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Friday, August 11, 2017

Squeaks

The following is an excerpt from one of the many hilarious stories in LawDog's second straight bestseller, THE LAWDOG FILES: AFRICAN ADVENTURES.

SQUEAKS, Part 1

Many, MANY moons ago—and don’t even ask, ’cause I won’t tell you—when I was still a pup, the family lived in Nigeria. We had a bungalow at the Odibo Estates, out near the Biafran border. Every evening peddlers, called traders, used to walk up and down the main road, offering various knick-knacks and merchandise for sale or trade.

Ali Cheap-Cheap was one of the busier traders, and he spent a lot of time on our front porch haggling with Mom. Now, Ali Cheap-Cheap was very proud of his ability to acquire just about anything you might want or need.

One evening, Mom was visiting on the front porch with the visiting wife of one of the English engineers. Said wife had never been outside of London before, and as a consequence, she loathed Africa. She and Mom were chattering and griping when along came Ali Cheap-Cheap. Old Ali Cheap-Cheap didn’t have anything that Mom or the English lady wanted, so, before he wandered off, he asked if, “Madams want for anything?”

The English lady got a funny look in her eye, tapped her snake-hide purse and said, “I want one of these.” “Yes, madam,” replied Ali, and off he trotted.

About three weeks later, Mom and her new English friend were on the front porch again, when along came Ali Cheap-Cheap. With a friend. Ali and friend had a cane pole slung over their shoulders, and there was a burlap bag hanging from said pole.

Now, at this point I should mention that also on the front porch, in addition to the two ladies, was a Mongoose-a-minium, in which lived our pet kusimanse, or as it is known to science, Helogale parvula, the pygmy mongoose. This Mongoose-a-minium had a Plexiglas ceiling which Dad had assured us was unbreakable.

Riiiight.

Up to the porch came Ali Cheap-Cheap and his buddy.

Mom was eyeing the burlap bag with some trepidation, having had some nasty experiences with what the locals tended to store in burlap bags, when Ali and buddy proudly lifted it and announced to the English lady, “Oh, madam! We have your beef!”

I should interject here that “beef” is bush slang for any animal.

Wait for it.

Mom had risen to her full height, and was about to order Ali to get his beef away from her house, when Squeaker, our pygmy mongoose, wandered out of his apartment, and screamed in sheer outrage. It was always amazing how much sheer volume that little hairball could put out. Ali and his buddy were startled by the shriek and dropped the burlap sack onto the Plexiglass roof of Squeaker’s residence.

The unbreakable glass promptly shattered and caused the burlap sack and its contents to fall into the Mongoose-a-minium. It turned out that inside said sack was one observably scared 15-foot python.

Squeaker, who was about the size and girth of a tennis ball, offered up a brief prayer to the Mongoose God for the meal he was about to partake of, and latched onto the snake’s tail with tooth and claw.

The snake discovered that he has been dumped into a place which reeks of mongoose, panicked and attempted to slide up the side of the Mongoose-a-minium and down onto the porch, but was hindered in doing so by Squeaker, who was not only still firmly attached to the python’s tail, but was bracing all four legs against the wall to prevent his meal from getting away.

Did I mention that the snake was approximately fifteen feet long?

Squeaker didn’t even slow him down.

The python hit the porch floor with Squeaks gnawing away at his tail like a chipmunk on speed, and noticed that, in the interest of ventilation, the sliding glass door in the front of our house was open about six inches.

Yep. You guessed it. In goes the snake.

Now, Dad and one of his Brit buddies named Tom were sitting in the house, drinking whiskey-and-sodas. Tom looked down and saw several yards of snake whip by, shrieked, and made a flat-footed, sitting-down leap all the way from the sofa to the top of the bar. Whereupon he proceeded to utter genteel curses upon all and sundry at the top of his lungs.

Dad looked down, lifted his feet, ensured that his drink didn’t tip over, and watched the snake haul scales with bemused interest. Dad didn’t ruffle easily.

And yes, things just got crazier from there. If you haven't acquired a copy of LawDog's African adventures yet, you really must. It's genuinely THAT funny.

