Each Night (Sir Eduardo the Magnificent Otter)
Each night is an opportunity to write something truly transcendent. Something with power and fury and purpose--a trumpet of words in the dark.
...
But who says opportunities must always be seized? Hmm?
And so if I feel like writing about a magnificent river otter named Sir Eduardo the Magnificent, who among you can possibly stop me?
That's what I thought.
Sir Eduardo the Magnificent River Otter was indeed a magnificent otter. Probably the otter by which all other otters shall be judged.
Sometimes children fall through treacherous river ice. And then often Sir Eduardo is there--nuzzling them with his velvety nose so they won't be so scared. And then he drags the limp child to the riverbank and grimly fights off all the forest weasels that have come from the forest to feed.
"Betrayer of animals!" This is one of the many nasty things the forest weasels hiss, because soggy children are their favorite dish. But Sir Eduardo the Magnificent Otter heeds not their scorn.
"Back I say!" Snarls Sir Eduardo the Magnificent Otter. "Not even a taste of this soggy child shall you taste today."
And the forest weasels say, "Aww, be a sport."
And Sir Eduardo says, "Nope!" And means it.
"Come on, just a nip?" The hungry forest weasels beg.
To which Sir Eduardo replies, "Grrr!"
"Please." The forest weasels cajole, “We’ll share her tender spleen with you.”
But Sir Eduardo simply says, “Grrr!!!” Even louder than before.
And then several of the forest weasels try to flank Sir Eduardo the Magnificent River Otter--thinking they'll tear him apart and then feed on the soggy child. But Sir Eduardo is too quick and too savage and strong, and he hurts those villainous forest weasels--hurts them bad.
And then the rest of the forest weasels run away and then the search and rescue humans show up and bundle the child in blankets and take all the credit for her salvation.
But Sir Eduardo knows, and the child knows, and the forest weasels know and now you do too.
And he’s a magnificent river otter, that Sir Eduardo.
And I'm so proud to call him my friend.
posted by Latigo Flint @ 1:18 AM
9 comments
9 Comments:
That's a great story. Could you write an-otter one?
Magnificent, Mister Flint.
It's like the "Watership Down" that the baddest schoolboy wished he was reading. It's like "The Wind In The Willows" with teeth and blood and hair.
Another triumph from the master. God bless that otter, sir, and God bless you! You're a bloomin' marvel, so you are.
What an otter!
Never mind trumpets. I'll take Sir Eduardo any day. He's less blatty and more heroic by far. I wish I had a plush toy of him to hug at night. I really do.
not a lot a ottahs hotter
whos the girl, already forgottah,
rescue humans, they can hav her
i'm off to drwon myself in a river
A most rousing tale of heroism, though I must admit had some river weasels offered me a share of liver the result of the story may have been very different...
Oh and does anyone else feel like throwing themselves into the nearest freezing river in the hopes that they will be saved by Eduardo? No, just me then.... see you on the news!
- Toledo
The forest weasels must realize after a certain point that the children will grow up to commit furry genocide by slash and burn in the forest, yes? They must just be suicidal.
We all deserve a pal as true as Sir Eduardo sweet Talulah. Perhaps you more than most. But not as much as me--my hollow and lonesome experiences make most people's seem positively cheery.
I just up and barfed on my keyboard LBB. And you don't normally have that effect on me. Anyway, please don't do that anymore.
(And plus, look what you made me do--I've never typed the word "barfed" before... Aw hell, and now I've done it twice in less than a minute.)
Sam, If Richard Adams knew how many times I've read his book he'd probably try to collect over-use royalties.
(I'm no kind of marvel though--I'm a drunk and a sadist and I'm going to die alone.)
You can say that again Hen!
In a perfect world, Ari, I'd sell, like, a million plush Sir Eduardo toys and donate some of the proceeds to RiverWatch or some similar otter-loving hippy group.
That's in a perfect world... in this one I'll probably just end up drinking myself to death and then future generations will grow up not even knowing who Sir Eduardo was.
Absolute perfection sweet Helga... well except that maybe "river" could have been "rivah". But other than that perfection.
They were forest weasels Toledo. Nonetheless, I'm very happy to hear that Sir Eduardo's exploits moved you. They certainly move me.
I do see your point Amandarama, but the forest weasels tried to eat the soggy child, so I don't quite follow. It's Sir Eduardo isn't it--with the death wish? Yes? Perhaps. Makes his actions no the less noble though. No the less noble. Never the less noble. Just like me you know?
A hero this epic. He needs a ballad.
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