Kitty Chapter 2
After collecting their gear and Starsky, having changed out of his ruined cloths and into his spare set, sadly burned the now formally favorite shirt and blue jeans. The pair proceeded to trek out of the woods to Hutch's LTD. In the now pitch darkness of the mountain woods.
"Whew! Could you stay back a few more feet?"
"No! I 'an't 'ee 'othin', 'ou got the light" Starsky bit out. "Eyes are s'ill 'earing up, 'am 'it!" He hated talking with his nose all clogged up. Made him sound stupid. He rubbed at his eyes, they were weeping worse then any time that he cut onions. Hutch had said that that would go away. 'When dammit?!' That's all Starsky wanted to know.
"Oh, yeah. Heh, heh, yeah, I have the flashlight. Sorry" Hutch apologized. 'Oops. He's still mad. Geez, he really reeks!' Hutch's mind was going. How was he going to get Starsky home? Tie him to the top of the LTD? The skunk's musk had gone straight through Starsky's cloths and permeated his skin and hair. Skunk musk is very difficult to get rid of. 'I wonder if that thing about tomato soup really works? Who would you call to ask? Forest ranger? Vet?'
"OUCH!"
"What?"
"I sad 'OUCH' 'nod 'Utch, 'Ammit" Starsky sniffled and reached down to rub a now sore shin bone. "I 'ust tripped ober an'ther 'og" Shid!" The woods seemed to dislike Starsky and much as he disliked it. What, with bears and rattlesnakes and now skunks, the woods were out to get him. Only Hutch, damn him, could have EVER have talked him into returning. Never again though. This was his absolute LAST camping trip. Hutch or no Hutch. Period. Exclamation point. He would personally make Hutch as miserable has he was right now to insure that fact.
"Well, are you ok?" 'Damn! Why did I ask him that! Now he's gonna...'
"S'all 'our 'ault!" Starsky snapped, winding up for a tantrum of epic and (he knew) childish proportions. He kicked the poor defenseless log that he had just barked his shin on. "OUCH!" Now his toes hurt! "Arrguhhhh!" He hopped a couple steps and shook it off.
'Yep, I knew it'. "My fault! How is your being sprayed by a SKUNK that YOU thought was a CAT my FAULT?!" Hutch was getting more then a little tired of this one track conversation.
"'OU 'alked 'ee inta 'amping!" Starsky dabbed at his streaming eyes "AGAIN! 'Ow much furder ta the 'ar?"
Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn't think he could take much more of the Starsky version of 'Are-We-There-Yet?' "Just about a mile." 'Oh, God! Just kill me. I can not take another mile of this! Lightning! Yeah, God, just hit me with lightning! Or else I'm gonna have to use my gun! It's him or me, God!' Hutch prayed silently.
Poor Hutch. Sometimes God listens to un-meant prayers and he has a wicked sense of humor, called hubris. Thunder rolled and clouds began to sweep the skies.
Hutch heard the thunder and felt a migraine coming on. If there was one thing worse smelling then skunk, it was WET skunk. Wet Starsky Skunk. DAMN. 'I didn't mean it, God, honest! I take it back!'
Thunder rolled. God's laughter?
"'Utch! It's gonna rain!" Could this trip get any WORSE?
"Way to state the obvious, Gordo!"
"'Utch, 'ow buch ferder?"
'God... Uh, never mind' "Hey! Look Starsk! The parking lot, dead ahead!" 'Thank you God!' No rain yet! Almost to the car! He broke into a jog. Hutch glanced pleadingly at the sky. Hutch wasn't normally religious, but this was getting just a little too weird.
"Yippy!" Starsky was never happier as he trotted to catch up to his partner and the comfort that the LTD offered. Back to civilization! Yeah!
The rain came down in sheets. Within a few strides, they were both soaked to the skin.
"Awww, man!" Hutch's head dropped to his chest and he stopped jogging and simply walked back to the LTD, defeated.
Starsky walked along side Hutch and pointed at his friend's down turned face, "Dis id an'ther fine 'ess 'ou gotten 'ee into!" And so saying, trotted the rest of the way to the car. He hopped up on the hood with a wicked smile and watched his demoralized friend drag himself the rest of the way to the car.
Hutch ambled up to the car. The rain stopped. He dropped his head and slowly shook it back and forth. Sometimes you just have to wonder about coincidences like that. Retrieving the keys he opened the passenger door for Starsky, who flashed him a grin and threw his backpack into the back seat and plopped himself down in the car. Hutch sighed and opened the trunk and threw the rest of the gear into a haphazard pile. He opened the driver's side and a familiar blare of car horn echoed through the parking lot. He slammed the door shut, cutting off the sound. The car windows were shut. Starsky's new scent was immediately and noticeably overwhelming. They looked at each other and rolled the windows down in record time.
