August 8, 2008
Gerramy (Gerry to his friends) McButler glanced down at his right hand and noticed three large welts starting to form on his left arm where he has been pinching himself every few seconds in an attempt to wake himself up from this bizarre dream that was getting worse by the minute. It was bad enough that there was a damp draft finding it's way up his kilt and causing his tadger to shrink further inside it's hood, despite his snug briefs. But to add insult to injury, no one in this God forsaken place he now found himself in had ever heard of Coca Cola!
He was seated on a bench across a rough wooden table from this apparition named Jamie McFraser who had placed a glass of something that thought to pass for water in front of him after he had refused the whiskey McFraser was now pouring down his own throat. Glancing at the cloudy liquid before him, he was almost tempted to chance a shot of the whiskey, but his better judgment asserted itself and he picked up the water and drank it down, making a face.
McFraser: (jovially) I never heard of a Scotsman who dinna drink whiskey. You sure ye're Scottish?
GMcB: O' course ah am. Ma father was Irish, but ah'm a Scotsman, borne an' bred.
McFraser: Weel I never heard of an Irishman that dinna drink whiskey either!
McFraser looks him up and down, trying to suppress a grin.
McFraser: That's quite some outfit ye're wearing. Apart from the kilt, I dinna think I've ever seen one like it. Do ye walk around like that in the 21st century?
Jamie McFraser had confided in Gerry McButler that his own wife, Claire "Sassy Hack" Avoyant, was a time traveler just like he was, only she had entered 18th century Scotland through some druid-like stone formation high upon a hill instead of a gaudy, ornate mirror.
McButler had taken exception to the term gaudy in describing his treasured antique and proceeded to tell McFraser that he found the druid stone formation bit an overused plot device, frequently used in historical romances and B movies, still refusing to believe that he had actually traveled to the 18th century.
Catching a hint of amusement in Jamie's face, Gerry answers sarcastically.
GMcB: O' course ah don't wear a kilt wi' ma tennis shoes. Ah was just tryin' this one on tae see if it fit, cause ah'm wearin' it to a charity event. Ah dinna have time tae put on ma boots before ah slipped an' hit ma heid an' ended up in this bluidy nightmare.
|....a dinna have a hairy arse!|
McFraser: (getting exasperated) How many times do I ha to tell ye ye're no' sleeping? Slide yer arse across the bench an' see if ye dinna get twa or' three splinters stuck in yer hairy arse. That should convince ye ye're awake!
GMcB: Fer yer information, ah dinna have a hairy arse!
McFraser: Weel, hairy arse or no' yer still going to get splinters! Tis a fact o' life for Scots an' ye'd better toughen yers up a bit if ye're going to survive around here.
GMcB: (shifting uneasily in his seat) Well, ah'm no' plannin' on stayin' around very long. Ah'm due tae report fer a shoot in three weeks, so if this time travel thing is fer real, ah got tae find a way tae get back. (suddenly frowning) Besides Noly will starve tae death if ah dinna get back to feed her an' she needs tae go out fer a walk.
McFraser: Noly yer wife? Dinna think I've ever heard that name before.
GMcB: Wife? No. Ah'm not married. Noly's ma baby!
McFraser: (startled) Ye got a baby without a wife? Ye mean they figured out how to do that in the 21st century?
GMcB: No, ye dolt! Noly is ma pug. An' although they've cloned some sheep an' other things, ah'm no' aware o' them cloning a human yet.
McFraser: (fascinated) An' what, pray tell, is a pug and what is this cloning thing?
GMcB: A pug is a little dog, o' course. It looks a little bit like a bull dog, but smaller and cuter. At least ma Noly is.
McFraser: Sounds kind o' strange for a grown man to be calling a dog his baby, dinna ye think?
GMcB: (testily) Not where ah come from. Cute little dogs are chick magnets. Plenty o' single guys got em. George Clooney calls his pug "sweety snookums."
McFraser: An' who might this George Clooney be.
GMcB: Another actor.
McFraser: Oh. Guess there must be lots o' actors in yer clan. Do ye sing and dance too?
GMcB: (shrugs his shoulders) Depends on who ye ask.
McFraser: Weel I'm afraid to ask what a "chick magnet" is.
GMcB: A chick is a girl. Girls like cute little dogs an' when they see a guy wi' one, they want to pet it. An' if ye're really lucky an' play yer cards right, they'll end up pettin' ye too.....if ye get ma drift?
McFraser: Now petting I understand. Sassy Hack has filled me in on the courtin' rituals o' the 20thth century an' accordin' to her, pettin' was a big thing fer girls who dinna go all the way wi' a date.
GMcB: (grinning) Well, the kind o' pettin' ah'm talking about goes a little further in the 21st century.
McFraser: (laughing) To my way o' thinking, I dinna think much has changed in the sexual encounters between the sexes. Things can get pretty hot around here pretty fast.
GMcB: (laughs) Well ah got tae tell ye that that's the most interestin' thing ah've heard ye say since ah got here. Perhaps it bears leukin' intae if ah'm goin' tae be here fer a while. Ah'm only sorry ah dinna bring any condoms wi' me. (brightening) Ye got any tae spare?
McFraser: Condoms? What in bloody hell are they?
To be continued (hopefully). Next: The Bargain
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction that exists only in the twilight zone of the writer's mind. Any and all resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
Songs out of tune, the words always a little wrong...Canzoni Stonate