Chapter 2.

"It is revealed that the camel can talk and so can the geese, oh but I'm getting ahead of myself..."

  

 

The sun was shining down from high above the ground.  It shone brightly, like a giant source of light hanging in the sky.  William sat thinking about something.  He was deep in thought.  The depth with which he thought nearly outweighed the breadth with which he lived, and was almost greater than the width with which he viewed the scene that scenically surrounded him on all sides. 

 

He was standing in his very own lawn, which made up the greater part of his yard ‑‑ the very yard which, not so very long ago, he had very quite by accident, driven his camel through.  Only then it wasn't a camel at all.  It was a truck.  This proved to be a beneficial reality  in the way of driving, but quite greemus in the amount of damage that it caused to the house. 

 

The camel, as Bill affectionately called the camel that had once been what was once his truck, stood eyeing William viciously.  It wasn't that the beast disliked her master or cast her vicious glance faster for any factor other than spite for the fact that she was once a truck, it was just that the beast was, at least in part, partly insane with pain from the crash it had had with the man in the ridiculous sounding turban.  Also, it should be noted at this time that the beast really wasn't a she at all, but was actually, in fact, a he. 

 

So the camel, eyeing William viciously all the while, snorted loudly to bring Bill's attention to two of the too often mentioned intentions of beasts of that nature.  It was hungry and it was thirsty.  However, the other, and numerically mentioned, third,  intention of its previously mentioned call for attention was the stench in the smouldering heap of the demolished, smashed, broken part of Bill's house.  The smoke billowing from the rubble was now in full billow and in full view of the neighbors that Bill didn't have.  At the moment, Bill was glad that he didn't have any neighbors, but later he was quite pleased by it. 

 

In my narration, I failed to mention that the fourth, so far unmentioned, intention of the beast's call for attention was the incredible, unbearable, uncomfortable, and generally displeasing pain that was now causing the camel a considerable amount of pain. 

 

Bill realized suddenly, though far too late, that the camel was being caused a considerable amount of pain and, feeling the need for some shorter, more coherent and altogether less confusing and complicated sentences, Bill stopped this one here.  Bill felt sorry for the camel.  If only it had been a bird or a crocodile or a badger it wouldn't have had to have been a camel.  But it was a camel, even if it was what was once Bill's truck, and, with any luck, Bill could help the beast of burden with it's unfortunate burden.  This was the burden that was laid on Bill's heart, where it sat burdening him until at last he could bear it no longer.  "Remove this burden from my heart!" he cried in a loud burst.  He had intended to cry out in a loud voice, but a burst would just have to do.  "Remove this burden from my heart ‑ let it depart and start another life in some part of the county not smart enough to be aware of its presence!"  Bill cried.  The camel sighed.  Bill cried.  The camel sighed.  Bill cried.  The camel sighed.  Bill stopped.  The camel sighed. Bill looked straight into the camel's eyes.  The camel sighed.  "This is getting monotonous" Bill said prophetically. 

 

So the afternoon passed, with the camel passing gas...WHOOPS! that's not supposed to be in there!!!!...with the camel sighing and Bill eying him and saying things like "this is getting monotonous" and sometimes muttering "this is getting monotonous." 

Bill had no sooner uttered his mutterings when to his utter shock a flock of geese hovered overhead and uttered these three words:  "We want more." 

 

"You want more what?"  asked Bill. 

 

"More words to", the geese replied back. 

 

"More words to...WHAT??" asked William. 

 

"to finish our....  OH NEVER MIND!!! ‑ we want to finish our sentence!"

 

"Oh ‑ go ahead", Bill replied back, "I don't know who though up the idea of using only three words anyway." 

 

 

"We have come to take our baby brother with us"  the geese said.

 

"Ok."  Packard replied back.

 

"Good.  This was easier than we thought" the geese said and thought almost simultaneously.

 

"Where is he?"  Bill asked politely.

 

"There." the geese said, pointing as best they could with their wings while trying to maintain their hovering, at the camel.

 

Bill was confused. 

 

"There."  the geese said, pointing as best they could with their wings while trying to maintain their hovering, at the camel.

 

"Now don't you start getting monotonous."  Bill called in a disgusted burst.

 

"We can't help it," the geese replied back, "you're stupid."

