It was a hot and balmy evening. There were three of us. The other two, besides myself, were Tom White and Bill Black. We were staying at a mountain resort near the North Carolina-South Carolina border. The resort had seven buildings. They were: the cafeteria, the main office, the gift shop, the auditorium, and three motel-like living structures. This visit to the resort was our eighth time to be there, so we knew just about everybody.
We had just walked into the auditorium, through the white, wooden doors, when we were greeted by a group of people that called themselves the "welcoming committee". They told us that they we so glad to see us. We didn't know why. Then one of them told us, "We want to give you a reception that you'll never forget." Tom White asked them by saying, "What do you mean?" At that moment, they pulled out, one by one, many spears. What did this mean?
We figured that they were up to no good. We started for the door. It was blocked by two very big guys. So, we made a run for it. About this time, the "enemy" were starting to throw their spears. We got behind a few chairs, but that didn't do any good. Bill got the bright idea to try to get to a higher place in the building so that the enemy would have to strain their arms as they threw the spears. Where could we go?
There was an opening to the attic. Bill thought that we could hold up there. We climbed on the top of a desk and propped up a chair on top of the desk. The spears were coming close now. Tom caught a spear in the leg, but it was just a flesh wound. We used his handkerchief to stop the bleeding. I saw a man leading the attack against the "GOOD GUYS". I didn't know who he was. Who was he?
I heard one of the enemy say, "Okay, Mr. Forest." Then I knew. It was the famous spear thrower, Joe Forest. He was leading the attack against us. They were closing in fast. How could we fight back?
We had been to the canteen, and we bought a bottle of mustard. It was the yellow kind that is used on hot-dogs. The bottle was small enough to carry in a pocket, or it was about an eight ounce bottle. Bill was using the mustard on Tom's wound, so that, it would work as a disinfectant. Bill had put too much on his hand, so he slung some toward the spear-throwers. The mustard hit one of the enemy, and he disintegrated. So, we started to get globs of mustard and threw it at the people causing them to die. We had killed half of the enemy when we saw that we were just about out of mustard. Tom was fit for traveling so, we left for home. We jumped in our car and drove off. Unfortunately, they saw us leave, so they came after us. It turned into a high-speed chase. We reached my house a few minutes before the enemy. Our next-door neighbors looked out their windows at our futile escape. There was only one place near my house that was high enough for the stand-off. It was my neighbor's slide. Since Tom was unable to fight, Bill and I left him in the car while we prepared for the attack. We had just gotten on the top of the slide when the enemy came. The spears hard been sharpened. Forest spotted us and led his army after us. They were bunched up together, just a few feet below us. The only thing separating us from them was a concrete slab, about three feet long and a foot wide. I threw the bottle of mustard, with all my might, at the concrete slab. If I missed, then we would be killed. If I hit the slab, then we would have killed the enemy. The bottle hit the slab, causing mustard to go over every person with a spear. With a blink of the eyes, there was nothing left but about 15 spears lying on the ground. Bill and I picked up the spears and put them in our car. We were wondering who was behind it all. Why did it happen?
Maybe, they didn't like us. It really doesn't matter very much anymore. If you are very anxious to know the reason, then put globs of mustard over your body and after you disappear, ask someone who was there to explain it to you. When you find out the reason, you will see that it really didn't matter after all.
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