Written by mikewadestr

Friday, 29 April 2011

The following story actually a true story. The story is pretty accurate and has really no exagerations in it at all. Well, except for the moon being seen in the suburbs of Washington DC, that is.

It began on an early spring's shimmering night
Shortly after the witches, on their blue brooms took flight.
There was Bill and Bat and me at the start,
Playing cards and eating fried chicken a-la-carte.

We were acting charge at the animal shelter.
Appointed by Tom before he left helter-skelter,
To keep an appointment he made at twelve thirty,
To visit the car wash of old Charley McMurty,
Who had noticed his hubcaps had gotten quite dirty.

Next to the table where we were playing our games,
Slept a large yellow dog that someone named James
And up on the counter in the light of the moon,
Was a large silver trap holding one very big coon,
Who arrived with Mrs. Napp at a quarter past noon.

The raccoon was the menace of West April Street,
Raiding the street coffers for something to eat,
Causing a big ruckus with all of his flap
And antagonizing the dickens out of old Mrs. Napp,
Who captured him in a new metal mesh trap.

After a while Bat said with a smile,
"That raccoon has a most unusual style".
"Why not let him out to play a short game?"
"He seems to be friendly and acts rather tame,
Keeping him in there seems to be such a shame".

Bill glanced at the trap and furrowed his brow,
He scratched his chin and asked, "Let him out now?"
"Surely you realize, that raccoon is quite free,
And may use our kindness to go on a spree,
Knocking over Tom's huckleberry herb tea".

But Bat was convincing, his words were not mincing,
His inductive rhetoric left Bill and me wincing.
So quicker than anyone could put up a snap,
Bat opened the top of that metal mesh trap
And out jumped the raccoon in no seconds flat.

After landing on the counter on all of his feet,
the coon smoothed his fur, so he looked rather neat.
He looked us once over and said with a grin,
"I'm up for some cards, do you mind dealing me in?"
"I'm feeling right lucky, I think I can win".

We all were quite speechless for a moment or two,
Until Bill said, "Bat, the deal is to you".
And so we sat down and of the fourth we did get,
Asked the raccoon what he was willing to bet,
Not realizing that our decision we would soon regret.

The raccoon scratched his head and thought for a while,
Then gave us a wink and said with a smile,
"A thimble, a candle, and a wheel off a cart,
Are just a few items I can put up to start,
As long you put up that fried chicken a-la-carte".

We agreed to the terms and the raccoon he did stay,
And all through the night, the cards we did play.
We played black jack, and draw, and Mexican rummy,
High-low, and low-high, and bric-n-brac bunny,
A game the raccoon thought was extremely funny.

There was merriment and happiness as we played our games.
Not one of us thought of the sleeping dog James,
Who had just awakened from his evening sleep,
And upon seeing the coon, made one mighty leap,
Towards the coon who jumped with a loud squeak

There was a bang and a bash and the sound of a smash,
As the table hit the floor with a very loud crash,
The raccoon ran away, from James he did flee,
Dashing wildly between, Bat, Bill and me,
knocking over all of Tom's huckleberry herb tea.

They ran over the desks and under the tables,
Through the long hallway and between the blue cables,
As the distance between them, James started a stealing,
The sensation of fear the raccoon started a feeling,
Driving him up and into the overhang ceiling.

He ran on top of the tiles and crossed over the wall,
Which divided Tom's office from the rest of us all.
From inside the ceiling, he cried out with no shame,
"I don't trust that old dog, that someone named James.
I have a feeling its not to please that he aims".

The raccoon stayed put, and refused to budge,
While Bill and I started to grow a big grudge,
Against Bat, who had started all of this flap,
By letting the raccoon out of that metal mesh trap.
For his actions we felt he deserved a big slap.

Bat apologized while climbing up over the wall,
The one between Tom's office and the rest of us all
He did his right best to get the coon to come down,
But the raccoon did not oblige and held onto his ground,
So, seemingly, a compromise was not to be found.

We could only see Bat by his dirty left shoe,
When he slipped off the cable that was holding him to,
Falling off of the wall and thru the white tiles,
Landing hard on the carpet beside the gray files,
With the raccoon on top with a very large smile.

We heard grunts and squeals from behind the gray door,
Some "AHHHHS" and "AYEEES" as they danced on the floor,
Til the door was thrown open by Bat with a scream,
Fully covered in dirt, showing no spot that was clean,
The office behind him glowing, with a most magnificent sheen.

Behind Bat the raccoon jumped over the wall,
And into the ceiling he began then to crawl,
when suddenly there came a loud crack, then a scream,
"I'm slipping off the cable that looks rather green
and into the next office from the one that was clean".

The coon fell through the ceiling with a very loud crack,
Landing hard on the ground, badly bruising his back.
As he looked up from the floor the raccoon suddenly froze,
As a large ceiling tile landed square on his nose,
Encircling his snout so he could speak no more prose.

Twas the assistant director's office that the raccoon fell in,
Struggling hard to remove the tile, causing him so much chagrin,
Leaving us all standing and contemplating our fate,
Trying hard to come up with a tale that Tom could relate,
When a pair of car headlights appeared at the gate.

The car was none other than the clean green machine,
Driven by Tom basking in the bright green gleam,
Who parked the car quickly and stepped out on the tar
And went for the door that was not all that far,
Not knowing the building was way under par.

Upon entering the shelter Tom saw the big mess
And heard the noises of the raccoon in distress.
We told how we let the raccoon out of that trap,
And how the dog James chased him up in a snap,
And what happened when Bat tried to put an end to the flap.

With arms crossed tightly Tom listened with a frown,
Then opened the door from which came all the sound,
Of the raccoon struggling to rid his nose of the tile,
Which was keeping him from showing off his good smile
And dampening his mood, putting a cramp on his style.

With the door finally open, the raccoon jumped up and ran
Blindly thru the gray doorway and past a blue fan,
At Bat, Bill and me who at the sight we had froze,
Of a running white tile holding one black and round nose
Moving fast thru the air with no help of some toes.

Before the flying white tile could cause us great harm,
It was stopped by Tom, throwing out his right arm.
Tom then pushed the coon's nose out with a loud snap,
From the white tile and then used his Ram-boon-a-la-strap,
To put the raccoon back into that metal mesh trap.

Tom made use of his wonderful clean-a-la-machine,
He stuck Bat into it until he appeared rather clean
And then he pulled out his magical organize-a-la-space
And used it to pick up and clean up the place,
An action, which brought a big smile to his face.

Tom sent us home and he turned out the light,
Making sure that everything had turned out just right.
He said of our errors to give them great thought
And to realize the damages, that we had brought
And the dangers of freeing a raccoon had wrought.

The story I've told you is really quite true,
Just please try to keep it between me and you
And don't let out a raccoon that looks rather tame,
Unless there's no dog there, that someone's named James.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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