Legend of the Spidery Things Ch. 01

It is true a hefty body of folks tend to refrain - guess they inherited the leaning in refraining from voicing many reasons to favor this time of year. The winds born have not infrequently known the darkness of neglect when they were but whips with innocent beginnings but come into the world knowing not the gentle caresses of love but only to sling wicked stingers when they blow and they recruit germs which compose colds that invade homes of good families and heads become stuffy and tissues get icky and fingers can't engage with the beautiful world in nature's naked way.

But even with all the reasons to despise this time of year, optimism just can't give up clinging to that rugged root of hope so the blessings deserve attention too - such as this is also a fine time for good neighbors to gather around a table few wouldn't be too busy with a life deep in bustle to recognize as a table for fine dining unless they included what wasn't all so fancy and digging in a hearty stew supper like the stew supper of wild game cooked up by the loving hand of my Maggie and then to sip after-supper hot hard ciders while my Maggie and her helper gals tend to the work in the kitchen and then coming here to gather round the old potbelly.

Oh I know we'd all love to be able to do what we can't like wander outside in Bermudas and Hawaiian shirts and throw fleshy chicken thighs or beefy ground patties on a grill and lounge around cracking cold brews - now that heat coming off this dear potbelly - buddy talk about stories, this old potbelly could tell us all - had my great-great grandpappy not fallen on those lean years I'm sure he'd picked out the potbelly given story-spinning gifts - but I'd also say just sitting here silent and being the bringer of warmth to so many bones and helping so many hearts feel the love that comes when sitting deep upon an affectionate uncle's lap - what I'm getting to I reckon is I'll wager that's some sweet heat if any such thing like sweet waves of hearty heat is - so we do what we can do and my but it just feels righteous to settle in a cozy rocker, fetch up the whetstone and swirl a blade against it, swirl, swirl, swirl, oh it's like a - what's the term? Hypnotic? Meditative? In that territory.

Yeah just sit and swirl a little blade like this pocketknife blade and reflect on this and that; maybe someone could throw a hunk in the potbelly - try a cherry - yeah those four or five in a pyramid style pile off to the side - those are the cherry chunks - yeah that's it, just one good hunk is all we need. Coax a toasty aroma to bless our senses.

Beg pardon? Oh that? Goodness how rambunctious are the curiosities. The Legend of the Titanium Spidery Things? Really wanting to hear that one? Yeah it was promised but when Maggie's fine wild game stew was melting in my mouth and if you ask me it's a bit unfair a time to ask a man to promise what he'll regret later if Maggie's meaty wild game morsels are melting in his mouth. But a promise is a promise and commendations are noted for persistence and passion.

Best way I know to begin what we've always known as The Legend of the Titanium Spidery Things is to give generous notice to what I don't know what else to call but the precursors or the harbingers or if I dare use the word Prophet then maybe we're looking at the prophetic prologue or the section that proclaims the way the tale shall fare once arising from the baptism.

Whatever it is the important beginning point begins with a massive band of particles - more technical tomes used molecules and it's hard to raise an objection to using molecules but this old crotchety brain just can't seem to let loose of particles so that's what we'll go by and by gum anyone is free to exchange particle for molecule as they feel comfy - so these particles - particles of precipitation specifically - some have used the word armada and others use fleet - I just always used armada because I like the word, so this armada of precipitation particles were floating and they floated for a purpose and these purposeful precipitation particles happened to be native to the Arctic Circle - well they were not the neighborly kind of precipitation particles - not the soft falling rain like we get when the summer rolls around; not the kind of waters you'd dunk your head in after a hot day of roping calves or cutting down timber or plugging the woman; not the kind of waters you don't mind hanging around a little while to watch roll off the roof or pour out the gutters.

No these were much more snappy or snippy - ruffians I reckon you'd call them - ruffians who never had much use for trying to earn honest livings - so they had departed their Arctic Circle coastal town for the purpose of a southward rampage - not even to bring back booty but to simply go and annoy civilizations that might not expect a blast of precipitation particles to pour out freezing rains and stinging snow pellets just for their own sadistic enjoyment. It should be stressed that these precipitation particles of the Arctic Circle did not represent the majority of the precipitation particle tribes native to the Arctic Circle coasts as most coastal Arctic Circle particles were as peaceable of particles precipitous or sandy or ashy as you could ask for.

