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Shooting Beaver: Unladylike?
My sister in law (I have never bothered to remember her name) and her husband Zebedee, to my dismay, arrived at the Hammer compound unannounced and uninvited today, presumably to freeload for the weekend, and to stuff their and their 12 childrens' gullets with a fine Thanksgiving meal that they have no entitlement to.
Anyhow, in a pathetic attempt to pacify my wrath, old whats-her-name presented me with a foul-looking beaver that stank strongly of the beach at low tide. Zebedee, she claimed, had taxidermied the evil thing himself...but she took full credit for shooting the beaver.
I bent in to get a closer look at the beaver, taking shallow breaths through my mouth so as to minimize the impact of the vile odor wafting up from it.
It's eyes were a pale milky blue, and they protruded from the sockets as if under massive pressure, threatening to burst. The mouth was agape, it's vicious incisors held firmly apart by the death-bloat of it's tongue...and it seemed to move, almost imperceptibly, but surely....as if a legion of maggots roiled about within...
Disgustedly, I withdrew my face from the beaver. I glared at her. "Did Zeb even bother to remove the guts?", I interrogated.
Her response was the vacant, confused look common to all women.
But getting back to the point: I am wondering if I should council Zeb to strike his wife multiple times for this offence. The woman is not entirely responsible for the wretched state of her grizzled beaver, that is Zeb's cross to bear...I am more concerned that she had the cheek to shoot that beaver in the first place!
Don't get me wrong, beavers need to be dominated and subdued just as badly as any other arrogant, feral beast, but when a lowly women takes it upon herself to do the deed, is it not an ursurption of Man's authority?
Anyhow, in a pathetic attempt to pacify my wrath, old whats-her-name presented me with a foul-looking beaver that stank strongly of the beach at low tide. Zebedee, she claimed, had taxidermied the evil thing himself...but she took full credit for shooting the beaver.
I bent in to get a closer look at the beaver, taking shallow breaths through my mouth so as to minimize the impact of the vile odor wafting up from it.
It's eyes were a pale milky blue, and they protruded from the sockets as if under massive pressure, threatening to burst. The mouth was agape, it's vicious incisors held firmly apart by the death-bloat of it's tongue...and it seemed to move, almost imperceptibly, but surely....as if a legion of maggots roiled about within...
Disgustedly, I withdrew my face from the beaver. I glared at her. "Did Zeb even bother to remove the guts?", I interrogated.
Her response was the vacant, confused look common to all women.
But getting back to the point: I am wondering if I should council Zeb to strike his wife multiple times for this offence. The woman is not entirely responsible for the wretched state of her grizzled beaver, that is Zeb's cross to bear...I am more concerned that she had the cheek to shoot that beaver in the first place!
Don't get me wrong, beavers need to be dominated and subdued just as badly as any other arrogant, feral beast, but when a lowly women takes it upon herself to do the deed, is it not an ursurption of Man's authority?
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