Chapter 24 - Jimbo's Story, Part 1

Cable followed Jimbo into the teepee. It was dark inside, with just a little stream of light trickling down from the opening at the top. Jimbo immediately grabbed a candle, lit it, and set it on a small table in the middle of the teepee. He then turned to Cable and said, “Welcome to me abode, Herc. Make yourself homely. You’re welcome to take a seat in the corner.”

Cable turned and looked behind him. Of course, finding a seat in a corner was impossible, since the floor was a giant circle. Cable turned back toward Jimbo, only to see the strange man drop to the ground in laughter. “I made you look!” he declared, writhing on the ground in convulsions. “You fell for the oldest trick in the book! Oh my, am I funny or what? ‘Sit in the corner,’ I said. Ha! The room is a big circle! But for a second you looked for a corner! Oh my, I’m glad I haven’t lost my sense of humor. A big jokester, I am! Whew...” Jimbo sighed deeply and at long last came back to his feet.

Cable wasn’t amused. He enjoyed a good laugh every now and then, but he wasn’t particularly crazy about being the object of laughter. But just as he was opening his mouth to reply, Jimbo reached down, grabbed an animal skin, and threw it at him. “Here, mate, have a seat on Ben. It’s been a long time since I’ve had guests here, and Ben is my very best guest seat. He soft and cuddly, and he loves kids. Don’t you, Ben?” Jimbo paused while Cable spread the animal skin out on the floor. Then he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Ben. You can’t answer, can you? You’re dead. Oh well, your loss is our gain.”

In the dim candlelight, Cable struggled to see what kind of animal he was sitting on. The fur was brown and soft, and finally he found the flattened form of a head. It had once been a bear, and a pretty large one at that. “How’d you kill such a big bear, Jimbo?” Cable asked.

“That be a fine question, Herc,” Jimbo replied. (Cable grimaced whenever Jimbo called him “Herc”, but Jimbo either never noticed or didn’t care.) “You see, bears do a pretty fair job of dodging arrows, so I had to resort to my other weapon of choice.” Jimbo paused, reached over toward the edge of the teepee, and grabbed an object that he held proudly before Cable. “I used my sword!” he declared triumphantly.

“You killed a bear with a sword?” Cable asked incredulously.

“Yes, mate, I did indeed. You see, once upon a time I was a great swordsman. But old Ben, he didn’t realize that. So he just kind of comes at me and rears up on his hind legs like he’s going to rip my head from my body. And then I pretended to be horrified, and I said, ‘Oh no, don’t kill me, Ben! There’s only one of me, and if I die then I’ll be dead!’ And then, while old Ben paused to contemplate what I’d said, I took this sword and thrust it right through his heart!” Jimbo thrust the sword through the air as he relived the scene in front of Cable.

“How did a guy that lives in the woods get to be such a great swordsman?” queried Cable.

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask, Herc!” Jimbo replied. Reaching down, he grabbed another rug and laid it down opposite Cable. “Let me tell you my story, mate. I think you’ll like it. And besides, there really isn’t much else to do around here. Before I start, would you like a piece of dried meat?”

As Cable nodded, he saw Jimbo reach up and grab a piece of meat that was hanging from a rope that was dangling down. Beyond the rope, Cable saw a smiley face that had been scrawled on the inside of the teepee wall. Under the face were the words “Me Rachel. Troo luv.” Under the words was a heart with an arrow through it.

Jimbo noticed Cable staring at the wall as he handed over the piece of meat. “So you’re looking at me love, are you?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s very beautiful,” Cable replied, maintaining a straight face while trying with every ounce of strength to keep from bursting in laughter.

“Oh yes she is!” Jimbo agreed, turning around and looking at the picture himself. “Like you were saying, I am indeed a great swordsman. But if there is one thing I can’t do, it is draw (pronounced ‘draaaaaaaawwwww’). But I’ve got to admit, the portrait does capture her smile and her captivating eyes. Sometimes I just can’t keep from staring at her.”

Cable didn’t think the eyes of the drawing were all that captivating. They were just black dots scribbled on the wall. But Jimbo was quite enchanted with them and gazed silently at them for about two awkward minutes. Finally Cable broke the silence by saying, “So Jimbo...you were going to tell me about how you became such a great swordsman.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course I was. Are you comfortable? This could take awhile.” Then, without waiting for a reply, Jimbo began his tale.

