, I just want one pail of water."

"And what kind of water did you want?"

"I'm sorry sir, I don't understand."

"Do you want clean water or dirty water?"

"Clean water please sir."

"Here you are laddie."  And the water pail attendant rat handed the boy rat a pail of fresh, clean, crystal clear, cold water.

"Thank you sir."

"you're welcome, now go bid good tidings to your mother."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't understand."

"Tell your mother hello."

"Yes sir, I will."

And the boy rat began his way down the hill whistling merrily as he went.  He whistled the popular rat folk tune, "where's my cheese" and then broke into song.


Oh where's my cheese

Where's my cheese

Brother can you help me please


Find my cheese

Find my cheese

Brother can you help me please


The path went into a thicket which was shady and cool, and as the rat boy walked into the thicket, he took a deep, deep breath of cool, shady air.  It went into his little rat lungs and filled up his little rat blood with oxygen, and then he fell asleep standing up but woke up and lied down, putting his rat shirt behind his head for a rat pillow and falling asleep again.


A group of 15 rat marauders walking by saw the rat boy on the ground and expressed glee at their discovery.


"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

"A slumbering youth."

"with a pail of fresh, clear, clean water."

"We must express our glee."


And so, they all began singing their favorite marauding song.


We are rat marauders

That's what we are

We really are rat marauders


We like to maraud

And that makes us marauders

We are rat marauders


The marauders' singing woke the nameless rat boy up and he looked up from his sleeping, reclining position.  He was startled to see 15 mean looking people dancing around him, singing a song.


"Are you guys gay?"

"We are marauders," they answered in unison.

"I know that, but are you gay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do some of guys have sex with each other?"

"yes, but only out of necessity, if we don't have captured women."

"But I'm in love with Herman," said one of the marauding rats, and Herman the marauding rat smiled proudly.


And then the leader took the nameless rat boy's pail of crystal clear water.

"Hey, that's my water for my mother."

"Not any more, you little punk"

"Why are you so mean?"

The leader thought for a moment about his whole rat life and how he never seemed to fit in.

"I guess it comes naturally."

"I hate you," said the little boy.

"You'll get used to it," said the rat marauder leader.


The rat marauders left the rat boy in the thicket sans pail, pail free, and moved on to the rat boy's house where they found his mother cleaning the floors.  They gang raped her and captured her and carried her off to their hideout deep in the forest in a huge hollowed out buried log.


Numerous search parties were sent out, but to no avail.  Rat boy lived with his father who started drinking to numb his heartbroken, heartshattered, heart decimated pain.



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