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Thread: Honey Badger Wood

  1. #1
    Registered User Biggus's Avatar
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    Aug 2006
    Woking, United Kingdom
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    Honey Badger Wood

    Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the North but it’s in the largest Town in the county, Abbottsford, where our story begins, though that’s not where it ends.

    Apart from being the largest conurbation in the County, Abbottsford is also the administrative center, the location for the Downshire Constabulary HQ and more relevant to the story, the Law Courts.
    Marc and Sarah Hughes were both Lawyers and had their own practice in the town, and had a reputation for representing the more disreputable clients in the area, in fact the more infamous the better, because the worse the client was the more they would charge to represent them, and they lived well on the profits of their immoral business.
    They were a childless couple and lived in a luxury Riverside apartment in Abbottsford.
    Their status as being a double income couple with no kids, they considered to be a blessing as they could never have made room in their lives for something as needy as a child, they were far too selfish.
    Both Marc and Sarah were both from well-heeled families and had been used to having money all their lives and everything else that wealth entailed, but neither of them possessed a moral compass or a conscience, and they were determined to ensure they continued in the same vein in both wealth and conscience.
    The Hughes’s were all about the money and they didn’t care how they got it, and like many rich people once they got it they hung onto to it.

    One day in June they finished at the Courts much earlier than anticipated, having got the case of attempted murder against a local gangster dismissed on a technicality.
    They declined a celebratory lunch with their client because they liked his money but not the man or his entourage and certainly didn’t want to socialize with any of them.

    The Lawyers were feeling very pleased with themselves at the early resolution of the case against their guilty client, not for him, they had no empathy for his kind of scum or indeed any sympathy for his victim, the Hughes’s were despicable people.
    What Marc and Sarah were happy about, as a result of the early resolution, was that they had finished work for the day so they could take their brand new Canary Yellow Porsche 911 Carrera 4S Cabriolet out for a spin.
    “Where shall we go?” Sarah asked
    “How about somewhere out in the sticks where we can avoid the great unwashed hordes and have a picnic” he replied “just you me and the Porsche”
    “Great idea, let’s go and frighten the country bumpkins” she retorted

    Before they left Abbottsford they stopped at Labuschagne’s, the Supermarket for the obscenely wealthy and those with more money than sense and bought their picnic lunch before leaving for the country.

    They drove south out of the city a headed towards the Trotwood’s and ten miles beyond Little Trotwood they arrived at the village of Black Acres and parked the car in front of a pub called The Witch Burners Arms.
    “This will do, there’s bound to be somewhere close by where we can picnic” he said
    “We can ask in here for directions”
    “Ok but I’m not eating or drinking in this hovel” she replied snobbishly “and I’m not sitting on the furniture”

    The landlord of the “Witch” was Bob Clement and as the outsiders walked through the door he smiled and said
    “Good afternoon, what can I get you?”
    “We‘re looking for somewhere to picnic” he said matter of factly as his wife looked down her nose at the regulars who viewed the outsiders as curiosities.
    “Ah well I have a little map here” Bob said “which will help you, there are a good deal of wonderful walks, idyllic scenery and beautiful meadows and any number of picturesque picnic spots”
    “Ok” Marc said and took the map from him without thanks and then turned to leave
    “But don’t go anywhere near Honey Badger Wood” Bob added
    “There’s nothing worth seeing in there”

    Even if they hadn’t been ridiculously minted, being townies and having been born into the “entitled” generation, they were not going to be told where they could or could not go, especially by a country bumkin so they headed straight for Honey Badger Wood.
    As soon as they saw the wood they were entranced, it was so beautiful.
    “No wonder the yokels warned us off, it’s gorgeous” Sarah said “they obviously wanted to keep it to themselves”
    They entered the wood and walked the woodland path that meandered its way in the dappled sunlight until they came upon a large open glade with the most wondrous flower meadow at its heart, full of wild flowers, whose sweet scent filled the air.
    “Well I think we have found the perfect place for our picnic” he said
    “I agree” she said as they walked through the meadow grass until they reached the center where Sarah spread the picnic rug.

    After they had feasted on quails eggs, game pie, smoked Salmon, Foie Gras, Caviar and Champagne, they lay back to digest their lunch and with the combination of Champagne, the warm June sunshine and the sweetly scented air they fell into a sleep from which they never awoke, because while they digested their picnic lunch the Carnivorous Meadow digested them.

    The next morning Bob the landlord looked outside and saw the yellow Porsche still parked in the pub carpark so he picked up the phone and called Angel’s garage
    “Angels Automotive” the voice answered
    “Hi Terry” Bob said “Another pair of stupid townies failed to heed my warning about Honey Badger Wood”
    “Not very bright of them” Terry said “So what did the leave at the pub?”
    “A Canary Yellow Porsche 911 Carrera 4S Cabriolet” Bob replied
    “Nice, that will keep the hospice going for another year on its own” Terry said “I’ll come and get it now”

    No one in Black Acres profited personally from the sale of goods left behind, the proceeds did however support local establishments, like the Hospice and the Care Home and donations were made to other local good causes.
    However it may have seemed to the casual observer that the inhabitants of Black Acres were a callous bunch in regards to the loss of human life but no one wasted any pity on the arrogant pair of townies because the Carnivorous Meadow in Honey Badger Wood fed only on corruption and had Marc or Sarah Hughes had even an ounce of goodness in them they would have survived.
    But they didn’t, so as they slept the eternal sleep the meadow consumed every last cell of them.

  2. #2
    Registered User
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    Oct 2010
    A rural part of Sweden, southern Norrland
    Reminds me of Flora Thompson Lark Rise to Candleford, on rural life in the 1800s.

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  4. #4
    TheFairyDogMother kiz_paws's Avatar
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    Mar 2007
    The Prairies, Canada
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    Excellent writing, Biggus!
    Enjoyed this story very much.
    Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty
    ~Albert Einstein

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