Granpa Agin

Texas Trailer Trash
11:15:12 AM

The sherrif comes by . . ;. One of our neighbors lives about a mile away and actually heard the old bastard's superhuman (or should I say sub human, non-human, or Hell, anti-human) barking shouts and so she called the cops. I let the sherrif in and he told me that his wife called him up at the station to say that she could hear his bawling too all the way at their house, (they live FIVE MILES from us!!), but not as loud as our neighbor one mile away. But the sherrif's wife did say that the vibrations were so intense that items on shelves and their metal kitchen table like glasses and coins were slowly moving. She thought they had a damn poltergiest. The sherrif said to Granfather, "STOP SCREAMIN, GRANPY." The old wiry troll said "KISS MY ASS, LAWMAN" and then when the Sherrif said that his wife heard him hollering all the way over at where they live, Granfather said to the sherrif "SO WHUT," that he coud hear HER SNORING, all the way over from the Sherrifs side of the bed when the sherrif was out of the house working a shift. Oh crap!!! What a mean thing to say to a man who can put tickets on your windsheild or WORSE. I immediately apologized profusely on behalf of the lying sunofabitch and said that Granfather was NOT carrying on with his wife: I knew it as a fact. The sherrif seemed pissed and said to me "I KNOW THAT, BOY." Then he went over to granfather an said for him to SHUT up or else he'd run him in for disorderly conduct. Granfather looked at him, narrowed his eyes, his head suspended upside down while trapped in the rolling mass of steel, body twisted, upsidedown and arch-backed, and twitched his foot, pointing his mug-ugly toe up toward his heaving sweaty torso."LEMME ASK YOU, SHERRIF: HOW DO YOU KNOW I AIN'T GOT ME A FIREARM HID HERE IN IN MUH HAIRY SCRAGGLY-ASS WEATHERED HIDE?" The Sherrif looked back, puzzled. It Was Like a Showdown in the Old West! The 2 men faced each other, staring, their eyes squinting through the dusty rays of bright sun which streamed into the window. The sherrif's hand hovered a few inches above his holstered weapon, his trigger finger quavvering slightly; Granfathers big mug-ugly toe slowly encircled the air directly above a thick hairy thatch of fur on the side of his neck which may or may not hold a revolver; (Law men in these parts have learned NOT to underestimate the evil wiles of Granpy). Off in the distance, a dog (Drive By) softly barked, and Granfather bit his lip, and made the quiet "woo-aa-ooo-aa-ooo" noise from his nose. Each watched the other for rapid maneuvers, and inapropriate sudden movements. ...speaking of "sudden Movements" With his hands totally restrained in his bent steel prison, and before the sherrif could react, or even blink, Granfather whipped that foot behind him and whipped off his ass the diaper. All in one instant, the strips of velcro screeched apart, the bastard bobbled the booty in his gnarled yellow foot, then hurled the smelly missile toward our guest, who didnt have time to duck or move. Just as granfather said "IT AINT JEST A WEAPON SHERRIF, ITS A LOADED WEAPEN, the diaper fanned open, its edge hitting the wide brim of his hat, pushed it off, then landed in its place, flopping directly onto his head with a sqiushy slap. The poor sherrif looked like an extra from The Crucible as one of those Dutch settler women from the 1600s with a little white bonnet on her head. (Except for the 100% Pure Granfather running down his ears that is.) He drew his .45 and pointed it at the ghastley monster's shrieking, laughing upside down head, which was cackling now like Roseanne Barr. I was begging granfather to PLEASE STOP! "YOU AINT GOT THE ROCKS TO PULL THE TRIGGER" he taunted him. But then the sherriff cocked the weapon. Granfather frowned deeply, his unified eyebrow scrunching in disaproval. The steel rolling cage jiggled a little, as the beast quickly jarred it a quarter turn, toward the TV table, where his one movable ankle reached for a longneck beer bottle on it. Granfather grabbed the bottle with his foot, then dug his big mug-ugly toe into the opening. Then he swung his ankle foward and busted the bottle on his own forehead. In a sly, menacing way, he scampered toward the Sherrif, brandishing the broken end of the bottle at him, waving and jabbing the jagged glass at him. "YOU WANNA PEICE OF THIS? YOU WANNA PEICE OF ME? COME AN' GIT IT, DONUT-EATOR!!" he caterwauled at him. i was very upset and begged Granfather to STOP NOW! The sherrif looked down at his gun, hesitated, and then decided he really couldn't shoot the ensconced bastard. (Besides, him and Granfather are freinds and play cards together on Sunday afternoon usually.) The sherrif also told me that he coudn't really put handcuffs on Granfather either, because he woud feel funny about it and besides there was no place to cuff him TO, being the ankle hung in the center of the contraption touching the floor. When the old creature saw that he put his gun away, he agreed to the sheriff's demand that he put the bottle down. And just when the sherrif went off to the bathroom to wash his head off under our bathtub spigot, Granfather threw the bottle AT ME. it just missed my face Now I WAS MAD. Granfther told me to hush up, becuase he said that he woudn't of throwed it at me if he knew I wasn't agile enough to duck. "AND IF'N IT WOUDA HIT YER UGLY FACE BOY," he said to me, "IT'D BE AN INPROVEMENT, SO THE WHOLE DEAL WERE A WIN-WIN SITCHIATION".



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