“My life began when I was born. Don’t be surprised, Herc. Your life probably began that way, too. But mine was a little different because I was born at the same time as me brother, who also happened to be my twin. So that’s how I started out. I beat my brother by about 10 minutes. At least, that’s what me mum always told me.

“Well, although we were twins, we didn’t look very much alike, and we sure didn’t act very much alike. My brother was kind of a mamma's boy who just liked to stay around the house and help cook. Whenever I wanted to go shoot squirrels or catch fish, he’d just say, ‘Jimothy,’ (that’s me real name--Jimothy--but if you ever call me that, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you), ‘I don’t really like to kill animals. I’m going to stay home and help mama.’ And I’d say, ‘If you don’t like killing animals, then why do you eat them?’ And he’d say, ‘If you’re going to kill them anyway, then I need to eat them to keep their lives from being wasted. But don’t ever ask me to kill an animal myself!’ And I’d say, ‘Have it your way, bro,’ and I’d take off.

“You see, Herc, I loved the outdoors. I couldn’t stand staying inside. All the time growing up, me and my brother would have fights. We shared a room, and all he’d want to do was stay home and keep things neat and tidy. And he’d hate it if I spilled a teeny little drop of squirrel blood on our blankets. And so we’d fight, and I think it drove our parents crazy.

“Well, during one of our many battles (which I always won, by the way), my dad broke things up and said to me, ‘Listen, Jimbo. You are 11 years old now. When you are 12, I’m going to give you your very own room. And you’ll be able to keep it as messy as you want. But for now, just get along. All right?’ He said ‘All right?’ sort of like he was asking a question, but it really wasn’t a question. It was a command. So I nodded me head, and for the next few months I couldn’t wait to get my own room and get away from my brother.

“The one peculiar thing was that dad never actually built anything. I kinda figured that he was going to build me a new room, or maybe put a wall up in our room. But he didn’t do a thing. Then, when my birthday came (which also happened to be my brother’s birthday), he came into the bedroom and said, ‘Son, welcome to your new room!’ And I said (with a great deal of respect in me voice, I assure you), ‘What new room, Dad?’ And he said, ‘Follow me.’ Then he led me out side and pointed to the nearby woods. ‘Jimothy, that is your room. The whole outdoors is your room. You can stay out here as much as you want. You can come back to eat from time to time if you’d like, but don’t stay too long, because you just like to cause trouble. And when you enter this house, you need to leave your brother alone. Is that clear?’ Then, without pausing to hear a reply from me, he walked back into the house while muttering, ‘Happy birthday!’

“I suppose that a lot of kids would feel intimidated by being kicked out of their own house at age 12. But in case you haven’t guessed, Herc, I’m not much like a lot of kids. I was thrilled to get out. I grabbed my bow and arrows and a deerskin run and dashed out to the woods. I didn’t even look back. I built a lean-to, killed some squirrels, made some squirrel stew, and just enjoyed breathing fresh air. No more brother to annoy me, no more house rules to follow. I loved it. Oh, I’d come back from time to time to get some of mama’s home cooking, which was a wee bit better than my cooking. But then I’d turn right around and go back to the woods.

“That continued for, oh, maybe eight or nine years or so. I kind of lost track, since I didn’t have my annoying brother to tell me what date it was all the time. But then one day, when I was out hunting for some deermeat, I heard a crashing sound through the woods. That was a bit odd, because nobody lived nearby. I crouched down and listened. Moments later, an arrow whizzed through the air and planted itself in the tree just above my head. I was thoroughly impressed--someone could have killed me, and didn’t! And they were a good shot as well! I pulled the arrow out of the tree, stood up and said, ‘Whoever you are, I salute you! Come show yourself! And take your arrow back!’

“Moments later, some chap with a crooked jaw emerges from a thicket. He doesn’t really introduce himself or anything. He just says, ‘Listen, chap. I’m gathering together an army of black knights. I’ve heard you’re a good warrior and could help us out. Now just looking at you, I’m not too impressed. But I’ll ask anyway--will you join us?’

“Well, I was kind of offended by the fact that he wasn’t impressed. But I enjoyed life too much to let this chump ruin me day. So I said, ‘No thank you sir, I’m fine where I am.’

