Today we open with a tale filled with mystery and a bit of history. Mopey the Ferret comes from a long line of crazed ferrets. Some are more infamous and well known than others, but ultimately I decided to dig into Han’s past a little bit more this past week and create a genealogical tree for my little fury friend.
Last weekend, before Mopey hit the road with Malicious to find David, he sat before the television eating his morning bowl of granola while watching his favorite TV show, “Painting with Bob Ross” on PBS. After the show finished up and Bob and completed the last of his “happy trees” Hanz muttered, “Franken-Ross” and slurped down the last bit of his milk and scuttled off to plan something more devious in the confines of his closet.
His sudden outburst was odd, but not unlike Mopey and I dismissed it. Now we roll like a cube to a week later, with an absent Mopey and Malicious, and a completed ancestral tree. Lo and behold I discovered quite an interesting tale about one of Mopey’s ancestors that explains his unusual outburst.
But first let me take you on a magical journey to a land far, far away…Canada. You find a part of yourself you never knew you possessed and you may not, but regardless you’ll learn a little more about Hanz, and well…what makes him Mopey.
It was a cool crisp evening. There was not a sound in the air. The normalcy of machinery and electronics is gone from this world, because it does not exist yet. It is a simpler time. In age where man and ferret alike are just beginning to understand the sciences. Hokum is the main stay here.
Within a dew encrusted field of unharvested corn lays a small house…more of a shack really. The house is old, rickety and virtually uninhabited. Crickets and mice fill the void, but beneath the shelter lays a basement, and within this basement resides another crazed ferret not so unlike our Mopey. He looks near identical, but far more crazed than Hanz will ever become.
Bunsen burners, beakers, and bubbling, over-filled pots heated by hamster power cover almost every available space, and dead center in the room lies a table…a small monolith built to shackle a single man.
The ferret quietly works with his back to the narrator. He shimmies, he paws, he mutters. This type of work continues for many hours until all goes quiet again.
Then the pitter-patter of rain envelopes the eardrums with a steady, quick beat. The ferret stiffens in response. There is a crack, and then thunder and lightning erupt precisely once.
The ferret cries…”Eureka!” and steps aside to reveal a monster. But, not just any monster, but the loveable Bob Ross! Pieced together from fallen men by the mad, feral ferret, and Mopey’s distant ancestor!
Bob Ross cries out, frees himself from a stunned ferret, and rushes wildly and unpredictably into the Canadian forest.
I know this hard to believe, and that’s why I provided you pause to consider what I have just divulged. But, Bob Ross is Franken-Ross, and he has been painting happy trees for well over two-centuries now.
He may be gone now, but who knows maybe our children or our children’s children will sit down with their granola and watch a painter paint his happy trees to a whole new audience that never even knew of…FRAKEN-ROSS!