Comedy Short Stories
There are tales of scary things that go bump in the night. Every culture has something that gives it's inhabitants fear. And fear is good as we all need to have it in order to realize the gifts we are given. In Nepal there is folklore about an ape-like entity taller than an average human and is said to live in the Himalayan regions of Nepal, Bhutan and Tibet called the Yeti. These ferocious beasts are believed by most to be figments of our myth imagination. Is this lack of belief due to a Yeti never captured and studied? I think that has a huge part to do with why the general population of the world doesn't believe. I am a believer and not part of the general population of the world for I have secret knowledge of their existence.
It all started in late 1990 when I was backpacking through the Himalayan region of Nepal as a gift to myself for graduating High School 1,150 out of 1,171. I clearly didn't have ambitions to pursue a higher education and hoped that my journey across the Himalayan's would provide me clarity in my life and give me a clearer direction. I had been on the dusty roads for multiple days with nothing but mountainous terrain and no living souls. Then from a distance my vision picked up shades of objects that turned out to be a small village. My heart raised up and my belly began to rumble for real food. I entered the village and was met by some odd looks and behind the hand whispers as I lumbered through the streets. I thought that the locals were staring at me because I was an outsider but in retrospect it was the bright green gear I had. In truth it was more of a florescent green that made me look like a large lime.
I finally found the Inn or what I thought was the Inn. The sign on the door had something that looked like a cup so it made sense it was an Inn. I figured worst case it was a cup manufacturer in the middle of Himalayas's. When I entered the smell of stale alcohol and desperation hit my nose and I knew this was the right place. I found an unsteady stool and took a seat slinging my bright green bag to the floor resulting in a painful yell escaping from the man next to me. "Watch out man!" I did a double take as he spoke English better than I did. "You speak English! I cannot believe you speak English. Where are you from?" The stool mate glanced at me and said, "The States."
After a handful of local drinks called Chyang the stool mate and I discussed everything from hiking the country, wanting to climb Mount Everest and the likelihood we would see a Yeti. On a side note please take the following warning when drinking local alcoholic beverages. My stool mate instructed me to only drink Chyang when wanting an alcoholic beverage which I was happy to find out. He warned me to stay away from Raksi as it is the most counterfeited drinks for tourists and can contain toxic or other harmful chemicals. That would explain why I had been having a problem for the last several weeks as I visited many local towns. After leaving a local pub where I drank multiple Raksi's I would have severe leg cramps that would literally cause me to seize and fall over onto my stomach. This sudden impact with the ground wasn't the worst part as it would trigger an unleashing of my bodily functions and I would subsequently pee and poop myself.
I couldn't tell you how many delicious Chyang's in copper bowls I had while talking with my stool mate but it exceeded ten. He had been there much longer than I and he was probably on number 25 at that point. True to form as most drunk people do, he leaned close to my face and slurred out, "I have top secret clearance through the Central Intelligence Agency, CIA, and you will not believe what I am doing here." My eyes bulged and my head snapped backwards in shock and awe. I couldn't contain my mouth from half spitting due to my drunk-numb lips, "What?" He picked back up. "I am here looking for the Yeti as the CIA believes that they can be great operatives that can be utilized in undercover spy missions." Now if I weren't very drunk the CIA trying to find Yeti as undercover spies would probably sound a bit far fetched. However the drinks caused my reasonability sensor to switch off. "So why does the CIA need Yeti as undercover spies?" The stool mate pulled me close to his face. "Napal, Bhutan and Tibet are very close to creating a nuclear weapon. They plan on using it to attack Antarctica as they have some long history of hating one another. I won't go into the history as it would bore you."
Regardless of his trepidation of going into the history he did anyways and it took a long time and that is saying something being drunk and all. "So tomorrow I head off into the countryside looking for the Yeti." His drunken head bobbed forwards and then backwards quickly. I thought he was going to either pass out or vomit on me so I tried to stand up to get out of his way. He grabbed my shoulder and sat me back down. "I am not going to throw up on you." I was happy to hear that. "You want to know why the Yeti are so hard to find?" I shook my head yes and was never so excited to get an answer. "It's because they were hunted to near extinction by the Hit Kitties from Antarctica." Again my drunken brain took this for fact. "This goes back to the beef with Antarctica and wanting to get rid of the countries national mascot." This information was amazing and I couldn't believe that such atrocities still occurred. My stool mate stood up and held onto the bar to steady himself. "I am going to bed as I need to get up early for my expedition. If you want to know more about the Hit Kitties, go to the center of town and check out the antiquities store and ask the curator for the book. It will fill you in on just how dangerous they are." With that last bit of intelligence he pushed away from the bar and stumbled away.
The morning soon woke and with it I crawled out of my sleeping bag and coaxed the evenings fire back to life. Two cups of strong instant coffee later I am on my way downtown. Bearing in mind that downtown is about two dirt paths away on the left. The store is marked with a weird symbol on the door which I match to the drunken drawing from my stool mate last evening. I opened the door and squeezed my way into the shop and immediately started knocking over things. I dropped my backpack on the floor and propped it against the door. I realize now that no one was going to get in as my two ton bag wouldn't allow it. The shop was old, dusty and smelled like two commercial book stores murdered each other. There were many unique things positioned across the dirty floor and make shift shelves. Most of them were things like shrunken Yeti children dolls and a full size Yeti adult doll that could certainly spice up someone's intimate hours. As I pondered how to get the adult Yeti into my backpack an elder man appeared from behind one of the stands and said something that I didn't understand. I gave him a quick wave hello and a weird grin as I never was good with smiles. The elder man said something else and I still couldn't make out what he was saying. I nodded at him and continued looking at dried Yeti finger coffee stirrers in an attempt to deal with the awkward situation. I then heard the elder man start smacking his lips and thought he was having a medical emergency and turned my attention back to him. The elder man smiled at me and said, "Sorry about that. I was eating a piece of toffee."
The time flew by as we drank tea and discussed the dusty ancient book sitting in front of us. The title was in a language I didn't recognize and took the word of the elder man that it was the history of the Hit Kitties. The language on the pages matched the covers title and the elder man translated. In a nutshell the Hit Kitties were bred by the Egyptians to be the most elite assassins to deal with anyone that threatened them. After hearing about them decimating Captains in the Roman army I wondered if there had been some Egyptian magic from the book of the dead used somewhere. I was anxious to see how the Hit Kitties became an assassination tool for Antarctica's Government but the elder man couldn't find anything in the book. The elder man turned pages and a picture caught my attention and asked what it was. The elder man paused on the picture and reviewed the text before saying it was the most vicious of the Hit Kitties who went by the name of Gertrude. And the scary part is when he told me that she was immortal. I left the elder man and his store soon after and headed away from the village. I wondered if an immortal cat could be possible and if so was she responsible for all the Yeti slaying's? The name echoed in my head as I reached the peak of a hill, Gertrude the Hit Kitty.