Hunting the Ferocious Feral Tofu with Sleepy-Dawg Dawson
Published: June 21, 2022
More unbelievable bullshit from the files of The Crusty Cowboy Club
Occasionally I let drop my veneer of genteel refinement and intellectualness and give in to my real nature; the nature that is in the heart of all animals… the hunter! But… being a Crusty Cowboy, a Range Rider of The New Millennium-um-um-um-m, I am a nice-guy hunter, a New-Age, Sorry-I-Didn’t-Mean-To-Hurt-You-Let-Me-Put-A-Bandaid-On-That hunter.
As a result I don’t get many call-outs to participate in wildlife massacres but… but, this time, the most recent time, I was told to grab my bullets and load my rifle to start killing for a good cause!
International Rescue alerted me to a crisis in an Indochina village where some domesticated tofu had broken out of their enclosures and gone feral. Straight up, dude! It happens!
This relatively common problem is exacerbated when the usually accommodating tofu — long domesticated to enable it to develop the coveted soft white, creamy flesh — is crossbred with the wild teeveepee which produces a nasty and ferocious offspring called seitan. Seitan, a vigourous hybrid, often inbreeds again with the tofu to produce an even nastier piece of schitt that has a malevolent tempeh.
The people of this particular village had let the matter get out of hand and rapid cross-breeding by a massive rogue, red-eyed teeveepee was producing gangs of murderous seitan that were violently rooting escaped tofus, smashing down village bamboo fences like they were made of nothing but bamboo, eating children and slow adults and putting firecrackers in letterboxes.
It was both nasty and naughty; it sounded dangerous. I took my Uzi — no point fukkin’ around with brain-fried tofu and bad-tempehed seitan.
My Tofu hunting outfit is jungle green cowboy chaps and stetson with vertical green stripes so I can blend in with the bamboo trees. I drag behind me a 1.6 metre diameter cable spool with 5 kilometres of continuous bullet belt wrapped around it. Like I said: no point etc etc., we’re not huntin’ chipmunks!
I was slurping along the mosquito-infested banks of the dirty Toy Lett River in Outer Indochina when a hideous noise froze my step. In a clearing not 50 metres away I saw a blood-chilling sight. A huge hump-buttocked tofu was being cruelly plonkered by the crazed red-eyed teeveepee and the tofu was hollering and screaming. This wasn’t rough sex, pal, it was date-rape of the worst kind. And there wasn’t a picnic blanket or a bottle of wine in sight!
I racked the Uzi’s magazine and fed in the belt. The racking noise made the teeveepee look up and glare ferociously at me. Then the fukker charged with the tofu still pronged underneath. Both of them charging at me… I had no choice. It was bloody gruesome but, gee, it was lots of fun, too. I shot the crap out of both the teeveepee and the tofu (Sorry-I-Didn’t-Mean-To-Hurt-You-Let-Me-Put-A-Bandaid-On-That ) and marched back into the village with the heads of both of them mounted on bamboo stakes.
I was a hero; they gave me chinese-made ‘rolex’ watches and ‘levi’ jeans. The watches rusted to death in half an hour and the jeans rotted off me before I got on the plane home. Still, I do have some very nice photographs of me holding aloft the two mutilated and bloody heads of the vicious teeveepee and the surprised tofu.
So… if you need any work like that done — you know: environment/pest control — I am happy to revert to a nature-boy, strap on the Uzi and kill anything for good reasons. But only for a good reason, ok?
However, I wont be a-killin’ anything but a bunch of songs that don’t deserve it (Sorry-I-Didn’t-Mean-To-Hurt-You-Let-Me-Put-A-Bandaid-On-That) when the Crusties present The Crusty Cowboys Ride Again! at The Best Little Show-House in Town: Diverse-City, on Saturday July the 2th.
Lots of cowboy music and fun. Good trail-side tucker too … although I believe the cowboys refer to it as ‘grub’. Yeuch!
Use this painting of Picasso’s cock to get you through to Moshtix for booking but, for fucks sake, do it now! The best tables will be gone before you know it and you’ll be seated next to the dunnies.
