The Silver Fox

I was at the bottom of the world in Patagonia. This silver fox came up to me; he was very close, eyeball-to-eyeball. He said, “Have you got any ham?”

“I’m not a German tourist, ” I replied. “I’m English. We are good for cigarettes, beer, fried-egg sandwiches and the racing paper—no ham,   sorry.”

“Turn over all the ham you’ve got,” insisted the fox.

I said, “Listen up you furry critter you. Have you ever read the ancient and sacred writings of a certain Stuie Wilde? ‘Cos if you have, you’d know it says in there someplace on page #2794 (as far as I can recall), that in the Mirror World the fox is the symbol of the king of the UFOs. And the Forces of Light are after the UFOs and the fox, and they will trap them in a corner, with no ham, no jam, or anything else that they have grown fond of.”

“Scare tactics, eh?” said the silver fox.

“No Bubba, not scare tactics. This is the real thing and if I were you, I’d hide under a rock for ten minutes or so. I’ve seen a bus load of tourists headed this way, someone is bound to have a ham sandwich or two to share with a silver chappie like you.”

“Nice,” said the fox, “I’ll bide my time.”

“Yes,” I replied, “we have all had to bide our time. Biding our time is what we are good at.”

© Stuart Wilde 2005 – www.stuartwilde.com

Patagonia