It was about this time that Pooh showed up, pushing a surivial wheelbarrow filled with somewhat soiled rifles.

“Look what I found behind the hedge,” said Pooh. “Aren’t they pretty? They all have little flowers on them. What are they?”

“Tomato stakes, “ said shaman. “Nosmo here just announced he’s taking up gardening.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” said Nosmo. He took the wheelbarrow from Pooh and disappeared down the path.

“He doesn’t seem happy, “ said Pooh.

“Nosmo is not much of a gardener,” said the shaman.

“I trust you had a pleasant time getting the sun up this morning?”

“It was a bit of a struggle,” replied the shaman. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“That sounds painful.”

“It can be. I am trying to figure out what I’ll say at the occasion of my ten-thousandth post. Any ideas?”

“Good Evening Ladies and Germs. . .”

“There aren’t that many ladies. The germ thing ain’t all that funny this year.”

“Before I forget,” interrupted the shaman. “We’re due up for pancakes at Regin and Kira’s in a bit. They specifically invited you.”

“Will there be syrup?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I love Lebanese pancakes.”

“Lebanese pancakes! What gives you that idea/”

“Well you’re the one that told me they were Lebanese.”

“No, no, no, silly bear. That wasn’t ‘Lebanese.’ I called them Lesbians.”

“Oh, sorry. What is the difference?”

“And they’re not Lesbians either. We found out differently, remember?”

“We did? My stuffing doesn’t hold these things so well.”

“Oh, I thought it strange when you said you dreamed of Lebanese pancakes drenched in syrup. That never did make sense.”

“Yeah, you got that all mixed up, Pooh.”

“My apologies.”

“So if they’re not Lebanese or Lesbians, what are they?”

“Out of work Valkyries.”

“Why are they out of work?”

“COVID.”

“How’s that?”

“All the deaths nowadays are being attributed to COVID, so we’ve been short on heroes lately, at least oficially. There’s been a downturn on traffic going to Vahalla, so they got laid off.”

“Do we need to wear masks?”

“Hardly. How would we be able to lick the syrup?”

“Just asking.”


Genesis 9:2-4 Ministries Lighthearted Confessions of a Cervid Serial Killer