The Fox Trapper – Letter 5

To my foreverfully astonishingly gorgeous Eliza,

There’s a hole in my heart that goes all the way to Savannah, Georgia. It was merely a pin-prick the early morning I bid you goodbye and left Windsor, but it has now grown to the size of Ol’ Mr. Sleepinberg’s cesspit. This void can be filled by one person and only one person, and that person is you, Eliza. All I would need to fill it is one smile from your mostly-still-intact set of teeth. I’m none too sure how long I can continue on this horrible venture, my body has grown weak from lack of proper nutrition and each day we travel further West in search of more foxes. I’m not sure how long I can stay up so late in order to save my furry friends, I fear very much for their safety.

My sole companion, Claudio, is the one thing here that keeps me sane. I’ve taught him another new trick! Whenever I poke him with what I like to call the “trick stick” and ask him “Who is the strongest, cleverest and handsomest beast in all the land?”, Claudio screams like a Harpy and bounces off the walls of his cage. What I believe he is saying is “ME! ME, YOU DAMNED VILE SCUM! I AM CLAUDIO, THE MIGHTIEST BEAST OF THEM ALL!!!” Mice are such fascinating creatures.

Eliza my dear, I’m sure what you meant to explain to your companions was that your brother Claudio was assisting me in my attempt to learn the sport of golfing. So yes, my hands were certainly on your brothers shaft, as were his own, as he pressed his thick muscular body against my back and demonstrated how to “put ones hips into it.” I’m sorry, but I do not understand people’s fascination with mine and your brother’s relationship. That is just how men who have great amounts of respect for each other act. Please explain this to your ladies so as to not have them think that Claudio and I have ever intentionally felt each others sweet caress.

My Crimpers Pelvis is still very much enflamed and the blood to urine ratio is beginning to lean more towards the blood side. I just do not trust any man here enough to have them tickle my feet for 16 minutes. I suppose I will just hope to urinate all the evil spirits out of my body, which requires a great deal of extra pushing, but I can tell there is significantly more blood leaving my body, so there is still hope.

Eliza, the thought of running away from camp has crossed my mind a number of times. If only I knew the wilderness better, I would leave now and be back in your arms within a matter of months. Alas, I am doomed to sit, wait, and complain until the time has come to return home. If only the captain allowed me to imbibe in our supply of alcohol like you do so frequently. I’m told it is for “men only,” but nowhere on the barrel do I see that label nor would it matter if that label did exist. Sometimes I just do not understand these men I must work with.

Rest assured though, my dear, that when I return I shall wed the hell out of you. I readily anticipate your reply, tell your brother that I long for his arms the width of tree trunks wrapped around me while he assists me in gripping the shaft correctly.

The golf club shaft.

With all of my unbridled love,

Your Wilbur

2 thoughts on “The Fox Trapper – Letter 5”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s