Saturday, April 4, 2015

Story Board Saturday

This week I am skipping ahead just a little to a section that is near and dear to me. And, funny to boot. This scene actually happened.

Let me give you the short version. Years ago, we bought a farm. Now we already have one, but this farm had two-three hundred acres. We put our house up for sale and my husband spent afternoons and weekends clearing, fencing, and cross-fencing this land.
Note: His love of farming inspired this story.
Anyway, the man we purchased the farm from, still lived on the property. His small home sat behind the creek up against a bluff on the right side of the road. Across the road sitting behind a cluster of trees was an old house. It had been abandoned for years. A few hundred yards before the house was a cemetery and beyond the house was open field and woods. 

One Saturday evening well after supper the phone rings. It was Mr. Johnson, the man who sold us the farm. All I heard was, "yeah, okay. I'll be right down."

My Guy proceeds to get his jeans and boots on and drives down to the farm. All the while, I'm left wondering what's going on. Could cows be out? Could there be dogs chasing the herd? Lots of scenarios, except the one tale he came home with. 

Mr. Johnson, per my husband's dialogue, said, "You need to keep a closer eye on the wild going's on around here." Well, that piqued my curiosity. And by this time my guy is laughing so hard, I can barely understand what he's saying. 

He proceeds to laugh and stutter through telling me that a menage was taking place in the old house, and the woman ran naked from the building, screaming at the top of her lungs, "it licked me on the ass," with her two guys running after her. 

It seemed a cow found its way into the house and joined in on the fun. 

Below is my version. I've edited out some unnecessary parts.

Looking back on it now, she let out a small laugh. If she hadn’t been so hopeful, and then so despondent that night when it turned out to be a false alarm, she would have appreciated the hilarity of it all.
The unsuspecting trio had invaded Briar on the heels of another mess. ...
When the sheriff called at three a.m., she and Justin rode to a scene right out of Abbot and Costello, a vaudeville comedy duo turned movie stars from the late 1930’s and early ’40’s that her grandmother had sworn were the most talented men of their time.
The unspoken message that it was over and Justin could go home was like Uncle Billy wedging his three-thousand pound prized bull between them inside the cab of the truck. Suffocating and debilitating.
...
A cacophony of high-pitched, fast-talking and barely discernable voices met them as they alighted from the vehicle. Cassie didn’t know where to look first. Katrina Sanders, one of her oldest friends, stood near the sheriff in only a half-buttoned shirt. Cassie gawked at two men a few feet away, standing in front of a patrol car hands cuffed behind them wearing only boxer briefs. The ground around them was littered with clothes.
Her gaze swung toward deputy Suggs who was…shirtless? Cassie gaped at Kat. Oh. That was where the deputy's shirt was.
“I’m bleedin’.” And then it was all Cassie could do to try and keep up.
“Kat, honey, you’re not.”
“But, it’s sticky and it hurts. I’m sure it’s blood.” She waved her hand in the general area of her barely concealed buttocks.
“Babe,” deputy Suggs rubbed Kat’s arms. “I promise, you’re fine, but I’ll …”
“Suggs, the report.” Sheriff Barnes barked.
“But Sheriff.”
“Now.”
“I saw this… thing with wings behind it come flying at me out of the dark. Da…darn near ran over it before I realized it was Katrina.”
“I thought it was that dude, you know.” Katrina turned to the sheriff, adding her own story to the mix. “Catch him. He’s a serial killer, has knives and claws.” Kat sobbed, a hiccup cutting off her words.
“Katrina. No one’s been hurt…”
 “I have... Well...” she shifted from one foot to the other, “it was rough, scratching and scraping...”
“Ms. Sanders, please let deputy Suggs explain.” Exasperation in the sheriff’s voice mimicked Cassie’s mood.
“Fine.” She turned in a huff from the men only to catch Cassie and Justin gaping at them. Dazed, Cassie managed a meager finger wave when Katrina raised her hand trying to call them over.
 “We thought she was shot by the way she was screamin’. She never screamed like that when we…” the male voice muttered, trailing off, obviously daring not to finish his comment to the female officer.

More later. 

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather Time Period: 1500 - 1600 Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.