Friday, April 20, 2012

The Tale of Haggis the Goat pt 7 of 37.

     Everyone looked at Hippie Guitar Man. He had never spoken a sentence without his usual hippie drawl and prefacing it with "Hey man," yet just now, he had spoken a perfectly normal, almost sophisticated sentence. A perfectly normal, almost sophisticated sentence oozing with mystery, that is.
      "What... What do you mean, he's quite right?" Steve asked. "He can't be right, he's just a lowly paranoid assistant who believes in haggises and drop-bears."
     "Well you see," said Hippie Guitar Man, raising his eyebrow, "As a child, my parents took me with them on their travels. We went all over the world, from the epitomes of wealth and class, such as Paris; Tokyo; Walker County, Alabama; and London; but we also went to the depths of poverty in India and Africa. They were rich, too rich for my blood, so I left when I realized they were all part of the System. But before I realized that their conformity to the status quo was influencing me, they took me to a magical place called 'Scotland.'
     "There, I enjoyed myself. Ate many wonderful delicacies, including... haggis. At first I didn't believe when they told me about the haggis. They said it was made out of haggis. I assumed it was made out of sheep guts like all their food is. But eventually I agreed to go on a Haggis Hunt with them the next morning.
     "I lay down for the night, dreaming of capturing a wild haggis the next day, when I heard a scream. I ran outside looking for the source of the yell, and what I saw shocked me. The entire village was in flames; people were running, terrified, into the forest. 'IT'S THE GREAT HAGGIS!' a large man yelled at me as he ran past, the hair on his head singed.
      Suddenly, I saw the beast. Black as night, towering in the air, it turned its head to me, its eyes glowed red with malice as it glared at me."
     Hippie Guitar Man shuddered. "After that, I don't remember what happened. I- I just blacked out. The next morning I woke up in the hospital in the next town. As soon as I was released, me and my parents flew back to the U.S.
    "Soon after that, my eyes were opened to The System, and I began to fight it. But I couldn't fight it with my parents' money. It was a battle I had to fight alone. So I took to the streets, sleeping on park benches, anywhere I could. But whenever I went to sleep, I could never forget... the haggis. I would dream about it every night.
     "Eventually I picked up the guitar. From the first moment I saw it, I felt a special connection to it. Ever since I got it, the nightmares went away."
     They stared in awe at Hippie Guitar Man. "I had no idea." said The Ridiculously White Man with the Handlebar mustache.
      Staven patted Hippie Guitar Man on the back. "I know that feel, bro. I know that feel. We're going to find this haggis... and bring it down."
     Hippie Guitar Man put a carrot in his nose and smiled. "Let's riggidy roll."

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