"If providence did beards devise,
To prove the wearers of them wise,
A fulsome goat would then, by nature,
Excel each other human creature." - Thomas D'Urfey

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Goatilocks and the Three Bores (Part II)

Now then, if you are just joining us, what the hay is wrong with you, anyway?  You can't just start in the middle of a story.  What were you thinking?  You will just have to go back and read Part 1 like everybody else.  Then you can read Part II.  Would you eat dessert first?

Now then, you may recall that the Three Bores had just discovered that their breakfast had been violated during their absence.  Deadly began sniffing the air, Mammoth looked around and then grabbed Alittle by the ear before he took off out the window after the chicken.  "I smell something", said Deadly.  "So do I", echoed Mammoth.  Alittle just said, "Ouch!", since Mammoth still had hold of his ear.  Then they turned, as one, and looked up the stairs.  "Fee Fi Fo Foat, I smell the odor of a stinky old goat!", cried Deadly.  (This is a highly unlikely scenario because everyone knows that goats do not smell.  Unless, perhaps you are talking about smelly old bucks, but then the Bores would have figured that out somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 miles away.  Thus I feel it necessary to point out that even though Goatilocks is most certainly not a smelly old buck, the Three Bores simply had to have some way to figure out she was upstairs.  Literary license.)  Up the stairs stomped the Three Bores.  When they reached the top, Deadly peered at his bed.  "Interesting.  Everything looks fine and no one seems to have disturbed my poster of Sarah Palin."   "And my bed is still just as saggy as it always was", replied Mammoth.  But Alittle took one look at his bed and cried, "Where the heck is my chicken?!"

Goatilocks woke up with a start and saw the Three Bores staring at her.   She jumped up and ran out of the house, into the woods and all the way to the river.  As she stopped to catch her breath, she was grateful she had remembered to grab the basket of Peanuts for GrannyGoat.  She thought about eating one, just to settle her nerves, but with some things it's just better not to go there in the first place.  So Goatilocks looked up and realized she was at the bridge over troubled water, for beneath the bridge lived a hideous creature - the creature, Goatmother.  (What?!  So she managed to crawl up out of the abyss and ask for a new part.  What was I supposed to do?  Just think of it as recycling.)

As Goatilocks stepped out onto the bridge, the hideous creature, Goatmother, hollered from below.  "Those who cross must pay the toll.  Twenty Peanuts in my bowl."  After the debacle at MoorDoors, the Goatmother had embraced poetry and set about trying to find a venue from which she might be 'discovered'.  She was dressed all in black with a jaunty little black beret, and she kept trying to grow a goatee but her hormones weren't far enough gone yet.  "Twenty Peanuts or the jig is up.  Twenty Peanuts or I'll eat you up!", spouted the creature.  But though she was totally put off by the bad poetry, Goatilocks refused to pay the toll.

Suddenly the creature, Goatmother, leaped from beneath the bridge and ran straight at Goatilocks.  As luck would have it (Forget skill. Luck is definitely where it's at.), the Three Bores had followed her to the river.  Deadly saw the repulsive creature and jumped in front of Goatilocks uttering mind-boggling campaign stratagems for Newt Gingrich.  The creature, Goatmother, began backing up, a look of abject horror overtook her features, and she disintegrated before their very eyes.  True to his name, Deadly was.  Goatilocks began backing up, too, because she thought the Three Bores would turn on her next.  Instead, Deadly and Mammoth came forward and said, "We only wanted to know if you thought the meal was good enough to write a 5 star review and post it on Yelp."  "Oy," said Goatilocks.  "Is that all?  Well, it was very good, although perhaps a few chopped Peanuts over the top might give it a bit more panache - that certain je ne sais quoi."

And with that, Goatlocks was on her way to GrannyGoat's again, the coattails of her fashion-forward red cloak flapping behind in the breeze.  Upon finally reaching her destination, she knocked repeatedly at the barn door of GrannyGoat's dwelling.  From inside she heard a faint, "Come in."  The voice sounded rather odd - not at all as she remembered.  On top of that, the voice had replied 'come in' when anytime before, GrannyGoat, being Nubian, would have said something more like 'What the hay was that noise anyway?'  So Goatilocks slowly pushed the door open and stepped hesitantly inside.  GrannyGoat looked oddly taller.  And thinner.  And her ears, though scrunched beneath her night cap, looked strangely less pendulous.  "My, GrannyGoat, what long legs you have." said Goatilocks.  "All the better to reach the best hay with, my dear.", replied GrannyGoat.  "And GrannyGoat, how thin you have become.", declared Goatilocks.  "I signed up for Weight Watchers last month.", answered GrannyGoat.  "And your ears, Granny Goat.  Your ears seem to be sticking out instead of hanging down."  "Probably just  a result of my new Miracle Ear hearing aids.  Can't even see them, can you?", queried GrannyGoat.

Something was definitely wrong here.  GrannyGoat would have entirely forgotten anyone had come to visit by now, looked at her,  and asked 'Who the hay are you and how the hay did you get in here anyway?'  So Goatilocks, with suspicion in her tone, remarked, "GrannyGoat, what a large forehead you have."  With that GrannyGoat jumped up, threw off her shawl and night cap and cried, "All the better to BUTT you with, my dear Goatilocks!   MwaaaaHaaaaHa and Ha!"  In reality, the evil Alpine, Ella, had taken GrannyGoat's place.  Ella hurtled forward in an attempt to T-bone Goatilocks, knock her across the room, and steal all the precious Peanuts. Then her diabolical plan was to eat as many as she could, and slobber all over the rest so no one else would possibly want them.  Lo and behold, from out of nowhere came a blinding blur of feathers and fluff.  The enraged enigma descended on the head of the evil impostor like a Cloud Nine high loft triple chamber ball of power plumage.  It pecked and spurred for all it was worth until the dastardly would-be Peanut pilferer had fled in cowardice.  "Who are you?", asked Goatilocks, her voice dripping with admiration.  " I am ... THE CHICKEN!", came the answer.

