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Great write up Beav!

Let me add some background.


Chapter 1: Destiny

I’ve never known someone to use the unicorn emoji with such passion. In fact, until meeting you, I didn’t know there was a unicorn emoji. It was one of many firsts. Before meeting you, I’d never hunted out west. I’d never hunted elk. I’d never shot off a mountain top at another mountain top and I’d never been to the Portland Airport, which is a profound experience. PDX offers people watching rivaling even Anytown, USA’s public boat launch. It’s an amazing place.

Mid-October, I’d been in Northern New Hampshire for a PRS match and my truck was calling for DEF, short for Diesel Emission Fluid. I charted a course to the nearest Walmart. I’ve found it convenient to bop in through the automotive/tire service entrance, getting in and out without a fuss. That’s when I saw it, sticking out of a tri-wall flowing over with giant yellow teddy bears and plush pink horned whales, an adult human sized unicorn!

I dug through the heap, corralling its three unicorns. I’ve no idea who was responsible for putting these two pallets of massive stuffed animals in my path, but the end-cap adjacent the motor oil aisle was kismet.

Lining the three up, I closely inspected each for flaws, the color sequence of their manes and tails, for snout symmetry and for eye sparkle. This went on for some time and not only delayed my DEF refill, but drew considerable attention from other visitors to the motor oil aisle.

After weighing each for their attributes, I’d decided, this is the one.



On my way to the tire department register, I thought to myself, “What in the hell am I going to do with this giant Unicorn between now and when I get home? The truck is full of gear, most of which has to be shuffled to get at the other, the forecast is cold and gloomy—this is nuts. I’ll get one of these at my local Walmart next week.”

Unicorn returned to the herd...

Next week arrives and it’s time to go get Mark a gigantic Walmart Unicorn. Entering the local Super Walmart through the tire department, I search aisle after aisle, row after row, and there are no pallets of plush mythical beasts, none.

In a panic, I ask one Walmart associate after the next, “where are the big red boxes of stuffed animals?” Maybe they’re in the back. Maybe they haven’t put them out yet. When I finally connect with a woman, who I’m convinced knows what I’m talking about, she doesn’t know where they are. She sends me to every corner of the Walmart. Finally, my tireless persistence, hopeful dedication and desperate pleas convince her to look out back.

I wait anxiously for 20 minutes.

She returns with shrugged shoulders, empty handed.

Over the next three weeks I scour this and every other Walmart along my path, but there are no Unicorns.

Then the day after getting to Camp in PA, I head up to the Corry Walmart for a big grocery run. This is typical. On a whim, I roll my cart full of thin cut pork chops, pumpkin pies and broccoli to the intersection of the seasonal section and the automotive section. On a remote end cap, I find a single red tri-wall jettisoned on the remotest of end-caps.

My chest tightens.

I can feel my pulse race.

I can’t believe it, no unicorns.

Then, amidst a tangle of plush limbs and flippers pokes a nose, a unicorn nose!

I named her Destiny.