Dead Bob's True Tales

People, - Here's another painstakingly researched and practically indisputable fact about the place we call home...

There's a river of ale that flows under Seattle. It's deep underground, fed by subterranean tributaries and artesian wells that carry the fragrant aroma of hops and malted barley from the rich farmlands of Eastern Washington, to caverns deep below the very bottom of Puget Sound.

Aye. Not many people know about this, but it's true. Not many of you landlubbers know about the Great Lake of Beer that shines in the dim volcanic light deep below the Juan de Fuca fault. But that's where Captain Kidd and his nefarious band of rogues spend most of their time during the winter months.

And who can blame them? After all, when you spend the whole summer sacking and looting, wenching and pillaging, plundering and marauding, afterwards you just need a place where you can go and unwind. There's no better way to refresh your spirit than by frolicking in a sea of beer.

Of course all that foam does take its toll on a man; some of us pirates have delicate constitutions. Once, while suffering from a bloated belly full of this bodacious brew, Iron-Lung McPhog belched so hard and so loud, he actually caused the Kingdome to implode. You may have read about that. It's true.

Even more boisterous was Dangerous Dan McGurk--former lighthouse keeper who signed aboard the Moby Duck in the cold summer of '48 and was quickly promoted to the position of "human foghorn." Now there was a man who knew how to have a good time.

To celebrate Fat Tuesday, Dangerous Dan spent the entire afternoon swimming in that sea of beer-foam. This gave him such an outrageous appetite, that he later devoured and entire corned beef brisket (with cabbage, of course), six dozen hard-boiled eggs, twenty-four pickled green tomatoes, twelve deviled ham sandwiches, nine helpings of German potato salad, five jars of cocktail onions, four stuffed bell peppers, three and one-half gallons of chili con carne, a large order of deep-fried mushrooms with tartar sauce and a can of Norwegian sardines packed in olive oil.

But the sardines didn't agree with McGurk, who awoke the next morning with a terrible bellyache. Convinced that a pot of strong coffee black java would make him feel better, McGurk decided to head for a well-known coffee companyin the Sodo district.

Dangerous Dan was last seen burrowing up towards the surface around eleven o'clock in the morning.

Geologists say the quake measured 6.8 on the Richter scale, and folks as far away as Salt Lake City claim to have felt it. Now I'm not saying Dangerous Dan was responsible, and I won't say he ain't. Helluva coincidence, though Ain't it?

So the next time you're sitting outside and you hear sounds coming from somewhere deep underground, noises that sound like frogs croaking, only there ain't no frogs, or foghorns when there ain't no fog....


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