 

"And you're rude!"  Bill shouted angrily.

 

"and you're pointlessly engaging fowl who are not even known to you in a foolish debate of equally plausible viewpoints while I lie here dying" the camel sighed, with much less viciousness in his voice than usual.

 

Seeing the camel lying there so helplessly dying, a sudden wave of grief swept over Bill so strongly that he was tempted to run in the house and get his surfboard, but he knew that would not be appropriate.  Also, upon reflection, he remembered that he, in fact, didn't even own a surfboard, moreover,  upon further reflection he furthermore realized and remembered that he was nowhere near, or even close to, a body of water of a  size large enough to surf on.  He then realized that this second reflection was of no consequence because the whole point of fetching the surfboard that he didn't have, was to ride the wave of grief, which even if he had a surfboard to run in and fetch, would probably have passed by then or had too many body surfers in it to be able to safely menauver a surfboard without hurting anyone.  This and many other things not worth mentioning passed through William's mind before they left and he was left without them ‑‑ seeing as they had passed and all.  Suddenly realizing that all this reflection, and, on the same merit, this entire paragraph, had proved to be a fruitless waste of time, William quickly reverted his attention to the situation at hand  ‑‑ wondering all the while if spell check would catch the mispelling of the word maneuver that he had thought of quite some time ago.      

 

 

Bill Packard - and his adventures with the camel

Chapters 1, 2, 3 & 5.  (The “lost manuscript” Chapter 4 has to date not been recovered)

 

LIMITED COLLECTOR'S SPECIAL EDITION COPY WITH STRANGE RECTANGLES

*due to the process by which this special edition was printed, the strange rectangles do not appear

  

 

Chapter 1.

"William meets the camel"

 

                Packard was feeling rather low, rather like a freight train actually.  Yes, he felt rather like a freight train... in a rain storm ‑‑ a spring rain storm that is.  Packard was certainly feeling low, as he stood there fueling his lowly feelings that only served to fuel his desire to fuel up his truck and take a long drive somewhere....anywhere.  He really didn't care where ‑ anywhere out there where there were no stairs and he didn't have to share the scenery with anyone but his truck.  Somewhere with  long winding roads with road signs ‑‑ lots and lots of roads signs.  But no traffic lights.  That's what he aimed to do and reckoned to do and, in one sense, chose and decided to do.  In one sense...but in another sense he sensed that his senses weren't worth ten cents and that if he really had any sense at  all he would sense the scent of misleading senses misleading him down tricky and misleading, bad paths that were not good at all. 

 

As William pulled into the yard he had a strange feeling that he had seen this scene before. Then he realized that he indeed actually had seen this scene before because it was his very own yard that he owned and everything.  Then the startling realization hit him like a train ‑‑ like a big freight train...in a race car...in red knickerbockers...  HE SHOULDN'T BE PULLING INTO THE YARD!!! HE SHOULD BE PULLING INTO THE DRIVEWAY!!!!!  But the sudden realization was realized too late.  He roared his way through his front yard, pausing only briefly to crash through his living room, and then proceeded to roar loudly through his backyard, which was back behind the front yard, as was the custom in these small suburban neighborhoods.  "Darn these small suburban neighborhoods" William's brain nearly thought out loud ‑ "if only they weren't so SMALL and SUBURBAN!!!!"  William didn't have time to suddenly realize that he didn't know what suburban meant, because he suddenly slammed right into a man sipping bourbon ‑‑ and wearing a particularly ridiculous sounding turban.  It sounded ridiculous, but it didn't look all that bad.  It even looked pretty nice once in while, when it wasn't too busy staying on top of the man's head. 

 

The man was pretty angry at William for slamming into him like that.  He said something about "not appreciating it at all"  and then muttered that he "didn't appreciate it at all".  William tried to reassuringly assure the man, then reassure him, that he was sure he didn't intend to slam into him like that and that he certainly would never intend to do it again.  The man said he appreciated that very much and that it was quite "agreeable" of William to say such things and that he ought to say such things more often.  William quickly agreed, though very slowly so as to save time.

 

Then they parted as the man disentangled himself from the front of William's truck, which had now turned into a camel and spit at the man viciously, laughing viciously all the while.  William chastised the camel sternly, but it did little good as the beast realized he served his master only out of spite for the fact that he used to be a truck.