The ALligator story
I have been asked to reprint the Alligator story for all posterity.
about a year ago Chuck and I posted our version of the alligator story for all our fans.
It happened when he was divorcing his now Exwife
here again is the true story.
Chuck and Snagley go fishing.
As you know Chuck has started a story regarding the alligator incident. As usual he tends to confuse many issues. I have decided to post a companion article clearing up some of the confusion. It begins thusly.
Chuck called my up crying again. He is divorcing his wife. He needs to talk to someone and I volunteer. I suggest a fishing trip. I go to pick him up at his house. The day proceeds thusly…
Me Hi Chuck
Chuck Hello Mr. Snagley
Me You are not going fishing with me wearing that. (He is wearing a pair of tennis shorts and a hat with an umbrella built in, and no shirt.) Go inside and come out dressed like a man.
10 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a pink polo shirt.
5 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a Charles in charge t-shirt.
5 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt.
Me ok lets go.
I take him to the Alabama River near Selma, Alabama. He blubbers the entire way. He is dipping Copenhagen snuff. Chucks reaches into his hip pocket and gets his can as he taps the can on my dashboard denting the wood he says.
I ain’t been fishing in years.
He then runs his hand down the back of his pants scratching some unnatural itch. He then dips ¼ can of Copenhagen snuff with the same hand, loading his lip way beyond capacity. He is spitting the tobacco juice into an empty Zima bottle.
He usually disgusts me. But for some reason I feel too sorry for him to blast him about his unhygienic ways.
Chuck is passing gas as normal. He is lactose intolerant. But he loves to eat cottage cheese you can see some cottage cheese on the stubble of beard from his breakfast this morning. His condition produces an aroma that would give a buzzard the dry heaves
As I roll down the window in an attempt to stay lucid behind the wheel I say.
Chuck (gag gag) it is all going to work out (wretch). FA will foul something up. She always does (wheeze) and you will come out of this thing smelling like a dead rat. (Which will be a great improvement).
We finally arrive at the river. We stop at my favorite bait shop to rent a boat. As usual Chuck brought no cash. I pay for his fishing license and get us both a sack lunch. I rent the boat and prepare to go fishing.
Chuck starts begging for beer. I get him two quart bottles of his favorite beer
“Milwaukee’s best” and we shove off.
Chuck eats my lunch while I am navigating down river to the first fishing hole. I ask him how his children are handling all this. He spits Oreo cookies into his beer as he explains the latest insanity that they are all being subjected too.
Then as usual he falls out of the boat.
To be continued.
Ok let me pick up where I left off.
Chuck had just eaten my lunch spit Oreos into his beer told me his sad story and fallen out of the boat.
As you all must know. Chuck cannot swim he is afraid of water. That is why he does not regularly bath or shower. He was floundering in the water, inconsiderately ruining any fishing to be found in this fishing spot. I got a Pepsi and settled back to watch the show.
He was screaming for help and crying. I looked at him and told him to stand up. He did stand up. The water came up only to his hips.
He looked at me and started yelling profanity at me blaming me for all the ills of society, and alleging that my parents were of questionable decent. I told him to get back in the boat and stop scaring the fish. He stood there for a moment and started laughing. He had the oddest look on his face. I have learned that whenever Chucks looks odder that usually it is not a good sign. I steadied myself for whatever disaster was impending. He then passed gas, and asked for his beer. I handed him the beer, gasping for breath. He drained the quart bottle of beer and reached for the boat attempting to get into the boat, promptly capsizing the craft spilling all of the valuable contents, namely me.
I surfaced the water just in time to see the boat drifting down the river away from us and too far for me to reach it swimming. I then heard the ominous sound of a pump shotgun being loaded, and an unfamiliar voice saying. Gator, look what I found. I turned to see a man; I assumed it was a man. He appeared to be in his 40s over 6 feet tall bald, and naked except for a pair of what used to be white underwear, he was covered from head to toe in mud and filth. He was holding a shotgun and smoking what I thought was a hand rolled cigarette.
Pappy came over he a short fat man wearing bib overalls, no shirt, and no shoes. The side buttons were open on his overalls putting his lard gut on display. He, unlike his companion, had long gray hair tied in a ponytail behind his large bulbous head. He said boys; your day is fixing to take a turn for the worse, talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Are you boys with the D.E.A., be honest it may be your last chance to be honest in this life.
Chuck started to cry wailing about not wanting to die. I said no mister we are not with the DEA were doing some fishing, and dumb ass here turned over our boat. That is it floating around the bend. If you would be so kind as to help us get it you will have seen the last of us. I need to be getting home soon anyway.
He said, boys I am a fisherman too, I don’t practice no catch and release. The two of you are what I call keepers. He turns to the man in his drawers and said, Luther take these up to the north garden. We’ll see we can find any use for them.
Chuck turned to me and said “Snagley you idiot what are we going to do”.
I said, Chuck shut up and do whatever you can to not tick these guys off.
The older man said Snagley and Chuck huh. My name is Pappy but everyone calls me the Aligator. This is Luther, he used to be a fisherman too, now he guards the crop.
