IT WAS HORRIBLE. IT WAS FRIGHTENING. IT WAS A TRAUMATIC CHILDHOOD ORDEAL THAT SCARRED ME FOR LIFE. I REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL. THE DETAILS ETCHED IN MY BRAIN NOT UNUKE THE TATTOO OF MONSTER TWETTY ON MT BUTT. THE EVENTS OF THAT FAITHFUL DAY FOSSILIZED. AN EMOTIONAL TIDAL WAVE OVERWHELMS ME EACH TIME I RECALL THE CIRCUMSTANCES LEADING UP TO THE INCIDENT. IT WAS A MONDAY ... OR WAS IT A THURSDAY. NO, IT WAS A MONDAY. I WAS CARRYING ON MY FAMILY'S LONG HELD TRADITION OF FLEXING MY SINEWY PHYSIQUE FOR LOCAL GERIATRIC PATIENTS WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN I WAS THRUST INTO A LIFE AND DEATH STRUGGLE FOR SURVIVAL! THE PAIN WAS EXCRUCIATING AS I WAS BLINDSIDED BY WHAT FELT TO BE AN ARMY OF RABID MONKEYS RIDING SIDE-SADDLE ON MR. DRESS UP. MY STATE OF AFFAIRS, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, WERE FAR WORSE THAN I WAS ORIGINALLY LED TO BELIEVE. INSTEAD, I WAS CONFRONTED BY A MAMMOTH BEAVER. I HAD HEARD STORIES OF PSYCHOPATHIC BEAVERS TERRORIZING INNOCENT PEOPLE IN THE PAST. IN FACT MY RETARD THIRD COUSIN LEROY NARROWLY ESCAPED A SIMILAR BEAVER ATTACK IN 1983. I WRESTLED VIGOROUSLY WITH THE POWERFUL WOODLAND BEAST BUT I COULD NOT AVOID HIS BARRACUDA-LIKE JAWS WHICH INSTINCTIVELY SEIZED MY TESTICLES. I REMAINED CALM AND COLLECTED IN SPITE OF THE PAIN. TWO HOURS OF INTENSE HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT FOLLOWED, INTERRUPTED ONLY BY SHORT WASHROOM BREAKS. TO MAKE MATTERS WORST MY ARCH-ENEMY AND LONG TIME FRIEND, JUAN VALDEZ SAW THE SCUFFLE AND PROCEEDED TO HIJACK MY ONLY MEANS OF TRANSPORT. AS HE RODE OFF SLOWLY ON MY DONKEY I COULD THINK OF ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY. HE WAS GOING TO USE MY ASS IN A RIDE BY SHOOTING AT TACO BELL TO ASSASSINATE THE CHIHUAHUA!!!
