Another True Story.

It took alot to finally write this story , no don't call me a hero. I'm just a guy doing his job, well ok you can call me a hero.

You may have guessed by now that Old Knudsen is the man that others call when the situation is such that civilised people flap like headless chickens and pee doon their legs. Old Knudsen keeps his head, he goes into battle already dead so you can't harm him and he counts his rounds as he fires them off.
A couple of years back, so you may remember this amateur hunter doon in the Pennine mountains shot a bear but only wounded him, the hunter being a lazy towny didn't bother to follow him to finish the job and the bear killed 2 lesbian campers.
The fish and game wardens didn't want to go up against it as they were having a work's do (party) at the weekend because someone was retiring and were really looking forward to it besides it was neither fish or game so they put in a call to me, well actually it was to my son Trevor as I never answer the phone unless I'm expecting a call because I'm notorious among the book, music and video clubs for not paying after the first initial bargain, don't judge me people Britannica is run by puppy killers, well that's how I justify it.

Trevor came to the door and as usual I said "what the fuck do you want? make it fast or I'll turn the hose onto you" which is funny as I don't have a hose, God is my waterer. Trev as I sometimes call him or ,'you constant disappointment' told me of the bear situation and that they needed the Storm Bringer, that's me.
I got Trevor to set the timer for Emerdale (a famous soap that's really called Emerdale farm) as at that time it had Lady Tara in it and I think I may love her, and Kathy. I got my killing gear together and got into the mind set of death.
Trevor drove me doon complaining all the way about having to be up in 4 hours to go to work, what a whiner why can't he be more like his brother ?
I tracked the beasty from the point where the hunter shot it. I got a good sniff of the hunter's scent Hi-Karate, he'd be next on my list.
The death toll was up to 3 dead, some accountant that likes to hike had an appointment with doom, maybe he should have calculated the odds of a bear attack.
The Bear was heading to high ground to die, he was getting insane with the pain , God help anyone that stood in his way.
I tracked him to a cave, I could smell the blood in the air, blood ,fear and feces the blood was all his, I have stomach problems .
He was waiting for me and I was waiting for him to make the first move, I pulled out my David Bowie knife, its nice knife but double edged you know it cuts both ways I wanted to dispatch the bear claw to claw with honour.
I move forward , the bear came racing out in full berserker rage, a split second of panic over took me, for once Old Knudsen had made an error, much like the time in Bangkok with that gurly boy but that ended ok.
The bear I had been tracking was none other than the legendary *Great White Panda* of the Pennines, more ferocious and blood thirsty than yer standard Panda for this one dips its bamboo into blood before it eats it.
The battle was epic, and with even more feces, hey I couldn't help it I bought this tuna and onion bap and it had corn in it, and as you corn goes right through me, bloody New world foods.
We fought like warrior poets but without the ghey poetry stuff, the bear slashed, I stabbed, sometimes swiftly and sometimes in slow motion or so it seemed, we were both bloodied and tired, my old Bowie knife had snapped in two, well it was a good knife in it's time. I glanced over to my side and saw my left leg hanging on by a mangled thread, NO! I screamed in my head, I just bought those trousers 12 years ago, now I was angry, the bear was regrouping and getting it's strength for the final conflict, I ripped off my leg and as the bear charged I beat it to death with my severed limb.

I used some bungee cords to attach my leg on until I was out of those mountains as the weather can just change at a moments notice and have you trapped, I had skinned the creature and fed on it's heart to take it's power and I found a nice wee bracelet in it's belly contents, Trevor's wife whatever her name is having a birthday soon. Yes Old Knudsen does think about others, he is a many faceted individual.
I followed the spores of the Hunter to a pub called the 'Drained Cock' I still had my rifle but I wanted to enjoy this so I put a tiny kitchen devil knife up my sleeve and walked in.
I went straight up to the bar where a figure dressed in plaid was hunched over drinking some kind of wine cooler, I said "are you the idiot that wounded a bear up on old sexual peak? " he slowly turned, I braced for a glass being shoved at me or the sticky wet of cooler , the man looked at me with large bulbous blue eyes and said "yeah, do you have a problem?" it was the famous actor Hugh Laurie, me being a fan of Jeeves and Wooster , Black Adder and a bit of Fry and Laurie went all giggly, "no I don't have a problem, is Stephen Fry here? remember when you said Herne the horny hunter, had an enormous horn? that was so funny".
We had a pleasant evening of drinking and humorous story telling until I passed out through lack of blood and excessive alcohol .
No idea how I got to the hospital, Hugh left when I hit the floor as his agent had called, busy man he is.
And that is the story on how I lost my leg to the great white Panda of the Pennines, the gospel truth, which means you can believe this as literally as the bible which it totally fact, like this post, got it?

Had I known that Hugh Laurie would end up playing a Yank Doctor in Hoose I would have gutted him, fucking traitor, ah well its not his fault America is full of crap actors, show them how its done lad.


*as you can tell its not not very white,well the great white shark isn't so great, I didn't name the bloody thing, I just looked into it's eyes of death, anyway fuck off I don't want to talk about it*.