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17 Comments:

Anonymous Brick Hardslab August 11, 2017 10:59 AM  

That is my favorite story and it only gets better.

Blogger David The Good August 11, 2017 11:56 AM  

See - why wouldn't you want to expatriate? Much more fun than air conditioning, sadly inoffensive snakes in the landscaping and shopping at Target.

Blogger James Dixon August 11, 2017 12:13 PM  

> Much more fun than air conditioning, sadly inoffensive snakes in the landscaping and shopping at Target.

Inoffensive snakes? Well, I guess a black snake is. Even if it is a 12' or so one sunning on the roof of our root cellar. The copperheads and rattlesnakes (thankfully far more rare), much less so.

Blogger Bigceltic August 11, 2017 12:22 PM  

So far I am liking this installment better than the first! Hoping there there is a third.

Blogger pyrrhus August 11, 2017 12:26 PM  

I was reading and enjoying this last night, but noted his introductory comment that he had toned down some of the stories to spare delicate readers...Is there a possibility of getting the unexpurgated version some time? I have been in 3d world countries, and have a strong stomach, LOL...

Blogger Mr.MantraMan August 11, 2017 12:47 PM  

Aunt Alice was married to a geologist that worked for a sugar company post WWII. So off to West Africa to civilize the continent and make it safe for corporate profits while living in thatched roofed huts.

Yep more than a python but a Black Mamba made its way in during the day, so everyday after she sent in the native women to chase off the snakes. She did not like Africa either.

Black Mamba or as my Afrikaner PH told me once bitten by Mamba cross your arms over your chest and after asking why he said so its easier to get you into your coffin.

Anonymous Anonymous August 11, 2017 1:27 PM  

Many, MANY moons ago—and don’t even ask, ’cause I won’t tell you—when I was still a pup, the family lived in Philadelphia. We had a bungalow at the Odibo Estates, out near the Montgomery County border. Every evening peddlers, called traders, used to walk up and down the main road, offering various knick-knacks, crack, mixed rap albums and merchandise for sale or trade.

- Mobutu

Blogger KBuff August 11, 2017 1:41 PM  

Bought it a couple of days ago after reading the first book. About a fifth of the way through this one. At least as funny as the first.

Anonymous NobodyExpects August 11, 2017 3:59 PM  

Have read that piece a couple of times, but still could not avoid laughing out loud at that line about a tennis ball and the mongoose god.

Anonymous Clay August 11, 2017 5:32 PM  

I live in Mississippi. Read gas meters for a year.

You wouldn't believe the crap I saw.

Don't think they didn't bring Africa with them.

Anonymous The Original Arrogant Penguins Fan August 11, 2017 6:39 PM  

Ok yeah I need to get this. Anything that I could not give a shit less about that still yet amuses me is a must have.

Blogger LP9 August 11, 2017 8:42 PM  

thank you! I so enjoyed this!

Anonymous Obie August 11, 2017 9:54 PM  

I recall watching an episode of "Arthur C. Clarke's Mysterious World" in which a helicopter pilot described his encounter with a fifty-foot-long python in the Belgian Congo.

There are big snakes and then there are big snakes.

Anonymous Anonymous August 11, 2017 10:00 PM  

Inoffensive snakes? Well, I guess a black snake is. Even if it is a 12' or so one sunning on the roof of our root cellar. The copperheads and rattlesnakes (thankfully far more rare), much less so.'

Damn right. I have one in the basement on a regular basis during the warmer weather. No mice and the cat is going hungry...

- Mobutu

Anonymous logprof August 11, 2017 10:40 PM  

The first Lawdog will be the next book I buy.

Also, it seems uncanny that while The Missionaries this far has been a delightful romp, almost at precisely (according to my Kindle Fire) at the 50% mark, this tale has taken off into a high but dark stratosphere of top notch satire. I don't think I'll finish this weekend without finishing this book.

Blogger The Overgrown Hobbit August 12, 2017 12:38 AM  

Such good books. Thank you!

Blogger woodenavaklu August 16, 2017 9:01 AM  

One might be able to put a third worlder into civilization. Getting civilization into said third worlder is a whole different ball game.

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