Skip to main content

Harold Wannapus gets his first job at his Uncles Moonshine factory Part 2

The faded yellow and worn out mopad made its way over a hill, and through a valley into a well hidden area with lots of shrubbery and trees in a direction to which he thought he would reach his Uncles old dilapidated farm.

A few backfire noises came out from the back of his mopad as he reached a wall of brush.

"No brakes? Dad forgot to get to repair the brakes? I wish I had not clipped my toenails, I could have used them to smash the spokes and stop the bike! Damn the luck, I am finished! I just hope the bike survives so Dad can get to me funeral!"

He smashed through the shrubbery wall, as the motorcycle shot over a five foot ledge into a pool of liquid pig manure. Harold flew one way, and the bike the other. He had found his Uncles moonshine hideout.

Suddenly his Uncle rushed out of the shack with an AK 47 and began spraying the pig pen with a few well placed shots at the mopad, which just lay next to Harold. He shot out the last remaining right side mirrors on the bike.

"No!" Harold screamed "The bike will never pass its inspection for the road at Blinders Inspection Shop ever now! Dad is going to be pissed!"

Another shot ripped right down the center line of the seat, causing a flurry of feathers to come out and cover Harold.

"Stop Uncle Twootleminder! It is me, your half son in law! The one your brother cranked out of my mother! Dad sends his greetings, but he will be some mad when he has to drive in the winter months on that now metal seat of his on his mopad!"

Uncle Twootleminder from the great Twootleminder tribe from some Paradise in the Central Pacific came over and glanced a little more at his son in law in a half.

"Why, I drank so much moonshine, It looks like there is three of yeahs all lined up there tarred in pig shit and feathers. Harold, you say? From the great Wannapus clan? It does ring a bell..."

To be continued...


Popular posts from this blog

My Dog has ate a Ferrero Rocher.

I had only went into a store to buy a few Ferrero Rocher packages of chocolates... Then, I went into the next store, not realizing that I left the small, 3 chocolates per package, delicious Rochers in my middle vehicle organizer. On the way back, I did not even notice.

I had got out of my vehicle, and only when I went to search for something on that side, it all came together. The package was torn, with only one individually wrapped Ferro Rocher out of its packaging. She had selected one, and even tore the golden foil paper from the once existing Rocher Chocolate.

I looked over at my Dog. This was a little too much for me to handle. I yelled "Pushkin! You ate one of my Ferrero Rocher!"  Is she the only dog in the world that probably ate a Ferrero Rocher.

Good point in standing, she actually thought the process through. She did not destroy the three chocolates in the package, all in one bite. She used her incisors, exactly as a surgeon would, to take apart the package from t…

The Self Publishing 12 days of Christmas for 95 % of us...

What does Christmas mean for the majority of us self published authors. I think of the 12 days of self publishing... Scrooge approved.

1. The usual "Gesh, I didn't know you wrote a book! Where did you find time for that" from festive long lost friends or relatives.

2. When your manly friends tell you "Oh, I did'nt have time to read your books, but my wife read it and she sure likes it... But she likes just about anything she reads"

3. Where can I get a copy of that. I don't got a credit card so I can't order it online... Do you got any free copies...

4. The wife tells you "Why are you spending so much time on that thing. You got wood to split!"

5. Your son tells you "You should have put more pictures in that novel, dad. Maybe then I would have read it"

6. Your local library tells you "Oh, what a cute little book... We will put it way up there on the top shelf where it will keep the dust from falling on the traditional books"