“The man with the crooked jaw just kind of stared at me. He didn’t move for about a minute; he just stared at me. Then without speaking he raised his hand and made a faint motion. I heard some rustling, and then two other people emerged from behind some trees. One guy was a really mean-looking chap with a patch over his eye and a scar on his cheek.

“The other guy...well, it was my brother. He had a gag in his mouth, and his hands were bound behind him. The guy with the patch held a knife to his throat and glared at me.

“The the man with the crooked jaw said simply, ‘Does this change your mind?’ Well, I had to admit that it did.”

Chapter 23 - Jimbo

When we last saw Cable, he was diving off a 100-foot cliff, hurtling toward a river below. He was filled with a range of emotions during his journey toward the water. One emotion was relief--he was thankful to be free from the iron clutches of the hooded figures, who certainly would have thrust him into the smoke-belching mound. Another emotion was wonder. Where had the arrows come from that had briefly freed him from his assailants? Had they been meant to save him, or had they simply been a poorly-aimed attempt to kill him? Cable was also filled with exhilaration--he was not afraid of heights, and rather enjoyed a good cliff-dive from time to time. Of course, the exhilaration was tempered a bit by a dash of fear, since he really didn’t know how deep the water was. He sure hoped his enjoyable trip down wasn’t cut short by a shallow river. As he pondered the question of the depth of the river, he observed that the river seemed to be rather narrow and slow-moving. That gave him a bit of reassurance. Fast-moving water tends to be shallow, but a calm-looking narrow channel of water would suggest a deep canyon that just might give him a chance to survive.

The last thought to penetrate Cable’s mind before he plunged into the water was this--it’s amazing how many thoughts can roll through the mind in 2.5 seconds.

The good news was, the river was indeed deep at this point, and Cable was not shattered into a million pieces on some hidden rocks. The bad news was, just as Cable had finished his descent into the water and was kicking his way up to the surface, his foot got caught.

At first, Cable puzzled over what it could be. His first, fearful instinct was that it had been caught by some ruthless underwater man-eating creature. But after a couple of seconds, he realized that his foot wasn’t being eaten; it was just stuck. While that brought some measure of relief, he nevertheless realized that drowning wasn’t really all that much better than being chewed to death. So he peered through the water in an attempt to see what was holding his foot. It seemed to be caught in a thicket of some sort. Could it be an old beaver dam? Or was it a tree that had long since sunk to the bottom, but whose branches still reached out and clutched at passers-by? The water was murky, and Cable couldn’t tell for sure. But there was one thing Cable did know: he was running out of air.

Cable doubled over and reached for his foot. He couldn’t pull it free. He kicked his leg and tried to shake it loose, but to no avail. He frantically swam left, right, up, down, trying in all directions to find an angle that could allow him to get free. But nothing worked. His lungs felt ready to burst. He longed for a breath of air. He looked up and tried to make out the surface of the water. He was overcome by despair and began to black out.

But then, from behind him, Cable felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He felt himself being pulled free. He kept staring at the surface of the water, hoping that it would come before he suffocated. He felt strong kicks propelling him upward, and--with the last bit of strength he had--he made himself kick as well. After what seemed like eternity, he felt fresh air pouring over him, and he inhaled. It was the sweetest air he had ever tasted. He gasped and sputtered and spit and gagged--and he was alive.

After catching his breath and clearing his eyes, Cable looked around to see if he could find his rescuer. Oddly enough, he couldn’t see him anywhere. Cable saw a clearing nearby and started to swim to the shore. Perhaps the man had already gotten out of the water. Cable resisted looking back up to the top of the cliff. The last thing in the world he wanted to see was the hooded figures.

Just as Cable was about to climb out onto shore, he felt something grab his ankle. He immediately panicked. He kicked and whirled around, fearful that he would be dragged back to the depths of the river. But as he turned, his ankle was released, and a grinning face of a man broke the surface of the water. Displaying one of the goofiest expressions that Cable had ever seen on the face of an adult, the man simply said, “Did I scare ya’?” Then the man slipped by Cable, got out of the water, reached out, and helped Cable out at well.

