Monday, October 29, 2012

Good Hunting

something different - while reading this, watch! out! for ferocious dire-ogres and fantasy pandemonium - you've been warned - 

Good Hunting

As I stride this busy cobblestone 
road on my way to a surprise bash deep
in Darkening Forest, ravens perched upon
lightning-decimated remnants of the old
hanging tree chortle “good evening, good
evening,” a huli jing in human form with
long red hair, a thick luscious tail and a
sensuous smile undulates across the road-
way in front of me licking her lips as our 
eyes meet and I would choose to follow her,
but, “good evening, good evening!” from
the dwarves sitting beside the roadway,
belongings in their broad backpacks and
fear across their faces, and a “you’re late,
you’re late, for a very important scrape!”
insists an upright marmot holding a time-
piece as he scurries by...finally!! - the 
thirteen foot (and some few inches) dire-
ogre, its four arms with taloned hands
swinging assorted deadly weapons snarls
“good eating, good eating” as it leaps toward me
from the shadows of a weeping willow’s drooping
branches - I block a descending spiked mace
with my titanium razor-sword by shearing through
the waist-thick forearm, dodge the venomous spear-
shaped tongue flashing past my face and counter
with a slash across the protruding lipless lower jaw
shearing off 3 of 8 two-foot incisors while spitting
chewing tobacco into the beast’s flat, fist-sized right
nostril (note: I am not fond of chewing tobacco, but
as we all know, tobacco spittle forced up dire-ogre
nasal passages - both nostrils is best, but one works
well enough - inevitably results in a berserk, unfocused
desire to maim, mutilate and dismember all nearby
flesh and bone plus a tree or two) engage the three
remaining arms, the lower right arm swinging a tree
limb, the upper left jabbing with splintered remains 
of a circus tent pole, tattered flags still attached (one
has to wonder where that came from) and continue to
evade the ever-flailing forked tongue as I yell to the
ravens circling low overhead and the lovely red fox
peeking from a wild forget-you-never bush, “now this,
my friends” - parry, slash, cut - “this, friends” - scrotum
kick, stab - “this” - whack, screeeech! - “is good hunting!”

see you in a moment - ayaz daryl nielsen

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