The Last Days of the Ole Coleman
The last years of the ole Coleman camper bring back some memories I think that I should relate. Those of you who have been coming to RAT for a few years, are fully aware of how much of an icon the ole Coleman camper was to the whole hulabaloo. This shall serve as a short anecdote of its last years. Yes, in its newer condition, it was crowded with drunken RATs looking for overnight refuge while at the lake. At one time its bunks were completely full of RATs telling stories all night long and getting very little sleep. It suffered through "egg dredging stories" from "Catfish the Younger", (who has been known to nip a little), the Baker boys snoring festival, to "Wojo" and "Catfish the Younger" on a Tuesday night watching two drunks puke their guts up in the next campsite. Why we were so interested and entertained by this is still a mystery. However we did come up with a theory that has still not been tried some 16 years later. You'll have to ask one of us what it is. In writing this I have already touched on several stories that should and shall be told in due time. However, I must stick to the one at hand.
The last two years of the Coleman were really pathetic. Its last year at RAT I decided I would sleep in it along with "Bass Assassin" and "Killer". However the day I arrived and when I actually viewed the antiquated, weathered, moth and rat eaten, mobile shack on wheels, I really had second thoughts. I spoke to "Assassin" regarding my concerns and felt better about my hesitance after he enlightened me of his own reservations. We discussed our feelings about the matter and were more concerned with how we would justify it to "Killer" who still looked at the ole Coleman with adoring eyes. We even slightly delved into the phenomenon of the thing actually having a spirit and possibly even having some kind of hold or possession on him. The whole idea made us kind of nervous, so we decided to stay up and drink a few more beers. "Killer" had already preceded us to bed, stating that he was going to eat a chocolate Easter bunny and drink a glass of milk (which was something he always did before retiring to the ole Coleman). After many Miller Ice Lights and much detailed talk of the supernatural, we decided it was time to face our fears.
This, by the way, was the longest 42 foot trek of my life. Once we arrived at the ole Coleman's door, we stood for a moment in silence. As we stood there in the waning minutes before dawn, we could hear breathing inside. Not the breathing of a normal man, but the breathing of a much stronger entity. Something that had a slight wickedness about it, yet was also very inviting. Being that I actually experienced it and lived through it you can maybe understand that I am slightly embarrassed to admit it now. However, the assassin and myself, were both fully aware that the breathing we were hearing was that of the ole Coleman itself and not that of a mere mortal. I guess we were slightly entranced by its demonic powers or something because we decided to enter anyway. The "Assassin" opened the door and stepped in. He then looked back at me with a confident expression that made me feel foolish for ever having thoughts of demons and spirits. I grinned nervously and followed him in. The door did not latch itself when it closed behind me. Therefore I turned to give it a gentle tug until it did so. What should have been a faint click of the door securing itself resulted in an ear shattering bang that I still compare to the intensity of ten howitzers being fired simultaneously. This is where you will all have to stay with me. The "Assassin" and I froze, expecting "Killer" to rise up and curse us for waking him. As we expected, he did wake up, and was angry. However, this is the type of anger that we, nor any of you could fathom. After being awakened, he totally levitated three feet from his bunk. Rats (the four legged kind) were jumping and gnashing their teeth. I don't mean one or two. I'm talking about thousands of rodents. They were pouncing, biting, and pissing everywhere. It was a damned nightmare and one of which I hope to God Almighty I never experience again. "Killer's" eyes were illuminated in red. This however turned out to be a good thing, as it was the only way the "Assassin" and I could see well enough to dodge all of the projectile vomiting being spewed from "Killer's" mouth (consisting mostly of Easter bunny and milk). The profanity being used consisted of words unknown by any of today's general population. I'm talking about curse words that don't even exist in today's English vocabulary. I'm regretful, even now, that the "Assassin" and myself used them. Yet, extreme circumstances call for extreme measures. This was one of those situations. We bounced around bumping into each other, dodging rat piss and "Killer" vomit for what seemed like an eternity until one of us (don't remember which) decided to dive through the mosquito netting which was virtually non existent. Once on the outside, we vowed to never again sleep in the ole Coleman nor to make mention of this to anyone. However, I feel that it is my duty as one who has lived through this nightmare to tell maybe not the world, but at least the RAT world. Sadly, the ole Coleman was retired after this trip never again to be seen at RAT Central.
Faithfully submitted this 23rd day of January, 2006
Torey "Wojo" Hooper