Re: New Contest...........TN's Best Liar!!!
Jack, I know James Bond. He and I are personal friends. You, sir, are no James Bond. You're more like James Belushi. LOL
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Some of you may have had unpleasant experiences with property owners. Usually I have no trouble because I'm such a likeable and easy going guy. Everybody in the Rubber Room would agree, no doubt, in that characterization of me. One day, I regret to report, I met a property owner from hell. Here's my story.
My metal detector is so finely tuned and technologically advanced, I can rely on it to find treasures that no one else here on TreasureNet can even imagine. So precisionally engineered is my machine, in fact, that I can find targets that were lost thousands of years ago. I recall one day, last week, when my machine really surprised me in its depth ability.
I was searching the grounds of an old occult meeting hall. There were all types of strange symbols on the walls and I just knew those symbols would lead me to a treasure. Swinging my coil just above the weeds in the parking area of the abandoned building, I got an extremely faint signal in my headphones. Turning at a 90 degree angle, I swung the coil over the same spot to determine whether the target was worth digging. No use digging up a piece of trash from the Archaic Period of the local Native Americans, I thought to myself. Getting a good hit again, although faint, I began to dig for the target.
After digging and checking the hole down to a depth of 8 miles, I felt I was getting close. Another 792 miles into the hole and I knew I'd find my quarry. It was getting hot in the hole so I stopped to wipe my brow. Just then, as I was leaning on my shovel, I heard a horrendous rumbling and looked down to see the earth give way to a firey hearth. The hearth was huge and although it was hot, I was not afraid. Suddenly a rather odd looking fellow stepped from the flames and inquired about my presence. Assuming he was just curious, and maybe the property owner, I did what I usually do in such circumstances.
I reached into my trash pocket and showed him what I had found thus far, "Just pulltabs and gum wrappers, so far - but my original target is nearby," I said in a slightly laughing voice. "Ahhhh, a treasure hunter," he growled and asked me if I knew a lady named Gypsyheart. "Why, yes, yes I do," I was able to stammer as his hot breath scorched my neck. "Good," he said, "I have been saving a place for her as my Queen - Queen of the Underworld. She's going to make a fine companion for me down here in the depths of HELL." Shocked, I dropped my shovel and tried to beat a hasty retreat. Alas, he reached out a clawed and ruby-red hand and grabbed me by my carpenter's apron. "Help yourself to my treasures, your Nastiness," I squeaked out. Unfortunately, he had another question for me and pulled me back to his roasty-toasty lair.
"You puny peon, I'm not done with you yet. Tell me," he shouted at me, "do you also know a man with the ridiculous name of Mighty AP?" Now fearing for my own safety and the future safety of two other TNetters, I lied to the crimson creton and exclaimed, "NO! I don't know anybody with such a silly name and wouldn't EVER want one of those digging tools he makes." Oops...suddenly realizing I had incriminated myself, I wriggled free of his hellacious grasp and made a beeline for the surface.
Huffing and puffing from the strenuous marathon back to the surface of the earth, I looked down the hole to see if maybe he or his henchmen were following me. Luckily, there was no indication they were hot on my tail. Quickly, I filled in the hole and tamped it down with my still-shakey foot. Looking up to see the strange symbols on the occult building's facade, I could now honestly say I had translated them into English:
Gateway to Hell - NO DIGGING. I learned my lesson the hard way that day - don't dig without permission.
As I gathered my gear and headed home for a cold beverage, I remembered that I had never found my original target. Not being a person who gives up easily, I turned the truck around and returned to the site of my near-death experience. There, lying on the ground near the hole, was a tiny round nail. It soon dawned on me that IT was the object of my pursuit and had been stuck on the underside of my coil all along - held fast with a piece of bubblegum tossed aside by some school child, no doubt, and inadvertantly afixed to my coil cover from the very beginning of my hunt. Only the heat of hades was able to melt the gum from the coil, and thus it became dislodged as I exited the hole.
Sadly, now realizing I had nothing to show for my efforts and yet had nearly become another unwilling disciple of the devil, I walked back to the truck. Heaven must have been smiling upon me that day, though, because I eyeballed a beautiful piece of jewelry just as I was about to climb into my truck.
Here are the pix that illustrate my story.
The Nail
The Eyeballed Jewelry
The Hell Hole
The Property Owner from Hell
Thank goodness I had my trusty little digital camera with me. You wouldn't have believed my story, I bet, had I not been able to photograph the highlights.
Oh, I have a little advice for Gypsyheart and Mighty AP: Behave yourselves because the devil himself has plans for you, and only through wise decisions can you avoid the eternal flames of his domain.
The next morning, I called KFB to ask him to help me make this post, but he had hit his head on something and couldn't remember any of the events of the previous day. I still have a cool find though, but it is pretty gross (like finding gold dentures and posting them or something). It is the sharpie that Clint Eastwood held while signing a 98-year-old-woman't teat. So here is my treasure from that day. I'm really glad KFB took a bunch of photos, or else no one would ever believe such a great treasure hunting story. Oh, and boy does that sharpie write good...
