Love Runs Deep

A fat mole lived in an old mans front lawn. The soil was very fertile so the grubs multiplied voraciously oh to become delicate little feasts. The old man loved that mole and would pet its hairless flesh when he ate too much and had to push out of ground to lay bloated on the dewey green night grass. The old man's wife wanted roll-on grass in the front yard though and she was never denied any thing. He called the Roll-on Grass Co. They said they would come. They were on their way and the old man still didn't know what to do with the mole. He tried to catch it but he knew he'd have to use a baited trap, the roll-on truck was on it's way! The mole was caught and put in the backyard, a bigger juicier garden of eden than the familiar front lawn humble abode. The truck pulled up right as the mole dug in and the old man smiled widely.


The problem with the mole living in the backyard is what I'm about to tell you. You see, the utopic situation didn't last long for the next door neighbor liked to loll about on a lawn chair in the back yard. This is all fine and well except that she often made eagle eye inspections for deviation. She immediately noticed the mole trails and it gave her the willies to think about the fleshy stub of the moles body burrowing around underneath her lawn chair. She began putting hexes on the mole. The hex list is long and painful to hear and for the mole it was unbearable trauma. First the neighbor tried to hypnotize the mole with a large ticking clock to the ground so it would come out of it's hole and be lead into the kitchen and then into the blender where it would be blended up. This didn't work so the hex giver boiled 2 beetles and a praying mantis head and called upon the light of the sun to shine through the magnifying glass and in turn burn the mole like my brother burned ants in the sands of California. There were many more horrors, rained upon the poor mole, atrocities every one. This all sucked so once the day was done, gone the sun's blinding light, the mole journeyed to a new dark haven, and the old man never saw the mole again.

Everything that can go wrong, will!


"Hey mole, I will get you in the end because I don't like you, ugly. The minute you upset my restful lawn chair peace, you burnt a bridge, moley. I'm not the forgiving type either. You may have gotten away for now but I will conquer you in the end. That's right Love doesn't conquer all, I do. I will get you when you are minding your own business, you will look to the rear for a grub and there I will be glowing and refreshed from my bath, ready to stomp your ugly stump head into the gravel, so there. Don't think you can disuade me either because my life's goal is to stalk the pale ilk of the earth, Yes you mole you. Death wish from above and below and from me. Water torture agony and then, Die."


The Hex Giver, Cholar Membie, is somewhat demented from an incident long ago. 10 years ago, in her youth, she threw her dolls out the window and became obsessed with a string ball: she bathed it, pet it, why she even let it tousle in the wind. As a teen, she pulled it through her earring hole once and wore it like that for several days. It felt "good" inside her. She even named the string. She called it the Little Bucking Bronco string because of the way it would jump when she put a straw full of water on it. It was a very fine thing indeed to watch it jump about. Life was getting on all right until the day when she was petting Little Bucking Bronco and the Prissy OLD TOWN GOSSIP (no names) caught her in the act. Her affiliation with the string ended up being one of the well known facts of the day, every one laughed at Cholar Membie. They thought she was foolish, devoting all her time to a mere string. Perhaps she was foolish but you know with a fools smile the truth can be told. The truth The truth And the truth was that she was Very capable of romance with anything, a plant, a cat, even a pet rock, or as in this case, a lovely string. For Cholar Membie, the Hex Giver, romance was the spice of life, not in terms of flowers per say, but in terms of passion so hearty that it encompassed all the boundaries of uplifted spirit.
We now hold in our mind a picture of this lucky lucky woman, the quintescent fool. Ah the fools freedom of heart. With fool's smile Cholar Membie the Hex Giver played a nasty prank of wet noodles on the door knob and put an anonymous note in the mail slot of the prissy OLD TOWN GOSSIP. When opened, the note belted 'till tenitus, "You're limp of life, Priss, YOU have the culminating attitude of a complete and utter pre adder platter - scaly snake in the grass, whose main goal's gyrating doom."
Cholar Membie hunkered down on the gravel and stewed angrilly, "Oh so superior airs, superior airs, they will get you in the end when your mousy old ninny neighbor, always good for a hearty laugh due to general oddities gets buried on top of you in an overcrowded graveyard. For revenge and spites sake, your dead neighbor on top of you won't let you out of your coffin when you thirst for blood. In big head madness, you're one down when you're one up. So tie a string around your finger to remember, keep a fool's love for everyone great and small, like Cholar Membie does, and you're safe from starvation in the grave(as a blood sucker at least)."
Cholar Membie got up from the gravel and stalked over to the neighbors fence, shaking her fists at the curtained windows, "You are not hopeless but Miss Priss's are! Little will they ever know about the power of string and fools. They'd never think of a string as more than a bit of fiber to sweat on, something to leash the cat to while walking in the cement park." It was a bit much to take.
In fact it was so enraging for Cholar Membie, she decided only war could really destroy the Miss Prisses of the world.
So to war to war! Hupp Cholar Membie would get them, she'd get them indeed she would. She'd need a leader, she'd need soldiers to win this war. How to go about it? With your help, enlist! It took Cholar Membie 15 yrs to rise in power and gather her armies, but finally one day the war came and the prisses died by the dozens.


All rights reserved by military might.
1997 and beyond.