With my tummy satiated on lizard, I decided to travel further into the wilderness of Table Rock country. What I found was nothing short of a nightmare.

After hiking a considerable distance, and scaling a particularly steep granite rock, I accidentally stumbled upon a herd of hungry spiders.

Yes, I said spiders.

And to my unlucky astonishment they were not the small, squish with your foot variety.

No, I could never be that fortunate. But the again, if I was, I’d never have interesting stories to tell.

But anyway, back to the spiders at hand, or rather, ten times the size of my hand.

Frozen half in terror and half in awe, I thought about turning tail and running like hell, but then one of the Enormous Eight Legged Freaks turned one of his billion eyes in my general direction and spotted me.

Drat.

“Aww, lookie here, friends, we have a visitor.”

I had no idea I could understand Spider. They had never taught me that in The University of Hell.

“What? Me? No, I was . . . just . . . passing through. Don’t mind me,” I said as I turned to shimmied back down the way I had come.

“Oh, do not leave us Maniac Gone Awry, we have yet to speak to one another.”

I stopped.

“You . . . you . . . know my name?”

The biggest of the spiders began to approach me on his eight rather creepy legs.

“Maniac, you insult me. Of course I know your name. You are known far and wide around these parts. ”

“I am?”

“Now you insult yourself Maniac.”

“I’m . . . sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Maniac.”

I didn’t know what else to say – so I smiled.

“My name Maniac, is Borgous and this is my tribe. And we’re hungry.”

Gulp.

“We were going to split a lizard we spotted earlier, but it seems someone else got to him first.”

“I, uh, really?”

“Yes, Maniac. Someone did,” the monstrous spider grinned. “And now that we have lost our supper, we need to have it replaced.”

“Of course you do, Borgous.”

“That’s Mighty Borgous to you, Maniac.”

“Yes, Mighty Borgous. What do you suggest?”

“Well, you, unless you have another idea.”

Another gulp.

“Mighty Borgous, I’m really not that tasty. Not even a dash of salt could make me edible for any species – especially as one as great as yours.”

“And how would you know that.”

“Oh, it was published it Maniac Weekly last October.”

“And who was the author?”

“Well, um, me . . .”

“Oh really? What gives you such knowledge?”

“Simple. No one but me could be so knowledgeable about me. I know myself best.”

“Good point, I guess. But who or what else will my tribe and I have for dinner then if we cannot dine on you?”

“Well, Mighty Borgous, there is a path just over that ridge,” I said and pointed to where I knew the Table Rock path was. “Just go sit and wait over there. A traveler will appear before long. I promise.”

Mighty Borgous and his tribe deliberated and then bid me farewell, being sure to tell me that I was very lucky that a dash of salt would not make me an agreeable dinner. And on that note they marched toward the path I had pointed out.

Before long, as I walked in the opposite direction, I thought I heard the screams of innocent hikers, but perhaps it was the sound of some strange new species of bird I have yet to discover.

Yes, and that is what I will continue to tell myself after I watch the 11 o’clock news tonight. It was a bird. A strange and fascinating bird.

The Ladies Lizard of the Audubon Swamp tried his best to avoid me for several weeks. He did the best a lizard could do, but I, Maniac Gone Awry, did better!

I got word from one of my contacts that he had been spotted in the upstate of South Carolina. So, as soon as Nick at Nite finished airing another rerun of Mork and Mindy, I took off after the cheap bastard. After all, he owed me at least one good wish, whether or not he wanted to give it to me.

I was half way up Table Rock Trail and rather out of breath when I saw him.

As pretty as could be, he was laying beside the mountain river, relaxing on a prepared pile of fallen leaves. Very carefully I tiptoed up behind him and placed my hand above his green lanky body. But before I could snatch him his eyes popped open and he spoke.

“Maniac, you really must find better ways to spend your time.”

“What?” He had caught me off guard.

“Imagine all the things you could have accomplished had you not been trying to find me.”