Well along the way this precipitation particle armada of the Arctic Circle ran into pressures that did not wish to be too kind to these particles and they thus came to a standstill and the standstill lasted longer than many a standstill lasted and dang sure longer than most of the younger particles remembered because they'd never experienced this long a standstill and took unkindly pressures personally - see, they'd never learned to entertain themselves so they got bored really fast and their boredom caused their moods to deteriorate to the point that some of the particles began to whisper amongst themselves they draw up a petition pointing them in a return to their homelands.

Didn't take long for the Most Decorated Particle to catch wind of the mutinous mumbles and took less of a long time for this Most Decorated Particle to reply that if the mutinous mumbles continued, they could expect punitive recourse in the form of eternal banishment to the dimension where the sun always shined and the land never froze and they'd surely melt away into the warmth of nothingness; this they could bank on should they bring up the subject again or should the Most Decorated Particle dare hear of them bringing up the subject again.

Enough of a majority obeyed and quit the mutinous mumbles though a smattering of the particles grumbled just a little but not enough to concern the Most Decorated Particle because the said majority of the particles let go of their petition and returned to their atmospheric duties.

Well they shortly were reminded why this particle was the Most Decorated Particle because a particle doesn't become a Most Decorated Particle by getting intimate with impatience; as true back then as it is today true; because the crow's-nest particle covering that shift's lookout duties caught sight of a strange segment in the distance and called the Most Decorated Particle's attention to that segment in the distance and segment identifiers identified that distant segment as an independent departure from a parental kind of air stream which appeared to be moving aimlessly if its activity could be called movement.

They were partly correct about the aimlessness of the wandering air stream segment. This was a stream that had heard about redheads of legend in Iceland and had a great desire to quit dreaming and to actually go on a journey to check out the redheads of legend in Iceland and became aware there was a stream they called Gulf back then that had a route that went in that vicinity so this stream segment wanted to see about joining up or entering or grafting options, pretty much anything to facilitate the pesky dream of checking out the redheads of legend in Iceland.

But it was the finding of a stream long celebrated global elements called The Gulf that was driving this air stream damn near nuts. Knew a wrong turn had been made somewhere around Norway if not Finland but had just a few minutes before sorted the tangled bearings so it wasn't so much aimlessness as being out of sorts that got sorted but just when it looked all sorted and the directions became clear, that's about the time the Arctic Circle particles of precipitation surrounded this air stream and took charge saying they needed its powers for a while and thus the Arctic Circle precipitation particles boldly boarded this air stream segment who was coerced to cease its idea about hooking up with Gulf and checking out the redheads of legend in Iceland or to at least suspend the dream of hooking with Gulf and checking out the redheads of legend in Iceland for as long as it would take to do the bidding of the Arctic Circle precipitation particle fleet and deliver them to a city set at a latitude they didn't often explore but thought they were overdue to look into ways to mount an offense designed to bring bitter harassment to the humans who inhabited that city set at that latitude.

The Arctic Circle precipitation particles signaled the stream to descend where the clouded covers were the most gray as the navigation crew sent word those clouded covers of gray meant the coordinates the commanders wanted, so the stream had no choice but was glad to get it over with, and waited until all the Arctic Circle precipitation particles poured from it and cursed its fate while squeezing in a prayer that asked it please not land in Reykjavik too late to get to checking out the redheads of legend in Iceland.

Anyway, the Arctic Circle precipitation particles knew their orders and thus went right away in the tactical enactment of a frontal assault - softening? these particles? oh no they did not observe the softening tactics - softening tactics belonged - the Antarctic particles, they were the softening experts back then, down there, and I don't see no reason they still would not be - and there was a reason the good lord set these two so far apart because they saw the world completely different than each other and - frigid worlds? that may be so. But buddy you better believe that's the only thing they had in common, and well, that's a whole other bunch of legends and tales - no these Arctic Circle particles meant to get right into the messy but serious business of annoying humans in the most impolite manner as possible; in this frontal assault the crewmembers trained to exert offensive manners set up in the shortest order weaponry designed to agitate the humans and began to propel blasts of really cold flecks and beads that were not snow nor were the flecks or beads outright ice, arguably occupying a blurred land falling oh so shy of full-blown frozen pellets - but they were definitely really cold beads.