Goatilocks and the Peanuts were saved.  The chicken returned to the house of the Three Bores in order to prove to Deadly and Mammoth that Alittle was not actually in need of Ritalin.   The creature, Goatmother, did not really disintegrate, but was, instead, merely practicing for yet another new career, this time in magic as The Great Goatmotherini. It doesn't pay as well as poetry, but it is much more effective at getting you out of the house.   Besides, you don't have to try to grow a beard because no one will remember what you looked like when you disappear anyway.  And GrannyGoat?  Well, GrannyGoat wandered out of the other half of the barn wondering what had really happened, who had come to visit, what she had been doing when they had come to visit, and what she had been going to do when who she didn't know was coming had showed the hay up and caused whatever she didn't know had really happened. And Goatilocks?  Well, Goatilocks, having experienced so much trauma, yet having remained astute enough to realize something just wasn't right, decided to reward herself and ate all the Peanuts.  Kind of a no-brainer, that one.  Would you expect anything less from such an exceptional goat?  I thought not.



Millie said...

I definitely think eating the peanuts was a good choice.

Marigold said...

Dear Millie,
You know it, girlfriend!

Mrs. Micawber said...

Of course I would eat dessert first. Life is short...

What a stellar story. The hormone part really hit home.

I think the Goatmother should write a book about her abused childhood and go on the talk-show circuit. That might pay even better than prestidigitation.

An idea for the next epic masterpiece: Goathog Day, a tragic tale of a poor young NPR-supporting goat who is forced to listen to the exact same news story day after day - a story of battling belittling politicians running for barn office. How will she break this deadly cycle of non-news, and induce the reporters to talk about something else for a change?

"Auntie" sezzzzzz... said...

Ate all the Peanuts?!?

Oh my goodness!!!!

Wasn't that kind of unkind, to poor old flustered Grandmother Goat?

But then, she HAD had a lot of trauma to get through, in a very short time. OK.... She could have the Peanuts.


"How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being."
~Oscar Wilde

Marigold said...

Dear Mrs. Micawber,
I don't know. I think I prefer to stick with fiction. :)

Marigold said...

Dear Auntie,
You wouldn't say that if you had ever seen Boo ... er ... GrannyGoat. Besides, I suspect Goatilocks is something of an emotional eater.

"Auntie" sezzzzzz... said...

Feb. 12th

Dear 'Marigold',
I'm sorry no one read to you. I would, if I could. Because I don't have memories of being read to, either. -pout- We could read to each other!!! Take turns.


Marigold said...

Dear Auntie,
Thank you so much! Could it be 'Three Billy Goats Gruff'?

denise f said...

Eating dessert first? Of course, I do. And second too. And sometimes I go for thirds.. Ooof, I'm full. I wonder where I was going withthis thoguth...

Marigold said...

Dear Denise,
Me too, really. Especially if it is Peanuts.

J (grossed out) said...

Finally, I had a chance to read Part II. My priorities are all wrong. I was most relieved to read the Goatmother resurfaced; you will never know how worried I was about her lost in some forsaken land. No wonder she became a black bereted poetress. The stress alone of falling, falling, falling might cause personality changes. I know, I know, it's just a story.

Final thought: after Goatilocks ate all the peanuts as a reward...what happened next? I can't help but wonder if this is the epic beginning of, "The True Tale of Peanut Butter."

I know what I won't be burying at the grocery store this week. UG.

Marigold said...

Dear J,
Not to gross you out further, but I don't think what happened after Goatilocks ate all the Peanuts resulted in Peanut Butter.

Mimi Foxmorton said...

I HATE when my breakfast gets violated! ;)

(I SO love coming here!)

Marigold said...

Dear MiMi,
...and we LOVE having you!!!!!!!!!!!!

Claire the Shepherdess said...

Marigold, you are undoubtedly the best goat storyteller in all the land. I enjoyed that tale immensely, and I needed a smile today. :)

Marigold said...

Dear Claire,
Thank you! I suspect you have had too much white in your life of late. I also predict that you will have less than 6 weeks more of the stuff. I am not as good as a Woolly Booger, but I'm a darn sight better than any ole' ground hog!

Kelly said...

Now that was a good story. I think you had better watch out for the Society of Nubians. I have heard that they can be worse than Palin. Now that would be a horror story. Nubians meet Palin. I know there is a book in there somewhere.

Marigold said...

Dear Kelly,
I don't think it will happen because the Nubians will forget who they met when they were going to meet someone that they thought was running for something that they forgot what it was.

Snowcatcher said...

You kept me on the edge of my seat once again! I loved the visual of the Goatmother, but I think she will be perfect in her new profession. Keep writing like this, and I'm sure many audiences will be throwing peanuts!

Marigold said...

Dear Snowcatcher,
While throwing Peanuts would be a good thing, does that mean this is a melodrama? Hmmm... perhaps I need soemone in a cape with a handle-bar beard?