“”Artie’s new mindset is convenient for the rest of us,”
Now we have a bar that’s always open, a bartender  who never leaves his bar!” 
         When asked if he believed the bartender’s
story to be true, Mayor Frank Wilcox said, 
“Who cares?”
      Then the mayor added, “Who knows? Up
here anything’s possible.”  
      Quoted from the WAIT-A-BIT! newspaper, ‘The Evil Screed,’ Issue 3, Page 1, as quoted in the Vancouver Sun.

     In the twilight morning,     Frank climbs up out of the bunker and through about 5 1/2 feet of deep snow, covered with freezing ice…Takes a sniff at the air,stretches, beats his chest and shouts, “SMELLS LIKE SPRING!”
     In reality,there’s a pathetic path through the mountains of
snow, deeply encased with ice.
       “You ever build a snow fort when you were young?
Remember packing snow then taking a hose or
twenty pails of water and covering the fort with
ice?  That way the fort was half-way safe to crawl
        Well, that’s what it was like outside the
round bunker door belonging to Hank and FRank
in the undiscovered  village of WAIT-A-BIT!

         Frank crawled up to a flat stump still
peeking out of the snow. The wind had cleared the
stump repeatedly… the more or less constant wind
from the West…But lower down, where the wind
didn’t often reach – the snow was deep.
        There was a ringing in Frank’s ears almost
constantly now. Same sort of ringing you get
if you fire off a large caliber gun in a small space…
or if you’d listened to your favourite hip hop band with
your head too close to the speakers…. or you and
your girlfriend were dancing by the speakers for two hours…
or had sex in front of the speakers and then fell asleep
       Well, if the two of you grow old together…
neither of you will be able to hear a damn thing
the other is saying.
        This is not a bad thing. Many people have 
spouses who cannot or will not stop
talking. So if you can’t hear too well,
it can be a blessing…
        But not always…

        “What if someone’s creeping up behind
you, wants to steal your poncho, or
your rifle… what then?” Hank asks from
down below, leaning out  the bunker hole.
         “Yeah, well then you want to be able to
hear… But that’s what the 6th sense is for –
to know when some fucker’s trying to kill
you,”Frank shouts back down.
          They both agreed. Hank pulled
his head back inside.
          “But this constant buzzing in my head –
can’t be a good thing…”

           Frank went outside in the first place
because he thought he heard a bird call,.
OK, he heard a crow… but they count too.
           For three months nothing had
made a sound outside…”Well, you can
hear the weasels laughing… but could be
that’s just in my head… I’m so used to the
         “Wonder what they’re laughing at?”
Frank’s thinking…
         There’s no answer to such questions.

          For example, one guy says:   “I might be projecting laughter onto them…giving them human characteristics
they don’t really have.”
         ” Yeah, sure…” Frank answers, not interested in
such horseshit interpretations.

     “But all these stories of men raped by weasels…
Over the past few years…Are those stories true?” Frank
now is wondering, “Or are they just something I made up in the bar, when it was late,just to shut some drunken asshole up? Maybe it was one, or the other, or both.
      The problem was, Frank couldn’t remember
if he made it up or not… Did it matter?  
       Maybe it did.

           Frank remembered the look
in Artie’s eyes when he climbed back up
the hill. When Artie first got to WAIT-A-BIT!
he believed in protecting the wildlife.
        He came back that first night
 with a look of surprise on his face. 
He was a changed man…Wide-eyed…
and trembling. And he had a
very different opinion about protecting the
wildlife then.

        “One thing I won’t ever forget…”
 Artie was talking in his brand new bar, when he
first arrived.
        ” Jesus, it hurts!” he said to me, clutching
his ass.
        “Hmmm. I had to at least pretend to be
interested… What, won’t you forget, Artie?”
Frank asks in a quiet  voice.
         Before he answered Artie had a huge
slug of Shine .        (Remember – one ounce of
                             shine is about equal to 3 shots of vodka) 

         “I won’t forget!” he said,  “The weasel had me.
I couldn’t move… my ass in the air and
my face in the snow… It was his hot
breath on the back of my neck. Every
time I tried to move,he bit me… the hot breath
on the back of my neck, I’ll never forget that!
         Frank read in his notes: “I smoked my pipe. I looked
across the room at Artie -wild-eyed with his pants
down and dancing from one leg to the other,
trying to apply Vaseline to his anus. 
          It was pretty clear Artie at least believed
something had happened.”
         “I’m the mayor, after all, and I suppose I’m
the police, also”. It’s my duty to investigate.”
         So I say to the man, “I thought animals were quick about having sex.. If a dog humps your leg…
It don’t take long…He knows he doesn’t have much time.”
       ” Same thing with wild animals – they know they don’t
have much time, either… before somethin’ bites em
in the arse or in what hangs below it,”Frank says 
       “This sex seemed to go on forever!”
Artie said.   
         “Artie’s got that same look on his
face right now.” Frank is thinking, “A mix of
horror, shock and surprise. He’s re-living
the initial experience.”