To be continued.
Luther led Chuck and I up to a shack near the North garden. There was marijuana planted in the field. There were two toothless women in their late 40s sitting on the swing smoking more of those hand rolled cigarettes. One of the women looked at us and said “Luther it is about time”.
Chuck looked at the marijuana pile on the porch for a minute. Then he looked at me. Then he looked at the women on the porch. Then he took one more look at the Alligator walking into the distance. He then striped down to his underwear “which used to be white” And started rolling himself a cigarette. He looked up at me and said. “Mr. Snagley I think I am home”.
One of the women stood up. She was wearing a pair of cut off bib overalls. They were stained from top to bottom with what looked like tobacco spit. She ground out her cigarette in the palm of her hand and said “Luther looks like we got an addition to the family. I want this one.” Pointing to Chuck. The other woman stood up. She was wearing matching overalls. She started walking toward me. “I said whoa now I am a married man you know”. She stopped and said to Luther. Damn I guess I will have to share this one with Myrtle” pointing to Chuck.
I had to think of something quick I had no intention of staying at this place with Myrtle and her sister, Luther, the Alligator and the newest member of their family, Chuck.
Myrtle said, “Eunice this one is mine. Why don’t you get us some grub while I warm this one up”.
Myrtle said “ All right but we are out of grub all we got left is some cottage cheese and a bottle of milk”.
“There may be hope after all I thought”
I sat there on the ground with Luther pointing a shotgun at me while Chuck gorged himself on cottage cheese. He then downed the quart of milk.
When he had finished eating Eunice said to Myrtle “We are going to have to share this one. Pa can use the other one to work the fields or something”. She took Chuck by the ear and led him into the shack. Luther started laughing. Your friend is about to make those to darlings’ day. He then went into the shack to watch what was happening.
From outside the shack I could hear some commotion. It sounded like a panther was loose in the shack. Then I heard the sound that could only be described as Chuck exploding, followed by the sounds of choking, gasping and wheezing. I knew then that the lactose intolerance had done its job. The three mutants came running out of the shack and did not stop till the got to the river where they dove into the muddy water trying to clear their eyes. Chuck then came out of the shack grinning like a fool. He was smoking another “home made” cigarette and said. I had it planned all along. No one can stand up to Chuck farts.
We then jumped into the Alligators truck and beat it out of there.
This is the real story of the Alligator. Any other story is simply hogwash.
On the way home Chuck loaded his lip with snuff, still wearing only his stained underwear and said. Hey when are we going fishing again.
about a year ago Chuck and I posted our version of the alligator story for all our fans.
It happened when he was divorcing his now Exwife
here again is the true story.
Chuck and Snagley go fishing.
As you know Chuck has started a story regarding the alligator incident. As usual he tends to confuse many issues. I have decided to post a companion article clearing up some of the confusion. It begins thusly.
Chuck called my up crying again. He is divorcing his wife. He needs to talk to someone and I volunteer. I suggest a fishing trip. I go to pick him up at his house. The day proceeds thusly…
Me Hi Chuck
Chuck Hello Mr. Snagley
Me You are not going fishing with me wearing that. (He is wearing a pair of tennis shorts and a hat with an umbrella built in, and no shirt.) Go inside and come out dressed like a man.
10 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a pink polo shirt.
5 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a Charles in charge t-shirt.
5 minutes pass
He returns shortly wearing blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt.
Me ok lets go.
I take him to the Alabama River near Selma, Alabama. He blubbers the entire way. He is dipping Copenhagen snuff. Chucks reaches into his hip pocket and gets his can as he taps the can on my dashboard denting the wood he says.
I ain’t been fishing in years.
He then runs his hand down the back of his pants scratching some unnatural itch. He then dips ¼ can of Copenhagen snuff with the same hand, loading his lip way beyond capacity. He is spitting the tobacco juice into an empty Zima bottle.
He usually disgusts me. But for some reason I feel too sorry for him to blast him about his unhygienic ways.
Chuck is passing gas as normal. He is lactose intolerant. But he loves to eat cottage cheese you can see some cottage cheese on the stubble of beard from his breakfast this morning. His condition produces an aroma that would give a buzzard the dry heaves
As I roll down the window in an attempt to stay lucid behind the wheel I say.
Chuck (gag gag) it is all going to work out (wretch). FA will foul something up. She always does (wheeze) and you will come out of this thing smelling like a dead rat. (Which will be a great improvement).
We finally arrive at the river. We stop at my favorite bait shop to rent a boat. As usual Chuck brought no cash. I pay for his fishing license and get us both a sack lunch. I rent the boat and prepare to go fishing.
Chuck starts begging for beer. I get him two quart bottles of his favorite beer
“Milwaukee’s best” and we shove off.
Chuck eats my lunch while I am navigating down river to the first fishing hole. I ask him how his children are handling all this. He spits Oreo cookies into his beer as he explains the latest insanity that they are all being subjected too.
Then as usual he falls out of the boat.
To be continued.
Ok let me pick up where I left off.
