Last night a chupacabra ate my left testicle.

Let's take this from the beginning.

Around 11:00 last night, I was on A2K. I briefly scanned some of the political threads and then popped over to this thread that Joe Nation has going. I thought about contributing to Joe's thread, but then remembered some angry words Joe and I had shared in the past. Joe, at that time, had been waxing eloquent about some long gone tradition which involved tribal costumes and some sort of flute music. I had interjected with a rather tasteless joke about a female double amputee and a chicken. Joe got a bit angry and chased me off his thread. So.... I wasn't going to go through that again.

I moved over to a thread where msolga and littlek were talking about Christmas. We chatted for awhile but then the conversation turned to girlie stuff. I was getting a little uncomfortable with their talk of exotic Christmas panties and things they'd like to do to Santa Claus as his legs appeared in the fireplace, so I bid them farewell and headed to the card club.

I had a few beers at the club, shared some jokes with some of the boys, and left with about 278.00 in winnings. I probably would have made over 300.00 if I didn't tip the waitresses and card dealers so much.

So, I got back home and started walking toward the house, whistling a little tune, when I was brought to a sudden stop by an unusual smell. Sulfur. I tensed up. Sulfur meant only one thing -- the chupacabra was on my property!

I should have noticed the tell-tale signs; no noise coming from the capybaras, no welcoming cooing from the pigeons, no grunts from the pigs, no rustling of the slender loris. Nothing but silence. And the smell of sulfur.

Slowly, I reached for my gun. I always carry on 38 Smith and Wesson, strapped to my leg. Gun in hand I started toward the capybara pen.

I remember thinking how stupid it was of me to have forgotten to turn on the yard light. Now here I was in total darkness, groping my way toward the capybara pen. Now I could smell blood. Blood and sulfur mixed together. And then I heard a slurping sound. As quiet as a cat, I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out my trusty pen light. Aiming it toward the slurping noise, I turned the light on.

I gasped. My prized capybara, Percy, lay dead on the ground, an enormous hole ripped into his underside, intestines and blood spilling out in a nauseous fashion. And dining on the innards was a beast which I have heard about, but, until now, never seen. The chupacabra.

A hideous creature indeed. About the size of an orangutan, yet thinner and more reptilian. It vaguely resembled gollum, from the Lord of the Rings, but had a bigger head and two prominent fangs. But the eyes! I was mesmerized. Two large red orbs that seemed to glow. I felt my blood run cold. Collecting my wits, I raised my gun to fire.... too late.... the beast was upon me. With savage fury it ripped through my overalls and tore off my left testicle in one bite. I screamed in horror and dropped to my knees as the creature bounded away and, with one fluid motion, jumped on to a fence post. It stopped there. Slowly it turned toward me. My testicle swung from its mouth. The red eyes continued to glow.

I was shocked from not only losing my testicle and seeing it dangle from the mouth of this hideous, reptilian creature, but also by the fact that through the entire ordeal I had captured all this activity with my trusty pen light.

Now bleeding profusely I again raised my gun to shoot. The chupacabra made a chuckling noise, tipped his head back, and in one fluid motion, consumed my testicle. He gulped and was gone. I never had time to get a shot off.

I stumbled to the tool shed and with some duct tape and burlap was able to made a crude bandage. Then, I buried my beloved Percy. The best damn capybara I've ever had.

And now, here I sit, in a blood-soaked chair, telling the horrific story of an evening gone bad.

I'd better get to the doctor.