Hutch pulled out of the lot and both men had their heads out side of the car, like a pair of dogs trying to catch all the forest smells. Or, in this case, any scent but Starsky's.
"I should tie you to the roof, Starsk, old buddy"
"Yeah, 'bud 'den 'ou wodn't 'ab 'ee 'o 'alk 'o" Starsky grinned at him. "It's gonna be 'ours be 'or 'ee get 'ome. 'Ou wod get 'only wid 'oud 'ee'"
"Stuff it!"
Starsky just smiled wider and enjoyed the fresh air. Until the rain started. Again. "'Ammit!" Starsky rolled his window up to nearly the top; he then craned his head up and stuck his nose outside as best he could.
Hutch merely gripped the steering wheel harder and resolutely left his window down. Sure, his car would get wet inside, but it beat passing out from the stench. He started watching for a town. He would get his partner a motel room and as much tomato soup, or sauce, or whatever it took to get rid of that smell. He was determined.
It was late by now. Hutch had forgotten that small towns tended to pretty much close down by 10 p.m., it was now 11:30 p.m.. They had passed through several small towns trying to find one that had an open grocery store AND a motel. How hard should that have been? Very hard, as it turns out. Hutch was close to just settling for a motel – with separate rooms, he was NOT going to spend any more time in the same vicinity as his poor stinky friend if he could help it. Hutch pulled into yet one more gas station to ask if THIS town had both store and motel, but he would settle for motel. He steeled himself for the looks he would get. His clothing was still wet, damn intermit rain! And he was beginning to suspect that he now smelled too.
The farm boy in him remembered "The Barn Effect". The Barn Effect is simply that it doesn't matter how brief a time you enter and exit a barn, you are going to smell like whatever is kept in that barn. It doesn't matter if you just showered and your cloths are clean. You go into a barn for just a SECOND, and you come out stinking to high heaven. It gets into your cloths and hair. So, it stood to reason, being in a car with his best stinky buddy, his friend, giving man that Starsk is, had gifted him with skunk musk. Ode de la Peppy Le Phew. 'Dammit all!'
"Hey pal!" He hollered to the sleepy gas station attendant as he tapped on the glass.
Red rimmed eyes rolled in the direction of the taps on the glass. The attendant raised his head to look at the man doing the tapping. A tall, blond man, soaked to the skin, kinda un-kept (messy hair and rumpled cloths) and driving a piece-o-crap LTD. That's how he would describe it to police some time later. Oh, and don't forget the skunk smell. I mean, who could forget that? Whew! Nasty!
After collecting their gear and Starsky, having changed out of his ruined cloths and into his spare set, sadly burned the now formally favorite shirt and blue jeans. The pair proceeded to trek out of the woods to Hutch's LTD. In the now pitch darkness of the mountain woods.
"Whew! Could you stay back a few more feet?"
"No! I 'an't 'ee 'othin', 'ou got the light" Starsky bit out. "Eyes are s'ill 'earing up, 'am 'it!" He hated talking with his nose all clogged up. Made him sound stupid. He rubbed at his eyes, they were weeping worse then any time that he cut onions. Hutch had said that that would go away. 'When dammit?!' That's all Starsky wanted to know.
"Oh, yeah. Heh, heh, yeah, I have the flashlight. Sorry" Hutch apologized. 'Oops. He's still mad. Geez, he really reeks!' Hutch's mind was going. How was he going to get Starsky home? Tie him to the top of the LTD? The skunk's musk had gone straight through Starsky's cloths and permeated his skin and hair. Skunk musk is very difficult to get rid of. 'I wonder if that thing about tomato soup really works? Who would you call to ask? Forest ranger? Vet?'
"OUCH!"
"What?"
"I sad 'OUCH' 'nod 'Utch, 'Ammit" Starsky sniffled and reached down to rub a now sore shin bone. "I 'ust tripped ober an'ther 'og" Shid!" The woods seemed to dislike Starsky and much as he disliked it. What, with bears and rattlesnakes and now skunks, the woods were out to get him. Only Hutch, damn him, could have EVER have talked him into returning. Never again though. This was his absolute LAST camping trip. Hutch or no Hutch. Period. Exclamation point. He would personally make Hutch as miserable has he was right now to insure that fact.
"Well, are you ok?" 'Damn! Why did I ask him that! Now he's gonna...'
"S'all 'our 'ault!" Starsky snapped, winding up for a tantrum of epic and (he knew) childish proportions. He kicked the poor defenseless log that he had just barked his shin on. "OUCH!" Now his toes hurt! "Arrguhhhh!" He hopped a couple steps and shook it off.
'Yep, I knew it'. "My fault! How is your being sprayed by a SKUNK that YOU thought was a CAT my FAULT?!" Hutch was getting more then a little tired of this one track conversation.
"'OU 'alked 'ee inta 'amping!" Starsky dabbed at his streaming eyes "AGAIN! 'Ow much furder ta the 'ar?"
Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn't think he could take much more of the Starsky version of 'Are-We-There-Yet?' "Just about a mile." 'Oh, God! Just kill me. I can not take another mile of this! Lightning! Yeah, God, just hit me with lightning! Or else I'm gonna have to use my gun! It's him or me, God!' Hutch prayed silently.
Poor Hutch. Sometimes God listens to un-meant prayers and he has a wicked sense of humor, called hubris. Thunder rolled and clouds began to sweep the skies.
Hutch heard the thunder and felt a migraine coming on. If there was one thing worse smelling then skunk, it was WET skunk. Wet Starsky Skunk. DAMN. 'I didn't mean it, God, honest! I take it back!'
Thunder rolled. God's laughter?
"'Utch! It's gonna rain!" Could this trip get any WORSE?
"Way to state the obvious, Gordo!"
"'Utch, 'ow buch ferder?"
'God... Uh, never mind' "Hey! Look Starsk! The parking lot, dead ahead!" 'Thank you God!' No rain yet! Almost to the car! He broke into a jog. Hutch glanced pleadingly at the sky. Hutch wasn't normally religious, but this was getting just a little too weird.
"Yippy!" Starsky was never happier as he trotted to catch up to his partner and the comfort that the LTD offered. Back to civilization! Yeah!
The rain came down in sheets. Within a few strides, they were both soaked to the skin.
"Awww, man!" Hutch's head dropped to his chest and he stopped jogging and simply walked back to the LTD, defeated.
Starsky walked along side Hutch and pointed at his friend's down turned face, "Dis id an'ther fine 'ess 'ou gotten 'ee into!" And so saying, trotted the rest of the way to the car. He hopped up on the hood with a wicked smile and watched his demoralized friend drag himself the rest of the way to the car.
Hutch ambled up to the car. The rain stopped. He dropped his head and slowly shook it back and forth. Sometimes you just have to wonder about coincidences like that. Retrieving the keys he opened the passenger door for Starsky, who flashed him a grin and threw his backpack into the back seat and plopped himself down in the car. Hutch sighed and opened the trunk and threw the rest of the gear into a haphazard pile. He opened the driver's side and a familiar blare of car horn echoed through the parking lot. He slammed the door shut, cutting off the sound. The car windows were shut. Starsky's new scent was immediately and noticeably overwhelming. They looked at each other and rolled the windows down in record time.
Hutch pulled out of the lot and both men had their heads out side of the car, like a pair of dogs trying to catch all the forest smells. Or, in this case, any scent but Starsky's.
"I should tie you to the roof, Starsk, old buddy"
"Yeah, 'bud 'den 'ou wodn't 'ab 'ee 'o 'alk 'o" Starsky grinned at him. "It's gonna be 'ours be 'or 'ee get 'ome. 'Ou wod get 'only wid 'oud 'ee'"
"Stuff it!"
Starsky just smiled wider and enjoyed the fresh air. Until the rain started. Again. "'Ammit!" Starsky rolled his window up to nearly the top; he then craned his head up and stuck his nose outside as best he could.
Hutch merely gripped the steering wheel harder and resolutely left his window down. Sure, his car would get wet inside, but it beat passing out from the stench. He started watching for a town. He would get his partner a motel room and as much tomato soup, or sauce, or whatever it took to get rid of that smell. He was determined.
It was late by now. Hutch had forgotten that small towns tended to pretty much close down by 10 p.m., it was now 11:30 p.m.. They had passed through several small towns trying to find one that had an open grocery store AND a motel. How hard should that have been? Very hard, as it turns out. Hutch was close to just settling for a motel – with separate rooms, he was NOT going to spend any more time in the same vicinity as his poor stinky friend if he could help it. Hutch pulled into yet one more gas station to ask if THIS town had both store and motel, but he would settle for motel. He steeled himself for the looks he would get. His clothing was still wet, damn intermit rain! And he was beginning to suspect that he now smelled too.
The farm boy in him remembered "The Barn Effect". The Barn Effect is simply that it doesn't matter how brief a time you enter and exit a barn, you are going to smell like whatever is kept in that barn. It doesn't matter if you just showered and your cloths are clean. You go into a barn for just a SECOND, and you come out stinking to high heaven. It gets into your cloths and hair. So, it stood to reason, being in a car with his best stinky buddy, his friend, giving man that Starsk is, had gifted him with skunk musk. Ode de la Peppy Le Phew. 'Dammit all!'
"Hey pal!" He hollered to the sleepy gas station attendant as he tapped on the glass.
Red rimmed eyes rolled in the direction of the taps on the glass. The attendant raised his head to look at the man doing the tapping. A tall, blond man, soaked to the skin, kinda un-kept (messy hair and rumpled cloths) and driving a piece-o-crap LTD. That's how he would describe it to police some time later. Oh, and don't forget the skunk smell. I mean, who could forget that? Whew! Nasty!