The Fat Man and his Dog

by Casey Criswell

Provisions and Such.

  The Fat Man approached the two star struck villagers, a look of general boredom gazed from the depths of his matted beard and hair. Dog looked likewise as he planted his rear firmly upon the freshly turned soil below, tongue lolling moistly from his mouth.

  Fat Man gave both villagers a look and took in the smiles and excitement that resided within them both. He contemplated said expectation briefly, then threw back his unruly head and let forth with a mighty belch. The sound of fallen trees appeared to originate near his toes and gained momentum as it coursed upward through his body. The smell was much like the stench of death and elderberries. Dog looked absently at his master for a brief moment before answering in kind, however his reported from the opposite end. The son crumpled to the ground in silence, overwhelmed by the stench.

  Father let a brief grimace tarnish his countenance before steeling himself before this man of legend. “Is…is it really you?” he asked.

  “Ay,” answered the Fat Man.

  “Nay? You are not he?”

  ”Eh? I said ‘Ay’” Fat Man replied.

  “Ay?” Bewilderment danced upon father's face yet still failed to dampen his excitement.

  Fat Man extended both fists before him, thumbs extended skyward in salute. “Ayyyy!” he replied adding a half hearted smirk to bring home the effect. Dog let forth a sigh and lowered himself fully to the ground, head rested upon outstretched paws.

  “I…okay then,” replied father. He gave a start as he turned to see his son lying faint next to him. He quickly stopped to draw the boy upright brushing off the dirt and offal that he had landed in.

  “I am sorry sir, you took us by surprise.” Father thought quickly for the words to address the storied man before him. “It is you, the Fat Man and his dog!”

  The Fat Man turned and rolled his eyes in silent communication with Dog, unimpressed with the relevance bestowed upon him by the farmer. Dog forced himself over to his side, a faint snore escaping his maw.

  “Cripes man, what have you been eating?” The boy now awake waved a hand in front of his face to disperse the smell that rendered him inert moments before. Father reached quickly with a grizzled hand and smacked the boy firmly upon the back of his head.

  “What my ill mannered son was meaning to ask kind sir, was where have you disappeared to these many years?” Father blushed slightly as he spoke.

  “That’s not what I meant” the boy retorted while rubbing his head. “The man stinks!”

  The Fat Man groaned as he stretched his arms skyward, fingers splayed as far as they could reach. He stretched to the tips of his toes as he worked out the kinks of his disused muscles. Upon releasing the mighty stretch, his hand quickly found purchase within his mighty beard which he then scratched heavily. “Eh, been sleepin.” Dog began to increase the volume of his snoring at the Fat Mans feet.

  “Sleeping sir? But the tales of old always told the tales of your widespread journeys! Your legendary mirth and good will!”

  “S’wot I said, sleepin.” While still looking bored, The Fat Man’s voice took on a gruff and annoyed tone. “Tired. All that walking and stuff.”

  Father stammered briefly as he pressed on with his sad attempt at conversation. “Well…that’s understandable I suppose. Your mood seems to be a little less enjoyable than the stories tell I must say though.”

  “Eh. Got lazy. Ran out of stories and such.” Fat Man turned and looked down at Dog sound asleep at his feet. He let loose a sigh and shook his head. “I blame him,” he stated matter-of-factly as he motioned idly towards Dog.

  “You…you blame the dog sir?”

  “Aye, got tired of his jokes.”

  “His jokes sir?”

  “Yes, walked all those miles, all that time, never got any new material.”

  Father looked bewildered as he glanced back and forth between Fat Man and Dog. “Well, I can see where that would become a nuisance.”

  “So, what brings you out into the world again this fine spring day?” Father tried his best to break the awkward silence that befell the foursome.

  “You got any food?” the Fat Man asked in response.

  “I’m sorry?” father stammered once again. The boy began to shake his head in disbelief at the supposed legend that stood before them.

  “Food. Cook it, put it in your mouth, chew it up.” Hearing the Fat Man speak of food, Dog rolled himself back upright and watched the father expectantly.

  “Well, yes. I know what food is. We do have some, yes.”

  “Right then, how bout it?” Fat Man began to rub his stomach absently as Dog’s tongue lolled out once more.

  “This man’s nothing but a mooch father,” the boy exclaimed. “Your old wives tale wants not but to glean the food we worked hard to store.”

  “Hush boy,” father stated under his breath. “I told you the man liked to eat."

  Father then turned towards the Fat Man, “Yes, I suppose we could spare a bite for you and your dog. I’d consider it an honor to have you sup at my table and hear the tale of where you’ve been these many years!”

  Dog raised himself to his feet as he heard promise of food ahead of him. Fat Man turned to dog with a quizzical look upon his face.

  “I just asked him for food you git. I ain’t gonna ask him for steak, that’d be rude and such.” Dog whined softly in response, head lowered and ears laid back in deference.

  “Aiight then,” Fat Man stated, “Let’s have at it.” He strode off to the east with purpose, Dog jogging quickly behind.

  “Uh, Mr. Fat Man sir,” father called out behind him.

  The Fat Man stopped abruptly and rounded on the man. “What.”

  “The house sir, it’s this way…” father grabbed the boy by the arm and drug him with him. “This way if you will,” he called over his shoulder as he headed off to the west.