“That doesn’t matter. You owe me a wish. And a good one.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“No. No, I don’t. You had your two wishes. I granted them.”

“Exactly, two wishes. What kind of idoit grants only two wishes?”

“I’m not an idiot, Maniac. And I told you that I was no genie. I am a lizard. The Ladies Lizard of the Audubon Swamp and I only grant two wishes. That is just how it works. Take it or leave it.”

“But . . but . . . you . . . why in the hell am I arguing with you?! You’re just a lizard!”

And that is when I sorta went what they call a little psychotic.

By looking at the above picture you can only imagine how Mr. Lizard spent his last few minutes on beautiful planet Earth.

It was the most wonderful, fulfilling lunch I had ever eaten.

I came across a field of sunflowers mostly by chance the other day, and decided to investigate.

What I thought was a field of sunflowers ended up being a field of condominiums inhabited by a score of Monarch butterflies and a few rather menacing looking bumble bees.

They were all pretty perturbed at the fact that I was A) not invited, B) that I had not knocked(even though I swore that I had never seen a door), and C) that I was neither a Monarch butterfly or a bumble bee.

After much conversation about how rude I was, I convinced one of each species to pose for a picture. I assured them that I was a professional and that taking pictures of such beautiful creatures had been my calling. I don’t know if they believed me or not. Probably not.

Ms. Monarch came first, and she was a little shy. She demanded that I take her picture through her kitchen window. At first I argued this. I told her that I would not be able to capture her essence, but she wouldn’t allow any thing else. She said something about it not being proper with her being an unmarried Monarch and all or something to that effect. I wasn’t really paying attention because a certain, impatient bumble bee was eying my bent over beehind(sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

After taking Ms. Monarch’s picture, I bustled on over to Mr. Bumble Bee’s residence. He was buzzed(that’s pissed in Bee if you’re wondering) and it was rather obvious, but he still offered me a thimble of honey. It tasted a lot like sunshine, which is very good by the way. If you’ve never sampled it, you should take a side trip to the Sun sometime in the near future. The sun itself is a sight to see. But anyway, he buzzed some directions at me and I did strictly as I was told, afraid that if I did anything other than instructed, I would be screeching in agony while I smashed the hell out of one temperamental bee. And with a quick “click”, mine and Mr. Bumble Bee’s short acquaintance came to end.

As I strode away from the lot of Sun Flower condominiums, I scratched my head thinking nothing weirder could possibly happen. But as I usually am, I was sadly mistaken.

One of the, I’ll call them houses, stretched out in front of my path, and asked for a word with me. I obliged, for I had never had a house talk to me before.

“Before you go,” the sun flower condominium said, “take a picture of me.”

“A picture of you?”

“Yes. Would that be a problem?”

“Well, no . . . it’s just that I’ve never been propositioned by a house is all. It’s a first.”

“Ah . . .”

“May I ask why?”

And her answer was this.

“I am more beautiful and complex than that of my tenants, but you must get close to see. I am not a single flower, but a thousand flowers that create one.”

And with another simple “click”, I continued along the path and crested the hill.

In this darkness I find that I am but a flame that flickers in the wind.

Fragile I am.

Alone I know I am not.

At my core a blistering blue hue burns. My soul.

It encases me. Protects me. But slowly melts from me. It shows my age and reveals stories long forgotten. It is what makes me beautiful and strong.

My life.

In this darkness I find that I am but a flame that flickers in the wind.

And the sole pirate sets sail to the land of the Mysterious and Misplaced. Not knowing the hardships he must face, nor the challenges of the land, without distress, nor fear, he treaded into troublesome waters. He arrived at the land in dismay, but content. He looked at his surroundings: the grey-blue water that encompassed him, the alluring land that lay in front, the mountains sitting hauntingly in the distance, and the sandy floor that stood beneath him. He gazed at the sand, and the intricate pieces of rock destroyed by the ever waking sea. Beside of him he picked up a small twig, and with grace wrote the reason for why he has traveled….

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABE!

-You have been plundered by Captain Phil… savvy?