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Retro computing and gaming, sci-fi books, tv and movies and other geeky stuff.MiSTed: The Tale of Fatty Raccoon, Chapter XVIII (1 / 1)
https://www.megalextoria.com/forum2/index.php?t=rview&goto=406173&th=110736#msg_406173
> XVIII
>
> THE LOGGERS COME
MIKE: Episode 18 ... I don't know, the Star Wars movies aren't doing it for me anymore.
>
> Fatty Raccoon was frightened;
CROW: By what? Everyone in the forest mocking him, Jimmy Rabbit shaving him, or Farmer Green's son trapping him?
> he had just waked up and he heard a
> sound
TOM: 'Waked up'?
> that was exactly like the noise Farmer Green and his hired man
> had made when they cut down the tall chestnut tree where he was
> perched.
MIKE: Major breakthrough in the tree-falling-in-a-forest problem.
>
> "Oh, Mother! What is it?" he cried.
CROW: 'Oh, Mother!'? Is Fatty dressed in a Lord Fauntleroy costume?
>
> "The loggers have come," Mrs. Raccoon said.
MIKE: Yup, this year's got brood-X cicadas and brood-IV loggers.
> "They are cutting
> down all the big trees in the swamp."
TOM: The final week of _Pogo_.
>
> "Then we'll have to move, won't we?" Fatty asked.
CROW: Picturing Fatty's family tromping off somewhere with a bunch of bindles.
TOM: Oh so cute!
>
> "No! They won't touch this tree," his mother told him.
MIKE: 'They signed my quitclaim deed, the fools!'
> "It's
> an old tree, and hollow---so they won't chop it down. It's only the good
> sound trees that they'll take."
CROW: Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
>
> "But I thought this was a good tree." Fatty was puzzled.
TOM: Fatty about to learn his home is actually on the wrong side of the deer tracks.
>
> "So it is, my son! It's a good tree for us.
CROW: Wallpaper peeling off.
MIKE: Cabinet falling loose in the pantry.
TOM: Raccoon infestation ... wait, wait.
> But not for the
> loggers. They would have little use for it."
CROW: But what if the loggers are just jerks?
>
> Fatty Raccoon felt better when he heard that.
MIKE: Just to be sure, Mom hires a spider to write out 'SOME RACC' in the branches.
> And he had a good
> deal of fun, peeping down at the loggers and watching them work.
TOM: Joking around with that Robin Williams Bat and watching the loggers summon that liquid ooze monster.
> But
> he took care that they should not see HIM. He knew what their bright
> axes could do.
CROW: They could curl his moustache!
>
> When night came Fatty had still more fun.
MIKE: More fun than watching loggers? Sure you can handle that, Fatty?
> When the loggers
> were asleep Fatty went to their camp in the woods beside the brook and
> he found many good things to eat.
TOM: Ah, playing his hits. Nice.
> He did not know the names of all the
> goodies;
CROW: 'My name's *Jimmy*!'
MIKE: 'Yeah, and I remember your barber shop!
> but he ate them just the same. He 'specially liked some
> potatoes which the careless cook had left in a pan near the open
> camp-fire.
TOM: Potatoes au gratin? In only fifteen minutes!
> The fire was out.
MIKE: It had errands in town but if you want to wait, I'll let you know when the fire gets back in.
> And the pan rested on a stump close
> beside it. Fatty Raccoon climbed up and crawled right inside the pan.
CROW: [ As Fatty ] 'FOUND ANOTHER THE MOON!'
> And
> after he had had one taste of those potatoes he grew so excited---they
> were so good---
TOM: They weren't *that* good. They were only *so* good.
> that he tipped the pan off the stump and the potatoes
> rolled right into the ashes.
MIKE: Oh no, the potatoes are getting dirt on them!
>
> Fatty had jumped to one side, when the tin pan fell.
CROW: [ muttering ] Tin pan ... alley ... all ... eat?
TOM: Needs work.
[ CROW grunts, agreeing ]
> It made a
> great clatter;
MIKE: Quick, rush to the window and see what's the matter!
> and he kept very still for a few moments, while he
> listened. But no one stirred.
CROW: Not even a mouse.
> And then Fatty jumped plump into the
> ashes.
TOM: Hey, Fatty wins a cricket tournament.
>
> WHEW! He jumped out again as fast as he could; for beneath the
> ashes there were plenty of hot coals.
MIKE: It's 'hot' as in 'spicy'. Don't be a food wimp.
> Fatty stood in them for not more
> than three seconds, but that was quite long enough.
TOM: Don't want to over-braise your raccoons.
MIKE: That's ... not braising.
> The bottoms of his
> feet burned as if a hundred hornets had stung them.
TOM: Is it parboiling?
MIKE: No, not even remotely.
>
TOM: Sous-vide?
MIKE: I'm not letting you cook anymore.
> He stood first on one foot and then on another.
CROW: And still had two feet to go!
> If you could
> have seen him you would have thought Fatty was dancing.
MIKE: It'd be a cakewalk if someone brought some cake.
> And you might
> have laughed, because he looked funny.
TOM: [ As Fatty ] 'Hey, I'm in actual pain here! Also I need potatoes.'
>
> But Fatty Raccoon did not laugh. In fact, he came very near
> crying.
MIKE: Jeez. This book was fun back when it was Fatty eating sweet corn.
CROW: Tom Batiuk wrote the back half.
> And he did not wait to eat another mouthful. He limped along
> toward home.
CROW: Loggers wake up to this scene and figure, job well done.
> And it was several days before he stirred out of his
> mother's house again. He just lay in his bed and waited until his
> burns were well again.
TOM: Mom writes a note to keep him home from Raccoon School.
>
> It was very hard.
CROW: I don't know, I wouldn't mind if I had never stirred from bed since 2015.
> For Fatty did not like to think of all those
> good things to eat that he was missing.
TOM: Like ... sausage and Duraflame logs.
> And he hoped the loggers would
> not go away before his feet were well again.
MIKE: And before he gets his new tongue installed.
TOM: It's wireless!