So I had known Danny since the 3rd grade. He was one of 4 (four!!!) DannyÂs in my class, and was designated as such with his last initial to differentiate between the 4. After high school, and a falling out with my parents, we decided to be roommates. The only problem was, we had about 200 bucks, 2 sofas, and a carton of Camel Wide cigarettes between us. We really had no idea what we could find for 200 bucks, but we found an ad in an East Texas newspaper for a trailer. 200 bucks a month, utilities paid, no deposit. We moved in at once.
The first of many signs of things to be, this trailer did not have usable bedrooms. The bedrooms were located at each end of the thing, but there were holes in the floors of one, and the other was missing a window, or three. It was really not a problem though, since we did not really have bedroom furniture. We moved in rather quickly, since it did not take long to load the sofas, smokes, or paper plates.
He was working at a company making large signs, and would often point out a restaurant sign he had helped make. I was working at a car dealership washing cars and putting those little stickers on the back to say where the car was purchased. At night, we would try to figure out how to patch holes, or fix plumbing, or other things that domesticates were supposed to do.
I left the dealership after a few months, and went to work at Rubbermaid as the guy on the night shift that pulled the hot tote lids from the machine, and trimmed the excess plastic from them. It was glamorous, exciting, and quite possibly the worst job I had ever had, but it paid an extra buck or so an hour to work 3rd shift, and I had all day to work on the trailer.
One morning I got home and found that Danny had pushed the sofaÂs together in the middle of the living room. He had a broom, and taped to the end of the broom was a butcher knife. It was as if some sort of lord of the flies was playing fort in my living room. He woke with a start, and started telling me a tale that was too incredible to believe. It seems he was sitting in the living room, oh hell it was a crappy trailer, so to make it more attractive, I will call it the parlor. So he was sitting in the parlor watching TV, and a small furry creature came from another room and was growling and snarling at him. He tried to shoo it away, but it seemed to get larger, and was hissing. It was then that he made his makeshift spear, and was going to go after it. I started sniffing the ashtray, making sure that there was nothing ÂfunnyÂ in there. I walked the length of the trailer, and did not find any sign of an animal, much less a beast from hell with walking fury.
That night, as I was trying to sleep before going to work, I was awaked by a sound that can only be described as a howler monkey caught in the jaws of a wildebeest. I cautiously crept into the hallway, and there looking me in the eyes was the largest possum I had ever seen. He was 3 feet tall, had red eyes, teeth 15 inches long, and mean streak a mile wide. Since I did not have the spear with me, I made the only other rational decision, and threw something at it. He ducked, and vanished down the hole in the floor. A green glow was coming up from that hole, telling me that there was an industrial accident, and this creature was feasting on nuclear waste.
I went to my bag, and grabbed the 45. I unloaded not one, not two, but 3 clips into the floor. I then started packing up the sofas, the rest of the smokes, and decided we were moving.
Now some of this tale is sprinkled with hyperbole, and some of the descriptions are factual. The living room was not a parlor, we did not live the happy life of two bachelors building our own pad in the skanky trailerpark that time forget, but that damn possum was huge!