         Frank wants to change the subject.He
feels lazy. He really doesn’t want to think
about this.
        “First drink of the day..Taste’s
great!”” Frank nods at Artie.  
         They clink  tin cups together.

         But the amazed look on Artie’s
face never leaves him.
          “He had that weird look on his face – like
maybe he’s in shock.. like he had been standing,
couldn’t move – with a truck coming at night,
frozen  in the headlights.”
          “And at that last instant the truck is past! 
It can shake you up… especially if you’ve been half asleep
at the time, and the first sound you hear in the midst
of your pleasant dreams, is the blaring horn of an
eighteen wheeler. 
         (Frank has been considering the
situation for a long time.) 
          The shine is finding a place in him…

          Frank chuckles. He knows he shouldn’t say
this, but he can’t resist. After all, he has to investigate.

        Frank asks, “He had you down… face planted
in the snow and bare assed…. Why were your
          “I was taking a piss,” says Artie. “First
I had to drop my pants!”
           ” Oh boy, you have a few things to learn
about the Arctic!” Frank laughs, “When you take a
piss, your piss almost freezes before it hits the
ground.  No one takes their pants down up here before
taking a piss – not men or women! You might get
frostbite in a place you can’t  scratch.” 
          “You were afraid to move?” Frank asks.
          Artie nods his head, yes.
          “Well, this is kinda personal,” Frank says, trying not
to laugh.  “But I have to ask it…”
          “OK,” Artie says.

TURNS ON YOU?”  Frank asks.

            Artie had looked alarmed already. Now he looks 
            ‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Artie shouts.
            “Well, this is a sensitive point. But they
had you face down. You couldn’t move…
Weasels are usually pretty quick about 
the sex act… so… if it went on for a long time…
maybe…. did you ever stop to think…”
            “What!” Artie shouts.
            “Did you ever stop to think…  
 maybe more than one weasel raped you?
 Maybe every male weasel in the area took you from
behind…”  Frank smiles in an understanding fashion,
“That’s why it took so long?”

           Artie is silent for a long time. He leaves
the bar and goes into the back…
           “Is that sobbing, I hear?” Frank
is wondering. No Artie’s back too
quick. Now he’s standing right beside me..
Oh, Christ! he’s got a gun!”
        Artie has the gun pointed at Frank’s
temple… His eyes look even bigger than before.
They’re bulging. His pants are off and his knees
are shaking…
          Frank nods his head
          “Yes?” Frank says.
           “NEVER Talk to me about  WEASELS again!”
           “Yes, sure!  Of course, Artie! Whatever
you say!”
           Artie goes into the back and puts the large revolver
down. He stumbles back up to the front of the bar.            He sits down. He has a another big drink.
 He downs half the cup in one gulp. 
          “That’s about the equivalent of 8 shots
of vodka ” Frank says..”It’s
one hell of an eye-opener!”
         Finally Artie speaks up, his voice
slurring a bit now: “Thanks so much for that
        ”  I could have lived the rest of my
life, without ever thinking…  that!”
          Frank doesn’t say a word. It’s a good time
to be quiet.

you planted in my head. I just relived the
entire experience!”Artie shouts.
           “I thought I heard you doing something
out back…”
           “Yes, I was on my hands and knees
again…trying to drink the snow…” Artie says,
“Just like that night!  Trying to remember
           “Wait a minute!” Frank jumps up off his
            “You were on your hands and knees?”
             “Yes, I just told you…”
             “On your hands and knees, taking
a piss bare-assed…in weasel country,in weasel territory?  Right down near theirLAIR?”Frank asks,
not believing what he was hearing.

            “Yeah sure,I told you” Artie says. “I had to take a piss! I was drunk…  all of a sudden, I got really thirsty. 
I put my face in the snow and started drinking it.
             They both sat in the dark bar, thinking
and drinking lots more of the hooch. Frank, the mayor,
doesn’t say a thing. He’s trying to digest these facts.

              “You see…” Frank is shaking his head,
starting to understand. “They probably thought you were a female in heat!”
               “_________________” says Artie.
               “They smelled your piss.. and by
the time they had scrambled half-way up the hill,
they were probably horny and
they didn’t care who you were!”
              “He ripped out the seat of my pants
 right away! In a second he was on me!”
              “Jesus…” Frank says. “That explains
it… That’s how it got started! Wow!”





Somehow, as the story goes,

the female residents mated with the

bull weasels know as “devil beasts”

or wolverines – and a half-humanoid,

half weasel  race began. But this

wasn’t the cause.


The cause was the military gene splicing.

GMO experiments began, at that

installation on the shores of the

of the Arctic Sea.


Now it must be remembered, an otter

is a weasel,and the otter is a very

clever beast with a tendency to be


I was paddling a canoe along the shore

of Poplar Lake at dusk. I came upon an otter

family sliding down a wet rock and

splashing into the lake. They were making

high pitched squealing noises almost as

if they were laughing.


