In the age when the witch was the doctor and the inn was the pub and bar and the muddy creek was the swank swimming pool and the prostitutes well were the prostitutes- it’s the oldest profession you see-our story is set in.
In one of the many villages –villages were abound then- was a hill(of course what’s a village without a hill- remember “jack and Jill went up the hill”) and on the hill there was a cottage( and what’s a hill without a cottage) and around that cottage was a garden( there are gardens around ever cottage on a hill- didn’t you read any story or for that matter harry potter, remember his friend the weasel lives in a cottage and boy they have a large garden). In that house or should I say the cottage lived a monster (no monsters don’t usually live in cottages).
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So that monster that wasn’t a monster per se but since he was a child he had an unusual countenance and so was called monster by everyone. And since he lived alone he started to think that he really was a monster and started behaving like that. See this is how we ruin our children; they have an impressionable mind you see. But I digress.
That monster did what all the monsters usually do. He scared the shit out of anyone who ventured in the woods around his garden which was around his house or for that matter the cottage. And hence he lived on plying his monstrous trade.
And as with villages go there was a bully there in that village too. And as with bullies go he used to bully. And again as with bullies go he met his match. This match wasn’t a bimbo nymphet but one other bully who bullied the other bully into venturing into the monster lair.
The monster was sleeping when our brave, heroic, gallant and spunky (well euphemism for big scaredy cats ready to shit in their pants- we use euphemisms a lot you see) bullies entered the cottage with a garden around it lying on the top of the small hill. And while they were jumping the boundary wall a fly sat on the nose of the monster, and as it goes with monsters he swatted it, missed, hit his own face and woke up with an ouch that was mighty roar for the ears of the bully.
One of the bullies wet his pants and fainted- at this juncture I don’t think that we care which bully that was, the one who met his match or the one that was supposed to be the match- and the other started to cry. The monster that wasn’t a monster per se saw him and since he wasn’t a monster per se went out to console him.
Bully: "don’t eat me please."
Monster: "Why’d I eat you, I only eat vegetables and fruit and sometimes dirt too. I don’t eat ‘humans’. I am a vegetarian, a ‘v-e-g-e-t-a-r-i-a-n’. Now come to me and let me console you."
The bully caring not to make any sound with his feet, caring not to breathe loudly, cursing the vile wind that was spreading his vile bodily smell, albeit silently, approached the monster( who was welcoming with his arms spread),closing on the bully opened his mouth, picked up the monster, chewed him to pieces and swallowed him whole and merrily went back to his home.
Adios...
PS:
This post is a satirical take on our habit of typecasting anyone and everyone. For us anyone with a bad habit is a bad person. While all those who are don't indulge in any vices are inherently good. However in actuality this is not always the case. More often than not a seemingly normal person is the one who is a monster.
PPS:
The word monster is used in a broad sense.
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