Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Friday, 17 June 2022

The Phantom Of The Airfield

 


Scott landed my fighter plane without
a scratch even though one of the
wheels fell off during the
flight. 

The result should have
been a wrecked plane… but
Super Dave came to rest without a scratch!

Scotty is a gifted RC
pilot.
The Ghost of Keev could not
have done any better.

Scotty The Retard is a deeply troubled young man. He was star crossed at birth and born with issues that required medication. He got fed into the Canadian neoliberal public school system and they cemented his dismal future with more diagnoses of other issues - so, more drugs. If the neurochemical war in his cranium wasn’t bad enough, Scott developed an unhealthy interest in recreational pharmacology. More drugs. He got into a lot of trouble as a juvie and got ensnarled in that govt. run rehabilitational fuster cluck. Prison looked to be his next step… 

When he turned 17 he decided to straighten out, get his poop in a group, and fly right. But years of drugs, legal and illegal, had done their thing. One of the guys at the field mentored Scott, and he started spending his money on RC airplanes instead of drugs. He does odd jobs as he can in our sick economy but gets by with help from his folks, and his mentors at the club.

As you can imagine, he stumbles once in awhile with the odd setback here and there. Even I help out with Scott by buying used RC junk off him and listening to him when he talks. His mentors at the club are great but they are better at talking than listening, and Scot loves to talk. 


We were sitting around bullshitting as the evening set in and he was complaining about the Usual Suspects. There are a lot of elderly seniors at the club and they are crotchety, miserable sonsabitches that want to make everyone else miserable too. We had the same thing at the rod and gun club too: our executive loaded up with ornery old goats who did nothing but fight with each other using the gun club as a weapon in their idiotic childish feuds. Everyone had enough one year and the gun club voted them all out and elected people that actually wanted to further the sport and the organization’s interests. The gun club today is far better off… but at Stubfart Airfield… The Velcro Shoe Gang rules the roost!

Back during the lethal Great Chinkypox Pandemic, the Velcro Shoe Gang consulted the gubbimint and asked to shut the club down until the Covid monster had been appeased and went away. Permission was graciously granted, and the old bastards changed the locks, chained up the gate, gleefully put up warning and quarantine signs, high fived each other… and waited for the membership to flip out. 

One day, they drove by to make sure nobody was violating the new rules… and the gate was wide open! Someone had cut the lock off and thrown it away!!! Not only that - their wonderful signs got torn down and the perp actually shat all over the biggest one! The Velcro Shoe Gang was outraged! They demanded that the perp come forward. They scraped some of the shit up and demanded that the RCMP do s DNA test. The bemused officers told them they’d get right on it! Then they set up an anonymous snitch line so that if anyone knew anything or used the field during lockdown… you could call in and tattle.

So I’m relating this tale of woe to Scotty… and he gets the stupidest look on his face…? And then… I figured it out. “You magnificent bastard,” I accused, “You’re the Phantom Chitter!!!” Scotty was almost choking on suppressed laughter. “Holy shit,” I cursed, “I shoulda known it was you!!! Who else would be ignorant and stupid enough to do such a thing?” (Besides me of course). Scotty was red as a beet with embarrassment and mirth.

I think Scotty would make an excellent Prime Minister. Crime doesn’t stick to him, he’s a bit of a ‘tard … but unlike the current poseur… his heart is in the right place, and he knows how to handle tyrants.

😂👍



5 comments:

  1. Good job Scotty!

    The trouble is that every club has a group of querulant old bastards who bitch about everything and do more harm than good. Not every club has a 'Scotty', but they should have several.

    Along the same lines we had one large gun club change executive officers. All of 'em got replaced, and a good thing, too.

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  2. Scotty sounds like a great kid :)

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  3. Scotty for president! Or PM, whatever. If you don't put him to good use, we could certainly use an upgrade in our national stubfart political elites. Great story, made my day!

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  4. Thanks Glen. A tale worthy of Mark Twain. And although Twain freely admitted that he never let facts get in the way of a good story, I find your tale perfectly plausible.
    I'm deeply envious of your flying field. Manicured like a golf course.

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  5. Scott is doing well. He has a car, a girl friend, and a heart of gold. He is trying and doing well.

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