Thursday, June 23, 2005

Squinty-Eye Gulch and the Dire Wolf

Okay, so Latigo Flint isn't one hundred percent certain that that was a Dire Wolf, the largest canine known to have ever existed, and thought to have been extinct since the late Pleistocene Epoch (Ice Age) but whatever it was, it sure bit harder than any goddamn dog Latigo Flint has ever seen.

Yesterday Latigo Flint was scouting around in the Tujunga Wash, a seasonal tributary of the majestic Los Angeles river, trying to find a good place to build his dream: Squinty-Eye Gulch, a Gunslinger themed amusement park and paintball range. (Everybody likes paintballing. Everybody wishes they could authentically roleplay/reenact famous old west gunfights. So it's only a matter of time before someone puts six and six together and makes a grip of money in the process. As it turns out that person is probably going to be Latigo Flint.)

But a serious setback was suffered yesterday when without warning that wretched Dire Wolf dashed down a small side canyon and bit off most of my thigh.

Naturally I was outraged. "Why you unholy, probably Pleistocenic, asshole!!!" I exclaimed as it disappeared back up the side canyon, a sizable portion of my quadriceps femoris dangling from either side of its massive jaws. "When I heal, you better dern well trust that I'll be coming back here to shoot you in your ugly snout just about four hundred times."

No real response from what may or may not have been a Dire Wolf (Canis dirus). For a moment I thought I heard the sticky chewing and gulping sound of that mangy Pleistocenic cur devouring most of my thigh. But I could have been mistaken. I was beginning to feel extremely woozy at that point.

I turned and stumbled toward the road, a quarter mile away, calling back over my shoulder as I departed. "And I don't care if you are some sort of evolutionary miracle, you dastardly dung sniffer, I'm building Squinty-Eye Gulch here dern it, and it's going to be an insurance nightmare if you keep scampering out and gobbling up a child or two every so often."

Some loose tendons made a slithering spluff-twang sound and my kneecap fell off and clattered down against the water-worn rocks at my feet. I ignored it and limped on with a rigid pride.

"And forget about the insurance risk for a second - you just bit off most of my thigh. Nothing, and I mean nothing, bites off most of my thigh and gets away with it. Not for very long anyway, so you can count on an upcoming demise you vile fiend that is most likely an amazing prehistoric holdover. I'll be seeing, and killing you, real soon now. No one's going to have to change any official classifications of 'Extinct' on your account, you filthy Canis dirus, probably!"

Obviously it couldn't understand the actual words, but I'm pretty sure it understood the tone.


What, you think Latigo Flint makes stuff up?!

13 Comments:

At 7:09 AM, Anonymous FallenRanger said...

With respect to the unhealty portion of thigh that went down the dire wolf's gullet, having such a beast around your amusement park makes a great incentive to keep children in line. Those darn bipedal noiseboxes are louder and more sickening than any ride I've been on.

Oh well, maybe it was female and has cubs. In which case, let justice be done.

 
At 10:59 AM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

Did it, by any chance, also get away with one of your prehistoric pearl-handled well-shucked six-shooters? You might wanna look down there and check. Put up a note on lost and found, I guess.

 
At 3:25 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Latigo Flint is both a legendary pistolsmith and well-researched in extinct mammals of the ice age.

You're a Renaissance Man.

 
At 3:26 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Oh, I also noticed you have command of human anatomy.

Bravo, sir.

 
At 6:23 PM, Blogger Dave Morris said...

I can empathize with your plight, LF. I used to have a wife that chewed my ass regularly - and let's face it, that's just a little further up the leg.

 
At 11:52 PM, Blogger Cad Grublygold said...

That wolf thing sounds an awful lot like the Grass Weasels we have in Merced, mabey they are related.

 
At 1:16 AM, Blogger Ari said...

Loved me some tar-pit visitin' last time I was in your fine state, Mr. Flint.

 
At 9:56 AM, Blogger Teaspoon said...

LF are you sure it wasn't a werewolf? maybe you are going to turn into a werewolf yourself now. That could be pretty cool, a werewolf gunslinger. I think that I have my next sketch idea, will try to post it next week.

 
At 10:28 AM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

I wonder how many victims the dire wolf has claimed over its epic run as a carnivorous species. No doubt you just faced the same menace as many a gunslinger from days of yore.

You handled yourself with nobility, but you are bound by honor to hunt, kill, and eat that beast, Latigo. I have faith you'll succeed.

Stuff and mount his head at the amusement park. I think it would make a great decoration in the buffalo burger joint sandwiched between the stampede simulator and the lasso toss.

 
At 10:59 AM, Blogger Benjamin Franklin Gates said...

Go on http://nappyegg.blogspot.com/.

 
At 1:12 AM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Good evening Fallenranger. I like your name very much by the way. The only problem with your suggestion is that if I know Dire Wolves as well as I think I do, it would be just as likely to devour a quiet, well mannered child as it would a noisy, out of control, irritating one... perhaps even more so the placid child, believing it to be a weak and easy target.

Howdy Old Hoss. My twin Colts lay snug against my very inner thighs. (For complicated quickdraw reasons I'd rather not divulge.) Thus my irons were spared its bone crushing jaws.

Your words are most kind LBB... in fact, too kind, for in truth the Google can make any appear so learned. I must therefore stand humble before your praise. (Wait a minute - please forget I just said that -- Actually my mind rivals most reference libraries, and what the fuck is a Google?)

I notice you said "used to have" Dave. Did you wait to heal and then shoot her just about four hundred times in her snout?

Ahh yes Grublygold - would that be the Great Crested Grass Weasel. I believe I have read your academic papers on this beast. Yes, there are in fact strong similarities, are there not?

Indeed Ari, Rancho La Brea is a magnificent sight. You know, when the wind is just right, residents of Beverly Hills may catch a whiff of long dead mastodon.

Quite sure TSP. I am nonetheless very eager to se your artistic visualization of me as werewolf. (Perhaps a bit too eager - I've masturbated in front of my full-length mirror eight times in the last half hour.)

Thank you Steve. Your faith gives me strength. I shall most certainly slay and devour the wretched Dire Wolf. Now that you mention it, he probably will be rather tasty; perhaps second only to cougar. (The old mountain men actually regarded cougar meat as the most delectable of all the critters. I know this because it comes up in just about every other Louis L'Amour novel.)

Okay seriously now BenFG, don't ever tell Latigo Flint what to do. I think asking politely may be a better policy.

 
At 10:38 AM, Anonymous FallenRanger said...

Nuts! I hadn't even considered the notion that a quiet, placid, innocent child exits. Good point though.

You like my name! I'm all a quiver.

 
At 3:22 PM, Blogger Blog ho said...

a shame there weren't any hotties around.

 

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