So these volleys of really cold beads were blown from the Arctic Circle particle weaponry so they flew so fast they turned all but in an instant to sleet and the spraying sleet needles spat at faces that had come to the city's downtown unprepared or most were unprepared so they contorted their faces into masks bespeaking displeasure but some were better prepared for they'd come with heavier hoods but whoever they were the majority of the humans gladdened the Arctic Circle particle commanders not only by the way they contorted their faces into masks bespeaking displeasure but that this mere first wave caused the prepared and the unprepared alike to do all they could to protect their precious faces and ears from the wet bitter winds containing precipitation particles born for this one purpose, long ago, and far away, in the Arctic Circle.

But the Arctic Circle precipitation particle assault did not enjoy uniform success. This truth did not come to the commanders right away but waited until they whooped from the easy victory and traded high fives.

This truth had to do with a report that made a major's orange phone go buzz-buzz-buzz and the major's orange phone was for one of the biggest company leaders who'd led its company's spearhead team through one of many an undefended sleeve straight to borders of the city's breadbasket and they wasted no time in creating frosty frays and freezing frenzies and that leader leading his really big company carried within it the ability to make direct contact with the rearward echelon's major and his orange phone thanks to a special device and a secret code that when effected caused this major's orange phone to do the buzz-buzz-buzz like his orange phone that went buzz-buzz-buzz was buzz-buzz-buzzing just now and his orange phone going buzz-buzz-buzz had him hold his horses in the victory whooping because this wasn't a major who ever let himself whoop until certain he could sign his name to a mission accomplished statement; so this major kept himself from whooping like the others and held off on his high five and instead fetched the orange phone and then learned there was one human who seemed unaffected by the Arctic Circle particle precipitation assault.

This single human who seemed unaffected by all the wet cold particles openly attacking all they could attack, was a man named Eugene and there was nothing seemly about what the Arctic Circle particle commanders noticed but a most nude truth certifying that this Eugene showed zero reaction at the sleet in the wind that tried to make him contort his face into a pinch of displeasure as all the others had pinched theirs in displeasure.

Well the commanding elements of this precipitous particle armada from the Arctic Circle were unversed in the language of the land they came to annoy. Had these particles from the Arctic Circle thought to bring along a linguistics team they could see the lettering on the building from which the human Eugene had just escaped and they'd gain a grain of insight as to the possible reason their efforts fell impotent on this one human they could not know had the name of Eugene.

They did attempt an analytical exercise which shortly devolved - how did their analytical exercise dialogue pan out? Oh that's - don't know if I can quote word for word and I worry I'll butcher the original so as to call on the spirits of the speakers to come and deal out some restitutions. But you're right about the relevance. Hm. Looks like I'll have to do what I generally dislike doing - well because I like to try and do it without the texts. You're correct about that too. Oh I got the texts. Passed down from ages ago.

Maybe someone will go run to the kitchen and ask my Maggie to fetch it. Just tell her we're telling the Legend of the Titanium Spidery Things. She ought to know the volume, as she's read it enough times to the grandchildren and nieces and nephews and all she needs do is run upstairs and - lord no I don't mind admitting her voice is much more magical than mine.

Oh there we go. Let me fold up this pocketknife and someone set this old whetstone up on the mantle - lord but I reckon I got that blade sharp enough. Too bad it ain't tomato season. Just to slice one open. Yep. Just to slice one open.

Let's wipe a bit of the dust off. Let's see. Should be around page.... not that one, not that one - dum-de-dum-de-dum-de-dum-hm. Forgot it was this far back - oh that's a good one - well they're all good - depends on what the mood wants - okay here we go... the Legend of the Titanium Spidery Things... already did the prologue, already mentioned the redheads of legend in Iceland. Here we go: the dialogue between and concerning some of the commanding officers attached to the Arctic Circle Precipitous Particle Invasion.

