Cataplexis (kat-a-pleex’-is): Threatening or prophesying payback for ill doing.
I was looking everywhere for my pipe tobacco. I know I had left it on the table by my chair. I loved it. It was just about the only thing I had in my life left to love. It was named “Weasel’s Well Blend.” it came from Kentucky where it was manufactured and cultivated on a prison farm. Given it was subsidized by government money, it was really cheap. At $4.00 per pound it put all other pipe tobacco to shame, for example, an ounce of “Cherry Blend” was $9.00 at Cliff’s. Weasel’s Well tasted and smelled like weasel’s butt, but I could afford it. I would just sit most days, profoundly retired, in my “electric” chair, reclined at 45 degrees, watching Fox News, and huffing away.
My wife hated the pipe and was my number one candidate for having stolen my Weasel’s Well.
She walked into the living room and I fired away: “If you took my pipe tobacco you might as well kiss your ass goodbye. I will quit sharin’ my Social Security check with you and put you out on the street where you belong. Damn you anyhow!” She responded, “You’re the only weasel around here I have anything to do with. If I was going to steal anything it’d be that disgusting piece of wood you call a pipe. Why don’t you clean that thing and start smokin’ Cherry Blend. Milly’s husband smokes it and their whole house smells as sweet as a cherry pie fresh out of the oven.”
I thought to myself “Here we go with the damn Cherry Blend again.” I said, “I’m gonna’ close my eyes and count to 15. If my tobacco I ain’t right here on this table when I open my eyes, I ‘m gonna do something drastic, goddamnit!” When I opened my eyes she was standing there with some big guy dressed like a biker. She said, “This is ‘smacker’ Whitlow and he’s gonna beat the shit out of you if you don’t clean that dirty old root of a pipe and take up smokin’ Cherry Blend!” I was shocked.
I got out my pipe cleaning tools. I reamed out the pipe stem and soaked the pipe in “Honey Drop Bowl Sweetener.” Now, I’m goin’ broke on pipe tobacco and the house smells like cherries. I’ve had to back off on my gin intake to afford my new tobacco. Now that I’ve backed off on the gin, Fox News has started sounding more and more like total bullshit. I miss the good old days, but staying out of the hospital keeps me on the “right” track.
