The Life and Times of Fudge - Mountain Getaway Part II

The Life and Times of Fudge

Mountain Getaway

Part I

Written by Randy Sherrill

Nearing the top of the climb, Uncle said, “Goodbye! Have fun, and we will see you on Sunday.” (This was Friday.)

Onward we went, and now Gabe was first, then Greg, and I was last. Our adventure on the mountain was just beginning. Gabe was now the man in charge. He got his coon skinned hat out, and he even brought his shotgun with him. Even his uncle said that was smart as it may not be safe without one up here. Great encouragement for me and Greg, yeah right!

Anyway, Gabe in charge let his imagination take over. Gun in hand, he now said he was “Daniel Boone.” He called Greg “Tonto,” and I was still just “Fudge.” But as Greg and I just watched Gabe, we could tell he was really getting into character. We didn’t have the heart to tell him that Tonto was with the Lone Ranger not Daniel Boone. We got some good laughs, but we played along.

Now he ordered Tonto (Greg) around to scout out the area. Greg answered in a Tonto voice, “Me don’t know place, you do.”

As we crossed over a barbed-wire fence, ole Daniel Boone (Gabe) with gun in hand got tangled up in the wire and fell face-first with the gun flying out of his hand, hitting the ground. Tonto (Greg) in character looked back at me, laughing really hard, saying, “Good thing gun not loaded. Sure foot could’ve killed us.” It was one of the moments you just had to be a part of to see how funny it really was.

But Daniel (Gabe) jumped to his feet, retrieving his gun, looking at us saying, “Booby trap.”

We busted out laughing at him, but he, not missing a beat, ordered us to be quiet. “There’s a war party out there.”

So we played along as we crawled on our bellies for a while. Then Tonto (Greg) stood up and said, “All clean!”

We were tired of crawling in the woods so we got up and started walking again, all the while Greg and I could not stop laughing. You know those times when you just can’t stop? You just look at each other, and you start laughing again? Yeah, that was me and Greg. And Gabe was first mad at us but began to laugh as well. Great time, great memory.

It was just then that I farted loudly, and Tonto (Greg) said, “Hear that cannon fire? Let’s move!”

The smell was the same and was coming back to me. I could feel it! Our pace picked up, and soon ole Daniel (Gabe) got us to the other side. But the Bull of the Woods juice I had swallowed was doing its work in me.

We never saw the war party but did come down the other side to the cabin. Man, it was cool. It was a very large one-room cabin with a half wall in the middle to separate the kitchen and the bed. One queen-sized bed where all three of us were to sleep. No electricity though just gas stove burners to cook, but we did not bring food. All we had was chips and drinks. We also did not bring sleeping bags, big mistake! We thought we were prepared but really had no clue. Really pathetic.

The outhouse was fifty yards down the hill from the cabin, not good as it would turn out. Covers and sheets were on the bed thanks to Gabe's aunt. The cabin had a nice back porch which was the length of the cabin, overlooking the river about one hundred yards away. Pretty much straight down. Three poles held the extended roof over the porch, which I would become quite acquainted to two of those later on. And there was a nice old rocking chair that seated very comfortably.

We did have flashlights, and a lantern was inside the cabin so we did have some light. By now it was dark outside, and we were all tired. It was only 9:00 at night, but we were ready for sleep. The bed was against the far wall as we got in. Gabe got in first against the wall. I was once again in the middle which was to become another mistake. Greg was on the other side closest to the kitchen side of the cabin. After some idle chit chat, we got quiet to go to sleep.

Bull of the Woods returned in vengeance! The juice I swallowed triggered my gut again. We were under the covers, and I blasted a fart. It was one of those that you could not tell if it was just gas or some solid came out. I just had to raise the covers to check, and then it hit, all of us! That smell once more! Both Gabe and Greg started cursing and covering their noses and burying their heads in the pillows.

To my great relief, it was just gas at this time, but it was beginning again as the farts kept coming. Until I knew it was time...that just gas was no longer going to happen. We were all three back in the bed when I shouted, “I have to go!”

It was dark, but Greg jumped up to let me out. Meanwhile, I was saying, “Where do I go?!”

Gabe said, “Down the hill is the outhouse!”

I said, “No way am I going to make it down there!”

“There is a steel old bedpan somewhere in the kitchen. Use it!”

I fumbled around with the flashlight until I found it. Holding on no longer, I tried to sit on the pan, while on the floor. The blast came again, but I missed the pan. Gabe and Greg, away from me and the smell, started laughing and did not come to help. I wouldn’t have either, but I did manage to wipe it all up. Once again, it was Hershey crap, kind of like whipped cream. I did not have gloves, only paper towels.

At this time, Gabe and Greg were in panic mode. The whole cabin now had the smell. It was bad because the solid smelled worse than the gas. I now had the runs that would run until midnight. We all jumped out of bed every time because they did not want to get pooped on, and I did not want it on myself.

The stench got worse. It seemed to be everywhere. Gabe and Greg, I think, even prayed to God as they wondered why they deserved this. The funniest crap I had was about 10:30pm. I jumped out of bed - or more like we all did - I threw off my underwear (buck naked), ran out on the back porch, grabbed a pole, and swung my naked body off the porch while my feet remained on the porch. I let it go anywhere and everywhere. My butt blasted away, but while doing my “full moon” showing, a truck on the road on the other side of the river came around the bend. They were shooting shotguns or maybe rifles in the air. Talk about really getting the shit scared of me!

I could see my ass getting all shot up, but to top it off, Gabe comes running out on the porch in his underwear with gun in hand and starts shooting back in the air. This was right over me (I was on the middle pole this particular time), and his shells were ejecting and hitting me!

Gabe and Greg were hooting and hollering and still shooting over me. This was one of those times all shit was busting loose. Man, after this was over and we were not dead, it was the funniest thing to ever happen. You could not think this stuff up! I’m glad I didn’t get my ass shot off as I was already shooting it off!

The shooting stopped thankfully, but my moon shining, pole hanging, Hershey crapping did not. I could no longer tell if it was gas or solid! As I was pole hanging, Gabe and Greg stood guard over me on the porch.

Like I said, this went on until well after midnight. We finally got some sleep with no more crap or gas, but my butt was worn out.

We woke up late in the morning (on Saturday), and as we walked out on the back porch, the smell hit us again! Even the tree leaves below were not green but a brown Hershey color. It was bad! So bad that Greg was just walking around holding his nose, and Gabe said, “We’re done. Pack up because we’re going home.”

I was wearing brown underwear where the smell lingered all the way back. I asked both of them if they wanted Wendy’s. Both said they would never have it again with me!

This true story gets funnier with time. In all my years since then I’ve only replicated this kind of BM only three or four times, and I’m in my sixties now. So here’s to Wendy’s Frostys and Hershey kisses, and the tale of my moon shining, pole hanging, crap tale.

The end!

-Fudge