|of course he's fire|
As winter turns into spring, of course my mind instantly goes to Halloween, which is two seasons away and I've admitted to my ridiculousness several times already. Being a child in the 80's in the south, Halloween has always has a certain flavor in it that really manages to stick around all year. It was in heavy metal, haunted attractions, certain fantasy and sci fi, wrestling, there's just that old school Halloween that's always around. Which brings me to a regular point of interest, the cousins of Transformers known as Battle Beasts. As you may know, Battle Beasts were sold in a variety of ways and one faithful Friday in the 5th grade I lucked up on a large multi pack of the fighting critters at Kay Bee Toys.
I said I was from the south and was a child in the 80's right?
At the time, satanic paranoia was running rampant in my school as church groups were often infiltrated with the crazy scare videos and pamphlets that were everywhere at the time (they're all over YouTube). Thanks to having a teen-aged brother and living in the suburbs, I was constantly surrounded by heavy metal and all the assorted imagery that came with it. Which is where Fleet Footed Antelope comes in. You see, he was in that multi pack I got that faithful evening and among opening was presented with pure unadulterated evil.
There he was, horned and hooves, looking like every representation of the devil I was presented in those scare pamphlets. Tiny evil rubber bastard. I was petrified, I was terrified, I was horrified.
The Fleet Footed Antichrist was there and I had no idea how to deal with such a demonic presence (really, those scare videos and pamphlets left that part out). Maybe if I had the power of water. Water beats fire. But no, I'm in Georgia and surrounded by wood. Fire beats wood. I was screwed. So, I ultimately decided on doing the best thing in this situation. I locked him away where he could never get out, never to hurt anyone. Never to trick you into going to hell by playing Dungeons and Dragons. For all time and for all the good in the world, Fleet Footed Antelope had to be imprisoned.
So I put him in a Tupperware container that had my old crayons that I didn't use anymore and stuck him in the bottom drawer of my bedroom desk. There, no matter what, he could never be found. Until like a month later when I forgot I was afraid of him and found him while looking for that Mad magazine I stuck somewhere in my desk.
Fleet Footed Asshole still smells like crayons.
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