Her husband, Kip forgot the bug spray and they are 7 miles from their car. She is too exhausted to make it back to the car. Mosquitoes, the size of small Volkswagens, are swarming about her face and head, ready to drive her insane, or carry her off to their mosquito kingdom.
I tell her to calm down, channel her inner Druid, start drinking heavily, check her makeup, and go a begging. If you gotta give a random BJ for some bug spray, so be it. Kip's on his own.
Nobody wanted Mame's action dead or alive, so it was a good thing she had a stash of Kip's homemade beef jerky to use as wampum.
Mame managed to self soothe herself with liquor, and then proceeded to make Kip's life a living hell. You can bet Kip got no play in the teepee that night.
Mame awoke with a full bladder at 2:00 a.m. and was afraid to use the outhouse or leave the tent in case a tick drilled into her medulla oblangata or butt hole.
The pee and malice just stewed inside of her until the light of dawn enabled her to huff out of mother nature's hell hole. I told her to drive away and leave Kip on his own (AMF YOYO*), but Mame knows better than to take marital advice from Babs.
Mame, I will give you this piece of advice...stick to what you excel at bitch-- room service at a five star.
*adios mutha f****-- you're on your own.
Poor Mame, I hope some kindly fellow camper helped her out without compromising her dignity!
ReplyDeleteSome biker dude took her jerky.
ReplyDeleteMame struck a Faustian bargain with Kip. She would camp if he would attend quisling, queer family, pretender to the thrown family reunion with her.
ReplyDelete