Ahem:

At that time a voice meeker than most voices of that place, for it was a voice belonging to a lowly messenger particle, this voice meeker than most began to speak haltingly for being meekly it worried about taboos in speaking to superior particles, or worrying about taboos when speaking to superior particles led to the meekness in voice; but once it began to speak it just could not stop until unloading its entire backlogged blurt, so saying, "that white leafy-looking object bunched in that creature's claws. I wonder - it - it may be a significant - a significant item."

And the lowly messenger particle was made to see it worried for good reason because the nearest particle officer to hear that backlogged blurt was a stuffy snobby rule-crippled clump of ice flecks and a clump of ice flecks drunken too many poisons for too many years brewed from too many rules turned to the lowly messenger particle and spared not a prick from its needle cache when it sleeted an extra stern reply, "do the protocols of addressing your superiors elude you, oh underling particle?"

The lowly messenger particle then fell back into the familiar fear-prickled voice, and replied as though reply was the last thing it wished to do, replying, "I do beg for your pardon oh wise and stern clump of ice flecks. It's just that I noticed - and I - I meant no propriety infraction, but to only do what I can in service to our mission reason, oh my lord clump of ice flecks."

And that lordly clump of ice flecks would've rubbed the lowly messenger particle's nose in its mess had the Most Decorated Particle and the Most Decorated Particle's personal aide and clerk, a kindly-looking, harmless-seeming, particle adorned with two frosty bars, not entered the room just then and asked what was going on between these two.

Upon learning of the exchange, the Most Decorated Particle demonstrated why he was a a Most Decorated Particle beloved by all the particles except those few nursing grudges because they'd had to let go of their petitions and instead of castigating the lowly messenger particle castigated the clump of ice flecks - dismissing it with a headshake and a reminder of why they embarked on these missions and that was not to practice nonsense codes of etiquette but because of the joy of playing with so many weapons and tools and watching humans slip on ice or pull hoods around their faces or hold their heads not up but down. "That is why we do this. That is the only reason. No please take yourself into a brace of wind that will deliver you to the most rearward ranks and practice folding your snowy pajamas all you like and leave we who are assigned to enjoy ourselves in peace."

"If I may sir, I think I do see what the messenger particle tried to tell about - I mean the leaf which resembles the whiteness that often floats in our frigid seas off our coastal lands except crumpled or the lack of crumple meaning ours are never crumpled though they do sometimes crunch and crack which is completely unlike the crumple of the white leaf bunched in only one claw - white leaves are very rare and I am in agreement about the significance - how I wish we could rewind events and see how many of the humans we were able to so easily annoy were clutching white crumpled leaves in their claws."

"Hm yes it does resemble our world in that way - the leaf - your fast hand with allegorical connections never ceases to stun me if I can say it so - well I can't help but wonder if that white leaf - astute there too you are that a white leaf is a very rare thing - that white leaf bunched in the creature-human's claws - or the creature-human's one claw or one claw of the creature-human - I'm wanting to say it must possess a power greater than all our barrels are able to deliver - maybe it acts as a protective force field."

"Sir, we could apply further harassment to other creature-humans. Or resort to the Icicle Howitzers. And we do have the blizzard blaster."

He who spoke of the blizzard blaster meant those mighty vessels who floated far behind their front lines who bore the bulk of maneuvers.

Then the Most Decorated Particle lowered his slim cylindrical instrument which from afar could be mistaken for a clarinet but was hardly that for within it existed a lens capable of reaching distances no known particle eye could nakedly espy. And with his authoritative yet calm manner the Most Decorated Particle turned to the one who'd suggested icicle howitzers and blizzard blasters. The Most Decorated Particle then said to him, "in my professional estimation, to bust out the icicle howitzers for just one single sitting duck - the tactical style a.... shall we say a hotter commander may go for as many a hot young Arctic Circle Particle commander finds irresistible the glorious show those howitzers put on - and compared to the blizzard blasters the icicle howitzers are as average peppercorns are to habaneros. No we should not pull out an icicle howitzer much less call up such big equipment as the blizzard blaster just to see if their powers will sufficiently annoy this one human."