Adventures of Simo the Skunk: Escape from the Pray-Away-the-Gay Boy's Bible Camp! Part One
This is the origin of Simo the Skunk, and how he came to leave the Alabama swamps, later to meet his badger buddy...enjoy!
The Adventures of Simo the Skunk: Part One: Escape from Christ's Cabins Pray Away the Gay Camp
Simo snuck out that night to the fort he had built with his friend, Peppy Opossum, to smoke cigarettes and share a joint. He had to be careful to hop from clump to clump of swamp grass quietly; rains had made the water level rise so that much of the land and trees were now below water. The glow of his parent's cabin shone faintly, little more than the light of a distant firefly.
Simo knew Peppy from detention at school; they both had to stay after often for being hyper and disruptive. He reached the fort made from a frame of sticks, and thatched with Spanish moss, and crawled in next to his friend. He might not have been Simo's ideal: a bit round, and not the brightest, but a very friendly sort. And he looked up to Simo to protect him at school. Simo didn't mind this role: More than once, some smart-ass fox or wolf had gotten a good spray right in the face on the opossum's behalf. They didn't often say much to each other, but seemed to have a certain understanding. Peppy passed Simo a fat joint: his favorite, a potent skunk weed. This way, the smell blended in with the one he could produce at will.
They lay next to each other on a platform that served as a deck in the rear of the fort, looking up at the stars, with only the sounds of crickets and frogs around them. Simo felt Peppy's little paws stroking his skunk-Mohawk softly, and his body trembled. He'd been letting things like this happen, and liking them. And then, the funny, round creature let his paw wander down the Skunk's tummy, then behind his tail, lifting it to gently grab his balls, making Simo grow hard at once. His heart beat fast, and he lay back on his stomach, and let Peppy do as he pleased in the humid night air.
~ Oblivious by now, they jumped up with a shock, as a flashlight burned into their eyes: Above them loomed Peppy's pappy, 'ol Preacher Opssum, with a look that could have turned one to stone.
"And here ya'll are! Lookit 'em!, layin' together in sin! And coated by the sticky juice of the devil!" the preacher shouted, waving a Bible wildly in the air.
Simo reared up, spraying the preacher in the eyes, and sending him reeling backwards to land in the muddy swamp. But that was his last squirt; he had used his scent glands too much in the past week, and depleted them. In a moment, a crowd from the church was upon them, pulling them apart, and putting the struggling Skunk in a strait-jacket, while leading the Opposum away, hogtied in a cage, despite the fact he was also playing possum. Simo shed a few tears: The kid never was too bright, and now, he was stuck with that preacher father. That night would be the last he would ever see of his quiet friend, the one with whom they had discovered so much, a wordless truth.
"Fuck you all!" Simo hissed. "You'll never change me. Ever. I'll burn your stupid church down, and shove your bibles up your assholes! And use your god-damn cross like a dildo! Let me go!"
But the next sensation he felt was the brief sting of a hypodermic in his arm, and then a deep sleep. He dreamt of flying, of leaving the low-laying Alabama swamps, his snake-handling Pentecostal parents, and living among the clouds. When he awoke the next day, he was led in ankle-shackles and hand-cuffs to a cabin; groggily his eyes made out a sign: "Christ's Cabins Conversion Center-Where we pray away the gay". A cyclone fence topped with razor wire surrounded the compound, and a sign read: DANGER: 480 Volts.
Yet he couldn't help but smile as a pair of cackling weasels released him from his shackles and cuffs, and shoved him into the cabin: he could smell the scent of at least one other boy, a badger, and no doubt, others in other cabins, mingled with those that had been here before him. Things might be worse. Because in that scent, he could read what had happened between him and his friend Peppy like a book that he knew well.
But what to expect of this place, high in the mountains? He guessed he was in Appalachia, by the topography; his folks couldn't have afforded to take him too far. Exhausted and faint, he collapsed onto the lower bunk.