A Dyck in a Pet Cemetery (Part 2)

My deepest apologies for keeping you in suspense. Things have been crazy here in Dyckersonville due to the queen's visit, plus I have a MAJOR Miracle Ass update for you, but that will have to wait for another day. First I want to share with you the most gruesome, disgusting, horrible experience I have ever...well....experienced.

In the last installment of A DYCK IN A PET CEMETERY, the Dyckerson clan found out that our beloved deceased "Pattie" (1982-1990) was about to be bulldozed to make room for a new shopping center. Mother Dyckerson threatened to cut me out of her will if I didn't go down there immediately and put a stop to it. Well, there's no way in hell that's going to happen, but I did agree to go by the site and take a few pictures of Pattie's tombstone for posterior. So Thursday afternoon during my lunch hour, that's exactly what I did.

I was too late.

I was much too late.

Holy fucking shit, was I too late.

At first, I couldn't even find the place. I was halfway to the next town before I realized I passed it. I made a sharp U-turn in the middle of Route 1 and proceeded in low gear with my eyes scanning the roadside. Another mile further, and I finally found the place. Turns out the gawdy pink house that served as a landmark for the cemetery for several decades had vanished without a trace. POOF - just like that. In its place, nothing but weeds and prickly bushes and bushy pricks and such. Thankfully, the DyckMobile is equipped to handle even the roughest of terrain, so I was able to navigate my way back to cemetery.

Or, should I say, what was left of the cemetery. The images I saw that day will haunt me for the rest of my life. They are images that no other human being should ever have to see. Certainly not the kind of thing that any self respecting blogger would ever display on an open site where children could have access. Unfortunately for you, I have no self respect. Here's the first picture:

In the movie industry, they would probably call this the "establishing shot." It helps set the stage for the coming attractions. There's a lot going on here, so let me give you a little tour. In the foreground, you see a DANGER/DO NOT ENTER sign with bold red lettering. Much to my regret, I would later ignore that sign. In the middle of the picture, we have a big open field with little red flags. These mark the locations of the graves to be dug up. Now look closely toward the background. Can you see what looks like a huge pile of unearthed animal coffins? I bet you have no idea what that is. Give up?? Alright, I'll tell you. It's a HUGE PILE OF UNEARTHED ANIMAL COFFINS. Let's zoom in for a closer look, shall we?

On the surface, this looks like a heap of rotten old Tupperware containers caked with mud, right?? Listen, I've been on this planet for a long time. I know what mud looks like. I know what mud smells like. Ladies and gentlemen, take my word for it. That ain't just mud.

The stench was totally indescribable. To say it smelled like shit would be an insult to shitkind. If you submerged your head in Rosie O'Donnell's septic tank on a hot summer day, it would smell better than this. I would have to burn all the clothes I was wearing that day, and then nuke the fireplace for good measure.

But where were the bones??! Those furry fuckers have been dead a long time, but surely there would be some sort of solid remains. That's when my attention turned to.....

.....the Hefty Bags of Atrocity. WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WAS IN THOSE BAGS???!! I did not want to know, and I did not want to find out. But I had a pretty good idea...and it ain't empty beer cans. What did you think I was going to do? Rip open one of the bags and skull fuck a terrier??! Even Dyckerson has standards. Collie maybe, but not a terrier.

The wind picked up, and my nostrils were once again assaulted by the rancid unGodly stench emanating from the rotting corpse Tupperware party. Thank the Lord I had eaten that day - otherwise, those Hefty bags would have been awash in a sea of hot puke.

Then I thought about Pattie. Was she somewhere in one of those bags? Not all the graves had been dug up yet, so I decided to see if I could get a picture of hers. This in itself was a dangerous mission, for I had to tiptoe through a minefield...only the mines were FRESHLY DUG HOLES and SUNKEN GRAVES.

As I searched the grave markers, I was amazed at how many of these critters were named after food items. There was Pumpkin and Gumdrop and Muffin and so on. As I passed each one, I added the names to my mental list of foods that I will never eat again. Finally, I reached the end of the grass.

SHIT! This was the section where Pattie had been buried! Those motherfuckers bulldozed my goddamn dog! Those sickass sons of bitches!! I was too late!!!

I was just about to leave when I noticed the stones. Grave stones, that is...arranged like dominoes along the edge of the property.

Now I could add "Sugar" and "Brownie" to the list of foods I'll never again put in my mouth. I'm sure Pattie's stone was buried in there somewhere, but the wind was picking up and blowing the stench of death all around me. Fuck that shit. I decided to call the number on the DO NOT ENTER sign (the sign I should have paid attention to in the first place) and get the hell out of there.

