The Creature in Hillend Woods.

[piscatus absentis]

Some of our members might be described as characters and there?s no doubt that the biggest character is Big Sanny.  Big doesn?t begin to describe him, he?s enormous; a testament to a wholesale diet of emperor size fish suppers, a conveyor line of Chinese carry outs and industrial quantities of  bhoona lamb and chicken.  He?s up there with the best of the competition from the U.S.A. - the land of the lard. 

He never moves very far from his reinforced chair twenty five yards from the clubhouse.  A short waddle soon brings him to the necessary conveniences, well sugared tea and as many Mars Bars as he can afford.  Very occasionally he will visit another part of the loch as long as he can get a lift in the wheely boat with the front opening ramp.  I?m not sure if he?s ever actually caught a fish, in fact I?m not sure if there is any bait on his hook.  I have a feeling that he simply likes to get out and about in the fresh air and away from the wife and kids.   The kids are a bit of a mystery.  If you saw him you would realise that there are some physical obstacles to procreation and some obvious danger to the female participant; test tubes and syringes come to mind. 

Any way, to our tale.

One morning when the head bailiff arrived to open the clubhouse he found three very distressed laddies shivering in the doorway.  They had decided to spend the night on the loch but during the night had been frightened by a large animal that was growling and prowling around in the woods.  The bailiff passed this off as silly wee boys afraid of their own shadows.  And there the matter may have ended until another, and older and sober, member had a similar experience a few nights later.  This came to the ears of the great white hunters of Harthill.  Now these men are not African hunters with teams of native bearers or Indian hunters with elephants and mahouts, these are the backwoodsmen and redskins of Scotland (although more skilled) who can make a prize bull vanish under the eyes of an attentive farmer and a pool of salmon disappear even while closely watched by a dozen bailiffs.  Nothing that swims, flies, or runs and is edible and saleable is safe from them.

The visited the woods and found quantities of droppings and noted how the undergrowth had been trampled.  They also found a trail down to the loch where that the creature had plainly used to satisfy its thirst.  Their analysis of the droppings told them that this was a major carnivore but one that was beyond their experience.  Thoughts of a grizzly bear began to form.  So off they went to the Welfare Club and supped their pints of heavy and smoked their roll-ups while they drew up their plans.  Heavy gauge shotguns were borrowed and cartridges with the heaviest shot were acquired because they knew that this would be a dangerous adventure that could not be left to the unreliability of a rifle.

So, on the appointed night they were already in the woods before the bailiff had carried out his last run and locked up the boats and clubhouse.  They admitted that they were not only nervous but also covered in midgie bites for it was a warm and still night.  But these are hardy men and they settled down, as best they could, and waited for the creature.  Just after midnight they heard the first noise - a phht, phht, phht followed by plop, plop, plop and then a long savage sigh.  And again, and again.  And then the creature was on the move.  Checking that the weapons were loaded and the safeties off they began to crawl after it.  They moved like shadows following the creature that was heading to the water.  Could this be another Loch Ness monster they wondered.  Then it was at the loch side and slowly they eased themselves into position for a shot, for they knew that there would be no second chance -  second chance is dinner.  A lighter flared and a cigarette was lit!  Realising that someone was in danger and heedless of the risks to themselves they broke cover and called out a warning, ?you?re all right, we?ve got it covered?.

?Whit the f*****g hell ur you two daen?,  Big Sanny was heard to cry, ?kin a man fishin' a nightshift no get some privacy tae hae a shit in the wids noo?.

[Ian_M]

Another great read pa.  I was fair "grippit" by this one!

[Clan Chief]

Nice wan P.A.
How can you tell the front of a tree from the back of a tree?......
Well.....there is usually a big sh**e at the back  of a tree.