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"How can I help you my child? When I can barely help myself?"
Father Dement peered at the calander while the cookoo clock poignantly clicked and clucked followed by the beep of an answering machine.
This clock hand carved was the ugliest;heaviest clock in existance. It was a gift, however and gifts should be accepted joyfully. It had taken three pulley's and heavy screws drilled into the wall to hold the clock in place. It was hand made in Switzerland, at least that's what Mrs Rumpets told him. Actually as he remembered back Mrs Rumpets who had been a travel agent for many years through a chain letter pyramid scheme had started a long distance love letter with someone in Switzerland. Her neighbor's secound cousin CuZac who never ever did anything but cut people from time to time reformed his ways and began to cut wood. He wound up carving this monster of a clock from a ancient 10 thousand year old tree that was under the Agricultural Environmental Conservation Program better known as the AECP, well at least it is now.
The tree survived this terriable attack and the authorities never could figure out who did the damage. Mrs Rumpet looked at the whole thing as a sign from above. It's always been her firm belief that CuZac's act of violence was answered by God.
As she told him "If God wants something protected he is going to go out of his way to do it, and nothing CuZac not even that sick habit you have of cutting folks from time to time with your knifes will stop God's protection.
The Lord will protect all of his living creatures Cuzac and you should accept this as a bonified sign from the Lord Almighty. He is telling me CuZac that he has a strong arm.
Your days as people cutter are over. It tells me that you should do something positive. Most people would take that wood and make something evil out of it like a sign or some nonsense like that. I want you to use your knife for something good. Sit there in the Garage and don't do anything else but think about making something positive.
I know that the Lord can work miracles."
One thing led to another and CuZac did indeed stop cutting people. He never really commited a homicide however he was getting to be a problem as he often would cut people some slack every now and then.
The letters from Switzerland may have been the inspiration.
That and the fact that CuZac had originally written to Switzerland in search of their famed red light district and
as the intervening fates would have it he contacted someone who sent him a How 2 carve your own Coo Coo Clock with out driving yourself or others crazy. Since CuZac was so far away and the wood was not included he recieved the plans in the mail and busied himself with the task of carving the giagantic monstrosity. After he worked on it for a long time Mrs Rumpet peeped in on CuZac and tearfully hugged him and encouraged him to complete the project. She even spent some of her own money on the parts that go cluck and coo coo which turned out to be a tape recording that CuZac made on a answering machine.
















Goodness. It's national exohorcism week, he exclaimed outloud. Father Dement continued to listen to various sounds beeps belches and farts that came from the coo coo clock. It was ugly and annoying, however, a gift is a gift.
Each hour had a different set of sound effects finally a long beep followed by a dial tone indicating that the half hour was being sounded.
"Yes, yes, National Exorcism week." Father Dement went into the main living room reserved for Fathers and Sisters.
He sat on the large over stuffed couch and stared up at the heavily beemed ceiling.
The phone rang however Father Dement did'nt answer it. He thought that it was the coo coo clock.
Father Dement thought of some of the needy and poor possesed in the local area. Whom could it be that would benefit from a really good exorcism.
Father Dement found this time of the year the most trying and always cited it in his personal notations under the title the thing that makes or breaks a Padre. Or, why the Irish make coffee. Father Dement looked around the living room. The carpet faded and worn did not have any bare spots nor was it thread bare. It just had a muted hue to it. The colors long since dulled by years of pacing and private thoughts directed at the heavens.
Ah, so many demonized people in the world and only one week in which to catch one and give them aid.
The local community was filled with chapters that proclaimed public assistance for those that had strayed from the word of God.
Father Dement thought of his own travels with the Lord Almighty and made a mental note for this week to ammend for his transgressions if he had in fact truly angered God Almighty. He again of Miss Hair. Bestragled and dingy she was his first love. He remembered taking her in, not realizing that she had a pronounced form of multiple personality disorders that rendered her incapable of doing anything but singing Broadway show tunes followed by prolonged periods of salivating.
He remembered fondly removing the church punch from underneath her jaw as a long strand of drool hung like silly putty or thick corn syrup from the crook of her mouth.
A long endless strand of drool that in the poorly lit punch chamber still remained a mystery as to whether or not Miss Hairs Drool was the secret ingredient that day.
He remembers how at first he only ministered to her. Tried in every way to reach out to her. Some days she would dress in costumes that were from historical periods in Pre- Romantism history. She was an able seamstress taking a share of the donated clothing and making herself fetching coustumes and outfits. Father Dement was pleased and his spirits soared as he saw her dive into the fabric, stabbing and peircing the material with an evil growl.
















k-e-y.. h-o-u-s-e!

Tails and Short Stories.