Cable sat on the shore and stared at the man that had saved his life. In some ways, the man looked old enough to be his great grandfather. His hair (what there was of it, anyway) was gray, and his face was wrinkly. Cable wasn’t sure if the wrinkles had been caused by old age, or just by spending too much time in the water. However, while most of the man’s face looked ancient, the man’s eyes were bright and inquisitive. And his smile carried the same kind of goofball expressions that Cable usually saw on his brother Andres’ face. In short, Cable really couldn’t tell if the man was 14 years old or 140 years old.

The man’s physique was also curious. In some ways, he moved around like an old man--very slow and deliberate, and somewhat hunched over. But when Cable looked at his upper arms, he realized that they were roughly the size of watermelons. He’d never seen such muscles on the body of a human. Who was this odd man?

The man seemed to notice Cable staring at his arms, and he immediately piped up. “Hey, are you looking at these, mate?” he asked. He then proceeded to flex his muscles. After flexing and admiring himself for a few moments, he strolled over to the edge of the river, rotating his chest back and forth as he went. He then posed some more and gazed at the reflection of his muscles in the water. He made faces as he did so, though Cable wasn’t exactly sure what a “muscular” face was supposed to look like. After that, a silly little game broke out, where the man would make a face, burst out laughing at himself, make another face, and burst out into even greater laughter. Finally, after the intriguing ritual had run it’s course, the man pointed toward the water and declared, “Now you are one muscular guy, old chap!” And then he turned back toward Cable.

“Well, fancy meeting you here!” he bellowed. He walked over to Cable and shook his hand. His grip nearly squashed Cable’s hand like a grape. Cable noticed that the man’s hands felt like tree bark; there was nothing at all smooth about them. After taking a moment to clear his head, Cable said at last, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Thanks for saving my life. Now if you don’t mind my asking, who are you?”

The man squinted and scrunched his nose. Just when Cable thought he couldn’t appear more odd, he appeared even odder. Then a smile broke out over his face, and he said, “Isn’t that something? I know you, and you don’t know me! I don’t think that’s happened before! I’m kind of famous, you see, on account of my huge muscles. Perhaps you’ve noticed them?” The man then broke out into another flexing session. Cable, who couldn’t help but shake his head, was struck by the man’s odd pronunciations. His muscles weren’t just huge; as the man described it, they were “huuuuuuuuge”.

After admiring his biceps one last time, the man turned back toward Cable and said, “Oh yes, I didn’t answer your question. My name is Jimbo. And you, of course, are Cable, son of King Maximilian. It is a pleasure to meet you, and I am at your service.” He then bowed low. As he bent to come back upright, he paused and said, “Ouch!” He then grabbed his lower back and twisted it. Cable heard some bones crackle and crunch, and then he saw Jimbo straighten up. “Cursed old back,” he mumbled. “It’s as old as I am. Oh well, can’t be helped. Please come with me.” He motioned to Cable, and Cable followed him into the woods.

As the two figures trudged through the heavy growth of the dense forest, Jimbo turned around and asked, “Hey, mate, I’ve got a question for you. I know you’re a prince and everything, and you probably like to just be called by your name. But do you mind if I just call you ‘Herc’?”

“Where did that name come from?” replied a puzzled Cable.

“Well, it’s short for ‘Hercules’--you know, the muscle-ish Greek guy,” said Jimbo. “Your muscles...well, they kind of make me think of Hercules. And to be honest, it’s a bit easier to remember nicknames than it is to remember real names. Especially in times of danger, when I don’t have a whole lot of time to think of proper names.” The last two words were pronounced with a sort of dignified sarcasm (or perhaps it was sarcastic dignity).

Cable pondered this as he walked along. He gazed at his own biceps and triceps, and--after staring at them for a few moments--he thought he noticed a few ripples and bulges that might indeed faintly resemble those of a Greek god. So he said, “Sure, you can call me ‘Herc’. My father used to call me ‘Little Buddy’ for a long time, so I guess it’s kind of good to get a more grown-up version of a nickname.”

“It’s settled then, Herc,” replied Jimbo. “Follow me, and I’ll show you my castle.” And the two continued to traipse their way through the forest.

As dense as the woods were, Cable was amazed that they seemed to actually be walking on a bit of a path. It wasn’t a broad path, nor was it particularly straight, and branches continually slashed through the air and slapped him in the face. But the faintly-designated trail allowed them to move much more swiftly than they would have otherwise been able to. After a few minutes passed, Jimbo started to sing to himself. Soon the air was astir with the following bit of doggerel, bellowed out from the lungs of curious Jimbo:

Oh Rachel, you’re my girl.

