Dear Mister Ed

I useta think there was’nt much I never seen at least the once, but boys-a-boys did I come in fer some surprize this week.

It started rite at crowpiss Monday mornin’ with the sound of a hellacopter goin’ whap-whap-whap over the bottom end of the island.

It come in real low like it was fixin’ to land but jest hung there like a draggin’ fly fer a spell, then made a harepin turn to the left and whapped off into the wild blue.

Truth to tell, I did’nt take kindly to all that rackit first thing in the ayem, but it was young Bruce that reely got his nickers in a twist.

When the chopper arrived he lit outta the house pokin’ his shirt in his genes as he skitter’d off down the hill like a cat with his tale afire.

Next time I seen ‘im was near lunch time, when the golf cart pulls up at the cottage hime and Emma-Lee lives in, loaded from stem to gudjin with brown paper shoppin’ bags crammed fit to bust with somethin’ kinda greeny-gray.

Now I ain’t normally what you wud call a nosey Parker, but all this strange comin’ and goin’ did set me to wonder what the Sam Hill the fella was up to now.

Jest on a hunch I moseyed down to the govamint side of the island where I seen Bruce a few weeks back cuttin’ down his tommata plants.

And there it was. Nothin’. No plants, no garbidge-bag shed, jest a big round patch of nothin’, like one of them crop circkles they say space peepul make whilst we’re sleepin’.

All on a sudden it all made scents. That’s why the hellacopter was there. Checkin’ out where some Nerviss Nelley thot they seen a UFO the nite before.

Ain’t it amazin’ what some folks will beleave? I reckon its from too much coffee and not enuff shut-eye.

Speakin’ of folks that don’t get no rest, that fits Eva The Widdow down to a tea.

Ever since she popped the qweschun on Unkle Walt shes been abuzz day and nite with plans fer the big weddin’ fesstivitys. Between that and her work as a day traitor, shes got the fone stuck to her head pretty much full time.

(Bye the bye, in case you was wonderin’ Darrol, I never did take up the day tradin’ thing. I was fixin’ to start with some of that cheep NorTell stalk, but some feller named Erik and his son went and picked up the hole kitten caboodle.)

Anyways, Eva told Walt she wants the weddin’ all over and done in a cuppla weeks. “If we mean to get matched afore we’re dispatched” she says “then we’d best shake a leg”.

So far all shes let slip on the plans is that us and some of her best-ever pals will set sale on her monster boat.

After that, she says, is fer her to know and us to find out.

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