I hope that you like nice fresh Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan fiction. I continue with Arthur Scott Bailey’s Sleepy-Time Tale, The Tale of Grumpy Weasel. The whole of the MiSTing should be at this link, although I don’t promise to do the whole story. We’ll see whether I do.
The story so far: all the animals in Pleasant Valley agree that Grumpy Weasel is grumpy and a weasel. Young Master Robin escaped his plans, but will every animal be so fortunate?
Crow’s riff about ‘flord digorznip’ owes a lot to a Robert Benchley essay warning about speaking improper English. I recommend a fair bit of reading Benchley.
TOM: Chapter One, Part Two, Part Two, Part Two.
> HUNTING A HOLE
JOEL: Where the rain gets in …
CROW: You said that.
> Usually Grumpy Weasel did not stray far from a
> certain corner of Farmer Green’s wood lot.
TOM: How much wood does Farmer Green have?
JOEL: A lot?
> He preferred to
> hunt where he knew the lay of the land.
CROW: Pretty sure it just hangs out on top of the bedrock underneath?
> And since he liked
> especially to hunt along old stone walls,
JOEL: Those *new* stone walls aren’t good for anything.
> he picked out a
> long stretch of old tumble-down wall that reached through the
> woods towards Blue Mountain.
TOM: Now why would you build a wall to keep the mountains out?
CROW: West Virginia didn’t and look what happened to them.
> He picked it out as his very own hunting ground and
> never asked permission of Farmer Green, either.
JOEL: Grumpy Weasel fighting back against the Man.
> Now, near the lower end of this wall—the end toward
> the pasture—
TOM: Don’t mistake which end is toward the pasture, it *will* be on the final exam!
> a fat person known as Mr. Meadow Mouse
> sometimes wandered.
CROW: Mr Meadow Mouse sleeps in the park, shaves in the dark —
JOEL: We did that too.
CROW: Why is every name doing this to us?
> But he never visited that spot without
> first inquiring whether Grumpy Weasel had been there the day
TOM: Why wait a day between asking and going to the place?
> Mr. Meadow Mouse had learned somehow that Grumpy
> usually moved on each day to a different part of his hunting
CROW: I’m going to guess he walked, maybe ran to other places?
TOM: Maybe he has a Weaselmobile? Or a tiny helicopter?
JOEL: A series of weasel-bearing trampolines scattered across the yard.
> He was surprised, therefore, to meet Grumpy Weasel
> face to face one time, when he felt sure that that surly
> rogue must be a good safe distance away.
CROW: At the tavern, trying to get the bard to stop picking fights with farmers.
> Mr. Meadow Mouse cast a quick glance around. But he
> could see no place to hide.
TOM: The hiding place was hidden?
JOEL: It does one thing and it does it well.
> So there was nothing for him to
> do but to put on a bold front. He bowed pleasantly enough,
CROW: Everything else has failed, so let’s try courtesy!
> though he was trembling a little, and remarked that it was a
> fine day
JOEL: 35 dollars and two points on his license.
> and that he hoped Grumpy was feeling happy—all of
> which was quite true.
CROW: Yes, it is truly quite.
> Grumpy Weasel glowered at Mr. Meadow Mouse, for that
> was his way of replying to a kindly greeting.
TOM: Ugh, don’t talk to me before I’ve had my morning mouse.
CROW: Arthur Morning Mouse, last seen in The Tale Of Solomon Owl.
> "You’ve not come here to hunt, I hope," he growled.
JOEL: ‘Cause you’re not wearing orange, I’ll have to ticket you.
> "I’ll have you know that this is my private hunting ground
> and I allow no poaching."
TOM: How do you feel about scrambling or omelette-making?
> Mr. Meadow Mouse hastened to explain that he was
> merely out for a stroll.
CROW: [ As Meadow Mouse ] Look, there’s one now! [ CROW leans out of frame, going ‘Whoosh!’. ]
> "I never hunt," he declared. "Of course,
JOEL: ‘Course, I am hunting for an easier way of life, but aren’t we all? Hah ? Ha ha? Ha? … Uh … ‘
> if I happen
> to see a tiny seed I may stop to eat it. But that’s all."
TOM: Got him on a technicality, that’s grazing, not hunting.
> "You’d better be careful what you say!" Grumpy Weasel
CROW: You don’t want to accidentally say something like ‘Flord digorznip flompty hoopnay’, since that’s nonsense.
> "Unless I’m mistaken, you were hunting something the
> moment you saw me. You were hunting a hole."
JOEL: Oh, you can’t get a hole this time of year, they’re all hibernating.
> Mr. Meadow Mouse gasped slightly. He hardly knew what
> to say.
CROW: ‘I wasn’t hunting *a* hole, I’d take *any* hole.’
> "Be very careful where you go around here!" Grumpy
> Weasel warned him. "The holes in this stone wall are all
TOM: The stone wall itself is the Monolith aliens’, so, attempt no landings there.
> I shouldn’t want you to use a single one of them
> without my permission."
CROW: [ As Meadow Mouse ] ‘Oh, I’m okay in all the others, though?’
> Mr. Meadow Mouse assured him that he wouldn’t dream
> of trespassing.
TOM: No trepanning, now, that just makes more holes for Grumpy Weasel.
> "And these holes among the roots of the trees—they
> are mine too," Grumpy Weasel snarled.
JOEL: Well now Grumpy sounds like he’s aggrandizing.
CROW: Yeah, some of those holes are historically part of the Badger-Mink Commonwealth’s.
> "Oh, certainly! Certainly!" Mr. Meadow Mouse cried.
TOM: I guess?
> He was so quick to agree that for once Grumpy Weasel couldn’t
> think of anything more to find fault about.
CROW: [ As Grumpy ] ‘Give me a minute, I just woke up.’
> "I’ll let you crawl into a few of the smaller holes
> in the stone wall, if you’ll be careful not to hurt them," he
> offered grudgingly.
TOM: How do you hurt a hole?
JOEL: Same way you hurt anyone, run roughshod over its fillings.
> Mr. Meadow Mouse made haste to thank him.
CROW: [ As Grumpy ] ‘Oh, oh, I can’t have haste anymore. Too much sugar too close to bed.’
> He said, however, that he thought he would wait till
> some other time.
TOM: That’s the sort of thing it’s easy to say when you’re in 1915.
> "There’s no time like the present," Grumpy Weasel
CROW: That thought is the only thing that’s kept me going lately.
> "To tell the truth, I want to see if you can
> squeeze through as small a hole as I can."
JOEL: [ As Meadow Mouse ] ‘Mr Weasel are you hitting on me?’
[ To continue … ? ]
5 thoughts on “MiSTed: The Tale of Grumpy Weasel, Chapter 4”
TOM:(As Andy Kaulfman) Here I Come to save my day! That means that Meadow Mouse is on the way!
There is seriously something in this book that makes every character’s name a song cue. I don’t understand it.
TOM: (As Curly Howard) Sointenly!
CROW: (As Moe Howard) Why I oughta…
GYPSY’S VOICE: Boys! Boys! No stooging in the theater!
JOEL: Gypsy’s right,guys…remember the “ram the RAM chip” incident.
I like this suggestion of a terrible backstory of Stoogery, yes.