I’d love to hold ye and give ye a twirl.

You make my heart go pitter-patter.

For you, I’d climb the highest ladder.

I’d climb to the top of the tallest steeple.

And shout, “I love Rachel!” to all of the people.

It didn’t take Cable long to realize that Jimbo would never be a professional minstrel. The tune was different each time he sang it, and the notes just didn’t seem to go together. He’d periodically raise his voice as high as he could, and then he’d sing like a girl for a moment, and then--at the end of each cycle through the song--he ended on the lowest note he could reach. And after saying the word “people”, Jimbo would blow a kiss and say, “That’s for you, girl.”

After he’d sung this peculiar verse three or four times, Cable felt compelled to interrupt. “Hey, Mr. Jimbo, uh...” Cable paused for a moment, enjoying the silence and the temporary reprieve from Jimbo's cacophonous onslaught. After he felt he'd milked the silence for as long as he could, he continued, “Say, who is Rachel, anyway? She's obviously very special to you. I mean, that’s really quite a song that you just finished singing.”

Jimbo turned and grinned. “Oh, ye liked it, eh?” he asked. “Well, you know, everyone that has heard it has said that! Of course, I don’t believe any other human has actually heard that particular song, which is a shame, since it's so beautiful.” (He actually pronounced it as “byoooooooo-teee-fullll. The ever-perceptive Cable noticed that Jimbo had a habit of dragging out the words that we wanted to emphasize.) Then Jimbo started to break out in song once again. In desperation, Cable piped up once more, “Please, Mr. Jimbo, tell me more about Rachel. Who is she?”

“Why, she's me girl, mate. What did ye think she was, an octopus?”

Cable shook his head. “No, I didn't think she was an octopus. So tell me, what does she look like?”

“Well, she's kind of short, to be honest with you. I'm not really crazy about tall (pronounced 'tawllllllll') ladies, since I'm not exactly a giant meself. And she's got long, dark hair that kind of descends off her perfect head like an auburn waterfall.” Then, speaking more to himself, Jimbo said, “Wow, that's kind of poetic, eh? An auburn waterfall. Wow, Jimbo, you are one clever guy.” Turning his attention back to Cable, he continued. “And she has a smile (pronounced ‘smmm-eye-uhllllll’) that stretches from one gorgeous ear to the other. And when she laughs, the whole southern forest can't contain the joyous sound. She really is the most wonderful creature I've ever known, and—as you might have guessed—I've known quite a few creatures in my lifetime.”

“How long have you known her?” Cable asked, looking for any way possible to extend this retreat from Jimbo's singing.

Jimbo paused and mumbled to himself. “Hmmm...I'm not sure, exactly how long. I'd estimate about four years or so, maybe, give or take a few months.”

“Are you married?”

“Not exactly, mate. But that's the plan.”

“Where does she live?”

“Well, that's a good question. I don't exactly know.”

Cable was puzzled. How could a man be so crazy about a girl when he didn’t even know where she lived? As he scratched his head, he bumped into a low-lying branch and fell to the ground. He quickly scrambled back to his feet and caught back up with the oblivious Jimbo. It was awfully easy to get lost in these dense woods, and Cable didn’t dare lose sight of his guide. Just as Jimbo broke out into another song, Cable asked, “Uh, Jimbo, how did you and Rachel meet?”

“That’s the one problem, Herc,” Jimbo replied. “I haven’t met her yet. I’ve been dreaming (‘dreeeeeaaaammmminggggg’) about her for many years, but our paths just haven’t crossed yet. It’s a pity, really. But I’ll tell you this much, old buddy. When I do meet her at last, I’m going to get down on me knees and ask her to marry me, right on the spot. I’ve been patiently waiting for years (‘yeeeeaaars’), and I just don’t think I’d be able to hold out for too much longer.”

After a pause, Jimbo glanced at his bulging biceps and added, “Besides, I’m pretty irresistible, if I do say so meself. I really don’t think she’ll take too much persuasion.”

Cable shook his head in utter bewilderment. In all 14 years of his existence, he couldn’t recall ever meeting anyone quite as odd as Jimbo. Eager to change the subject, Cable asked, “Did you make this trail that we’re on? It must be pretty difficult to carve out a trail in these woods. I don’t even know how you could tell where you were going.”