Chuck had just eaten my lunch spit Oreos into his beer told me his sad story and fallen out of the boat.
As you all must know. Chuck cannot swim he is afraid of water. That is why he does not regularly bath or shower. He was floundering in the water, inconsiderately ruining any fishing to be found in this fishing spot. I got a Pepsi and settled back to watch the show.
He was screaming for help and crying. I looked at him and told him to stand up. He did stand up. The water came up only to his hips.
He looked at me and started yelling profanity at me blaming me for all the ills of society, and alleging that my parents were of questionable decent. I told him to get back in the boat and stop scaring the fish. He stood there for a moment and started laughing. He had the oddest look on his face. I have learned that whenever Chucks looks odder that usually it is not a good sign. I steadied myself for whatever disaster was impending. He then passed gas, and asked for his beer. I handed him the beer, gasping for breath. He drained the quart bottle of beer and reached for the boat attempting to get into the boat, promptly capsizing the craft spilling all of the valuable contents, namely me.
I surfaced the water just in time to see the boat drifting down the river away from us and too far for me to reach it swimming. I then heard the ominous sound of a pump shotgun being loaded, and an unfamiliar voice saying. Gator, look what I found. I turned to see a man; I assumed it was a man. He appeared to be in his 40s over 6 feet tall bald, and naked except for a pair of what used to be white underwear, he was covered from head to toe in mud and filth. He was holding a shotgun and smoking what I thought was a hand rolled cigarette.
Pappy came over he a short fat man wearing bib overalls, no shirt, and no shoes. The side buttons were open on his overalls putting his lard gut on display. He, unlike his companion, had long gray hair tied in a ponytail behind his large bulbous head. He said boys; your day is fixing to take a turn for the worse, talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Are you boys with the D.E.A., be honest it may be your last chance to be honest in this life.
Chuck started to cry wailing about not wanting to die. I said no mister we are not with the DEA were doing some fishing, and dumb ass here turned over our boat. That is it floating around the bend. If you would be so kind as to help us get it you will have seen the last of us. I need to be getting home soon anyway.
He said, boys I am a fisherman too, I don’t practice no catch and release. The two of you are what I call keepers. He turns to the man in his drawers and said, Luther take these up to the north garden. We’ll see we can find any use for them.
Chuck turned to me and said “Snagley you idiot what are we going to do”.
I said, Chuck shut up and do whatever you can to not tick these guys off.
The older man said Snagley and Chuck huh. My name is Pappy but everyone calls me the Aligator. This is Luther, he used to be a fisherman too, now he guards the crop.
To be continued.
Luther led Chuck and I up to a shack near the North garden. There was marijuana planted in the field. There were two toothless women in their late 40s sitting on the swing smoking more of those hand rolled cigarettes. One of the women looked at us and said “Luther it is about time”.
Chuck looked at the marijuana pile on the porch for a minute. Then he looked at me. Then he looked at the women on the porch. Then he took one more look at the Alligator walking into the distance. He then striped down to his underwear “which used to be white” And started rolling himself a cigarette. He looked up at me and said. “Mr. Snagley I think I am home”.
One of the women stood up. She was wearing a pair of cut off bib overalls. They were stained from top to bottom with what looked like tobacco spit. She ground out her cigarette in the palm of her hand and said “Luther looks like we got an addition to the family. I want this one.” Pointing to Chuck. The other woman stood up. She was wearing matching overalls. She started walking toward me. “I said whoa now I am a married man you know”. She stopped and said to Luther. Damn I guess I will have to share this one with Myrtle” pointing to Chuck.
I had to think of something quick I had no intention of staying at this place with Myrtle and her sister, Luther, the Alligator and the newest member of their family, Chuck.
Myrtle said, “Eunice this one is mine. Why don’t you get us some grub while I warm this one up”.
Myrtle said “ All right but we are out of grub all we got left is some cottage cheese and a bottle of milk”.
“There may be hope after all I thought”
I sat there on the ground with Luther pointing a shotgun at me while Chuck gorged himself on cottage cheese. He then downed the quart of milk.
When he had finished eating Eunice said to Myrtle “We are going to have to share this one. Pa can use the other one to work the fields or something”. She took Chuck by the ear and led him into the shack. Luther started laughing. Your friend is about to make those to darlings’ day. He then went into the shack to watch what was happening.
From outside the shack I could hear some commotion. It sounded like a panther was loose in the shack. Then I heard the sound that could only be described as Chuck exploding, followed by the sounds of choking, gasping and wheezing. I knew then that the lactose intolerance had done its job. The three mutants came running out of the shack and did not stop till the got to the river where they dove into the muddy water trying to clear their eyes. Chuck then came out of the shack grinning like a fool. He was smoking another “home made” cigarette and said. I had it planned all along. No one can stand up to Chuck farts.
We then jumped into the Alligators truck and beat it out of there.
This is the real story of the Alligator. Any other story is simply hogwash.
On the way home Chuck loaded his lip with snuff, still wearing only his stained underwear and said. Hey when are we going fishing again.
