Folks,

Dux:

Chuckle.... you may be right, and I won't tell a soul you said it first.

Did you notice the Gordon Lightfoot t-shirt? In the original photo I drew his Proxy from, our long time Canadian friend was just about to attend one of Goron's concerts when that expressive photo was taken some years back, or so I was told. C51, as you may know, is in addition to being a fantastic human being an avid birder an excellent watercolorist and semi-professional musician. He taught music in the Toronto school system for over 30 years.

Right... I just despise people who have so much more talent than I do....

Olga Goes Ape Chapter 3

Peter Ivanovitch Rasputin McGonigle III the scion of Russian-Scots-Irish-Danish immigrants long since diseased and the much heralded consumer of massive quantities of alcoholic beverages extraordinaire was just now staggering up the long gravel road to his small hovel located several tree stumps down and one shallow creek over from the famed Gallows Oak of Sherwood Forest.

The shabbily dressed man had only just narowly escaped being run down by a maniac driving a beat up old surplus motorcycle and sidecar. His head was hurting already and he was not in a good mood. The full moon hid itself behind a drifting cloud at the precise moment Peter's old leather brogan met with a large obstruction lying across his path. Down he fell with a resounding thud and a drunken curse.

Up the road a piece inside Sister Cecilia's Clinic for the Severely Mentally Traumatized, Royal Animal Hospital and Center for Diabolically Questionable Scientific Experimentation the situation was already bad with high prospects for getting exponentially worse for the quickly reviving Old Dux. The empty operating theater was about what one might imagine for that era. It was however far from as clean as might have been hoped for.

What is happening? Where are they? Who are they? What are they doing to me? All those thoughts began to flush out the residue of the sedative administered by nurse Goodman that was remaining in the constricted vessels of Dux's brain. Lying there strapped to a cold gurney, Dux stirred and opened his bloodshot eyes. His horrified mind was fully awakened now and it forced him to look about.

Everything was a sickly, faded peeling light green. There was a huge lamp above a mechanically operated operating table that was covered in what once might have been white sheets. They were tinged a bit too red for Dux's comfort. There was a damnably varied lot of fiendish looking instruments lying about on trays and there was a rather large autoclave steaming in one corner.

Then he noticed a peculiar reflection in the chrome of the large operating lamp. What was that? There was something large behind him. It was a barred enclosure of some type. He strained to make sense of the somewhat blurred reflection. There were bars and something else, something huge. Something huge, black and.....and alive. God's teeth it was a.....

Dux had just caught a glimpse of the hirsute, gigantic and rather hopefully expectant great ape Lady Gargantua for the very first time and he was not amused.