Jimbo piped up once again. “Well, it’s funny you should ask, mate. You see, these here trail was discovered and made by me pet wild boar.”

Somewhat mystified, Cable asked, “Is that even possible? If he’s wild, how could he be a pet? And if he’s a pet, how can he be wild?”

“It might not be possible for most people, Herc,” Jimbo replied, “but it’s possible for me. That’s all I can say about that. But anyway, let me tell you about my pride and joy, my pet wild boar. Next to Rachel, I love (‘looooooovvvvvve’) him more than any other creature in the whole world. You see, he’s really smart. When I made me little home in the woods, I was a bit lost, and more than a bit thirsty. So I told him to go find some water. Well, he went barreling out into the woods, and about 15 minutes later, he comes back all soaking wet. Being a pretty perceptive man meself, I said to meself, ‘Self, that boar must have found water, else he wouldn’t be wet.’ So then I said, ‘Could you take me to the water?’ And by gum, he did. So from that point on, whenever I’d want to go somewhere, I’d just sit on me fanny and tell the boar to make a trail. And that’s what he’d do.”

Cable could only shake his head at this revelation. As he looked up, he noticed that Jimbo seemed to be wiping his eyes. He then heard Jimbo say, in a voice that cracked with emotion, “And that’s why I get a little choked up whenever I think of my dear pet Doofus.”

Cable waited for Jimbo to compose himself. After it seemed like his curious companion had recovered, he asked, “If he’s so doggone clever, why did you call him ‘Doofus’?”

“I called him Doofus because he was so doggone clever,” Jimbo replied. “It’s a lot easier for me to remember if I use some sort of opposite name. If I called him ‘Genius’, well, I’d never remember that. Besides, people would make fun of me if I called a pet wild boar ‘Genius’. So I named him ‘Doofus’, and now everybody is happy. Get it?”

Cable pondered this for a moment. This revelation troubled him greatly. When he could stand it no longer, he asked, “So why did you call me ‘Herc’?”

“Look mate,” answered Jimbo, flexing his arms. “When you’ve got pipes like me, maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Slim’ or something like that. But hey, you’re young yet, mate! You’ve got lots of growing to do. And besides, cheer up! We’re almost home.”

The two travelers emerged from the dense woods into a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a teepee. It stood about 20 feet tall and was about 10 feet in diameter. It appeared to be covered with a patchwork of dried animal skins. “This is me castle!” Jimbo declared emphatically. As Cable approached the teepee, he saw a hand-painted sign that hung over the front opening. In bold black letters it read:

HOAM SWEAT HOAM

Cable shook his head and chuckled to himself. This strange man might be a master woodsman, but clearly spelling was not his thing. But before he chuckle too much, he heard a loud cracking noise from off to his right. Seconds later, a large wild boar came charging straight toward them from out of the woods. Cable (who had a mind for numbers) figured he was over two feet tall and had to weigh about 500 pounds. The boar then hurtled through the air toward Jimbo, knocking the muscular man off his feet and onto the ground. As Cable looked, he was amazed to see the boar rubbing his snout all over Jimbo’s face. And Jimbo wiggled and giggled and laughed and said, “Easy there, Doofus. Yes, Daddy is sorry he’s been away so long. Good boy! Wanna treat?”

Doofus immediately rolled off of Jimbo and sat on his haunches. Jimbo disappeared into the teepee. Doofus cast a skeptical eye on Cable and growled softly. Cable felt nervous, but Jimbo bellowed from inside the teepee, “Leave ‘im alone, Doofus. He’s a friend, and let’s face it, old boy--you need as many friends as you can get. You’re pretty ugly, you know.” Doofus quieted down, but still eyed Cable with suspicion. Finally, Jimbo came out with a piece of dried meat in his hand. Tossing it toward the woodline, he said, “Go get it, Doofus! And give me and my guest some time to chat.” Doofus ran off to collect his prize.

Jimbo turned to Cable and whispered, “To tell you the truth, he’s smart, but I wouldn’t exactly call him a full-fledged brain child. That piece of meat I just tossed to him...well, that was actually from his brother. I kind of had to kill him a few weeks ago, on account of my being hungry. I guess Doofus didn’t recognize him just then. It’s just as well. So come in, Herc! I’ve got a story to tell you.”