I glided by so quietly in the semi-dark

across the calm lake, that the otters

scarcely noticed me. My presence did not

bother them. For once a human being

was being quiet. The otters don’t really have

a lot to be afraid of in the Martin River

area. Their attitude seemed to be

“live and let live” and this was my

inclination as well.


The wolverine is the king of

all weasels. He does not believe

in “live and let live” He has an inbred tendency

to attack the balls of 2000 pound Kodiak bears.

A wolverine will driver a huge bear away

from its food.

Mating with such a weasel is no joke,

And such actiovity ought to

be avoided at all costs – if the penetratee

has any choice at all in the matter.

The native women had no such choice,

so they should never be described as “weasel-whores”

or any such name-calling appellations.


It is said their eyes glowed yellow in the dark,

and their piss smelt worse than a skunk’s spray –

and they pissed all over the food of trappers and

ripped their sheets and blankets to shreds and shat

all over their pillows, and ejaculated inside the soft

down to make an odor so foul as to be scarcely

imaginable to city folk.


This evolution of beast-man

intimidated the native tribes to the south… For

not only did these big-brained

weasel minds know for certain when they were

being tracked, they had the lust of ten-peckered owls

and their snarling mawed minds were filled with a

deep desire to fuck all trackers-trappers’ brains loose.


As if the smell were not bad enough, the vision of

some mad 200 pound weasel horny as 12 sled dogs

in the spring, that notion, that vision was far worse

than any smell could be.


After the military started their genetic modification

experiments – splicing human and wolverine DNA

together into one new strain… After these experiments

started, (ten years after) that’s when the

bizarre occurences started to happen up and down

the Mackenzie River.

It was a shock to us all.


The mind of the wolverine is devious. The mind

of man is sneaky and devious… vengeful and sadistic

with a twisted sense of humour The experiments

were successful, if you want to call this horrific

mixture a success.


The new wolverine grew in size. It was bigger

and faster and mean as a snake. It wanted to eat

practically everything that moved. Its lust increased

into a dangerous thing. Unfortunate incidents

began to occur.


As I say, before we’d take a shotgun with us to

the outhouse. Now what you wanted was a shotgun

and two armed guards to accompany you every

step of the way.


In those early days after the Incineration,

we were forced to eat anything that crawled, walked,

scuttled or slithered, there were very few women

with us in WAIT-A-BIT. So the wolverines

started raping the men.


Everybody with any brains started the long

trek towards the East. Some of the trekkers

went no farther than the encampments

and dwellings of the Cave Bear People – that

notorious tribe of trappers and magicians.

I know more than I’m ever going to admit

about their dark ceremonies.


East of the Cave Bear People, that’s

where the military had started their DNA

splicing experiments, The military had been

there about ten years, so I’m told.

It was just two years ago that Artie

got nailed from behind by a huge weasel

that wanted only one thing – Artie’s ass.

Artie has never been the same since.


But who has? Who has?

In WAIT-A-BIT! none of us are normal. )))

  • ******


              “I guess that explains the first
man-rape… But what about the next four or
five rapes… the ones reported after mine?”
Artie asks.
              “The only thing I can figure,”
Franks says, “They got a taste for human ass,
and they liked it. You were warm, you were
open and you were easy…Looks like you started
a trend.”
                “What a horrible thought,” Artie says.

                “So they jumped some other
human males,too, and raped them.They found those men were easy, too…’
                ” Female wolverines are not always  in heat…
But male humans are easily accessible & available all the time up here… There are  no women here… in the territories…”
                “Weasels probably thought you were a woman… or the weasels didn’t care…”Frank says. He is puzzling this out,  preparing a report in his head that he knows will never be written.
              “So the weasels got a taste
for human males…” Franks is thinking.”Just a theory!”
              ” But if we’re not careful.this might become a trait! Part of the psyche of the clever beast… in no time at all it’ll
be part of the weasel DNA!   We don’t want that!”

                 “It would be terrible for tourism,” 
                 They both laugh hard at that.

                “How many guys have the weasels
 surprised?” Frank asks.
                “Four admitted it, but  I suspect
they got Dexter, too. He doesn’t want to talk
about it.  Men don’t usually want to talk
about getting it up the ass. At least, up not here.
They might feel different about it at Church and Bloor.”
                “Dexter hasn’t said a word in ninety days.
He just keeps on staring off into the distance,
like he knows something no one else knows…
He’s got that faraway look in his eyes…” Artie
            “Staring off into the Great Beyond!”

            “I know the feeling well.”
           “Me too. I had an aunt with eyes like that.
           You looked into her eyes, you saw the Great Beyond!”

(C) 2008-2019 by W.G. Milne   All rights reserved


  1. Amazing. Nice ending. I wasn’t expecting this.

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