I agreed to allow herself to come along if she agreed to be our target holder.
Penwose on Safari
I was on safari with the former Mrs. Penwose. I agreed to allow herself to come along if she agreed to be our target holder.
She has long been in search of the elusive Tooki Tooki bird after seeing it in her favorite show on the tele. There was also a talking gorilla and I have not the heart to tell her that she with her beady eyes and thick coke-bottle glasses is unaware the show was a cartoon.
I cannot in good conscious ruin her dream of finding the bird and surely will not sever my own serendipity of observing her efforts.
Her lawyer, who is also my best friend, or at least he is after absconding with her in a lustful affair that had to be strange and deprived me of the further joys of paying alimony, had no ideas what a target holder actually does?
I told him the name was self-explanatory.
He was a bit upset to hear she would be holding targets.
I assured him she would only be doing so during, “target practice.”
He gave his approval after the presumption we would not be using real ammunition.
What a silly twit he is as well as she. If we do not use live ammo why would we need someone to hold the targets?
My motto has always been, “Walk softly and carry a big bazooka,” which is what I shouldered over my shoulder while handsomely strutting through the bush in search of elephants.
I had shot one the previous day. Unfortunately it was the one the former Mrs. Penwose and I were riding and now we are afoot.
We were near a river and spied a pack of pachyderms frolicking in the water. We had been in the hunt for suitable drinking water but that little episode muddied our thirst.
They came out of the water and started throwing dirt all over themselves. Naturally we were quite confounded as this seemed to negate the reason for taking a bath. I suppose that is what one does when no towels are available.
A gentle breeze was blowing from us in the direction of the elephants. Our guide told us they may pick up our scent and attack. I smirked and advised him of the absurdity of an elephant getting a whiff of us over its own odor.
The pachyderms attacked!
We heard the herd then saw the mastodons charging toward us.
I and the former misses were taken completely by surprise. Our guide was already a mile away.
I fumbled with my bazooka and dropped it. The former misses did not wish to slaughter a Tooki-Tooki bird but merely capture one and was armed only with a tranquilizer gun.
A big bull ran between us. She took aim and fired. A dart struck my shoulder.
Everything was tranquil when I woke up. At least it seemed so to me.
We were back at camp. Our guide had run so far away he was able to bring back take-out. It seems no matter where you are you can always get Chinese.
The misses told me what happened I asked her how in the bloomin’ world she could miss a bloody elephant and hit me.
She said the sun was in her eyes.
I told her if the sun was in her eyes when she faced the elephant, IT would block out the sun. That was science at work.
She tried to shoot me again with my own bazooka, saying it was justifiable homicide at work.
Of course I had to laugh. If she missed an elephant she’d never hit me
As usual I was right again…Missed Me!
Unfortunately you really don’t need to hit a bullseye with a bazooka.
I feel like Fearless Fosdick.
Bye, George,
Ron