And not a moment too soon, for I apparently parked the DyckMobile a bit too close to the cemetery, because it was beginning to SINK INTO THE GROUND.

OK, I made up that last part. But I still wanted to get the hell out of there before the crew came back and began resuming the exhuming. There's a nice final thought for you. Think of how shitty your current job is. Now compare that to DIGGING UP ANIMAL CORPSES. I bet your job doesn't sound so bad now, does it?

Brownies, anyone??


Anonymous said...

Poor .... poor. Peppermint Pattie. {add those to your list now too} {Ooo - And Hamburger Pattie as well!}

At least you made a valiant effort for your mom. If you were here I'd kiss you.

Wait .. no I wouldn't. Ewww.

Aza said...

That is so sad. I think I'm going to go shoot myself in the face now.

Beth said...

that is really sad Dyckerson...you didn't get Patty back. Your poor mom...in more ways than one do I mean Your Poor Mom!!! ;)

tfg said...

I think you've invented Necro-beastiality. I wonder if that's pantentable.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Willo - I'll meet you behind the bulldozer at midnight. Bring some champagne and gumdrops.

Aza - Go ahead. Just make sure they don't bury you in Evergreen.

Beth - Don't worry about Mother D. I ordered some chicken from KFC, and when I was done eating it, I gave her the bones. She bought it.

TFG - Necro-beastiality?? That has a nice ring to it. I wonder if Merck has a drug for that.

Gucci Muse said...

Geez, those containers in the second photo look like turd troughs.....gross-I can't even imagine how it must have stunk!

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Gucci - You won't have to imagine for long. I plan on bottling the odor and using it to create and sell my own fragrance. I'll call it Putrefaction.

ADW said...

Sounds like a lovely place to take a date if you want to hit a homerun.

"Hey baby, I know a creepy little place that will just set you off."

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's a surprise."

Yeah, one hell of a surprise. Seriously. Do that. Take pictures of that. Take video of that. I wanna see it.

Manola Blablablanik said...

I'm sure that shopping center will be haunted by a bunch of barking poodlegeists!

It's Me... Maven said...

I'm literally stupefied by the crass way the cemetary handled everything. All the more reason for me to cremate any future pets (once they expire) and use the cremains in a pottery item, have them made into a diamond, or better yet, I'll follow Keith Richards' lead and snort a pinch of ol' Fido...

RevRee said...

Do those brownies have nuts in them?

Mighty Dyckerson said...

ADW - Good idea. I wouldn't even have to take a shower before the date. The stench of rotting dog flesh would overpower my B.O.

Manola - Could be a movie in that. I wonder if Craig T. Nelson is available? Oh who am I kidding, of course he is.

Maven - "Cremains"...now there's a funny word! Maybe Quaker will come up with a new flavor of instant oatmeal: Peaches 'N Cremains.

RevRee - No, but my tightie whities do.

Scary Monster said...

Maybe you shoudda brought Grampa Dykerson with you- He seems to have a way with animals.


NAME: Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

I have to comment on a comment:
"No, but my tighty-whiteys do"

Holy shit, I nearly laughed my ass off.

It's Me... Maven said...

Here's a marketing success waiting to happen: MULTIGRAIN CREMAINS!

tfg said...

I'd wager that your tighty-whiteys have brownies in them, too.

Nancy said...

You drive a 'lil ole Jeep?

That's so girly man!

I expected something different.
(Like a Pacer, or a Pinto ... maybe a Gremlin)

Crunchy BC said...

And you know there is at least one asshole on the job site who thinks it's funny to hide dead animal parts in people's lunchboxes and shit.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Monster - Suck my dead pig. OINK!

Dr. K. - Speaking of asses, I think they had one of those buried there too. Or maybe it was a mule.

Maven - Your cremain refrains are just plain insane.

TFG - Nope, no brownies. But they do have lots of shit stains.

Nancy - You will not disrespect the DyckMobile on this blog. Apologize at once!!!

BC - What's so bad about that? I eat dead animal parts every day.

Nancy said...

OH CRAP ... I bet your Jeep is really the Oscar Mayer Weiner Mobile incognito!

Now THAT IS a DyckMobile!

andy said...

We had a cat named Webster because he was black and my Grandpa was racist.

and THAT is why I can't watch Amistad to this day.

Liz said...

"Running with Scissors" <--- see it. You'll never look a stew the same way either.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Nancy - You are BANNED.

Andy - Did Grandpa make kitty use a separate water fountain too?

Liz - What the fuck are you talking about??

~ Stacy ~ said...

I have absolutley nothing to say... but I'll take the brownies, thanks.

Webmiztris said...

is it wrong that even after reading this entire post, I'd still totally devour the hell out of those brownies?