Gaston's been my best buddy since we were kids, but even though he's the smartest, manliest guy I know, there are still some things even I know that he doesn't. First of all, Belle's not interested in him. She wouldn't marry him if her life depended on it.
If you think about it, what's so special about Belle? I mean, there are three blonde girls who worship the ground Gaston walks on. Just like the kind of woman he wants! It's not like they're too ugly for him either. They're gorgeous. He could marry any one of them, and they'd be too happy to serve him and make him feel like a king every minute of every day. What's wrong with leaving Belle for someone else and marrying one of the blondes instead?
Another thing Gaston doesn't understand is that the woods are dark and spooky. There are bugs and spiders there, but I can step on them…unless one crawls on my arm; then I have to hit it instead of step on it. There are wild animals, but Gaston shoots them.
But how do you get rid of an evil spirit? There was a witch or something that killed half the royal family about ten years ago…or something like that. I have trouble remembering. I bet there are creepy ghosts and evil trolls and stuff too.
This guy named Marcel heard that no one shoots like Gaston, so he called him over to his farm. Gaston doesn't like to waste time on "petty complaints," but Marcel offered him a bag of gold. That'll buy a lot of beer.
"My farm is plagued by a wolf," Marcel said. "I suspect this is no ordinary animal. I've shot it twice: once with an arrow and once with a bullet. I've set traps with poisoned meat and spent most of my money raising wolfhounds, all to no avail. The creature preys on my livestock, and not the sick and the weak. It takes the strongest, healthiest creature. If you are half the hunter you claim to be, kill this wolf and end my torment."
"Never fear," Gaston said back. "We'll have this creature's head by morning!"
That night we waited in the field, but nothing showed up. Gaston told Marcel us being in the field had scared the wolf, and it wouldn't be back for a week because it would catch human scent. Marcel tried to argue, but Gaston ignored him.
The next night, the wolf carried off a pie that Madame Marcel had left sitting in the window. Gaston said don't be ridiculous. Everyone knows wolves don't eat pie. Marcel asked how do you explain the wolf tracks leading up to the window. He was real mad.
"You either kill this animal or give back my gold!" he said.
Me and Gaston went to the woods. We looked all day and didn't see anything. Gaston finally said it was time for lunch, so we sat down and ate a picnic. After a bit, we heard a gunshot.
"Other hunters are in the woods!" Gaston said.
But when he looked, his gun wasn't where he put it. He looked all over, but he still couldn't find his gun.
"Maybe it ain't wolves," I said. "Maybe there's a guy with a pet wolf. Maybe that's why some of the stuff that gets done is what a person would do instead of what an animal would do."
Gaston thought a moment and said, "Maybe you're right, Lefou."
When we went back to Marcel's house, he was madder. He pointed to his cows and yelled real loud.
"Does this look like a wolf to you?!" he said. "You shot my prize calf!"
Gaston said, "Someone stole my gun! And do you think a great hunter like Gaston doesn't know a wolf from a calf?!"
Marcel said, "Give back my gold!"
Gaston said, "I haven't given up yet! I told you I'd help you, and I will!"
We found the gun a couple of days later in the woods. All the bullets had been used. The place where we had our campfire had a lot of bones laying around, like cow bones, but a lot smaller. We also found a pie dish.
"I'm afraid this is the work of evil spirits, Lefou," Gaston said. "The woods are full of them."
I nodded and said, "Can we go home?!"
Gaston said no, we had to think of a way to save our faces, whatever that means.
So now we're sitting in the middle of the woods, trying to think how to tell Marcel that the thing killing his livestock is an evil spirit and not a wolf. I must be getting real tired cause it seems like I can hear someone singing in the distance:
No one's dumb as Gaston
Twiddles thumbs like Gaston
No one finds the wrong key when he hums like Gaston
Yet each night the jerk makes up a chorus
More on the nights he has beer
We should kill him to protect our forest
But he's the most entertainment I've had all year
What a joke is Gaston!
What a hoax is Gaston!
Who by thinking can make their brains smoke like Gaston's?
But he brings Marcel's meat, and I'm salivating!
My, what a guy is Gaston!