Originally published February 1st, 2015
Raw and suffocating, fucking suffocating! The humidity works its way into you, drags you down and when you fall tired flat on your furry back, you can’t even see the orange sky cuz the world you’ve fallen into is totally green. A hundred variations of green with splashes of brown tossed here and over there. Lime green, yellow green, blue green with a touch of brown shit, get the idea?
I hate Jungles!
It ain’t never nice, never sunny, always wet or dry, sometimes on rare occasions it’s both, but never nice. You can’t walk ten steps without coming coming cross some kind of danger, be it snakedog or some damn twisted vine lying in wait to drag your sorry soul down to the rocky depths of Verbakken, the forbidden place where death and destruction dwell.
Like I said, I hate this jungle! That’s why most times I try to stick to my hearth, high above behind a clear flowing waterfell. It’s cool calm and mostly safe. There’s a ledge I can walk out on, half a mile past the waterfell, high in the sky, and watch the world go by. Watch the sun rise on my left till it’s midday than trace it’s route back again, to where it began, and start over, a new time. Below, a thick river trudges in a journey to some unknown place, a civilized place that some day I’ll have to see. For the moment, I’ll settle for the fucking jungle, my ledge, the river, and all the dangers and all the heartbreaks.
This isn’t just my world, it’s where mom and dad were murdered, their carcasses left to the vicious. This ain’t my home, this is my destiny and I’m of the damned opinion to do it well. This god forsaken, misbegotten jungle a friggin’ billion miles from everywhere is where the answers are. Some two or three piece bitch bastard knows the way, has the answer and I’ll find that piece o shit and when I do, I’ll settle the score, make things right, then I’ll think about civilization. Maybe not!”
“I’m Rabbit Pig, welcome to my fucking jungle, you asshole.” I politely mentioned to the squirm as I squeezed the 2 piece bastards gord. “Wanna die, fine with me. I can let go.”
I dangled the ol’ Fox Cat out over my ledge, looking him in his dying eyes, and sarcastically said. “It’s a mile down, you’ll make a mess, and I ain’t cleaning it up.”
Some denizens of this jungle don’t have a sense of life, much less fear. That’s the same as saying they don’t care if they live or die because they ain’t intelligent ’nuff to know what comes after life. Makes it hard to ask ’em a question, makes it harder to threaten them.
I watched the whiskers. A male Fox Cat will always betray it’s intentions in the movements of it’s whiskers and when I saw those whickers lay back, I knew what was coming. An unending unequaled assault from some dumb twofer that didn’t have the good sense to articulate a complete sentence much less know it’s life was over.
I let go, not bothering to watch the splat but not escaping the loud whizzing whine the little beast made on it’s journey to Verbakken. I was more interested in how the dumb animal made it’s way out on my ledge, holstering a gnarly looking finger gun. A deadly finger gun that had been pointed at my snout!
I knew who to ask.
The crooked wooden sign welcomed everyone to Crud City. Thing is ‘Crud’ wasn’t a city, not even a village. Well maybe a village if you considered a bunch of shambles and lopsided hearths that came and went on a daily basis. Crud sprung up in a somewhat clearing along the banks of slow waters. Most came and went, daily, weekly, one or two even longer. That being, there are a couple upstanding, permanent cruds. Soon after the first half dozen shambles sprouted up in the trees in and around the clearing, an earth hearth was dug squat in the center of the Crud universe with a new, big ass black and white sign hung over head, calling everyone to Max’s damn fine Booze and Food. Truth is, the food and booze was alright, but the whomans were obnoxious. Ya couldn’t swallow a piece of meat with out a mouthful of them suckers along with it, kind of like fly bees and shit, they go together. Not long after a night of orgies, booze, and some wild naturals a strange leaven and wood hut rose up down on the dirt banks. Larger than any population creation I had ever seen, the damn thing had a larger leaven woven circle outside it’s open door, and on the other side was a larger sign, larger than Max’s calling all of Cruds sinners to gather.
First question ever asked of Daddy Owl Horse was, “What the fuck was a sinner”? to which he replied in his whiny voice, ‘ We’re all sinners, my friend’. Can’t say that Daddy Owl has any success getting us sinners come listen to him talk about sinners, but when he started talking about his skill with naturals, and when he started backing that talk, population started coming.
T’ween the two, Max and Daddy, they were Crud. Soon after, population came and went in larger numbers and not much of anything happened less either Max or Daddy had their ear to the matter, and in some cases, their ear in the thick of the matter. That’s how I found Daddy the next sun come, thick in some three piece bitchs matter. I walked around back to the dirt banks and watched with no certain arousal of the rabbit being as Daddy finished his ride on some squirm. As a rabbit atrib, I was just a bit jealous of his horse hanging atrib as I laughed at him about his size.
“Come’s with the ears Pig.” he yelled from the banks tossing his loose garb on over his large head where it draped from his broad shoulders over his large, sturdy frame. As he reached a hand in his robe, “What d’ya need, Brother Pig”? he pulled out a tethered circle which fell across his broad chest, hanging from his neck.
“Need an answer Brother Daddy. An answer to why some squirm was up on my ledge with a finger gun, pointed at my damn snout”?
“No shit Rabbit? This just happen”?
“Just the other sun come.”
Daddy squinted one oval eye, and raised a thick, rainbowed brow over the other, “Wasn’t a Fox Cat, was it”?
I tilted my head just so slightly, and smiled, knowing I was asking someone who knew, something. “Fact, it was.”
“Yep, was, now’s it’s a splat.”
Daddy Owl Horse smiled, revealing large white teeth sat in a wide mouth, than started walking toward his leaven hut, “Don’t surprise me none. The twofer was here some sun comes ago, askin’ ’bout you. Wasn’t at all quiet about it either. Limelight before last, did a bit too many naturals, started treading on my territory, talking about bigger things, meanings to existence and all that. All kinda strange talk about things in the air…
And it was at that point, everything changed. I paid attention.
“big whomans and old ancient ruins. Kinda funny when the bitch slapped him silly and laid the squirm out flat, telling him him he was talking too much.”
“Bitch? What kind”?
“You know Pig, that’s the thing, a funny thing, but a thing still the same. I’m not quite sure what she was, not even sure if she was a two or threefer.”
My mind turned the corner to a thousand questions, and I reeled in them, but how could one not be called out. “Daddy, how could you not know the bitch”?
“Lots you don’t know Pig. Crud, your water and cave, that’s your world but the worlds bigger than that, lots bigger with lots of different things, lots of different populations you can’t even dream about.”
I listened, knowing the world was bigger than mine. I had heard stories from those who come, those who go and from those like Max and Daddy, those who stay. I knew because I remember as a young one flying through the air in some strange mechanization with my olders. I remembered when the damn thing dropped from the orange sky and broke into pieces. I remember my olders dying words, telling me to run, to run fast, run far and never look back, cuz they’ll get me, just like they got my mom, my pop. Yea, I remembered! And I knew where the pieces were, where the vicious came and claimed their prey. I knew why she was looking for me.
“What’d she look like Daddy’?